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anime-grimmy-art · 3 years

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What do you do when there’s not much to an AU? You make up your own stuff, ofc. And as is per usual when I make Character Designs, I make up a shit ton of lore too.

The ramblings under the cut, but what I’m really interested in, is what you guys think. Do you guys have any headcanons/ideas for this AU? Let me hear them! Also, if you don’t wanna read on tumblr, here’s the Google Docs link: https://drive.google.com/file/d/151yshHxnb_--P6eMKkwkI2dee9xC_Llb/view?usp=sharing

Before I get into the characters’ roles, here’s some general facts and backstory of their town:

- Basically, it’s Undertale meets Harvest Moon / Stardew Valley. Well, kinda. I at least used that approach for coming up for the jobs for the characters. You know, how there’s always a general store, a doctor, a smithy, etc.

- The usual story of a HM game is that you come to a town that’s way past its glory days and you, as the player/farmer, help them get back to that. The “backstory” of the town is that that already kinda happened. I’ll get into it more in the character description, but basically when Asgore was still mayor, the town got really popular. Then yadda yadda, a certain tragedy happened, two kids died, and the town suddenly got very bad publicity. There was a lot of stuff going on back then, bad reputation being spread and also a lot of law stuff, cos, you know, supposed child murder ‘n all, so Asgore made the decision to shut off the town to ppl from outside. This was in the interest of most monsters living there, because as fun as it is to have a lot of people coming there, most just wanted to live a quiet life. Not everyone was happy with that though, so many moved away from town and some others are trying to get the town back on its feet. But more on that later.

On to the characters:

I’m just gonna start with the skelebros, cos it’s their fault in the first place I got so invested.

Basically, they are what the player is in hm/sdv. They just showed up one day, took over the abandoned farmhouse and began their life there. The two came to town way after it was “closed” and since then a new mayor has opened the possibility for new residents to move in. Their farm helps the economy of the town a lot and the mayor, like usually in hm games, is trying to use that to make the town more known again. The skelebros aren’t really working towards that goal however.

So, now a bit more detail on them individually.

Papyrus:

- The design is mostly based on what’s “canon” in this au.

- He works mostly on the fields and is in charge of the crops. Their fields aren’t spectacularly big, but still big enough to plant a few dozen rows of veggies.

- Paps also helps out a lot in town when he has the time. He helps Asgore with his plants, he goes fishing with Undyne, helps Toriel carry crates around and so on. This is inspired by the part-time job mechanic in HM ToT.

- Unbelievably, in this AU Pap is not an absolutely awful cook. Since he helps out at Muffet’s and Grillby’s a lot, they tend to show him some tricks to cooking. Even though Pap’s not a big fan of the greasy or overly sweet cooking those two do, he picks up a lot.

Sans:

- Again, design mostly based on the “canon” look. Maybe a bit more baggy.

- This is finally an AU this dude gets to rest. Since there are no resets and he doesn’t have to see his bro die again and again, for once in his life, he’s not a sad ball of depression. He’s just a chill and lazy dude that loves to make puns. Though, since he’s not too experienced with the feelings of loss, helplessness or grieving, he still tends to hide behind puns and fakes smiles if he does feel bad.

- Sans is in charge of the animals on the farm. Papyrus begrudgingly gave him that role since Pap’s loud demeanour and hectic movements usually scare the animals. Sans’ relaxed attitude draws the animals to him naturally and even if Pap mostly finds him sleep against a tree, in a stack of hay or on one of the sheep, the animals are always fed, healthy and relaxed, so Sans seems to be doing his job.

- Sans always has a small chic sit inside his hoodie or hat. Is it always the same one? Who knows, maybe.

- Sans also, somehow, can produce eggs out of thin air. Grab into his hoodie pocket, in his pants pocket, in his hat, in his slipper, there’s suddenly always an egg there. On good days he can even make butter or cheese appear.

Gaster:

- He’s literally just a scarecrow in this. Though, if you ask any of the bros why they designed their scarecrow that way, they won’t have an answer.

Frisk&Toriel:

- Frisk is mostly based on what I wore myself as a kid in summer. Just a loose shirt with a cappy. Toriel basically has her ut gown, just with an apron on top.

- Frisk just appeared outside the “magical” forest one day. Napstablook and his cousin found them and brought them to Toriel, who has been taking care of them since.

- Toriel runs the general store in town, but also often takes care of the few kids that still live there.

- Frisk usually helps out in Toriels store, plays with the other kids or sits around at Asgore’s. They’re notorious for nabbing small snacks, mostly from Asgore’s plants. You’ll always find them munching on something.

- Frisk was in town before the skelebros. Since they’d moved in, Frisk often went to spy on their farm. After a small incident with angry chicken, Frisk got to know the two better and now they see them as something between brothers and uncles.

- But Frisk honestly gets along with everyone. Just like in UT, they’ve not only been adopted by Toriel but literally everyone.

- Toriel and Asgore’s relationship is not as bad as in the main game, since, you know, Asgore didn’t kill literal children, but there’s still tension between them. Back when Asriel and Chara died and the whole thing with the bad rep for the town began, Toriel felt betrayed by Asgore focusing more on the town than giving their deceased kids the grieving they deserved. They’re not divorced, but Toriel still moved out and said needed space to think. Now that Frisk is in the picture though, the both of them are slowly coming to even ground and may even be able to talk things out and clear up the uncertainty of their decisions.

Asgore:

-Asgore has his UT Ending / Deltarune clothes, just with a gardener’s belt.

- He’s the previous mayor of the town, but after all the crap that happened, he stepped down from the position. Now he has his own little shop and sells seeds, saplings, homegrown veggies and fertilizer. So, basically what e.g. the Marimba Farm is in HM AP

- His main customer is Papyrus and they’re on friendly terms. Asgore is worried about how much and how hard Pap works, so he often gives him a discount.

- Since his family’s past tragedy, Asgore is kind of nervous around kids. So, when he first met Frisk, he hoped they’d not visit him too often. But to his chagrin, Frisk took an instant liking to him and spends a lot of time at his shop (and steals eats the fresh grown veggies). Now, he’s really grateful for that, because for one, he loves Frisk as dearly as he had his own children, and also because now the tension and mistrust between him and Toriel seem to grow smaller day by day.

Undyne&Alphys:

- I gave Undyne a pretty basic fisher’s outfit. Alphys basically has Elli from HM’s outfit, just a bit more doctory stuff added. She still has her canon lab coat too.

- In essence, Undyne and Alphys have 2 completely different jobs. Alphys is the resident doctor and Undyne runs the fish market.

Two things. Yes, I know Alphys is more a mechanic than a doctor, she fits the aesthetic though, so she’s the doc now. And no, Undyne being a fisherwoman is not cannibalism, think of it more as a shark hunting smaller fish.

- The reason I lump them together is because they act as the local “smithy”. Alphys is still really tech savvy in this (I mean, Mettaton is still part of this AU), so she takes on most problems with electronics and stuff. For Undyne, I didn’t want to lose her Royal Guard’s Captain image, so she’s really good at handling tools (and weapons, but Al doesn’t let her make them anymore). So basically, if there’s a broken tool, you can be sure that either Undyne or Alphys can fix it.

- As for relationships, those two are still an item. Alphys is still really shy and a shut-off, but since Undyne and Pap become best friends, she gets to know the skelebros better. She and Sans especially get along well, since most of the time Undyne and Papyrus are let loose, they sit back and talk about science-y stuff. (no, Sans doesn’t have a background in science but he’s still into sci-fi)

- Alphys has a bit of a strained relationship with both Asgore and Mettaton.

Back when Chara and Asriel died, it was because of “illness” (maybe poisoning?). Alphys feels awful because with her back then limited knowledge on medicine she couldn’t help the two. Asgore doesn’t hold anything against her but Alphys can’t help but feel guilty.

Alphys still built Mettaton’s body in this one. The two had a really big disagreement, because Mettaton hated the fact the town was going to close, and he couldn’t understand how Alphys could feel otherwise, even more so endorse the idea.

Mettaton, Napstablook, Mad Dummy/Mew Mew:

- Napsta and Dummy are pretty self-explanatory, they got straw hats. Mettaton’s outfit is a bit of a joke cos it’s a play on “work at the top and party at the bottom”. The tie has two different sides, one with the yellow red pattern, the other completely red. His “top part” is the business part, because when he’s on tv or in the mayors’ office, you don’t usually see his feet. The bottom is his party/dance part, cos his dancing/entertainment channels mostly feature his legs.

- Mettaton, still a robot, Napstablook and Mad Dummy are all still cousins in this AU.

- Originally, they all lived and worked at the Blook Farm, the Animal Farm of this AU. Mettaton, however, despised that simple live and after befriending Alphys and her building him a body, he left the Farm to pursue bigger things.

- Mettaton runs the local tv network. From weather to game shows, he does it all. He also runs the tailor shop in town that sells his designer clothes and merchandise. After Asgore stepped down, Mettaton also took over the role of town’s mayor and now works towards making the place more known again. Not everybody is happy with him doing that though.

- One of those people is the Mad Dummy. He can’t stand people anyways and he always claims that history would just repeat itself.

- Since the whole family is made of ghosts, they have different dummies and scarecrows they can use to take care of the animals. To mock Mettaton and kinda get back at Alphys for giving MTT such an opportunity, Mad Dummy found the blueprints for the Mew Mew robot and now modelled one of their scarecrows after it.

- Napstablook isn’t fond of taking over obejcts like his cousins do, so he mostly takes care of the snails. Somehow, he can interact with them even when incorporeal.

Muffet&Grillby:

- The two of them run the Inn together. Muffet cooks in the daytime and makes desserts, Grillby manages the bar in the evening.

- The two still can’t really stand each other but working together like this benefits them both because their rivalry just spurs them on more.

- Even though Grillby is a patient person, somehow Muffet is the only person who riles him up enough to retaliate. (Well, maybe except for Sans, he’s a strong second).

So, basically everything between those two is a challenge in some way. Even if Papyrus doesn’t notice, even his cooking lessons are a challenge for them.

- Even though they’re constantly bickering, after working together for so many years, there’s a strange level of respect and trust between them. Even if back when they first started this business, they’d pour salt into an already open wound, nowadays they’d know better and just take a step back from the other or even comfort the other (on very rare occasions only).

Asriel&Chara:

- They be dead. Kinda.

Some Characters that’d live in that town too but that I haven’t made designs for:

- Gerson is the original smithy of the town. He’d grown up in a family of smiths, but he’d always had an appreciation for the sea. That’s why, when the town became more deserted and Undyne had a good enough skill level as smith, he took up the Captains hat and now mostly spends his days out on sea. He also ferries people to places if they need him to. Oh, and just like in canon, Undyne learned most of her skills from him.

- Burgerpants is a poor dude Mettaton basically kidnapped when he was trying to get fame in the city. Now Burgerpants works wherever MTT needs him to, be that as cameraman for the tv shows, cashier in his tailor shop or his slave secretary in the mayor’s office.

- MK is Frisk’s best kid friend. MK’s parents are in charge of shipping the goods out of town and paying the individual people. MK’s the one that usually collects the goods at the end of the day.

- Other than that, there are only a few people in town. I’d imagine the older folks or the really young families stayed in town after it was closed. I think the librarby dude would still run the library. Some Snowdin residents like the stone family or the dogs also might still live there.

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bikiniarmorbattledamage · 3 years

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While it may not seem like the initial bingo material - I invite you consider how the fuck she is supposed to do literally anything in this plate armor.

The helmet literally covers her eyes so she can’t see anything past her toes

Her exposed mouth and lower face, combined with clawed gauntlets, mean any attempt to adjust it would mangle herself

The armor is form fitted to her torso so she can’t bend, turn or even make big movements with her arms. I doubt she can even breathe with that boobplate.

Leg legs are locked into the “maximum thigh gap” pose. so she can’t even walk, let alone engage in combat footwork

This is not armor, this is some next level BDSM shit for people who find vacuum bondage too vanilla. (nsfw)

Bless Unleashed has been around since 2019 but has recently started more aggressive marketing - and um... wow... it’s... marketing... some of it really, really leans into the old myth, double standards, suspicious dimorphism and mistaking satirical parody for a style guide.

(Honestly glad there is no mantis race... at least I think there isn’t...)

Unsurprisingly a large part of the Steam community screenshots etc is ogling even more ridiculous sets of armor.

I don’t know which is worse, the weird horny marketing put together by the Creepy Marketing Guy or the more generic, family friendly marketing that tricks people into downloading the game and finding the options for female characters are fighting fucktoy, sexy sorcereress and bad archer..

- wincenworks

#female armor bingo #bless unleashed #plate armor #sex sells #marketing #double standards #suspicious dimorphism #fantasy #RPG #video games #bad archer #boobplate #image #Bikini Armor Battle Damage #BikiniArmorBattleDamage #BABD

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hopeymchope · 3 years

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Judging the Danganronpa x Sanrio character pairings

You may have already heard that a DANGANRONPA X SANRIO line of crossover merch was announced a few days ago! Which is obviously AMAZING, because they’re combining cutesy characters that have often been marketed to wee children with everybody’s favorite murderdeathkill game! I LOVE IT.

I have a niece who went through a Sanrio/Hello Kitty phase, so I actually know a few of these characters. In turn, this means that I have THOUGHTS on how the DR1 and Sanrio cast were paired up.

Granted, I still had to look up a lot of these guys and read about them. But now I feel adequately educated to the point where I can judge just how well the Danganronpa and Sanrio pairings actually match up.

Makoto Naegi/Cinnamoroll - Obviously this totally works because Makoto IS something of a cinnamon roll, eh? EH? But Cinnamoroll is said to be shy albeit still very friendly. He also likes to seek out fun new adventures. So, aside from “very friendly,” I’m not sure that this sounds like Makoto. I also doubt that calling a character a “cinnamon roll” is common slang in Japan. So this is whatever.

Sayaka Maizono/Wish Me Mell - Mell has the power to connect people’s hearts by simply stating the feelings they keep inside. She was initially withdrawn and believed she didn’t have any friends, but the people who cared for her finally broke through her shell and convinced her that she DOES have friends. So uh, Maizono... I guess music can also bring out people’s feelings? And perhaps you could plausibly HC that Sayaka has often felt like her surrounding friends were “fake” and only there because of her celebrity status. There’s not really much to go on here.

Leon Kuwata/Tiran - Tiran is an orange T-rex that is said to be scatterbrained but still a strong and reliable leader. Meanwhile, Leon has orange hair, and he’s certainly strong and kind of scatterbrained sometimes. It sorta works.

Kyoko Kirigiri/Marroncream - Marroncream is bright, positive, and fashionable. She is talented at making crafts and sweets. She lives in Paris. She has nearly nothing in common with Kyoko, although Kyoko did live abroad a lot in her younger years. So I could try to latch onto the Paris thing.

Hifumi Yamada/Pokopon - Pokopon is a raccoon that loves to read but dislikes ghosts and “the thunder god.” (uh... what?) He also finishes his sentences with the unusual suffix “-das.” Of course, Hifumi loves to write (which certainly is connected to reading), and he likes to end all names with a weird suffix (”-dono”), so I can see how they might make a cute pair.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru/Pekkle - Pekkle is a duck who is good-natured and kind. He loves to sing and dance. It kind of sounds like he should’ve been matched with Sayaka, but instead he’s here with Taka. While Ishimaru is definitely a good person, I don’t think most people would immediately describe him as “kind.” And he certainly isn’t known for his love of music.

Yasuhiro Hagakure/Monkichi - Monkichi is a laid-back, easygoing guy who is upbeat and loves puns. His dream is to become a poet. It’s said that once he sets his mind on something, there is no stopping him! And in comparison, Hagakure is... well, he’s kind of laid-back in the sense that he’s kind of lazy? But he’s actually pretty high-stress a lot of the time, too. Honestly, there’s not much linking the two.

Chihiro Fujisaki/Kurousa and Shirousa - Shirousa is the white one and is the older sibling to Kurousa, the brown one. Shirousa is described as an energetic leader and Kurousa is described as being nice but lazy. They like to make cakes. What does any of this have to do with Chihiro? Beats me. This particular pairing is nonsense.

Byakuya Togami/Badtz-Maru - Badtz-Maru is said to have a bad attitude and dreams of being “the boss of everything” when he grows up. He tends to act a bit selfish, and he mocks things he dislikes/disagrees with. He enjoys expensive food and collecting photos of movie villains. With the exception of that last point, I’d have to say that this sounds like a near-perfect match for Togami.

Mondo Owada/Goropikadon - The Goropikadon are a group of cave boys whose actual names are Goro (blue hair), Pika (pink hair), and Don (teal hair). Goro is always hungry and joking around. PIka is a thoughtful, shy mama’s boy. Don is serious and places a high value on honesty. Overall, I suppose that how quick Mondo is to get angry and resort to violence kind of makes him seem like a stereotypical caveman? But in terms of their distinct personalities, only Don’s focus on honesty rings true for Mondo.

Toko Fukawa/Lloromannic - Another multi-character one. The Llormannic are a pair of creatures named Berry (the black one, who is male) and Cherry (the pink one, who is female). They are mischievous and love to play pranks on humans. Cherry was originally alone and created Berry for companionship; however, she mixed up her magic spell ingredients and used salt when she meant to use sugar, which resulted in Berry turning out to be a more hostile being than Cherry. I suppose the fact that Berry is a darker creation of Cherry’s sort of reflects the relationship between Toko and her other self, Genocide(r) Syo/Jack. However, Berry and Cherry are still best friends. Toko and Syo/Jack are definitely not that.

Celestia Ludenberg/Kuromi - Kuromi is the rival of a bunny named “My Melody” who doesn’t appear in this promotion. Kuromi is said to look “tough and punk” in her jester’s hat with the pink skull on it, but in reality she is very girly. She enjoys writing in her diary, reading romance books, cooking, and checking out good-looking guys. I suppose Celestia did have that dream of living in a mansion where she was served by handsome guys dressed as vampires? So... they both like hot guys? But that’s all I’ve got here. Pretty sure this pairing only exists for aesthetic reasons. And admittedly, their aesthetics mesh very well.

Aoi Asahina/Keroppi - Keroppi lives with his family on the edge of Donut Pond. He is bubbly, a fantastic swimmer and, because of the name of his home pond, is often associated with donuts and/or things that are donut-shaped. Ok, so this was an obvious pairing, then. They nailed it. Probably the single best pairing they came up with.

Sakura Ogami/My Sweet Piano - Yes, the character’s name is literally “My Sweet Piano.” She’s described as soft, kind, and girly. Given Sakura’s secret love of girly things, I can see how this soft, pink, girly sheep would be something she’d love to be around.

Junko Enoshima (...?)/Hello Kitty - Hello Kitty (a.k.a. Kitty White) is described by Sanrio as “cute, bright, sweet, kind-hearted and tomboyish.” They also say that Kitty is very close with her sister, Mimmy. As for Junko... look, the only reason I think maybe this is supposed to be Junko is because Mukuro already has her own Sanrio matchup (see the next entry), but in terms of her appearance, this “Junko” sure looks like it’s “Junkuro.” The telltale sign is that giant bow on the left side of the head, which only Mukuro-as-Junko has ever worn. I doubt we’re supposed to be thinking that they did two Mukuros in two different outfits, though?

It’s like this: If it’s Junko, well, I guess both Junko and Kitty are icons within their respective brands. And Junko tries to put on a “cute and bright” exterior persona, I guess? But that’s pretty thin. On the other hand, if this is Mukuro in disguise, this is actually a semi-decent matchup! Mukuro is arguably tomboyish and certainly very close to her sister (at least from her own perspective), so these two are not without their parallels.

In either case, both Kitty and the Unknown Despair Sister have a big bow on the left side of their head. Which I think is the real reason they’ve been paired, honestly.

Mukuro Ikusaba/Little Twin Stars - Kiki and Lala are a pair of twins that were born on December 24th. Mukuro is one half of a pair of twins ALSO born on December 24th. Instant connection! Kiki (the blue-haired boy) loves fishing and inventing things. He is curious and cheeky. Lala (the pink-haired girl) loves drawing, writing poems, and cooking. She is rather timid. In short, the “twins with the same birthdate” thing is the only thing connecting Mukuro to these two. Still, it’s not bad.

Also, the most amazing thing to come out of this team-up so far HAS TO BE MonoKitty. Hello Kitty cosplaying as our favorite psychotic MurderBear? How great is that? SELL ME MERCH OF MONOKITTY.

#sanrio #danganronpa x sanrio #sanrio characters #danganronpa merch #hello kitty #danganronpa crossovers #danganronpa official art

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pillage-and-lute · 3 years

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Thicker Than Water (Part 4)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (here) Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Ao3 link HERE

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He awoke sore and badly rested, tears dried on his face.

Jaskier made it through the next day. He ate a little of the food Ciri offered him, only because when he tried to decline the first time her eyes got large and her bottom lip showed just the barest hint of a tremble. He couldn’t bear it. The dry horse bread that was usual for traveling rations crumbled in his mouth. He was so hungry, it was one of the best things he’d ever tasted.

Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to even unsling his lute from his shoulder during their trek. His fingers itched to play, of course. He continued his story for Ciri and in his mind he played music for the background, he just couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t sell his lute in this next town, but before they reached Kaer Morhen he would have to. It would give them money, and he wouldn’t be a burden. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and continued telling Ciri the story.

He noticed a bit before mid day that Geralt was watching him. That wasn’t out of sorts, of course. Yennefer and Ciri were watching him too, he was an excellent storyteller and the tale was enthralling. Geralt didn’t seem to be paying attention to the story though. He was staring-- glowering--brow low and furrowed, at Jaskier.

Jaskier felt hurt lance through him and he almost staggered, avoiding Geralt’s gaze. He knew Geralt didn’t want him along, didn’t want him at all, but he couldn’t even pretend? He couldn’t go back to their relationship before? Not the warm, almost companionable silences that had been nurtured between them, but the grunts and stone faced silence of the beginning of their acquaintance.

Jaskier breathed through the pain in his chest. Twenty years of silences, all kinds of them, stony and friendly and sleepy and painful and quietly nice. But they were back to the beginning, or worse, Geralt angry and Jaskier’s voice filling in places it didn’t belong.

“Jaskier?”

That was Ciri, and Jaskier realized that he’d actually trailed off mid-sentence.

“Sorry little highness,” he smiled and gave a funny little bow. “I’m but a simple entertainer, a poet and a fool, sometimes my mind runs away from me.”

“Fool is right,” Yennefer snorted. It wasn’t totally unkind, but it still stung. It stung even more when Geralt, so taciturn all day, snorted with laughter at her comment. Jaskier felt his ears burn and his chest ache.

“Now, where was I?”

“The king’s son met the North Wind,” Ciri said, matching Jaskier’s steps. “And he has to beat him in a game of wit to gain knowledge of where the sorcerer’s daughter was taken, that’s what you said, but you didn’t tell us what game yet.”

At least someone treasured his words, Jaskier thought. Although they weren’t worth much, he threw one out after the other.

Like garbage, whispered the back of his mind.

“Ah yes,” he said instead. “the North Wind sat before the king’s son, and laid out a chess set made of ice and wind.”

“How can chess pieces be made of wind?”

Jaskier smiled, Ciri asked questions at all the right places. “The North Wind wanders, he goes everywhere, blowing cold breath across The Continent. When the North Wind is present and we breath our breath can be seen.” Jaskier smiled here and added an aside, “My little sister used to call it dragon smoke. But by the same magic that gives the North Wind a body to walk the world, he can take our frozen breath and turn it cold and solid as glass.”

Jaskier let himself tell the story on autopilot. His feet ached. He’d been darning the socks he was wearing for a year or more, but he wasn’t good at it and the lumps were rubbing his toes raw. Worse than that, the soles of his boots were almost worn through. Just one more thing he’d have to buy.

He felt ashamed of himself. His boots had been going thin for a while, and instead of saving his coin and getting them repaired or just buying new ones, he’d drowned himself in drink, feeling sorry. Oh, he hadn’t known he would be making a trip up a mountain, but he needed boots regardless. No wonder Geralt had always been upset with him, he always put pleasure over sense, couldn’t even spend coin sensibly.

Couldn’t darn socks, couldn’t budget his coin, couldn’t shut up. A fool.

He stumbled on a tree root and nearly swore. Couldn’t even walk right. One of the blisters building on his foot had burst, he was sure. It was easy to tell, the pain had gone from a rubbing ache to stinging and warm. Only years of practice and performance kept him from interrupting the story.

Something must have shown on his face though, or his scent changed or whatever because Geralt was staring at him intently. That face, always so unreadable.

Jaskier wasn’t going to give him anything else to scowl about. He kept walking, keeping the story rolling and his voice light. His bones ached. He had to stop for just a moment when a button, long past hanging loosely on his doublet, finally pulled free. He picked it up and the head rush nearly took him to the ground. He’d eaten little, slept poorly, and the only food he’d had in a long time before this was ale. He blinked the grey from his vision, trying not to let the panic show when it didn’t go away as quickly as he’d have liked.

It was okay. It was all going to be okay. They’d make it to the village by nightfall. They wouldn’t sleep there of course but he could get proper food. Maybe even slip away and catch a quick nap in a stable or hayloft or something. His whole body was buzzing with a sort of exhausted energy and his heart was pounding.

Jaskier reflected that he hadn’t been well before meeting up with Geralt and his little family. He’d been sick with drink and heartache and had not enough food then too.

Smile through the pain.

This wasn’t even bad as performances could go. Once he’d actually broken a finger just before a set at Oxenfurt. Simple clumsiness, he’d closed his index finger in a door, but he’d played his whole set, with a perfect score from his professor.

It grew darker, the sun just setting when they reached a field at the edge of the town. It was a large open field and, in warmer months, it was likely home to fairs and large market days. Probably in these rural areas people traveled for a week to bring their goods and livestock to this town. It didn’t matter now, mid autumn settling into late autumn. To Jaskier the town was nameless.

They set up camp in the field. It left them exposed to being seen, but they hid themselves behind a small rise on the edge of the field, blocking them mostly from sight. Still, Geralt seemed on edge. Jaskier wasn’t sure it was about the camp. Geralt kept looking over at him with his eyebrows pressed together. Whenever he did that it formed this little crease right between his brows that Jaskier wanted to kiss away.

Jaskier bit his lip, hard, to focus on anything other than that.

The three of them sat, too tired to talk much more. Jaskier had finished most of the story and decided to leave the rest for the next day they were traveling a lot, to give Ciri something else to think about. She was definitely Calanthe’s blood. They traveled all day and she never complained, but also told them when she needed to stop, advocating for herself in no uncertain terms. It was the princess herself who interrupted his thoughts.

“You said you had a sister, do you have lots of siblings?”

“Not really,” Jaskier said, settling down on the ground and feeling his bones pop. His blisters were definitely bleeding inside his boots too. “Two older brothers, Henrik and Teodor, and I had a younger sister, Lotte.”

“Had?”

“She was sickly, always too small for her age,” Jaskier said quietly. “I learned the lute for her, at first. She liked music and was often bedridden. A fever took her when she was about your age.” Jaskier looked down at his battered boots.

“I’m sorry,” Ciri whispered.

“It’s allright little highness, it’s been almost thirty years now. Time flies.”

“I didn’t know you had siblings,” Geralt said. It was growly, but Geralt always used that tone.

“You never really asked.”

Dinner was a quiet affair. Jaskier ate the last of the rations in his pack, waving away Ciri’s offerings and showing her his food as proof that he had some. It didn’t really settle the hunger that had been eating him from the inside out all day, but at this point he figured he could eat a mountain and still have room for dessert.

“Tomorrow,” Geralt said gruffly once dinner was cleared away. “We don’t all enter the town as a group. Yen and Ciri go together. I go alone. Jaskier goes alone.”

Jaskier nodded, so did Ciri and Yennefer.

“If we see eachother, act as though we don’t know eachother,” Geralt said, then he turned his gaze on Jaskier. “Don’t attract too much attention.”

Jaskier bristled at getting his own private reprimand. “I’m a bard, Geralt,” he said. “How am I supposed to earn coin if I don’t play.”

Geralt grunted. “I didn’t say don’t play just no... don’t do the whole...” he gestured a vauge hand.

“The whole...me?” Jaskier said sarcastically. He was pulling at the lion’s tail he knew, but he was in pain and tired and hungry and Geralt had no right to be so cruel.

“The whole bright colors, loud and annoying thing. Country bard, not court bard, got it?”

Loud and annoying.

“Got it,” Jaskier said, looking back down at his boots. He didn’t say that none of his clothes could have passed for courtly anymore anyway.

They set about getting ready for bed. Ciri gave him a quick hug before she and Yennefer disappeared into their magical tent. Jaskier sat and pulled off his boots, not letting a single flicker of pain show on his face. He knew Geralt would be able to smell blood, but Geralt had gone to get water from the nearby river. He had to peel his socks off and yes, there was blood there, by now stuck into the threadbare fabric. He let himself wince then. He rinsed off the wounds but he was without bandages, so he just dried off the area and put his other pair of socks on. He only had the two pairs anyway, but at least the blisters would stay dry.

He rolled himself into his bedroll and thought of tomorrow. At least there were no tree roots here.

The next day dawned slowly, instead of bright pinks and oranges it was a kind of runny yellow that just leeched into the sky before fading into early morning blue. Jaskier watched in admiration as Yennefer changed Geralt’s hair to short and dark, and then gave herself brown eyes and a slightly different bone structure. To look at both of them was odd, because Jaskier could see the similarities. Yennefer’s nose was changed and her cheekbones were a little different, but it was still her, and Geralt just looked like a different, although quite handsome, version of himself. Ciri was simply given mousy brown hair and some extra freckles.

Just like that, the perfect and all powerful family looked like two normal people and one witcher who was still clearly a witcher but not the white wolf. Jaskier shouldered his lute. He’d cleaned up the scruff he’d been growing into a more respectable look and with his longer hair and tatty cloak he looked like any poor traveling musician. If he’d traded the lute for a shortbow he could have looked like a woodsman, totally nondescript.

He was entering from a different direction, so as not to arouse suspicion, and so was Geralt. Jaskier began walking around, so that he could enter from the east. Yen and Ciri would walk into town the closest direction, and Geralt was entering from the west. This early, it was unlikely they would have been seen all together.

Jaskier made his way to the eastern edge of the town and walked in, scanning the streets. If this were a farm people would be up and awake long before now, farmers wake well before dawn, but this was a town, and so few people wandered the streets. Shop keepers were just beginning to open up. Jaskier bought a couple pears, slightly overripe but cheaper because of it, off of a fruit seller and had breakfast. He tried to lock into his mind all the shops around so he could find his supplies easiest later.

His mind was resisting him though. In spite of the softer ground, Jaskier had still slept badly last night. His body ached and he wished he could find somewhere warm to lay for an hour or two. Instead he found the well.

As wells should be, this one was right in the center of town. He set down his lute case beside it, tuned his lovely lady, and began to play.

In his very first few months after leaving Oxenfurt he had learned this trick, and used it often. If you get into a town early, play at the well. People get their water first thing in the morning and there you are.

A few young women with yokes and buckets smiled at him and he nodded in return. The day brightened a little further as the sun crept above the buildings and more people came to gather in the town square. They weren’t there to hear Jaskier, not at first, most of them came for water, or to chat with neighbors, or discuss business. Many of them gathered around him though.

Coins clattered into the case. Mostly coppers, but in a little town like this that was quite normal.

“As sweet Polly Oliver lay musing in bed, A sudden strange fancy came into her head. "Nor father nor mother shall make me false prove, I'll 'list as a soldier, and follow my love,” he sang.

“So early next morning she softly arose, And dressed herself up in her dead brother's clothes. She cut her hair close, and she stained her face brown, And went for a soldier to fair Rinde Town.”

Sweet Polly Oliver was one of his favorites, a simple country song about a girl and her lover in wartime. This town was far enough north that with luck Nilfgaard wouldn’t attack, but the anxiety threatened.

Jaskier gave a good performance, perhaps not his best, but he was tired and cold and the flagstones beneath his feet were very hard. He danced about, playing sweet folk songs and jigs and reels, delighting in the people who swept up and danced along. Still, though, he felt his feet bleeding inside his boots. He played from just after dawn until perhaps an hour after noon before bowing away and taking his coin.

He’d done better than he’d expected, but there wasn’t nearly enough coin for all the things he’d need for Kaer Morhen, and extra food to help Geralt and Ciri. He’d buy what he needed now, and they’d stop again in Ard Carraigh before the keep. He’d sell his lute there, it was a large city, and he’d get a good price. The thought still made him ache, though.

It wasn’t just his emotions causing him pain, he realised. The aches he’d been experiencing were in his chest lately, and both physical and emotional. He just needed more rest.

Jaskier slipped through back alleys and bent streets. He’d seen a stable on his way into town. He stepped in quietly, startling a stable hand, no more than a boy, who’d been quietly talking to a horse.

“You’re the bard,” he said. “Saw you in the square jus’ this morning.”

“That’s right,” Jaskier said, bowing a little. “I’m afraid I’ll be moving on this evening and--”

“And you want to have a kip in the stables,” said the boy. “Yeah lots o’ musicians and peddlers do that. Rule is though, I got to get a coin off ‘em first as payment. I’m sorry, but I get a beating if’n I don’t.”

“No worries,” Jaskier said, he’d expected as much. He handed the boy two copper coins. “There’s pay, won’t have you getting beaten for my sake, the second coin is to wake me in two hours.”

The boy gave him a lopsided grin. “You got it sir, thanks.”

Jaskier snuggled up in the hay loft. He’d often done it, it was pretty common, if you couldn’t buy a stay at an inn or especially if you just needed a ‘kip’ as the boy had said, during the day. He’d slept in haystacks once in a while on the road too. They were sort of comfortable and surprisingly warm and, best of all, robbers didn’t get you if you kept yourself mostly under the hay.

The scent of hay and oats and horses lulled him to sleep.

He dreamed about haystacks. For some reason Roach was in the haystack with him. Geralt and Ciri too, even Yennefer. It was a crowded haystack indeed, and it grew smaller and smaller until Jaskier had to leave it and sleep on the ground so that the others weren’t squished.

He awoke to the stable boy nudging him.

“Pardon me mister,” he said. “But it’s been two hours.”

Jaskier thanked him and brushed off his clothes.

The shops were doing a good trade this afternoon and he’d be sure to be a face in the crowd. He bought a small cooking pot and plenty of ground oats and barley for porridge at one shop. They were light to carry and owner packaged them nicely, first in one cheap, cloth drawstring bag, and then in another such bag, but with the drawstring on a different side, so he was unlikely to lose food.

In another stall he bought plenty of nuts, walnuts were cheap here and would keep well. Good for traveling and they had protein. Some dried jerky, dried peas, and dried lentils finished his food shopping, and also most of his coin.

It was three days to Ard Carraigh, another week to trek up to the keep. The food would sustain him for that long, and they’d probably just pool their food to make sure everyone was fed. Still, he wasn’t being a burden, not too much.

He couldn’t afford new boots, gloves, or a cloak right now, but with the last of his coin he bought a new pair of thick, warm socks, a small roll of bandages, and a couple pieces of candied ginger in a little paper twist. He tucked them all away and left the town, disappearing back to the field and their little camp well before the sun set.

Jaskier’s heart sunk to see that he was the last to arrive. Everything was packed up, they couldn’t risk staying in the same place two nights in a row. Geralt grunted at him, but didn’t unleash any thoughts on Jaskier being a burden, so he counted himself lucky.

He hung his head a little at having delayed their parting and trekked after the perfect little family, his pack much heavier than it had been. Ciri slid her hand into his and they walked on in silence. The hand was nice though.

In an odd way, it hurt, too. He wasn’t part of the family, so he didn’t really deserve this, but it was painfully good to have just a taste of being wanted.

What would happen, he wondered, when the winter was over. He was a danger to Geralt and Ciri if Nilfgaard found him. He wasn’t wanted by Geralt at all. Jaskier was reminded once again that it would be so much easier for Geralt to kill him, or for Yennefer to wipe his memory. Maybe he could fake his death to get Nilfgaard of his trail.

“Jaskier?” Ciri asked. “How did you become a bard?”

Jaskier looked down at her, maudlin thoughts interuppted. “Oh, well, it’s not as though you have to register, you just become one. Walking into an inn and saying ‘let me play for you pretty please I need food’ is a good start.”

“No,” Ciri giggled. “I meant, you said you learned the lute for your sister, but you write your own music and stuff too.”

“Oh, well, anyone can write music if they have an instrument and a good enough memory,” Jaskier said. “Indeed, many of the greatest bards had little education at all, I, however, studied at Oxenfurt.”

“Did you like it?”

“Sometimes. It was school, and some parts were dull but I learned much.”

“I heard some of the maids giggling once about a young scholar who’d come to stay with us,” Ciri said, matter of factly. “He was always in the library and was kind of snooty with me when I asked questions, but the maids were saying he certainly had a lot of ‘carnal knowledge’. Did you study that too?”

Jaskier was choking on thin air.

“I, um, no it was more of a hobby,” Jaskier said before his head could catch up with his mouth. “Little Highness, I suspect you weren’t supposed to hear that conversation, and no, I studied the seven liberal arts.”

“So it was about sex, I was never sure,” Ciri said.

Jaskier coughed awkwardly. “Yes, princess.”

“It’s okay, I know about that stuff, Grandmother explained it.”

Jaskier let out a breath, at least he wouldn’t have to be the one to explain anything to her.

“When you went to school were you scared to leave your family?” Ciri asked.

“No, pet, I was excited to go,” he wasn’t about to get into all his trauma with her, she had enough of her own, poor thing. “I couldn’t wait to learn about music and poetry.”

“Grandmother said all poets were silly romantics and dreamers, but I think that sounds nice. Do you have a moose?”

“A what?”

“I read it in a book, a moose, somebody you love and you write about it.”

“Oh, that’s one of the trickier words Ciri, it’s said ‘muse’, and yes, I had one or two.”

“Only one or two? In the book the poet had hundreds,” Ciri sounded almost disappointed.

“I only ever needed one,” Jaskier said quietly. “One that mattered anyway.”

“And your Countess still left you,” Geralt said, rather coldly. He was doing his annoyed face and Jaskier could have kicked himself. He’d been talking too much. The reminder that the Countess de Stael had left him too hurt, but Jaskier wasn’t going to risk Geralt’s ire to say that she wasn’t the muse he was talking about. That was maybe something he should keep to himself.

“Do muses often leave?” Ciri asked, wide eyed. “If somebody was writing me poetry I wouldn’t want to.”

“No, usually the poet does the leaving,” Jaskier said. “After his muse asks him to go. There’s a shelf life on a bard, you know. We only have so many stories and songs before we’re used up and no one wants us around anymore. That’s when we move along.”

“I’ll hear your stories again and again,” Ciri said. “I won’t ask you to go.”

Jaskier’s heart curled up and whimpered inside his chest. He’d have to go sooner or later, he’d have to leave her. Geralt would get sick of him, too sick to bear even for Ciri’s sake. Or Jaskier would just have to leave of his own volition, lest he shovel shit into her life too.

If he could give her life one blessing...

“This’ll do for a campsite,” Geralt said. It was a tiny, clear area. Jaskier almost groaned. It was surrounded by oak trees, with dropped acorns that would dig into his bedroll and mottle his back with bruises come morning. He’d had a good rest in town, though, so another bad night of sleep wouldn’t be too bad, he told himself.

The others had eaten in town. Jaskier said he had too, so he wouldn’t waste rations. He had plenty, but strangely, he wasn’t so hungry lately. Anyway, always best to save.

He pulled off his boots and his freshly bloodied socks. Ew. Ciri retired to the magic tent early, exhausted from their long days of walking. Jaskier listened to Yennefer and Geralt talk.

“We’ll need lots of supplies in Ard Carraigh,” Geralt was saying.

“We don’t have any money,” Yennefer replied.

Jaskier had his back to them as he cleaned the wounds on his feet, but he could picture grave expressions.

“We’ll get some, I’ll do a quick contract there, something. We’ll need a cart and pony to get Ciri up The Killer, it’s too much for her, it’s too hard for some witchers even.”

“That’ll cost,” Yennefer said. “But you’re right. I wish I could portal us but--”

“Tracking, exactly. There’s always plenty of contracts in cities, it’ll be fine.”

Jaskier looked at the blisters on his foot, they’d opened more with his long performance that day. It was no matter, he wound the bandages around them and put on his new, thick socks. At least his feet would be warm.

Not too warm, though. He spotted a hole in the bottom of his boot that he hadn’t noticed before.

And they needed lots of money for Ard Carraigh. No matter. He knew how to get some.

He pretended his eyes filled with tears from the pain of blisters, not from heartache, as he pushed his feet back into his boots and opened the lute case. He pulled out his beautiful girl. He wouldn’t play her, it would annoy Geralt. He’d always hated Jaskier’s music, although he hated to hear Jaskier sing even more.

Pie with no filling.

Jaskier wished he could play her, though. It was going to break his heart to part with her, and he didn’t think he’d ever played another instrument as fine. If he could, he’d play her every second until he had to sell her.

Probably for the best, though, if he was going to fake his death. She was distinctive.

He brushed a hand over the beautiful wood work on her front. There was a little bit of linseed oil left, and he poured it on the rag he kept in the case and began to work over his girl lovingly. His eyes teared up again, but he fought it back. He would have smashed his lute if it meant helping Ciri. And Geralt.

Jaskier longed for Geralt to forgive him, to take him back and let him stay by his side, but he’d meant what he’d said, bards have a shelf life, and Jaskier’s time was up.

He wished Geralt would at least speak with him, though. His heart was aching. In a completely different sense, so was his chest.

“Play us a tune, bard,” Yennefer said.

Jaskier turned around. Yen and Geralt were sitting beside eachother, close together. She looked so beautiful in her fine cloak that Jaskier wondered how he ever thought he could catch Geralt’s eye when beings like her existed.

“You know,” he said. “It’s late and I wouldn’t want to bother Ciri.”

“Tent’s soundproof,” Yennefer said, waving her hand.

“I mean, really,” Jaskier protested weakly. Disobeying Yennefer’s request/command was like bathing your brain in lava, but Geralt was looking angry again. Some would say there wasn’t much change from Geralt’s normal expression, but Jaskier knew his face better than he knew his own. Something had made Geralt angry or upset. The only possible answer was Jaskier. It was always Jaskier.

“Play us a song, bard,” Yennefer said. “You’ve been so quiet other than stories, I’d almost think you were a doppler, Melitele knows no one could have taught you to shut up.”

Jaskier swallowed the lump in his throat.

He began, slowly, to pick out a gently tune on his lute. It was a song about winter and home, and he knew the lyrics well. Yennefer had only asked him to play, so he would. His music was at least less offensive than his voice.

He reveled in the feel of his lute beneath his fingers, letting the feeling wash over him, committing it to memory.

When he was finished Yennefer said, “I suppose your voice was tired from your performance, I heard in the town how the bard had played such a long set.”

Jaskier smiled grimly back at her. “Just earning my keep.”

He went to bed, feeling the cold seep into his bones.

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Tag List!

@frywen-babbles @mordoriscalling @thedarkestangel1 @kerfufflezz @live-long-and-trek-on @holymotherwolf @gryffinqueen

@samukai @charlies-dragon I can’t seem to tag, but they’re on the list

#geraksier #adhd Jaskier #the witcher #angst #jaskier #geralt #yennefer #ciri #platonic yennalt #yennefer is a good mom #and deserves nice things #kaer morhen #soon but not yet #emotional hurt/comfort #just hurt now #the comfort is yet to come

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loyally-unfaithful · 3 years

Text

—; it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas.

word count: 3.6k

pairing: razor/gn!reader; razor/traveler

genre: fluff

summary: « i remember… purple mentor say ‘mistletoe’ a big part of weihnachten. »

you looked at the plant in slight bewilderment, not quite sure what to make of this offering. it was cute.

« oh. »

razor stares expectantly at you as you watch him make no further attempt to move. you can’t help the laugh that escapes you, the banality of everything setting into your mind. or maybe you’re getting sleepy. you wonder: « do you know why, razor? »

a/n: secret santa secret santa secret santa anyway, this is my side of the secret santa gift for @absolutely-rational—i chose to write a thing for razor, but i barely play the game and i haven’t met him or own him* or anything so i apologise if it’s a little ooc ,,,, merry christmas and happy holidays ^^

p.s. as the man who’s good at saying very little in way too many words, the length of this fic just exploded and it’s alot longer than what i wanted it to be dskljfsldkja

heads-up

i write dialogues in what i will call the french/european system? anyway, i see that it's not the dialogue formatting that most english readers are accustomed to so i modified it slightly to be easier to understand basically dialogues will be within guillemets (« »), and words that are within the quotation marks but are italicised are actions and/or dialogue verbs.

hope that clears things out a bit and i hope you give me and my fic a chance :)

« weih… nachten…? »

he tilts his head slightly, not unlike a dog. what’s that? razor repeats your words slowly, tentatively, enunciating the foreign word with care. he wonders if the words sound strained coming from him. words are hard.

« that’s right! it’s a large festival in teyvat, and even more so in the city! you elaborated, sensing his confusion. here in mondstadt it’s called weihnachten and it’s supposed to be about, you know, spending time with friends and family, passing around gifts and presents to those you care about. »

you soon felt at ease as you continued: this world had its differences, but it had its similarities. it had its own equivalent of christmas. something that you know about. sure, maybe the origin is different, maybe it had different customs and traditions, but it was a comforting familiarity in the midst of everything that’s so staggeringly foreign. then again, you suppose that’s what drew you closer to the silver-haired boy: neither of you truly fit in, nor fully understood the strange world you happen to be in.

though at the very least, razor had his lupical. as bittersweet as it was, it warmed your heart to know that at least he had family to be around with during christmas, and well, around… in general.

« weihnachten. he says, this time with more conviction. how to celebrate? – well for starters, (where do you even begin?) we’d decorate our homes with all sorts of festive trinkets and we’d fill the streets with all sorts of sparkly things. garlands, lights, flowers, ribbons; decorations that’ll spruce up the place and make the city light up. it always made people cheer up and get in the holiday mood, especially at night when the fairy lights twinkle about! »

razor’s mouth moved in a silent gasp. then does that mean that those bright stars he liked so much were not stars, but rather lights? is that why they seemed to be brighter near the end of the year? the people from the city decorated, he considered. is that why the stars’ reflection, bouncing around in the lake, were an array of dazzling colours, from glittering red and shimmering green to captivating shade’s who’s name he doesn’t know?

« is why… sometimes stars explode? he wondered. – yup! though we don’t usually light up fireworks until new year’s. you wondered for a moment. do you like fireworks, razor? the silver-haired boy frowned, lost in thought, before shaking his head. – loud. scary. me and my lupical, we go hide. we don’t like… firework. »

you hummed in understanding. dogs have never been fond of fireworks and firecrackers either.

« fire is bad. why light firework? isn’t it big hassle? »

it reminded razor of the red, burny girl. fun person, friend! but the toys she uses are loud and dangerous, they create explosions and fire, just like fireworks.

« hmm, i guess… you pursed your lips in thought. good question. i guess that at this point we all just do it out of tradition. new year’s brings a lot of excitement, and people let it out by lighting them up. it’s also really pretty. »

the more he thought about it, and the more he learned about it, the less he understood the celebration. why? it’s loud and distracting. bright colours hurt eyes, doesn’t it? it’s time spent with your family, but razor is with his lupical everyday. do humans… not spend time with their lupical regularly? why is this specific day so special from the rest of the year? he doesn’t get all the funny dates and celebrations humans have to keep track of. seems like a big hassle. sounds complicated.

« no such thing as weihnachten in wolvendom, huh? »

he shook his head.

you tucked your finger under your chin, pondering, in slight puzzlement. back in your world, you would’ve been able to take pictures—maybe that would’ve helped him visualise it better—but you couldn’t here in teyvat. a sigh. anyway, it’s not like you had your camera on your person anymore, so you do your best to describe your happiest sensations, experiences, memories of christmas: the smell of hot cocoa on a cool winter morning, the crackle of firewood from the hearth, and the feeling of soft wool on your skin, hugging you from the biting cold. the merry and jovial carols sung by the star singers, the gleeful chattering between friends out on the street, and the boisterous cheering and partying coming from the many bars and restaurants in mondstadt. the comforting arias and prayers echoing from within the cathedral, the mouth-watering aroma and fragrance of treats from the christmas market, and the grand christmas tree placed at the heart of the city decorated with even more opulent and lavish garlands and baubles, the vivid glimmering lights reflected from your eyes.

describe the different little things that made christmas different and more special from the rest of the year.

somehow this time that you took to pay the wolf boy a visit was consumed by you rambling about the merry holiday, drivel that he listened to attentively and with a pure and honest kind of curiosity (even if he doesn’t always understand you) that you found endearing and made your heart flutter, until the sun dipped below the horizon and the stars adorning the city shined out, rivalling those peppering the night sky. until the howls from his family called him away from you, and until you motivated yourself to begin your trek back to mondstadt after sitting in the woods alone.

being with him was always a welcome distraction, you thought.

december 25th.

paimon was dozing off after stuffing her face full of the dishes from the christmas banquet (good for her!), the cup of tea you had between your hands had gotten cold, and your breath was fogging the frosted window in front of your desk. you mindlessly traced a smiley face on condensation. you can see the ever changing colourful lights blinking through the glass pane. you take another gulp of the unpleasant liquid, unsatisfying as you feel it slowly go down your throat. the calming and comforting scent it brought (it was chamomile) having long dissipated.

sighing, you pulled your fingers off the cold china, deciding it wasn’t worth finishing, and quietly slipped out of your room (which was graciously granted to you by the knights of favonius), taking care to slot the chair back under the desk and gently close the door behind you. you wondered if taking a walk would help you feel better. you tightened your shawl around you and buried your freezing hands into your pockets. head down, you quickened your pace to… wherever your legs were taking you.

another sigh.

you smiled almost bitterly to how much of a grinch you were being. you liked christmas, or rather, you liked what it stood for, and you liked the idea of spending the winter months with your closed ones.

a few hours ago, the knights of favonius had organised a small christmas party at angel’s share, and though they had thoroughly reassured you that you belonged and were included in this celebration, you couldn’t help but keep to yourself and stick to a corner of the bar. you couldn’t bring yourself to join in on the fun, or talk to others. you didn’t feel like it was your place to force yourself into their conversation, into their lives. you were grateful that they thought about you, and you didn’t want to question their kindness, but… you nursed your glass of virgin cocktail, peeling your eyes away from your wonky reflection on the liquid.

you weren’t exactly at home: you looked at jean and barbara, happily exchanging jokes and teases. a relaxed sort of conversation, banter which flowed, almost as if it were rehearsed, in a way that was only possible between sisters. that night, the deaconess wasn’t smiling as if she was holding back tears. the carefree girl was speaking with jean (rather than the acting grand master) who allowed herself some respite from the demanding position.

you look at the uncharacteristic smile on the bartender’s (who happened to be none other than diluc that evening) face, and you doubted that kaeya, sharp-eyed as ever, missed it either. it was subtle. but it was there. you don’t miss the way the cavalry captain held back on his sarcastic remarks or the way diluc wasn’t being “deliberately uncivil” (as kaeya would put it) either; the way the red-head indulges kaeya’s seemingly insatiable thirst for alcohol while the latter makes an effort to maintain a friendly, if curt, chatter.

a particularly loud giggle drew your gaze back at the two sisters: lisa seemed to have joined them. you sipped your beverage, half-hearted. the three seemed to have started a rather animate discussion. you hear them laugh again. it makes you frown, but you shake your head, pushing those angry thoughts out of your mind. just because you’re miserable (even though you shouldn’t be—your friends are with you) doesn’t mean they have to feel down with you.

setting your glass down on the table, you wondered if you would've felt better if you were with someone closer to your age, but amber had gone home early: she dropped by and hung out for a bit before going home to spend time with her family. your glass is empty now. you feel… envious. you wished you could spend this christmas season with your family. it’s not fair. it’s not fair.

your favonian family, and yet you were out of place.

you excused yourself early from the gathering, the other members politely bidding you farewell and a merry christmas (« frohe weichnachten! »), and quickly went up the path leading to the order’s headquarters, wanting to hide away in your room as soon as possible.

now, you stop before the lavish tree: it’s as grand and brilliant as it’s always been. but now it seems much too bright. the colours an eyesore. singing sounds more like knives being dug into your eardrums.

your head hurts.

a humourless chuckle escaped you. you used to take turns with your sibling on who got to slot in the christmas topper.

this year was their turn.

back then, your sibling made a point to hang gingerbread treats on the tree, and you made a point to eat them behind their back come christmas morning.

normally, you’d be sharing gifts with your sibling during this time of the year.

your entire life they’ve always been there by your side, and you by theirs. for better or for worse, you kept each other company. you’ve always spent christmas with them.

this was your first christmas without.

the rest of your thoughts are jumbled, incoherent. something your long term memory didn’t deem worthy of keeping, so they simply fizzled away. everything was a blur as your feet carried you outside the city, away from… it doesn't matter. just away. carried you away. happiest time of the year. but you’re here alone, with no one you know and to call home in a world you don’t recognise. far away from the land you once knew.

panting, you stopped in your tracks when you realised you’ve started sprinting. what were you doing, you chastised yourself. can’t you act a little more mature? finally lifting your gaze, you took in your surroundings; instinctively your feet must’ve taken you to wolvendom. you kicked a stray pebble under your boot. not like that afterthought was going to help much. it’s not like anyone was waiting for you here either, razor was probably with his lupical. hunting or snoozing away.

with little care, you let out an exasperated sigh as you let yourself plop ungracefully to the ground, listless.

you sit there in silence, nothing to accompany you except for the cacophonous ringing of crickets in the forest. you drew your knees closer to you. what were you doing here? it’s cold. you hear thistle crack, and so you defensively draw your sword as you rose to your feet, only to be met with a familiar mop of fluffy silver hair.

« it’s night. dangerous here. »

was his curt greeting. you lowered your sword, shoulders relaxing.

you opened your mouth, ready to apologise, make up some sort of excuse, let him know you’re leaving, when something else caught your eye: « you kept the scarf? »

he blinked. once, twice: « you gave it to me. he said, very matter-of-factly. you are my lupical. it is… treasure… razor paused, correcting himself. treasured, possession. »

having realised that the intruder was not dangerous, the wolf boy came closer and gently pressed his forehead against yours and nuzzled your face. a small laugh escaped you as you returned the affectionate gesture, something you’ve learned was his customary greeting. it was cold out, but his touch was enough to bring feeling back to your cold self and make you warm and fuzzy inside.

still resting your head on his, you asked, timidly: « is it ok if i stay here for a bit? » it came out as a whisper, unsure if you’re any better staying here rather than back in the city. but as he nodded in agreement, your shoulders loosened as you let go of tension you weren’t aware you were building up again. you slumped into him, burying your face into him and held him in a loose hug. razor, as for him, let himself be snuggled to your heart’s content, happy to receive such fondness.

« today is special day, isn’t it? » his blood-red eyes peered inquisitively back at you, arms wrapping around you as he tries to remain as close to you as physically possible.

« mhm. » you mumbled non-commitally into his shoulder, opting to pull yourself closer to him and nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

« not go celebrate in city? » razor asked, perplexed. he thought that you said this was a big celebration to be had around other people? despite his bemusement, he rested his chin on the top of your head. it makes him all warm and soft inside, the thought of you choosing to spend this special day with him of all people. it makes him happy. he hopes you’re happy too. the wold boy gives you a once-over and his brows creased in slight worry: you’re really quiet today. why?

« uh-uh. » you grunted, shaking your head against his shoulder, your hair brushing against his clothes. the chunky scarf you gave him, the one you were convinced he was going to throw out due to its garish colours, tickled your exposed skin. he kept it. you smiled, touched. he kept it. it still smelled faintly of fabric softener, but marked by the smell of pine trees and something sweet, something you associated with brewing thunderstorms. you’ve always found rain and thunder to be comforting.

being with razor comforts you.

he wasn’t much of a talker. you both knew this. silence is ok though. he’s happy to be with you. but razor wonders why you’re so quiet today. concern flashes through his mind and he turns your gaze upwards, making you face him. you can’t possibly imagine what pathetic expression you were pulling and you quickly try to cover your despondence—but it was a fruitless venture.

« you smell sad. he watched you, a worried look on his face. »

you scrambled for some explanation, reassuring him that it’s nothing. that you’re not being a downer. that you’re happy. but he’s decided: « wait here. »

knowing that there was no restraining him once he’s made up his mind, especially when it’s something to do with the ones he considered close to him, you reluctantly let razor peel you off of him. as you watch him scurry away, you find yourself dearly missing his warmth, the comfort and safety of his arms. was staying here a good idea? you wrapped your arms around yourself. maybe you should leave. you’re ruining the mood. you’re disturbing wolvendom’s peace. before you could finish that line of thought, the wolf boy returned, this time carrying a handful of… something with him.

they threatened to tumble out of his grasp, but ultimately stayed put as he returned to his original position and held them out into your general direction, showcasing whatever he had procured. in his hands were multiple plants which bore small scarlet berries and oval, evergreen leaves. a plant you immediately recognised.

« i remember… purple mentor say ‘mistletoe’ a big part of weihnachten. »

you looked at the plant in slight bewilderment, not quite sure what to make of this offering. it was cute.

« oh. »

he blinked, clueless, before looking at the mistletoes in his hand with confusion, coming to the realisation that no, he didn’t actually know why it’s so important. it’s not edible. maybe because it’s pretty? the city has many red lights and white lights. some mistletoes are red and others are white?

he continues to stare at the berry, as if it would cave in and reveal its secrets to him if he sustained his efforts. taking his prolonged silence as his answer (though you had expected for him to not actually know—knowing lisa, she would’ve just offhandedly mentioned them. and when razor would’ve asked her about what they meant, she’d just smile without answering him), you filled him in, your voice filled with mirth: « people usually kiss underneath mistletoes. »

he turned his gaze back to you before voicing the conclusion he had come to: « this mean, i have to kiss you? »

you chuckled. « only if you want to. »

he looks at the plant, giving it a long hard look, then back at you.

it wasn’t much, it wasn’t spectacular. hell, it was more of a ghost of a kiss than anything. but you still smiled as his lips brushed on yours. a peck, which lasted too long yet not long enough. awkward, but endearing. your textbook first kiss, including the warm fluttery feeling of butterflies that so often preached about, if only a little more clumsy.

it’s cute.

he’s so genuine, earnest, in his endeavours. it makes your heart soar. he’s sweet. you don’t deserve this kindness but he gives them away without a second thought.

you don’t deserve to be happy during christmas, especially not when your sibling was still out there, alone and potentially afraid. maybe, no, it definitely is selfish for you to enjoy this day. pretend like everything is alright just for this one moment. that you’re not some traveler stuck in a strange and unknown world, that you’re not desperately trying to find your sibling and a way out. act carefree, and get to be you. but goddammit does he make you so so happy that your heart clenches and that you can’t help but smile from ear to ear. you deserve to be miserable today; you feel like shit, really. but you’re also really happy, and glad, and relieved, and maybe a little tired.

it’s all too much, and you feel so much at once that you just don’t know how to handle this anymore. overwhelmed. you smiled and laughed giddily as the waterworks started (despite your best efforts), and you’re a mess, and definitely a bit sleepy, but you’re stupidly happy today. stupidly happy because of him.

this alarmed the boy, watching you laugh between hiccups, sobbing despite wearing a large smile. for humans, tears are sad. smiles are happy. were you ok? he’s confused. did he do something wrong?

« why crying? » he fretted, slightly panicked. he jumped to fuss over you, wipe away your tears, gently cradling your face with a gentleness that you would’ve never thought he was capable of when you first met.

you laughed as you wiped your face. « these are happy tears. » you try to explain.

he’s your home. your lupical. someone you’re at rest with, and safe with. you love him.

your words get caught in your throat, unable to express everything you want to tell him. so instead, you engulf him in a hug. something he was caught off guard from, stiffening, but quickly relaxed and embraced you back. still a little unsure, he comforts and reassures you the only way he knows how: patting your head. when he’s down head pats makes him feel better. he hopes you’ll feel better.

« thank you. » you said softly, shakily, sniffling. thank you for being here. thank you for being you.

you’re not as alone as you thought, you never really were. together, in your own small corner of the world. your home: razor.

as you cuddled together, passing the time by naming and pointing at the celestial canvas above you, you realised: maybe this year, as unfortunate as it had been, didn’t have to end on a bad note. at some point, razor had shared his ridiculously large scarf with you, wrapping it around the both of you. and slowly, your words slowed, your breaths evened out. you pressed more of your weight against him as you felt your eyes droop. you’re safe. you’re with razor. you’ll fall asleep, and when you wake up he’ll be there. as drowsiness takes you over, you think to yourself ‘yeah, i’m happy.’

you’re happy here. in this one time, one place, with razor, you’re happy.

and you hope that wherever they are, your sibling is happy too. and that they’ll forgive you for being selfish, for being happy despite everything.

you hoped that your mirror image had someone to spend christmas with.

somewhere—someone they felt at rest with.

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#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #razor x reader #genshin x reader #razor genshin impact #falselywrites #hope you like it ^^#trigger warning for bad use of german lmaoo #op learned about german and suddenly acts like hes an expert #if i knew mondstadt had so many references to german i wouldve paid more attention to duolingo #btw its implied established relationship but its not mentioned lol

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ipuckwithhockey · 4 years

Text

Always in Your Corner- Boone Jenner

a/n: So i wrote a Boone fic. This is at least a 5 parter, and I have the next few parts written. Let me know what you think. I hope y’all enjoy it!

Summary: You were happily engaged to your perfect boyfriend when everything came tumbling down on you. The person you turned to just so happened to be your long time friend, Boone Jenner. The ever loyal Boone is there to help you get back on your feet. Little did you know, Boone had been pining after you for all these years, he’s just not sure if you’ll ever feel the same way about him.

Warnings: Cheating, Swearing, Anxiety if you squint, Sex, talk about sex and the use of protection

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

Boone met you years ago when you were doing a two semester internship with the Blue Jackets. Boone’s career had just started to take off and you were still in your undergrad. Although you were only at your internship a few days a week, you quickly got to know the guys on the team. Now, all these years later, you had a marketing job in Columbus and you were still friends with the boys.

You and Boone really hit it off all those years ago, and you’ve become close friends. However, no matter how many times your friends chirped the two of you about dating, neither of you ever crossed that line of friendship. You loved Boone, but just as a friend. And you knew he felt the same way about you. Or at least you thought he did.

Unbeknownst to you, Boone had been pining after you since the day you met. Back then you guys were just kids, and once he settled on the fact that you would never see him as anything more than a friend he tried to brush off his feelings as a small crush. After your internship ended you continued to hang out with the guys on the team. Boone had watched you go out with a number of different guys and for a while he thought he had grown out of his feelings for you. It wasn’t until Craig came around that he realized he was still very much in love with you.

Craig was now your fiancé of almost four months, and your boyfriend of three years. He was going to law school while you were in PT school, and a mutual friend had set you up. He was the perfect guy. He was handsome and smart, and said all the right things. He was romantic and sweet... and good in bed. There really wasn’t a single thing wrong with him. You fell hard and fast, and it seemed like the first year of your relationship flew by. On your one year anniversary he asked you to move in with him. Then, this summer while you were on vacation with your family, he popped the question. You couldn’t have been happier.

Boone on the other hand was crushed. He knew that the reason he disliked Craig so much was because he really was perfect. It was always easy to pick out major flaws with the other guys you had gone out with, but even Boone had a hard time hating Craig. He was a nice guy who treated you right. Boone even thought that had Craig not been dating the love of his life, they would have actually been good friends. It’s not that Boone was rude to Craig, he was always friendly, and they had gotten to know each other pretty well, but he could never get over the fact that at the end of the night you were going home with a guy that wasn’t him.

Being the good friend that he was, Boone was always supportive of your relationship because he knew Craig made you happy. He wanted you to be happy, but that didn’t stop him from feeling sad for himself when you called to tell him you were engaged.

That was the end of July, and now it was November. The season had started and quickly picked up pace. The Jackets were doing well, but because of how busy you had been with work you hadn’t made it to a game in a while. The last time you saw Boone may have been their season opener. Between work and planning a wedding for the following year, you didn’t have much free time. Boone understood, and his busy schedule never made a social life easy anyway. That’s why it was even more surprising to see you behind his front door that night. He was just cleaning up from dinner when he heard a knock. Thinking it was just a neighbor he quickly went to open it, but when he did he was greeted with you. You were still dressed in your work clothes and he assumed you had come straight from your work.

“Hey! I didn’t forget we made plans did I?”

You follow him in the door and take off your jacket as you head for his couch. “No, I just needed somewhere to think that wasn’t my house or work, and your place is about half way between the two so it seemed like a good option.” You’ve barely even looked at Boone and the concentrated look on your face tells him there’s definitely something on your mind. When you got into your head like this you couldn’t be stopped. You just had to think it out on your own. But when Boone offered you some water, and you requested a glass of wine instead, he realized this was probably a little more serious than what color the bridesmaid dresses should be.

“So are you going to tell me what’s going on?” He hands you the wine glass and you just shake your head. You still needed to think some more before you were ready to talk. It wasn’t uncommon for you to go to Boone with your problems, you were close and he was someone you felt comfortable talking about anything with, but this was something that if you said it out loud it might just become real, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that yet.

Nearly 20 minutes pass before you look over at Boone who was scrolling through his phone. He looks back at you and sets his phone down thinking you might be ready to talk, but instead you just turn away again.

Your glass of wine is long gone, and knowing that you have to get home you don’t ask for a second. It’s been almost an hour since you got to Boone’s and you still haven’t spoken a word since you greeted him. You’re not sure what to do at this point, so you think that leaving may be your best answer. You start to get up and walk towards his door, but he catches your arm as you round the corner of the couch.

“Woah woah woah. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but if there’s something serious going on you can talk to me. You know I’ll always be there for you.” This is the Boone you loved. The loyal to a fault, caring, Boone. The genuine concern he has in his eyes is what gets you. You swear he’s like a puppy, you just can’t say no to him.

You let out a big breath before looking back at him, “I think Craig cheated on me.”

It’s the first time you’ve set it aloud, and you can feel a sense of panic rush in.

Boone isn’t even sure he heard you right.

Cheated on you?

Craig?

What the fuck.

What Boone is sure of is that you wouldn’t just throw an accusation like that around without being pretty damn sure you were right.

“Wait. What? Why do you think he cheated on you?”

“Well, about a week ago I was doing laundry and I found a condom in his work pants.”

You say it so casually, and Boone isn’t really sure what the problem is, “Okay… Why does that mean he cheated on you?”

“Because I’m allergic to latex. And the condom I found wasn’t latex free. I know I sound kind of crazy but we’ve been together for three years and one, he would never buy a condom that was made with latex, and two, we rarely even use condoms…”

There are a few other reasons too, like the fact that you barely see each other. Between your two jobs you’ve been super busy the last couple of months. Craig was working crazy hours trying to make partner at his firm, and you had been brushing off his lack of interest in you for him being stressed at work. You also hadn’t had sex in nearly a month. The lack of conversation combined with the lull in your sex life didn’t seem like that big of a deal until that damn condom showed up, but when you saw it you knew.

While you’re talking about your sex life Boone is mentally trying not to puke at the thought of another man touching you. Not only that, but he’s boiling at the thought of a man treating you this way. He’s not here to be a jealous friendzoned idiot, he’s here because you’re in crisis, and he has to remind himself of that before he speaks again.

“Y/N, what are you going to say to him?”

This is another reason why you didn’t want to say anything before. You weren’t sure if you were even going to mention it to Craig. You were supposed to be getting married next year. He had just proposed in July. There was no way he didn’t love you. Right? He wouldn’t have asked you to marry him, just to turn around and cheat on you a couple months later. Right?

You’re afraid to look at Boone’s puppy dog eyes so you just keep looking at the floor when you finally reply, “I don’t know… I don’t know if I’m even going to say anything.”

Again, Boone is shocked by your words. He might be more shocked at this statement, than the actual news of Craig’s indiscretions.

“I’m sorry but the fuck do you mean you’re not going to say something? Y/N, if you’re so sure that he cheated on you why the fuck are you just going to let it go?”

He’s pissed, and you can tell. His boldness takes you by a bit of surprise but you’re quick to retort, “Boone, to be honest I shouldn’t have even mentioned it to you. This is between me and Craig. I don’t expect you to understand, but we’re ENGAGED. We’re getting married. He loves me, and I love him, and if he messed up once then maybe I just don’t need to know about it. Everybody makes mistakes.”

It’s like you know you’re lying to yourself in the moment, but the weight of the ring on your left hand is telling you to ignore that feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“How is this “between you and Craig” if you never even talk about it with him?? How can you just ignore this? This isn’t like you.”

“Well Boone, it’s really not up to you... It’s late. I should get home.” You turn and head for the door, and Boone doesn’t stop you. When he hears the door slam behind you he’s seething from knowing that the ‘perfect Craig’ cheated on you and that you were just going to let it go.

When you wake up the next morning Craig had already left for work, and you turn your phone on to find a text from Boone.

Booner: I’m sorry about last night, you know I just want you to be happy. Don’t forget I’m always be in your corner.

You know he means what he says, but you can’t bring yourself to confront Craig. If you can’t do that then you know you can’t reply to Boone, not when deep down you know that he’s right.

——

It’s been almost two weeks since you opened Boone’s message, and you still hadn’t replied. He tried calling a couple times but you haven’t heard from him in days. Boone knew that eventually you would come to your senses, or at least he hoped that you would. Even if you didn’t end up with Boone, he knew you deserved to be with someone better than Craig. Against everything else in your body something in you told you that you were going to make this work. You loved Craig. He loved you.

You left work early that day and when you got home you changed into a new lingerie set that had been collecting dust for weeks in your closet. When Craig got home you greeted him, and like any man, he was thrilled at the site of a woman in lace.

You thought that maybe sex would help bring some fire back into your relationship, but it didn’t work the way you thought it would. The sex was quick and when he finished he didn’t even bother getting you off. He just rolled off you and headed for the bathroom.

That night as you heard him snoring next to you, you laid awake knowing it was true. You couldn’t keep kidding yourself. He wasn’t the perfect guy you had met three years ago. You had to talk about this, and even then there was a part of you that hoped you would be able to work though this.

You’re not sure if you even slept that night, but you get up before he does and you decided that it was time. As you quietly get ready for the day you try to decide how you’ll bring it up. How are you supposed to confront someone who cheated on you? They definitely didn’t teach this in your PT classes…

You decide to grab the condom in question from where you hid it in your bedside table, and you set it on a plate at the kitchen island. As you move around preparing your breakfast you hear him get out of the shower and you know he’ll be coming out any minute. When he eventually rounds the corner he’s dressed in a suit and is looking down at his phone. It’s not until a couple minutes later that he even sees the condom sitting, in all of its glory, on your kitchen island.

“Babe? Why is there a condom on our counter?”

You turn around to face him and look him right in the eyes. “I found it… I found it in the pocket of your pants two weeks ago.”

“Ok, It’s just a condom…” He’s a good lawyer and therefore a good liar, but you know this man like the back of your hand and you know you’ve got him caught. The feeling that washes over you doesn’t feel like victory, it feels more like defeat.

You sigh, “Craig. Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be. For both of our sakes, just be honest with me.”

His phone and briefcase have now been gently set on the island that separates the two of you and he lets out the secret he’s been keeping for longer than you expected.

“I umm.. I uh- I’ve been sleeping with Chelsea for a few months.”

A few months. That means three, right? You’ve only been engaged for four… Somehow you still hadn’t prepared yourself enough for what was unfolding in front of you. You thought maybe he had messed up, that he made a mistake one time. But no, he had been having a three month long affair with his fucking secretary. The secretary that congratulated you at your engagement party. The secretary that had gotten you beautiful engraved wine glasses as an engagement gift. On any other day you may have even considered Chelsea a friend.

“Were you going to tell me? Or were you just going to let me walk down the aisle next year, knowing that you were going to go back into work a married man and fuck your secretary?”

The words you spit out were laced with hatred. The layers of bullshit that you had built up convincing yourself that he loved you had been quickly torn away. No longer were you looking at your relationship with rose colored glasses. He hasn’t even said anything back. The coward had the balls to cheat on you for months after your engagement but couldn’t even look you in the eyes when he got caught.

“Why the hell would you even ask me to marry you if you were just going to go cheat on me?”

There is silence in your kitchen until he surrenders an answer to you, “It just felt like the right thing to do… We’ve been together so long and everyone was asking when we were going to get married… and then I thought my bosses would probably like it if I was engaged since no one really makes partner unless they’re married… and I knew you wanted to get married. And I love you I really do. And we can make this wor-“

He’s the one panicking now and you can’t even believe he’s trying to salvage this right now. The perfect guy you once knew was long gone. It’s clear to you that your impending marriage was only a strategic move to influence his career.

You can’t listen to his bullshit any longer, so instead you just turn and walk back to your bedroom. He starts to follow you, but you close and lock the door behind you. You lean back and slide to the floor. Finally letting your emotions get the best of you, you let out choked sobs.

Eventually he leaves you and you hear the door to your apartment close behind him. As you cry you lay on the floor of the bedroom you shared with the man you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with. You don’t know how long you cry, and you’re not sure when you fall asleep either.

When you wake up your clock tells you that you’ve been on the floor for almost two hours. Your body feels numb and all you want to do is stay sprawled out on the carpet, but you know that the battle isn’t over yet. After you text your boss to let her know you’re sick, you get yourself up and start packing. You grab suitcases from the hall closet and start grabbing your clothes.

You get as much as you can in your car and before you know it the apartment you once shared is only half full. You’re actually surprised you packed so quickly, and that it all fit in your car. You leave your key and your ring on the kitchen counter, and you know you don’t need to leave a note explaining anything. He already knows it’s over.

Before you walk out the door, something catches your eye. Two wine glasses. They’re sitting on the bar cart you had bought Craig for Christmas last year. You don’t even think, and before you know it you’ve taken them and tossed them into the kitchen sink. They shatter on impact.

You didn’t bother with taking stuff like the dishes or furniture the two of you had bought together. The things you took with you were only yours. Clothes and items you owned before the two of you lived together. You took things like the pictures from your graduation, your favorite blanket, and the puck Boone had given to you after your last game as a CBJ intern.

Boone. You hadn’t even spoken to him since your argument… You didn’t have anywhere to go now, and Boone did say he was always in your corner, so you start the ignition and turn your car in the direction of his apartment.

#boone jenner #boone jenner imagine #boone jenner fic #boone jenner fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #columbus blue jackets #always in your corner fic

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cadykeus-clay · 3 years

Note

Would you mind sharing your thoughts about vex and Beau being cross campaign foils?

so!!!! first things first: apologies for taking weeks to answer this, finals + having adhd sometimes makes my brain turn to mush and forget every ask ive ever recieved. second of all, i’m assuming you sent me this bc of what i said in my vm vs. m9 how they view the world meta. and i’ll be real with you. i have exactly 0 memory of what was going through my head when i wrote that line, so i am simply going to type out a bunch of thoughts that i have on the similarities and differences between beau and vex and i hope that lives up to what you were expecting jsdflksjdksld

I'll detail some specifics in a moment, but overall, I think beau and vex share a very similar kind of trauma of exclusion in their formative years, that's caused them to have a lot of similar traits that manifest in different ways - for vex, she maintains control through her material posessions and beau finds an emotional control in her asshole-ness. I've broken this down into 5 points on which I think comparing the two really emphasizes that claim:

1. daddy issues: both beau and vex have awful no good terrible very bad dads. both syldor and thoreau can suck my ass. they both raised their kids with little love and impossible-to-meet expectations, alientating them and leaving them with lifelong feelings of inferiority and unbelonging. If beau and vex were to meet, i think they would have a very friendly toast to shitty dads, and then have a good drunk vent about it an hour later.

but, at the same time, the actual minutae of their trauma and the ways it manifests are nearly polar opposites. syldor wanted nothing to do with vex, or else wanted her to somehow become a full elf. her issue was that she would never be able to belong, despite her desire to, and as she grew up it lead to her being overly protective and even possessive of the people she found who DID accept her as she was.

With beau, rather than exclusion, her father created an environment of toxic inclusion. He created a role for beau to belong in, disregarding her distate for actually fulfilling it. And, as such, she ended up making herself into someone who could have no expectations and pushed away anyone who tried to set them up for her. In the end, they both came to love themselves by abandoning the woman their father wanted them to be but for vex it was the laying down of an impossible dream and for beau it was the picking up of a mantle she had feared to wear.

2. brothers: now, on the topic of family, I also think its really interesting how their interactions with their brothers play out. We've got vex and vax, tied at the hip til the very end and then some; and then we've got beau and TJ - decades apart and with beau barely acknolwedging TJ's existence. But, even that distance between beau and TJ didn't stop her caring for him when they actually met. She gave him lucky Jade, and she entertained the idea of kidnapping him to get him away from her stinko dad.

And I'd espeically like to talk about what she said outside the hag's hut - "I think Luc and TJ could be best friends", in comparison to the way Vex reacted when Vax told her was going to Zephrah with Keyleth for the year break. There's an aspect to the way they interact with their brothers that lets them slip back into those bad habits they formed growing up (NOT that i'm claiming vex and vax were like toxic for each other. but even good relationships can have unhealthy moments).

With Beau, when she offers to give her happiness so TJ can grow up safe, she's trying to take on the role she's ""supposed"" to fill - the big sister, the protector - because she failed to fill the one her father set out. And with Vex, when she grows jealous of Vax, it's because she's afraid that his leaving with keyleth is a sign that she no longer belongs in his inner circle, and she falls back on that childish, desperate desire to do anything to be accepted unconditionally.

3. romance: spoilers for 5 or so most recent m9 eps (115-120) if you haven't watched them ahead!!!! at this point, both vex and beau have an endgame romance - percy and yasha respectively. Obviously as the m9's campaign is still playing out, that could change, but like. yasha wrote her a love letter and they're officially going on a date so i'm counting that as at least endgame-track rather than just random flirting. What's interesting to me is that they both seem to flip between the SAME roles between their (in-game) general perception and their actual pursual of romance.

Vex gets characterized as a pretty big flirt, right? She's got the winks, the casual "darling". She's flashed grog her boobs on multiple instances with little prompting. Beau, similarly, has easily the most game out of anyone in the m9. She's slept with two guest characters and at least one more npc in the events of the game. Caleb made her a fuck mirror in her room in the mansion. And yet, in both of their actual romantic endeavors, they became the shy, uncertain type.

Vex only confessed her feelings when Percy was laying dead before her, and not an hour of game play before percy kissed her in the woods, she had a talk with vax about how she was pretty sure he didn't like her that way and she didn't want to pursue it. Beau, similarly, spent a very long time convinced that yasha wasn't looking for love after zuala, especially not in anyone like her, asked everyone in the party if they thought yasha ACTUALLY liked her, just to be safe, and then still terrified to ask her out after recieving a literal love letter. I'd argue this shift comes from that same sense of unbelonging - they're very good at pretending they fit a role but doubt their actual right to take it when the opportunity is presented. This time, the role is the lover rather than the daughter.

4. authority: Both vex and beau grew up shunned by the upper crust of society, and grew to mistrust those kinds of people. And yet, both of their arcs result in them assuming such a position. Vex, thrown out of high society gets her place as a baronness, and Beau, running from leadership of her father's business ends up a top member of the Cobalt Soul. There's not a lot here, but I find it interesting how both of their stories involve them shedding their baggage regarding authority and power and assuming it in a way that they feel comfortable in - invitation by someone she trusts for vex, and a promise of freedom of will and control for beau.

5. their deadliest sins: this is the point at which their similarities culminate and transform to a fundamental difference. despite everything they share - shitty childhoods, the small piece of family that's still good, flirtiness masking shy love, and a mistrust of those in power - vex and beau are such different characters because of their biggest vices. Vex, both in game and out, is "the greedy one". She's stingy with money, she haggles for everything, she mourns the loss of physical objects. Beau is "the mean one". She cares little for people's feelings if they're not in her immediate circle, she focuses on her tough guy image, she laughs at things she knows she shouldn't.

And, over the course of the campaign, as they find unconditional acceptance, they grow away from these traits (I won't say they grow out of them) because they heal from the things causing these vices to begin with. I've always been vocal about vex's greed being a manifestation of her class insecurity, and beau's asshole-ness stemming from her fear of being forced back into another position of complacency. And I stand by that now - all the similarities in their backstories are what tally up to these different women.

Despite her careful tally of party funds and her reflexive bargaining, vex is not cruel. she is not angry on her own behalf. She saves two boys from the market in the city of brass at great personal cost, she relinquishes an entire dragon's hoard to the devastated city of Westruun, she took the time to save a baby bear from a cage when she could have just cut and run after escaping her own. She's the first one most people go to when they need a shoulder to cry on, and she's devastated when they don't (thinkin about when Scanlan left). She carved "forgiveness" into the bow she stole from a man after killing him by proclaiming how much she loved someone, because she knew anger had no place in her heart.

And Beau, Beau is a bitch and she's harsh, but she doesn't hoard or protect like vex did. she spends her money without much of a second thought. She pitches in to help her friends buy a ton of glowsticks, and she loves to indulge in material desires like drink and good food and the nicer inn room. She's a member of an organization that's about making knowledge public rather than guarding it. And, though this may be controversial, I think her position with bowlgate of "its not our problem what cali wants to do with it", her long-standing mistrust of their alliance with the bright queen and and more recently with the tomb takers of "i want to go in and talk, rather than assuming they're antagonistic, even if it puts us at a disadvantage" are both examples of this non-possessiveness too - she has no need or desire to get involved in controlling what other people are doing.

so, i guess the general conclusion here is: vex struggles to let go of things, of money, of people. beau struggles to let herself be known in case she gets wrongly interpreted again. they both fight feelings of inadequacy, they both fight the feelings of not belonging, of 'doing it wrong', they fight the perception of them as shitty people because of the shells they hide in despite their absolute hearts of gold. but at the end of the day, vex's story is one of having to lay down what could never be hers so she can carry what is, and beau's story is one of allowing herself to be known so a place can be made for her.

#hope this is what you and that other anon were looking for jdsflkdsajfsaldfsa #critical role #vexahlia #beauregard #long post

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the-evil-authoress · 3 years

Text

GX Month Day 6: “Heartfelt Appeal”

You find two characters that click so well, look them up...and there’s no content! ‘Why?? Someone please make content!’ The pleas go unheard. You’ll just have to make it yourself. Show some love for your rare pairs today!

MORE FANTASYSHIPPING! 8D

Year 2’s Duel Monster Spirit Day! Friendly reminder that ‘Mana’ is the name Dark Magician Girl gave when she introduced herself to Syrus last year.

Colorful banners and streamers hang from the entrance hall once more, market tents set up in the main yard with flashy signs and flags announcing their wares or food or other activities. Syrus stares at it all with the same wonder as last year, and peers through the throng of students hopefully. His other friends have already gone off to find the activities they like best, be it duels or carnival games or the kissing booth, so Syrus is free to wander at his leisure and search.

It’s stupid, it’s silly, and Syrus still wonders if last year was a fever dream regardless of the way Christina keeps teasing him and the ghost of arms he sometimes feels around his shoulders. But still, he hopes and maybe this year he can confirm it for sure.

“Syrus!” a voice calls out that tickles his memory and Syrus swings to face-

“Mana!” Heat floods his cheeks. Dear Ra, did she get prettier or is he just hopelessly, stupidly crushing? “You...you just disappeared last time,” he squeaks out the first thing that comes to mind that isn’t a jumbled mess of pretty hug magic like, and wants to kick himself when Mana’s expression falls.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she says, looking so sad it physically hurts. “I didn’t want it to end that way. I lost track of the time and I wasted too much of it showing off.” Her voice turns a bit bitter before she shrugs it off and smiles again. “But not this time. This time you have my full attention.”

“No, no!” Syrus frantically waves his hands in front of him. “I didn’t mean- I what?”

Mana giggles and leans down. “Just for today, you have me all to yourself!” Winking, she taps his nose and Syrus wheezes as his heart makes a valiant attempt at pounding straight out of his chest. Leaning back, Mana clasps her hands behind her back. “So what do you want to do?”

“Ah, well, um, we, we could, we could check out the carnival games,” Syrus finally stammers out a full sentence. Gods he hasn’t been this bad about it since the beginning of the year!

Mana only giggles again as she takes his hand and heads off toward the game booths. “Don’t go hiding in a trashcan on me now.”

Syrus’ brain freezes for a full second. “YOU SAW THAT?”

“I see everything Chinatsu sees! Well, almost.”

Who the hell is Chinatsu?!

It takes a solid 30 minutes and two botched carnival games to finally work himself out of that last anxiety attack, but finally his heartrate feels normal and he doesn’t want to die of mortification. If he dies he won’t get to see Mana smile or hear her squeal over the stuffed Happy Lover she won from the last game. Her throwing arm is ridiculously good. She’s also amazingly child-like for...however old she’s supposed to be.

“Ooo! I wanna try that! I wanna try that!” she squeals, pointing animatedly at the food stall with an assortment of pastries. “The bean fishies! Chinatsu loves these! I always wanted to try one!”

Syrus orders them a taiyaki each and ends up going back for seconds when Manna practically melts where she stands. “It’s so rich and sweet~!”

The next half hour ends up devoted purely to letting Mana sample all the food at the festival and discover her favorites. They compare tastes and Syrus offers recommendations. Mana ends up leaning more towards milder flavors of the sweet and savory variety; too much flavor and she’ll gag on it even if she likes the taste. Syrus prefers saltier foods with just a tiny extra kick. Mana’s reaction to hot spices had been concerning but strangely fun.

“Hey, um, if it’s not rude to ask...” Syrus starts as they sit on a bench nibbling on dango. Mana tilts her head to show she’s listening and Syrus ploughs ahead before he can talk himself out of it. “Are you really the Dark Magician Girl?”

Manna chews slowly before swallowing. “What do you think, silly?”

He thinks she is, and he’d call it crazy if not for, well, everything else crazy about the last two years of his life. After literally sentient murder crazy light, he might be ready to believe anything. But then- “Why me?”

“Because you wanted to get to know me,” Manna says without missing a beat. “You didn’t just see a pretty face or a powerful mage; you wanted to know the real me beneath all of that.”

“Oh...” Syrus remembers that conversation. Christina asked him why he had a card crush on the Dark Magician Girl. Did she ask because...

“And because I want to get to know you too,” Mana continues and Syrus sputters as his poor heart makes itself known again. “I’ve gotten to watch you a lot but that’s not the same as interacting. I want you to show me who you are. And I want to show you who I am.”

“Me? But I’m...I’m not...” His eyes fall to the ground as he thinks of that embarrassing episode of hiding in a trash can, of his brother who he couldn’t even stand up to in the end, of the Society of Light that he did absolutely nothing to help stop and even got himself kidnapped by a digital woman and her duel monster lackeys.

“Syrus.” A hand on his cheek brings him back to face Mana’s deep green eyes. “You can do anything and be anyone you want to be. I mean, just look at you already.” She plucks at the yellow blazer and Syrus’ chest fills with pride at the reminder. That’s right. He did do that. All on his own. “You look so good in yellow!” Mana cheers and Syrus’ ducks his face away again. He doesn’t know how to handle all these compliments! “Believe in yourself, and when that’s hard to do, believe me when I say I believe you can do anything.”

Those words might mean more to him than any other praise or pep talk he’s gotten before, simply because they sound so genuine. He’ll hold those words close to his heart for the rest of his life, because someone as strong and powerful as the freaking Dark Magician Girl believes in him. Swallowing, he nods and clears his throat to find his voice. “So, um, what do you wanna know?”

Smiling, Mana stands and pulls him straight back to the carnival games. Oh, so they’re not talking more? Syrus has to admit to being disappointed.

“Favorite color?” Mana asks as they try to catch tiny goldfish and distracts Syrus from the extra shiny one he almost caught.

“Actually...it’s orange,” he amidst sheepishly. “But I look horrid in it.”

“Aw, I think you’d look cute in orange! Like a little pumpkin.”

“A pumpkin?!”

“Oh? I’m sorry, was that an insult?” Mana asks with such genuine concern and confusion that Syrus can’t even be mad.

Shaking his head, Sryus flips the question around on her. “What about you?”

Mana stares at the water in the plastic pool. “It used to be purple...but I think I like grey a little better now.” She looks up and smiles and Syrus can’t help but feel like he’s missed something significant in that response.

“Favorite animal?” Mana asks once they’ve moved on to a ring toss game.

“Dogs,” Syrus says immediately, then feels self conscious about it. “I mean, they’re loyal and fluffy and I’ve always wanted one, they look fun to play with-”

Mana laughs. “Dogs are man’s best friend, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Mine are birds.” Mana looks up to the sky. “Because they can fly. I always wanted that freedom.”

“But you can fly too, can’t you?”

“In spirit form. But I can’t go too far from my card. Like this I can only float a bit.” With a snap of her fingers, her feet lift a couple centimeters off the ground in demonstration.

“That’s so cool.” Syrus stares in awe as Mana sets her feet back on the ground.

“The silliest thing you’ve ever done?”

A deep breath as a laundry list of his most mortifying experiences assault him. Breath out. He digs deeper for an older memory less tarnished by years of ridicule and insecurity. “I wore a sand bucket on my head and called myself a king.”

Mana laughs, loud and sudden, and Syrus takes pride in his four year old self for managing to entertain two people. He doubts he’d share that memory with anyone else; it’s one of the few he has of Zane smiling.

“I used to hide in giant vases then jump out and scare the crap out of my best friend,” Mana says with a wide grin, and Syrus snorts because he can picture it clearly. “Master always scolded me, but his reactions were too fun.”

Her master? Dark Magician then? Syrus wonders what kind of person would get to hang out with both of them. Probably another powerful spellcaster. “What is he like? Your master? Or...is he here today too?”

“Mahad? No, his situation is different from mine so it’s harder for him to cross the border,” Mana says, scanning the festival for their next game. “He’s pretty strict, and doesn’t know how to take a joke. But he’s kind and selfless.” Her voice grows soft and wistful, then she shakes herself and scratches her cheek. “Honestly, we’re kinda opposites, but that’s what makes it fun.”

She points to a shooting game booth before eagerly charging toward it; Syrus shows her how to use the toy gun and manages to beat her at this game. He still lets her pick out the prize, giggling when she picks out a lucky cat keychain.

“Dream career?” The key chain sways as it dangles from her finger.

Syrus fidgets. “It may seem kinda obvious, but I wanna be a pro duelist. A really famous one,” he mumbles, eyes turning to the ground.

“I bet you’ll be more famous that Yugi!” Mana cheers and Syrus quickly waves his hand in front of him.

“No! No, I doubt that!”

“Do you wanna have kids?” she asks while they fish for balloons with little hooks on strings.

Syrus chokes and drops his string straight into the water. “I mean, uh, maybe?? I guess I’d like- like to settle down and- and have a family- eventually...”

Mana smiles, but it looks a bit sad. “Yeah. I definitely want that too.”

“Best childhood memory?” Nimble fingers rifle through the Senbonbiki strings before giving one a tug.

Syrus answers without hesitation. “Zane teaching me how to duel.”

The string is a dud without a prize attached; Mana turns from pouting to look at Syrus with curious eyes. “Oh?”

“Yeah... we...” Syrus looks away, tries to keep the melancholy out of his voice. “We had a good relationship back then.”

Mana hums, reaching out to take his hand and wander back through the festival. “I think...mine is meeting Atem for the first time.”

Atem. That’s Christina’s ace card. Syrus shouldn’t be surprised he’s a duel spirit too. “Are all monster cards duel spirits?”

“Not every card has a spirit attached, but I have noticed almost every design mirrors a creature or person that actually exists.”

“Weird.” Honestly, Syrus never thought about it before, but it’s really weird that a game on Earth could accurately depict creatures from another dimension. Sure, Pegasus based the original cards off carvings he found in Egypt, but those were 3000 years old! Some of the new archetypes look distinctly futuristic, and Jaden designed the Neo Spacians so explain that! Just thinking about it gives Syrus a headache.

“Have you ever lost a fight?” he ventures to ask as they nibble on chocolate bananas.

“Lots of times,” Mana laughs at herself. “Especially during training. And no matter how good you are there’s always someone stronger, so tactical retreat is necessary!”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Syrus nods. The sky’s getting darker. Will Mana still be here for the fireworks? “What’s it like being a spirit?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. “It’s...lonely sometimes,” she admits, voice soft, almost forlorn. “Not many people can see us. We entertain ourselves by watching the world and taking bets on what kind of trouble Jaden will get into next.” Mana shrugs and smiles, an obvious attempt to make light of the situation, but Syrus can see straight through it.

“Oh,” he says, wishing he could put his emotions into words that wouldn’t hollow.

Mana glances out at the darkening sky, voice soft as she asks, “One thing you really wanna do before you die?”

“Huh?” The question startles Syrus as much as the oddly wistful tone. “I guess...” He hesitates. One thing? The thing he wants to do most? That he’d regret never doing? “I wanna be happy. With someone I mean!” he quickly amends and the word babble spills out from there. “I wanna get married and buy a house and share my life with someone. I know it probably doesn’t sounds that ambitious but-”

“No, that’s a great ambition.”

Syrus can’t really name the emotion on Mana’s face. Nodding, he looks down at his feet and fiddles with his hands. “Maybe...if we get to know each other better...you could be that person?” He squeezes his eyes shut, not daring to look up.

An intake of breath. “Syrus...”

The boom rattles through his bones and Syrus screams, flinging himself towards the nearest source of comfort and shelter, straight into Mana’s arms. Oh. Oh, the fireworks! Prying his eyes open reveals bursts of color lighting up the sky as another boom shakes the air. He laughs awkwardly and rights himself, murmuring an apology.

“I don’t have much time left,” Mana says, colored light illuminating her mournful expression, and the dread seizes Syrus by the throat.

“Ki-kiss me properly this time!” Oh gods his voice cracked and got really screechy, but he said it! His hands fist against his legs, trembling as her heart goes off on another marathon, and what if she rejects him? What if he read this all wrong? What if-

“Okay.”

Her kiss lingers on his lips long after the fireworks fade and she disappears back to being a spirit. He can still feel her hand against his own, and this time he knows it’s real.

#gxmonth2021 #fantasyshipping #syrus truesdale #marufuji shou #dark magician girl #ygo gx #yugioh gx #yu gi oh gx #long post

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terrence-silver · 3 years

Note

Thanks so much for your sweet tags on my story! I love all the content you provide us and I can't help myself but request more Terry from you. How about. . .Terry trying to seduce Reader, but Reader is oblivious and thinks they're just best friends.

@atmostories thank you so much, this one is for you 🖤

---

This never happened before.

And he’s had his conquests. Yes. He once spent several years after he returned from Vietnam and got his Business and Masters Degree just travelling Europe and fucking around. Quite literally speaking. He had the looks to pull it off. He had the charm. He had the means and the money. Also, it was the 70′s and he needed to blow some steam off and make up for all the years lost in the war and after his parents died. But, what he never had before is someone being daft enough not to realize that when a man arranges to see you in his own private steam room sauna (which you didn’t even realize he owned, naturally - hiding the truth in plain sight) with nothing but a towel on and a bottle of champagne and two glasses that it’s supposed to mean something. How does one not understand the implications? Were you playing hard to get? Did you enjoy people working a bit more then usual for you due to some sort of abandonment issues? Was he simply losing his touch? Was this some sort of mind game? Were you somehow manipulating him for covert reasons he couldn’t quite read yet? No. No, you weren’t. Terry Silver could spot a shady, two-faced individual when he saw one (he’d know, from personal experience) and you weren’t one.

You were just - you.

Happy and friendly and cheerful and just normal. He wouldn’t call you insecure. Wouldn’t call you terribly secure either. Were you one of those people who didn’t believe they were loveable to anyone? Did you just subconsciously reject all offered affection because you didn’t believe you were deserving of it? Were you afraid? Did you have a traumatic childhood? Were you abused by someone before and who’s neck did he have to snap? Was he psychoanalyzing you too much? Terry Silver was just horrendously annoyed with you for the longest time now. It’s like you were a shut book he couldn’t read. So open, yet so unavailable. And he’s tried practically everything under the sun. He’s called you beautiful. He complemented you. Occasionally brushed against you. Smiled at you. Acted beyond polite. Beyond sweet. Was always there for you, close by, for whatever and whenever. Once or twice went as far as attempting to invoke your lust first if he couldn’t your affection and just straight-up untying the upper part of his gi and pretending to stretch out after a long training session, hoping to impress you with his physique and the sweat lining his muscles. He worked hard to look like this.

You politely looked away and excused yourself out.

Giving him privacy.

Privacy!?

-”Be careful, don’t catch a cold like that. Could be dangerous.”-

You jovially mentioned with care on your way out of the dojo training hall leaving him to stand there with a naked torso, waving him an idle goodbye, not looking back as not to make him uncomfortable by peeking - no irony, no sarcasm, nothing suggestive, no meanspirited joking in your tone of voice - just genuinely good-natured concern for his health, well-being and the utmost respect for his bodily autonomy. Honestly - fuck you. First of all, you were in LA and it was the asphalt was searing mid-summer, how the heck is he gonna catch a cold? Second of all, not even John treated him with this much detached friendliness and that was actually his friend. Even John was more touchy-feely, close and warm with him just by nature of being. This was ridiculous. In fact, it was outrageous. What was he even supposed to do next? Show up in your bedroom, just lay down and wait for you to arrive? Knowing you, you’d no doubt be absolutely okay with him chastely sleeping over and you’d probably borrow him your pillow and tuck him in too and just go to rest in the other room with not a care in the world.

How could a person like that even exist?

Did you have eyes?

Maybe he just wasn’t your type. But then again, highly improbable, Terry Silver was nearly everyone’s type and if he wasn’t, he’d make himself be their type. He’d get under their skin and make them believe he was their type even if they didn’t believe themselves initially. Oh, the idea though - the idea of not being your type. Why did it fill him with so much - well - resentment? Anger, almost? Loathing? Why was there a pit deep in his belly swallowing all his pity, patience and understanding for you like an ever-expanding crater of darkness? Why did he want to take whatever kind of person you were into a just rip them to shreds until nothing worthy admiration and attraction remained? Just degrade them, hurt them and destroy them until there was nothing to love anymore? He’s been at this game for over a year now. Over a year. In his kind of life, a year was an eternity. Two was just flat-out embarrassing. Stock-markets crash, companies go bankrupt and he makes his next million. He never spent a year trying to get anyone to like him for amorous purposes. And this beating around the bush would end today.

After much self-reflection and pondering.

Consultations from everyone starting from Margaret.

Milos, Snake, Dennis and even Mike Barnes, horribly enough.

Terry decided to pull out the big L.

Because really, who could resist a confession of love, strictly strategically speaking? It was a move worthy of the Art of War. Even when not mutual (and he’d make sure it would be by any means necessary) if anything, the other person would be flattered. Put off guard. Confused. Amused at best. Literally anything but the putrid, disgusting, disturbing sense of flat-line familial kinship you’ve endued him with against his will. He wasn’t your dad. He wasn’t your brother. He wasn’t your cousin. He wasn’t your friend. Your acquittance. Don’t you realize what he wanted to do with you? He wanted to possess you whole and make you scream on every surface in every chamber of his 100 room house and keep repeating that forever and ever and ever until you live through nothing but him. How dare you? The thought of not winning. The thought of just being rejected by your obliviousness. It brought him so close to the edge of breaking out of the weak, saccharine, nonsensical, subdued character he constructed for himself. It brought him so painfully close. Just shedding his facade and taking what he wanted in the crudest, foulest way possible - it would be so easy. So easy. At this point he was insulted.

But he held back for your sake.

He didn’t even understand why he’d care to.

Why he’d care not to frighten, repulse or push you away.

Usually, that would be his most preferred part of the game.

Not now, though.

Why?

Why he’d even begin to care to read all the possible moods etched into your face, bother with the levels of your comfort and discomfort to make the setup perfect, natural, soft and intimate and just say the words as gently and with as emotion as humanly possible without trying to come off too strongly? Which is exactly what he did. Upon which your reaction was to merely smile blissfully (disappointing) just tap him on the shoulder (even more disappointing), give it a fond little squeeze like you would your favourite coworker during lunchbreak (unimaginably disappointing) and just respond with a casual and off-puttingly, wretchedly non-chalant;

-”Yeah, sure, I love you too.”-

Yeah, sure!?

Sure!?

You kept eating the ice cream he’s bought you.

Unphased, unbothered, unaware and dumb as a rock.

Terry Silver was just stunned for the rest of the evening.

In ways he doesn’t quite recall being in, well - ever.

Did you just confess to loving him as a friend?

To his face?

And he let you survive that?

Alright then. It was decided there and then. He wanted to strangle you. Yes. But he’d leave that for another time. For now, he’d say goodbye to you in good humor and cheer like he always did and leave this unfortunate, hideous fiasco of a night behind him even though you (of course) appeared to be legitimately enjoying yourself. The next time you meet him, he’ll be himself. His actual self. None of this sugary, flowery, tame tip-toeing around the substance of things. No more sparing you. No more patience. No more waiting. No more going soft on you. No more trying to tenderly, slowly ease you into things. No. If ordinary, commonplace, humble Terry was someone you considered a mere friend - a best friend, to make things doubly offensive - the actual, real Terry wasn’t going to accept that. The actual, real Terry took whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. The actual, real Terry wasn’t lenient, merciful or even remotely open to rejection. And this was all your fault. All of it. You could have had the nice, kind, darling, innocent, angelic Terry who takes you out on cute little walks, asks permission to hold your hand gingerly and buys you ice cream and smiles charmingly at you with the widest, fullest grin he could possibly manage. You wanted the other guy instead, didn’t you? You pushed his hand. Forced it even.

He went to his actual home that night despite the risk of it.

The hills overlooking the shimmering skyline of the city.

You knew this place, without realizing you knew it.

He burned all his pretend-clothes -

On the embers of a lit cigar.

And seething with cold rage --

He decided to re-introduce himself to you.

They say honesty was the best policy, after all.

#terry silver #karate kid 3 #cobra kai #yandere #request #writing an angry terry is the most amusing thing of all times #he just keeps getting progressively more and more pissed off

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lia-jones · 3 years

Text

Growing Together - Chapter Twenty - The Green Eyed Monster

It was early dawn when we left the apartment, the cold breeze enough to jolt me awake from my remaining morning sleepiness. Loveland was still asleep, as it would be on a very early Saturday morning, and the only thing we could hear was the sound of our footsteps on the gravel… and my moaned complaints. I’m really not a morning person, and making me leave the warmth of my bed to face the frosty 6 am air without even letting me have my coffee first was pure torture. Needless to say, I was beyond moody.

It had been almost a month since Owen’s grandmother’s first and last contact with us, which meant that probably she took my words to heart and decided to leave us alone. Victor announced a week later that Daniel had been sentenced to 15 years of prison, and was waiting to be charged for other crimes, which meant he would probably never leave prison. All of the things that were taunting us were slowly but surely slipping away, and now we dared to take a deep breath of relief. Which led us to why we were getting up so early in the first place.

We were aware that things would become hectic pretty soon. LFG France was almost ready to make its official debut, which meant that Victor would have to make a long business trip to France in order to tie up the last loose ends, and we would be seeing much less of him in the upcoming weeks. With that in mind, my husband decided to treat the family with a comfort meal, and take the three of us on a small field trip: we were going to Loveland’s Farmer’s Market to get the best ingredients. Early. When it was freezing outside. This meal had better be worth it.

“Are you cold?” Victor wrapped his arm around me as we walked towards the market. “I told you to put on more clothes. It’s chilly early in the morning.”

I grunted in protest, but still leaned my nose on his chest, looking for warmth.

“I see what this is all about.” He let out a chuckle. “Don’t worry, you’ll have your coffee soon enough.”

“I want a hot chocolate!” Owen chimed in, excited. “Do you think I can ask for marshmallows?”

“How are you so perky?” I squinted at my son, offended that he could be so alert while I was still trying to stave off sleep.

“Dad says that all the great chefs go at this hour, and they personally pick the ingredients.” Owen jumped as he explained. “Can you imagine meeting one of those top chefs that we see on TV?”

I grunted again, burying myself in Victor as much as I could. The only chef I wanted to meet was Pillow Boyardee, back in my bed, where it was still warm. But that was so far away that it felt like I had left it in another dimension.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Victor nudged me playfully, making me look at him. “We’re here. Do you want something else with your coffee?”

The scent of freshly ground beans hit my nostrils, awakening from my stupor. The Promised Land! Finally, I had arrived at a place where I could be happy: the coffee shop. Victor laughed again, as I promptly gave up his warm embrace for the promise of caffeine.

“Two coffees, one hot chocolate with marshmallows and three cinnamon rolls, please.” He asked the cashier, a perky brunette in her early twenties.

“Can I have the names to identify the beverages, please?” The cashier smiled widely at him.

“Coffee for Andrea and Victor, and hot chocolate for Owen.”

“Andrea, Owen and Victor…” The girl rolled her tongue weirdly as she pronounced Victor’s name. “You can have a seat anywhere, I’ll meet you there. After all, you are very hard to miss.” She gave him a sultry smile.

I blinked in confusion as Victor took mine and Owen’s hands, leading us to a table nearby.

“Is it just me or was that girl a little bit too friendly?” I asked as Victor pulled a chair for me to sit.

“What girl? The cashier?” He gave me a confused frown.

“You didn’t notice? I could swear she wa-”

“Here’s your coffee.” The cashier came with our order. “Strong and hot, just like you.” She winked at Victor.

I was so appalled I couldn’t even react. How dare she hit on my husband right in front of me?

“Careful, she said it’s hot.” Victor slid my coffee cup towards me, seemingly ignorant of what just happened.

“Ok, there is no way you didn’t see that.” I glared at him, only to have my glare returned with a confused look.

“See what?”

“Strong and hot, just like you.” I repeated her words with a nasal voice. “She was flirting!”

“You probably heard it wrong. I’m sure she didn’t say that.”

I felt my blood boil.

“So I’m hearing thin-”

“And even if she did, it would be useless. I’m happily married.” He said matter-of-factly. “Drink your coffee, you’ll feel better.”

The table fell silent. Victor was minding his phone while Owen was focused on blowing on his hot chocolate, poking the marshmallows with his little finger so they would melt a bit more. And I was steaming just as much as my coffee, but I kept quiet, not wanting to make a scene.

“What are we buying, Dad?” Owen broke the silence.

“I am glad you asked, my loyal esquire. This quest will not be an easy one.” Victor answered in all seriousness. “It is essential that today we make a meal fit for royalty, since our Queen is discontent.”

He was teasing me to make me laugh, and the sad part was, it was working. I took a sip of my coffee to hide my grin, but obviously he caught it and kept on playing, his tone even more exaggeratedly ceremonious than before.

“We start our perilous adventure fighting the most ruthless of adversaries: the butcher. We must obtain from his bloody hands the most precious cut of meat, the tenderloin.”

“We will go into the woods, holding our mighty swords, looking for the beast to hunt it down.” Owen continued, amused with the story.

“Or, in your father’s case, he’ll go into the market holding his mighty wallet.” I chimed in with a dry tone, although I was melting with how playful these two could be.

“The tool is irrelevant.” Victor smiled at me, sipping his drink. “All that matters is that I win the Queen’s heart.”

And just like that, Victor was making me giggle like a schoolgirl. He was good, I had to give him that.

“Why is there a number written under your cup?” Owen interrupted, frowning at the bottom of Victor’s cup.

“She wrote her number under your cup?” I looked at the paper cup like it was cursed.

“It's nothing.” He lifted his cup at an odd angle, so I wouldn’t see the bottom, drinking his coffee in one go. “Let's go. The market will get busy soon.” He declared as he crumpled the cup and promptly threw it away.

Somehow I managed to let myself be led out of that coffee shop without making a scene, but the truth was I was barely holding myself. Jealousy was churning inside me, and I wanted nothing more than to unleash all my anger. That girl had some nerve, hitting on a married man in front of his wife.

“You are surprisingly quiet.” Victor noticed. “Is this because of that woman?”

“No.” I pouted as I lied. Of course, he wouldn’t buy it.

“Why are you making such a fuss over this? I clearly have no intention to pursue any other romantic endeavors. You are too much trouble already.” He tickled my ribs, trying to get a smile out of me. He got an annoyed scoff instead.

“This doesn’t become you, you know.” He continued. “Jealousy is for insecure people with unfulfilling relationships.”

“I'm not jealous. I’m just annoyed that she flirted with you in front of me. What happened to sisters before misters?”

“I admit it was crass, but since when do you even pay attention to those things?"

“I don't.” I threw, wanting to close the topic. “It’s over, let’s move on.”

I could feel his eyes studying me and all my movements. When I turned to scold him, he was smiling mischievously.

“Well, I suppose you do have reasons to be cautious about other women.” He gave me a smug smile. “I am quite the catch.”

“Self-confident, are we?” I gave him a warning look.

“Rightfully so. You fell for my charms, didn’t you?”

“Ugh.” I walked faster, hoping he would just drop the subject. It was obvious he wouldn't.

“Admit it, I’m irresistible. You tell me yourself every day, I’m handsome, I have a promising career, I can cook…”

“You can be ridiculously annoying sometimes.” I added. “Like now.”

“They called me Loveland’s Most Eligible Bachelor, after all.” He continued, amused. “You can’t blame me for having all these women falling at my feet. Because, in all seriousness, who wouldn’t fall for this?” He pointed at himself like he was presenting an appliance in a game show.

“You're such an idiot." I shook my head.

“You're such a moron." He quipped.

It was true that there would always be some floozie flirting with Victor, he was indeed a remarkable man. But it was also true that, probably due to some lucky star, he only had eyes for me, and he showed me that every single day. Why was I letting such petty things get to me? The green-eyed monster was definitely not a good advisor, and I wasn’t going to let him ruin my day. Especially when I felt my husband’s hand hold mine, his fingers entwined with my own.

We finally stopped at the butcher’s door, Owen looking at it in amazement. He probably was expecting a violent man chopping off some animal’s head inside, and not the scrawny guy with a high-pitched voice that Victor called Clarence. Nonetheless, Victor looked at Owen with wide scared eyes.

“Do not look straight at him.” He warned, and I couldn’t help but laugh at Owen’s excited gasp. “His eyes feed on the souls of fools.”

“I am no fool!” Owen declared. “I will go prepared!”

Of course, he had nothing to prepare for, the butcher shop was as normal as any other, with burgers and meatballs on display, along with some other cuts of meat.

“Mr. Lee!” We heard Clarence’s high-pitched voice, very unlike someone who can eat your soul with his eyes. “Came to take your order?”

Victor was distracted for a few moments, staring at the door.

“Yes, my wife will take it for me. Here.” He quickly put some money on the counter, turning to me afterward. “Wait for me outside, me and Owen will be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“On another perilous mission.” He gave me a smug smile. “Don’t worry, Owen will swat away all the women that throw themselves at me. I will be safe.”

“Not as safe as you think.” I frowned.

I turned to face the counter again, part of me happy for seeing him in such a good mood, the other part a bit concerned that now that he knew I was jealous, he would be teasing me all day. I caught one of the workers watching our interaction, a large bag in her hands.

“Here’s your order.” She smiled. “May I interest you in anything else?”

“No need, thank you.” I smiled. “To be honest, I have no idea what he’s cooking.”

“Mr. Lee is cooking?” She sighed. “You are lucky. A good-looking husband that can cook? Most of us can only hope.”

I felt the green-eyed monster poking my shoulder.

“Don’t get too excited, he doesn’t cook that well.” I lied through my teeth. What was with Victor and women today? Jesus.

As agreed, I waited by the butcher’s door, holding a bag full of meat, wondering where the hell could the two men of my life be. I felt a hand on my shoulder and immediately turned around, expecting to see my husband’s smug smile again. I had a whole different thing coming.

“Andy?”

“Levi!” I threw myself into his arms for a big hug. “I haven’t seen you in ages, how are you?”

“Last time I saw you was when Victor had that accident. I never heard from you since.” His voice had a tinge of hurt. “I knew you moved from the guys that were taking your stuff from your apartment.”

“Oh God, yes.” I grimaced. “A lot has happened since.”

“Oh, I know. I saw your wedding on TV. You looked beautiful, by the way.” He gave me a sweet look. “And congratulations on your award. And for the new job position.”

“Thank you, like I said, I have been pretty busy.” I smiled, feeling awful. I had been a terrible friend. Levi was a very close friend before I met Victor, my greatest support when I was alone and had no one to help me, and I didn’t even invite him to my wedding. Even worse, I couldn’t find the time to make a call. All he knew from me, he had to learn from the media. “I’m sorry, I am a bad friend.”

“It’s alright, it’s never too late to catch… Oh, hi, Victor, how are you?”

Victor was standing right behind me, his earlier playfulness gone, a grim expression instead, eyeing Levi like he was one of the monsters he and Owen were supposed to be slaying. Levi extended his hand for Victor to shake. Victor shamelessly ignored it.

“Mom! Mom!” Owen pulled my arm, excited. “We got something for you!”

I looked back at Victor’s hands and spotted the bouquet of roses he was holding.

“You’re a mom?” Levi asked, seemingly incredulous.

“Oh yes, I am sorry.” I took my son’s hand. “Levi, this is Owen, my son. Owen, this is Levi, my friend. He used to teach me Krav Maga. It’s a martial art.”

“You taught my mother how to fight?” Owen’s interest in Levi peeked instantly. “Will you teach me too?”

“I sure will.” Levi nodded. “Ask your mom to bring you to the studio one of these days, we have a kids’ class you can attend.” He turned to me with a smile. “And maybe she will let me buy her some coffee, see if we can catch up on lost time.”

“I can’t really promise you that for now, I have been super busy with work. But text me the time, maybe I’ll ask our nanny to drive Owen.” I looked at my beautiful boy. “Would you like that?”

“Yes, yes, I would love it! I want to be strong like Levi!” Owen turned to Victor. “Can I, Dad? Can I?”

“We’ll discuss it later.” Victor answered dryly. “Shall we?” He took my hand.

“Yes, we need to go. So nice to see you, Levi.” I let go of my husband’s hand to give Levi another tight hug.

“Don’t be a stranger, will you?” He ruffled my curls. “And no excuses, I want your sweet tushie in my studio for proper training!”

I had no time for Krav Maga, but the truth was, I did miss it. I had been so stressed the last few weeks, I definitely could use blowing off some steam. Owen definitely seemed excited about it.

“Mom, do you think he will teach me how to kick, like this?” He lifted his little leg haphazardly, kicking the air. “I bet he is super strong! I bet he can lift forty pounds!”

“Who cares if he can lift forty pounds?” Victor muttered. “Elephants can lift a lot more, they don’t waste their time bragging about it.”

“He didn’t brag about it, Owen was the one who mentioned it.” I pointed at the flowers in his hand. “Are those for me?”

“No.” Victor almost pouted, pulling the flowers to himself. “And you don’t need to defend Leonard. If he is so incredibly strong, he can defend himself.”

“Ok, number one, I wasn’t defending him, I was merely pointing out an inaccuracy.” I spoke gently, trying not to aggravate my already very aggravated husband.

“You’re an inaccuracy.” He childishly muttered, but I wouldn’t be deterred.

“Number two!” I called his attention again, holding up two fingers. “His name is Levi and you know it.”

“I do not have the time nor the interest to memorize Larry’s name.” He scoffed.

“Did you know that the elephant communicates with others by purring as cats do?” Owen chimed in, completely oblivious to the subject at hand. “And that they are the only mammal that can’t jump?”

“That does sound like Lenny.” Victor quipped. “Quick to purr, but slow on the jump. ”

I looked at my husband, reading his expression and posture as he stopped by one of the many colorful stalls to pick some vegetables. His eyes were focused on whatever produce he was handling, but his jaw told me he was churning over something else. He was jealous.

I observed him for a while longer, wondering if I should take this moment to my advantage and tease him as he teased me. The answer was pretty simple.

“Come on, Victor, are you jealous of Levi?” I joked. “You said it yourself, jealousy is for insecure people with unfulfilling relationships.”

“I am not jealous, why would I be jealous?” He frowned. “Because Lemur was flirting with you, despite the wedding ring you have on your finger? Maybe I’ll have to buy you a bigger diamond, or a traffic cone. Do you think he will see that?”

“Why would Mom wear a traffic cone?” Owen giggled, again completely unaware of our argument. “That’s ridiculous.”

Victor scoffed as he took the bags full of groceries from the vendor, and I prepared to deliver a final blow.

“Ok, I will let you have this one.” I threw my hands up in defeat. “You are right.”

“You don’t need to tell me, I know I am.”

“It’s just like you said earlier.” I gave him a cocky grin. “I can’t help being this irresistible.”

He paused to look at me, right before unlocking our car.

“So, that’s how you are going to play this.”

“Well, it’s not like I can turn it off.” I continued. “Of course I will have men throwing themselves at me.”

“Fine.” He declared before getting in the vehicle.

“I mean, I did get Loveland’s Most Eligible Bachelor to marry me, that has to count for something.” I stuck my tongue out to him.

“Can I drive us home in peace or do you want to cause an accident?” He glared at me before starting the car.

“Can you acknowledge your jealousy is just as ridiculous as mine?” I glared back.

“Shut up.” He pressed the Start button.

Victor seemed to be incredibly tense the whole ride, so I decided to leave things as they were. It was pointless to discuss things that would never happen anyway, we were both loyal, I knew that. And talking only seemed to make things worse, so the best thing to do was to hope that cooking would distract him, and eventually the green eyed monster would leave him as well.

Sadly, that was not the case. After I helped him put all the food away, I found him flattening the steaks with a hammer, his blows so hard he almost punched a hole in one of them.

“Victor, you’re hurting the food.”

“Do you think Lawrence would do a better job?”

Even though I knew it would only upset him more, I had to laugh. Victor’s commitment to not mentioning Levi’s name was truly commendable.

“Why are you laughing? Is my distress amusing to you?”

“I have to admit it is a bit amusing.” I came closer, running my hands through his chest. “Come on, let’s end this.”

“There is nothing to end.” He stiffened.

“You know, I’m an idiot.”

“I agree.”

“So are you!” I playfully smacked him on the chest. “We love each other. Why waste time with this?” I wrapped my arms around his neck, prompting him to come down for a kiss. Victor, however, stood tall, unwilling to give in.

“Come on, let me make it better.” I purred.

“I need to get lunch ready.”

I wasted no time. I grabbed his shoulders and basically jumped up, knowing he would catch me so I wouldn’t hurt myself. I wasn’t wrong. His arms wrapped around my waist out of instinct.

“Are you trying to get yourself hurt?” He scolded.

I kissed him, my tongue grazing his lips. He hardly resisted, deepening the kiss as he placed me on top of the kitchen island, so his hands would be free to roam my body.

“Now, doesn’t it feel better?”

“Not really. I burned my tongue drinking my coffee so fast.” He was still trying to appear upset, but his tone told me otherwise.

“So I wouldn’t see what she wrote?”

“So you wouldn’t get upset. I don’t want you to ever feel insecure about other women. There is no need for that.” He gave me an earnest look.

“Same goes for other men. I’m yours.”

“I guess we both are idiots.” Victor reached behind my back, presenting me with the bouquet he bought.

“Aw, Mr. Lee, those are for me?” I smelled the beautiful red buttons.

“They were always meant for you, and you know it.” He complained as he slowly pecked the tip of my nose, moving to my mouth, and then my neck, making me shiver with pleasure.

The sound of our doorbell echoed through the apartment.

“Are you expecting anyone?” I gave him a curious look.

Without a word, Victor walked to the hall. I followed him.

“Mr. Victor Lee and Mrs. Andrea Lee?” I heard a man ask.

“Yes?”

“You have been served.” The man handed Victor two envelopes, turning to leave.

Victor closed the door with a stern look and went to the study to find a letter opener. I found him wide-eyed, reading the contents of the envelopes.

“Pamela is suing for Owen’s custody.”

“What?” I took one of the letters from Victor’s hands to read. “She said she wouldn’t interfere in the adoption.”

“And you believed her? It’s irrelevant, either way. She won’t get him.” Victor declared, narrowing his eyes at the piece of paper. “He’s our son.”

Sometimes, jealousy -- or in Pamela’s case, greed -- gets the best of us. It tells us that we don’t deserve something, and urges us to do the craziest things to secure them. Crazy like throwing an irrational fit, or like removing a child from a safe loving place. Either way, at the end of the day, we all fall prey to the green-eyed monster.

#mlqc fanfic #mldd victor #mlqc victor #love and producer #mister love queens choice #mister love dream date #Growing Pains - Series #growingtogether #victor x oc #jealousvictor!#mlqc li zeyan

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your-kpopmama · 3 years

Text

Last Christmas

A/N: heyooooooooo so I haven’t written something in god knows how long but uh, here’s a fun story from the I Like You A Latte universe. It’s kind of alternate universe where Yoongi and Y/N never worked together and this is their little beginning story. So anyway, here is a Christmas gift from me to you..

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Word Count: 4,330 Genre: fluffy with smut. its like half smut. there wasn’t supposed to be any but it happened and I’m sorry. READ I LIKE YOU A LATTE HERE

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The atmosphere of the coffee shop was always welcoming and warm. You didn’t get to come out often and enjoy yourself, but when you did, this was your go to spot. God knows how long it’s been since you actually stopped in though. In lieu of coming here, you had taken to tar like coffee from gas stations on the way home or Jimin’s overly sweet coffee he made every morning. You missed this place. Something about the dim lighting and freshly baked goods always on display with the warm scent of coffee beans permeating the air, seemed to calm you down. Not to mention the staff had always been energetic and could put a smile on your face no matter what kind of sour mood you came in with.

Today was no exception, you had a large marketing meeting on the game you and Jungkook had developed over the last year and a half. Blood, sweat, and tears were poured into this project and you finally were ready to send your baby out into the world. It wouldn’t have been so nerve wracking if your last game hadn’t been a flop. Granted it was a gift for your team, and was never meant to be seen by other players, but Taehyung had insisted that it be put up as an indie title. It sunk nearly to the bottom of the “free to play” due to it’s low scores, and it damaged your self esteem a bit. Looking back you can definitely see why it got the ratings it did, but your team loved it and that’s all that mattered to you.

Reaching down into your bag, you pulled out your laptop and turned it on. While you waited for it to load, you went back to the counter to order a latte. The overly friendly red head who worked there all but bounced to the counter to take your order.

“Hey, don’t I know you?” He asked, leaning slightly in to peer at your face.

“Uh, maybe?” You said cautiously.

A hand flew from nowhere and slapped the red head on the arm, “Hoseok, please do not lean over my perfectly clean counters. And refrain from getting into the young lady’s face.” a tall man with black shaggy hair poked his head around the dessert case. His large brown eyes were narrowed in Hoseok’s direction. It would have been intimidating, but the fact that he had flour plastered on his right cheek, took away the effect he was hoping to have.

“Sorry, Jin.” Hoseok said sheepishly.

“And you do know her.” Jin added before ducking back behind the desserts to arrange them more neatly.

“He does?”

“I do?”

You and Hoseok questioned at the same time, wearing the same confused faces. “Mm. She used to be a regular.” He said distractedly before smiling in triumph at his work. “It’s been what, a year since you’ve been in?” He asked with a polite smile.

You bit your bottom lip in thought, has it been that long since you’ve been here? You honestly couldn’t remember. How long have you holed yourself up in your shared apartment? Nodding slightly to confirm his question, you looked a bit embarrassed for not even remembering. “I’d have to agree. It has been a while since I’ve been here.”

“Glad to have a customer back, then. I hope it wasn’t our coffee or desserts that drove you away.” Jin beamed and leaned his elbow on top of the case full of sweets.

Your hand flew the back of your neck in embarrassment, “ah, not at all!” You spit out, “actually I just got really busy and didn’t have much time to enjoy myself.” You explained, wondering why you were even explaining.

“Mm, that’s right. I remember you used to come in here and study. Are you still in school?” Jin questioned further, your eyes catching Hoseok step away from the counter to busy himself with your order.

“No, I graduated a year ago. I’ve been working on a project for the company I work for,” you smiled in appreciation to Hoseok as he slid your drink across the counter, “I am a game developer.”

Jin’s eyebrows shot up and he had an impressed look on his face, “that’s pretty cool. Will it be anything big we may hear of?”

You blushed at the thought of one of your games actually making it big, “I don’t know yet. I have to pitch the game first before our developer decides what kind of marketing it will get.”

“Well, whenever your meeting is, I’ll be rooting for you!” Jin smiled so his eyes turned into little crescents and you felt a wave of warmth flush through you. Typically when you told people what you did, it usually ended up with them scoffing or laughing in your face. Hardly any support came from your family, and your housemates were the only ones who really had your back through it all. However, the kind words of an almost stranger, welled you with confidence you needed.

Picking up your mug, you uttered a quick thank you before Jin turned to leave. Before you could turn away though, a figure stepping out of the back caught your attention. Blonde hair that was pushed under a black cap, with a handsome but almost pretty face looked back at you. Long, thin fingers stopped in their quest to tie a black apron around a thin waist. You felt the smile drop from your face as images began to flash in your mind.

Hands on your abdomen, mapping out every curve and swell of your body. Lips, hungry for more as they devoured your own. Hot breath brushing across your breasts.

Snapping out of your daydream you quickly turned to escape, hoping to God, that wasn’t who you thought it was. Even after a year, you could still remember that face clearly. Those eyes that stared into your soul, but were kind and loving.

“Shit..” you muttered. You didn’t dare to glance back just to double check. Instead you made it your one and only goal to get back to your seat and get to work on fine tuning your presentation. After all, it was what you came here for. You needed the peace and quiet, and you’d be damned if you risked it.

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Saving your work, you breathed a sigh of relief as your arms stretched above your head, popping your stiff joints. It was finally done. Officially. Your project proposal was turned in and you fine tuned everything until nothing more could be done. You felt accomplished and proud.

Tapping quickly on your phone screen, you see three and a half hours had passed by. “Shit!” You exclaimed, quickly shutting your laptop down and stuffing everything into your bag. You pulled on your coat and slung your bag over your shoulder before picking up your empty mug and returning it to the counter.

“Oh, wait!” Someone exclaimed from behind you. You glanced over your shoulder to see the black haired man rushing towards you with a paper bag in his hand. “This is for you, dear.” He handed you the decorative bag with a smile.

“Thanks! How much do I owe?” You looked down and began rummaging in your bag for some cash.

“It’s on the house.” Jin replied with a sly smile.

“Oh..well thank you.” you returned his smile but an uneasy feeling sat in the put of your stomach.

“Don’t thank me,” he winked, “but you seem to be in a hurry so you best be on your way.” He shooed you with his hands as you suddenly remembered you did have somewhere to be an hour ago. You spun on your heel with a quick goodbye and headed out the glass doors into the cool night air.

After two bus transfers you were finally back at the apartment. Flipping the keypad open, you could already hear the angry yelling from inside and you braced yourself before pushing open the door.

"I'm home!" you shouted from the entry way, making a beeline straight for your room before your three roommates could stop what they were doing and make their way to you. You were almost safe until a foot in the doorway stopped you from closing the bedroom door all the way.

"A little late, huh, Y/N?" Taehyung's voice called sweetly from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder revealed him to be standing there with a smirk plastered on his face as his arms crossed over his chest.

"A little." you said meekly.

"That's dinner on the house. We ordered a lot of food, so you can take care of the bill when it gets here." he said, still with the smirk ever present on his gorgeous face.

"Of course, of course. Can I close my door now? I want to get changed and logged in so we can raid." you tried to usher him from your doorway but he pushed himself inside.

"I wanted to stay though," he pouted while flopping across your messy bed.

You sighed and walked over to him and grabbed him by the wrist and pulled on him, gesturing for him to leave, "You know you can't. Get out."

"I'm gay, it's totally okay." he tried to reason.

"It's not though, get out." you tried to pull on him again but he was as stubborn as ever. "Hey," you had an idea, "I have a pastry in that bag over there and it's all yours if you get the hell out of my room."

That perked him right up, and in one swift motion he was off your bed and grabbing the bag and out of the door before you even had a chance to blink. Sighing with relief you locked your door and undressed quickly, changing into a pair of plain sweats and a hoodie.

Your chair creaked under your weight as you hurridly plopped in the seat to log in to the game so you could do some raids with the guild. MMORPG's weren't usually on your list of games to play, but Jimin played it once and got everyone to play with him and now you all were hopelessly hooked on them. It was a nice change of pace from the shoot and run games you usually played.

"NO FUCKING WAY!" you heard Taehyung screech from down the hall in his room, causing your to jump up from your chair and run towards your bedroom door. As you were pulling it open, Taehyung was pushing it in.

"No. Fucking. Way." he repeated, his eyes literally sparkling and a big lopsided grin on his face.

"What? What's wrong?" you asked, quickly looking him over to make sure he hadn't hit his head and completely lost his mind.

At that moment, Jimin and Jungkook showed up behind Taehyung, looking concerned for their tall friend who stood before you. Slowly, Taehyung began to raise his hand with a bright yellow post-it note in it. He held it in front of your face and it took you a solid three seconds to let your eye focus on the perfectly written words on the paper.

"Please call me, +82 32 0000 0000, Yoongi." you mumbled the words outloud.

Two gasps came from behind Taehyung and you suddenly realized what that note meant. "Where the hell did you get this?" you said ripping it from Taehyung's hands.

"In the pastry bag." Taehyung said as a matter of fact.

"Yoongi. THE YOONGI?!" Jimin screeched, slapping the ever living hell out of Jungkook's arm in excitement.

"Fuck, I seriously thought he didn't recognize me." you groaned and slapped yourself in the face to make sure this was real life, and unfortunately, it was.

Yoongi was to say the least, the best you ever had; the only you ever had. It happened during your last big game you had. You had won the tournament and had gotten a full exposé in a gaming magazine with the guys. You met Yoongi that whole week they were pulling you in for interviews. He had been with the caterers and special made you coffee every morning complete with cute little drawings on bright yellow post-it notes.

After that week ended, you didn't see him for almost six whole months until you ran into him again on Christmas Eve. The two of you happened to be drinking your sorrows and stress away at a bar and ended up going home together after talking for a few hours.

Yoongi was the most gentle when it came to having sex. You had been nervous and fairly sober by time the act was actually happening, and in your awkward embarassment you had told him it was your first time and he made it as special as one could make it. It wasn't just the way that he made love, but the way he actually took his time and made sure you were comfortable the whole experience.

When the morning came, you had every intentions on staying for a while, but you had overheard him arguing with a woman at his front door and heard things you felt you shouldn't have heard - he had a girlfriend.

In your embarassment you gathered your clothes and slipped out through the patio and climbed over the small fence and did the walk of shame all the way to your apartment in the snow. When you had got home, Taehyung was coming in from his own night out and saw you and immediately went beserk when you told him what happened. It took a few hours to talk him down from going over there and beating Yoongi up for what happened. But even you didn't know the situation fully and didn't want to make accusations.

After that day you had become a recluse at home with your work and since Yoongi didn't have your contact information, neither one of you heard from each other again. Until today.

"Fuck, I can't believe he had the audacity to leave his number like that. Like you would even call him." Taehyung scoffed.

"I think she should call him." Jimin added from behind Taehyung.

"I agree." Jungkook said absently while he looked down at his phone.

You could almost hear the eye roll that Taehyung gave without even looking at him. Jimin and Jungkook weren't completely wrong though, you really should clear everthing up. You had really liked Yoongi and fantasized about him often, especially when you were feeling rather lonely.

Taehyung sighed and handed the post-it not over and left with a quick 'be careful' before he dragged the other two down the hallway with him. Closing your door, you walked over to your bed and sat at the foot of it, debating if you were really going to call him. Deciding to just do it, you dialed his number quickly and hit 'call' and held the phone nervously to your ear.

"Hello?" his lazy voice came through the phone.

"Yoongi? Hey, it's Y/N. I got your note."

A split second of silence was followed by what sounded like a relieved sigh, "Thank you for calling me. I know it's kind of sudden, but I get off work in about an hour, can you meet me?"

"Yeah, sure. Where?" your chest felt tight.

"My apartment. Do you remember where it is?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, awesome. I will see you soon." you could hear the smile in his voice.

You hung up quickly and dropped your phone in your lap and took a deep breath to settle your beating heart. It would take about 50 minutes to get to the other side of town at this time of day so you figured you had better get going.

Slipping on a pair of sneakers and grabbing your coat, you headed to the kitchen to let everyone know you were heading out.

"You're going dressed like that?" Jungkook scrutinized from his chair at the table.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" you shot back, looking down at your comfortable outfit.

"At least dress up for the dick you're about to get." he snorted.

Not willing to start that argument with him, you threw a banana from the counter at him and left in a huff, leaving behind three cackling men.

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

You didn't have to wait long for Yoongi when you arrived at his apartment. By time he showed up his cheeks and nose were bright red from the cold. He had a small smile on his face when he walked over to you to let you into the apartment.

"Thanks for coming on short notice." he said. You watched him pull his warm layers off one by one until he was left in his work uniform.

"Mm." you were unsure of what to say as you stood awkwardly in his living room. He could sense your hesitation of the whole situatioon and took note of you looking around the room as if you were actually looking for something and not just avoiding eye contact.

"So, I wanted to talk about what happened." Wow. Straight to it. "I feel like I did something wrong last time, and it's been killing me because I am unsure of what it was. I thought we got along pretty nicely, but maybe I was wrong?"

"You had a girlfriend." you could be straightforward too.

"I- I'm sorry what?" he choked out.

Taking a deep breath to steel your feelings in case you were about to be let down, you recanted your story of the morning you snuck out of his apartment like some lame criminal. He watched you and listened intently trying to hide a smile, but it didn't go unnoticed.

"Is something funny?" you huffed.

"No. I didn't have a girlfriend. Well, sorry that would be a lie. I did have a girlfriend and that girl that was here, was in fact my girlfriend at one point, but we had been broken up for a while. I'm not sure what kind of guy you take me for but I would never do something like what we did if I was already with someone." he tried to assure you.

"Oh. Well, I feel stupid." feeling your cheeks heat up from embarassment you tried to fix your eyes on anything but Yoongi's face.

"Yes, well, I was too. I had the means to contact you but I was too scared. I thought I had really done something horrible."

You both sat there in silence for a few minutes thinking about how dumb you both were. Yoongi walked slowly over to you, his hand reaching out. “I’m really sorry for what happened. I know it’s not an excuse, but I really didn’t know she would show up like that. She had a rough time since we broke up even though it was a mutual decision.” He tried to explain.

“No, it’s really okay, Yoongi.” You smiled and tried to comfort him, “for the record though I don’t regret what happened. You made it a very special occasion for me.”

Yoongi slipped his hand into yours slowly, and intertwined your fingers, pulling you to him. Letting his other hand trail slowly up your arm, to your neck, then to your cheek while he leaned in and kissed you slowly. The kiss was just as soft as you remembered it from a year ago. Everything about this man was gentle.

Letting your hands settle on his hips, you pushed yourself closer into the kiss; into him. Your heart was already beating eractically in your chest just from a simple kiss. Pushing gently, you felt his legs hit the couch and pushed him down. Taking charge, you straddled his lap while his hands guided your hips to a more comfortable position. Your hands found their way to his perfectly round cheeks and held his face while you fought the urge to devour him right then and there.

You could already feel the bulge pressing into you and you ground down on his hips, pulling a soft moan from him. He pulled back to look up at you and smile, recirpocating the movement of grinding up into you. Sucking in a breath, the two of you continued that little game for several minutes. His hands trailed up inside of your shirt, up your ribcage and further up to pull your hoodie off. His lips went straight to your chest and began planting small kisses over every inch of skin he could find.

Without even realizing it, he had unclasped your bra with one hand and pulled the lacy garment down with his teeth, his mouth immediately finding the soft round bud on your breast and sucking on it.

"Ahh.." you moaned, pushing your chest out just a little farther.

While his mouth worked on one nipple, his hand came up to the other and began to squeeze it gently and roll the sensitive bud between his fingers. You ground your hips down harder on his dick that you could assume was painfully strained in his pants.

Without warning, his hands went behind your knees and he flipped you so you were laying on your back on the couch. In one swift motion he pulled his shirt off over his head and discarded it somewhere behind the couch. Yoongi went directly back to your breasts, licking and sucking.

Allowing your hands to roam on his torso, you felt your way down his muscled chest to the top of his pants. Popping the button open quickly and all but shoving your hand down the waistband of his pants. Your hand found its target. Gripping Yoongi’s dick gently you began to pump him slowly.

“Fuuck..” his voice deep and husky against your skin. Before you knew it, Yoongi’s hands gripped the waistband of your sweats and pulled them down along with your underwear, leaving you completely exposed to him. You let go of him in shock.

His eyes roamed over your body slowly, appreciating what was in front of him. His long fingers gripped into your thighs and spread your legs apart and he quickly ducked down and began licking your pussy. Slow, teasing licks causing your breathing to speed up slightly.

One finger slid inside.

Then a second one.

He put the full attention of his mouth and tongue to your clit while his fingers worked their magic elsewhere. It didn’t take long for that sweet release to build up in the pit of your stomach.

“Ah, Yoongi..I’m-“ his fingers sped up ever so slightly and curled inward, hitting you just right and causing your orgasm to push through you.

“Holy fuck!” You raised your hand to your mouth and covered it while Yoongi continued what he was doing. Your legs were trembling but it felt too good to stop him.

You gazed down at him and caught him staring up at you from between your legs, if you hadn’t just came, you probably would again from that look alone.

Suddenly his fingers were gone from inside of you and inside of his mouth. He moaned and closed his eyes, tasting you on his fingers.

As much as you loved how gentle he was, you couldn’t take it anymore. You leaned up and pushed him back so he was sitting up. You made quick work of removing the rest of his clothing and straddling his lap. You could feel his dick pushing against you and it sent a shudder through your body.

It didn’t take too much adjusting before he was pushing into you. The feeling of his cock inside of your pussy was almost enough to send you over the edge again. Both of you moaned in pleasure, heartbeats picking up.

His hands found their way to your ass and you took that as a sign to go. However, leaving you without a chance to do anything about it, Yoongi began fucking up into you. His hips, slamming into you and the lewd sounds of skin slapping skin began to fill the small living room along with your combined moaning.

“Ah, you feel so fucking good.” Yoongi grunted, his eyes on yours, refusing to look away.

You settled with a nod in response because you knew you couldn’t reply with words. Instead you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him close to you and his thrusting got faster and harder.

A quick slap of his hand across your ass brought forth a yelp from your lips, “shit, shit, shit, fuck this feels so good.” You whined in his ear.

It gave him the notion to fuck into you harder, and that feeling began welling up inside of you again. “Yoongi~.” You moaned.

“C’mon baby.” He groaned.

That’s all it took to send another shockwave through your body. Your arms held him tighter to you while he continued to fuck you through your second orgasm. His hips getting sloppier and more desperate, quickly he was brought to his own orgasm.

“God damn.” He grunted through it, his forehead pressed into your shoulder while his hips stilled.

You both relaxed into the couch together, still in your close position, not able to move.

“That was nice.” You muttered.

“More than nice. God, I’ve been thinking about that for a year.” He admitted with a small laugh.

Both of you fell into a comfortable silence, and it wasn’t long before you thought he had fallen asleep. You leaned back to gaze at him and he was staring at you in wonder.

“What are your plans for Christmas Eve?” He asked suddenly.

“Oh, I’m not sure. Why?”

“Would you like to spend it with me?”

You smiled and nodded, “and don’t worry. It won’t be like last Christmas. I won’t disappear.”

He laughed and smiled widely, “Good.”

—————————

#bts #bts au #bts fanfic #bts fic #kim namjoon #min yoongi #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #i like you a latte au #ilyal #social media au #bts social media au #bts smut

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nitholites · 4 years

Text

Damienette Soulmate AU, part 2 (here we go again)

Part 1

Thank you @friendly-neighborhood-enby for proof-reading this word dump you’re gorgeous and I love you

Getting permission to leave the group was disturbingly easy. The fact that Marinette was so 'disruptive to the class, always starting things. Even when she should be leading by example' and Damian was 'so mature and responsible, and works at WE, where employees are known for their trust worthy natures!' helped.

"You are much too kind for them, Marinette," Damian said as they left the class behind. She had actually restrained him from saying one of the many roasts he dearly wanted to, or from punching the incompetent teacher in the face- whichever he felt like.

Marinette opened her mouth, but snapped it shut and hummed instead. "You can say it," Damian coaxed. "Never halt your speech in front of me."

The look she gave him made him want to turn around and give her class a word lashing they won't forget. She looked almost shocked someone wanted to hear from her- a reaction no one should have. The smile she sent at him made him reconsider that plan. "I wasn't planning on holding back my words- I just realized something."

"Oh? Mind sharing that?"

She nodded. "Maybe you're right, is all. My friends, Luka and Kagami, keep telling me the same thing. I just think it's time to stop defending them like this, is all."

"They truly don't deserve you," Damian said before his mind caught up. As her smile lightened the air around them, Damian asked more about her home life- her hobbies and parents. Learning she grew up in her parents' bakery rang a few bells, but Damian chose to ignore them. She may not have learned from her parents, after all. And how could an angel like her be tied to his mangled, dark soul?

She deserved the world, as he knew from their time together on the tour. He couldn't give her the light she deserved and gave others. But maybe he could give her a space away from the air of her class, away from the cruelty of the people she used to call friends. That would be enough.

Regardless of what he could or couldn't do, what he would do was simple: Protect the smile that lit up the world for as long as she allowed.

Yes, he realized just how absurd that thought process was. They'd known each other for a day- no, a few hours. Vowing to protect her smile so soon was absolutely foolish. If it were anyone other than the kind, selfless girl beside him, Damian wouldn't have given her a spare glance.

If his brothers could see him now, he'd be mercilessly teased till the end of his days. He could hear their voices now- laughing with undertones of utter shock and disbelief.

But when she smiled, when her laugh chimed through the air like a clear bell... well, he couldn't bring himself to care.

Still, he'd suppress his quickly-growing fondness to something manageable until he had time to sort his thoughts.

Marinette, not for the first time that day, had to stop herself from letting loose her full laughter, trying not to embarrass herself and her company in public. She knew she could be loud- her voice carried when she wasn't careful, so she tried staying silent to counterbalance it- but the teen in front of her didn't seem to mind. If anything, he looked amused. The café was their most recent stop, after the museum, gardens, and flea market. A short coffee break before they went back to her class.

"Seriously?" She couldn't- absolutely could not- believe the tale Damian told, though he hadn't yet lied to her.

The teen nodded soberly, echoes of a smirk lingering on his face. "Alfred doesn't trust anyone in his kitchen anymore."

"It's no wonder! I'd do the same thing if my kitchen was as trashed," she stated, letting her hands follow her enthusiasm. "Your brothers committed the equivalent of kicking a homeless, 3-legged puppy to any self-respecting baker, let alone chef! My poor grandfather would have a heart attack!"

"Do you bake?" The question was accented with a slight raise of an eyebrow- a sort of challenge. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was many things- but a loser was not one of them, regardless of the game. Is this a game? she asked herself, slightly surprised at that train of thought. She found she couldn't answer, realizing their conversations were many things.

"When I'm stressed," she admitted. "I love the bakery and my parents, but practically coming out of the womb with a baking sheet in my hands put a few... habits in me."

Damian didn't verbally respond, moving his hand and nodding as though to say 'Go on'. So she did. "Bakers wake up at least two hours before the shop opens- or at least we do. The bakery opens at seven A.M. every morning, so we wake up at five at the latest. Usually closer to four," she started, sending a bright smile and a nod to the waiter who set down her coffee. A returned smile and a small greeting later, she returned to her explanation. "So check ‘early riser’ off the list. As stated before, I stress-bake. But I also help Papa with trying new recipes. So I'm practically always on the lookout for new or interesting flavors and combinations. Sometimes, I get so focused that I forget what I was doing," she sheepishly smiled, earning a chuckle from the boy before her.

"How do Gotham pastries compare to your family's?"

He thought the question was innocent enough.

Thought being the crucial word there.

A fire lit in Marinette's eyes then, a fire that told of harsh rants and moving arms. She laid all her complaints out there, genuine tears gathering at her eyes as she mourned the lack of decent baked goods. And as she explained each good, Damian found himself nodding along, nearly able to taste the poor items from her descriptions alone.

He nearly gagged from the imaginary taste. Never before had he uttered a sincere apology to someone outside his family, but he found himself looking into her eyes with as much remorse as he could muster. "I'm extremely sorry you had to sample those."

"It's alright, I suppose," she sighed. "I've actually started working with the bakers there to improve the pastries."

"Already? How long have you been in Gotham?"

"About a day."

She moved fast. "Perhaps one of these days, I can show you the better restaurants Gotham has to offer."

Damian paused, his mouth having moved before his brain even realized he spoke. "I mean, if you're free," he added, trying desperately to make the awkwardness clinging to the table vanish.

Before she could answer, a familiar voice called out. "Ya sure it's here, Pam?"

Damian turned in his seat, surprised at the arrival of none other than Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy. He had to forcefully relax his body, seeing as the rogues had a good streak going. "I'm positive," the red-head responded, eyes searching the café. "This place is absolutely thriving." She gestured to the ivy on the wall near the register, which Damian now realized looked a bit greener than usual.

"Is something wrong?"

He turned back to Marinette, considering his next words. "Probably not," he eventually said. "What do you know of Gotham's rogues?"

"What was on the internet," she replied, eyeing the two women with... interest. "I wanted to make sure everything we needed to know was in the pamphlets, so I did my research."

Neither got the opportunity to speak more as Ivy approached their table, Harley following close behind. The questions sent Ivy's way were ignored, both from Harley and Damian. But Marinette's were answered, as she asked with a small smile. "May I help you?"

"How are you doing that?"

Marinette blinked, confusion etching into her features. "I'm sorry?"

"The plants are singing your praises," Ivy continued. "You heal them. How?"

If Damian had been watching Marinette instead of Ivy and Harley, he would have seen the flicker of understanding and surprise pass through the small girl. As it was, only Ivy, who had been watching her intently, saw it. "I simply have a bit of a green thumb," Marinette smiled, tilting her head as she did so. “That… isn’t a problem, is it?”

“Of course not,” Ivy immediately responded, shaking her head. “I just came to thank you. For as long as I’ve been Poison Ivy, the plants in Gotham have never been happier than in your presence.” Shocked silence came from the other Gothamites, but Marinette was only embarrassed. She had never been good at receiving compliments, even before Lila and most compliments turned into sneers and bullying.

Marinette stammered as she tried to thank the woman, the heat in her cheeks only adding to her embarrassment. Her words failing, she took a deep breath and calmed herself until she could speak in full sentences. “It’s really no problem- I’m just happy to help.”

The café

seemed to hold it’s breath- or perhaps the people inside did. Either way, nothing moved until Ivy did, smiling. “What’s your name, Blue Bell?”

Blue Bell? She answered anyway, having practice ignoring nicknames (even if she didn’t mind the kind ones). “Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m here on a class trip. You’re Mademoiselle Isley and Mademoiselle Quinn, oui?”

The women nodded, sending smiles to the girl. “Aw, ain’t ya such a darlin’,” Harley cooed, lightly pushing past her girlfriend to pat the sweet teen on the head. “A right angel in Gotham, ya are. How long ya stayin’, Sunshine?” Harley slid into the booth as she asked.

“A couple months. Hopefully longer, if my application is accepted.”

“Already looking for colleges?” Now Pamela was in the booth, sat beside Damian as she joined in the questioning. Marinette nodded, taking a sip of her lukewarm coffee. “All the way in Gotham?”

“I want to experience fashion and culture outside of Paris,” Marinette started. “See what the rest of the world is like while I have the chance.”

Every passing moment with Marinette caused not only the rogues, but the other Gothamites in earshot to start rooting for her. Alas, time marches on, and both groups had things to do. They split at the entrance, Marinette and Damian beginning their trek to find her class and the rogues going to… well, neither teen would ask.

Robin suppressed a sigh, eyes scanning the streets below his perch. “No helping it, Baby Bird,,” the infuriating voice of his eldest brother sounded. “It’s a slow night for everyone.”

“The third slow night in a row,” he shot back, leaping from the ledge he used as a perch. The wind tousled his hair as he swung through the night, boredom already settling in his bones. “Something’s brewing.”

“I’ll look into it,” Oracle’s voice pitched in. Silence followed (if you ignored his brothers’ incessant chattering -which Damian did). At least until Oracle spoke again. “Reported argument, three blocks from the museum. Possible escalation. Robin’s the closest.”

“I’ll check it out,” he said over his brothers’ complaints.

Only a minute of swinging later, and Robin could hear the argument. If you could even call it an argument. A large, burly man stood yelling at a smaller, meeker-looking young man, an even smaller girl between them standing tall. With pigtails.

Wait.... Robin knew those pigtails- he saw them only hours ago! Why was she out of the hotel? In Gotham? At night?! Did she have a death wish?! His mask zoomed in, their voices sounding in his ear. The large man’s yelling practically boiled down to ‘He’s my boyfriend, and therefore my property’ in prettier, louder words. Robin rolled his eyes, having seen this kind of situation countless times before. Damian, though, watched the man and Marinette, worried for her safety.

The big man started spewing nonsense about the smaller ‘getting like this sometimes’ and ‘needing to take his meds, he gets confused’. The shaking man refuted everything said, repeatedly stating how he was done, trying to get away from the man who took everything from him.

“You think those morons you call friends would take you in?! They abandoned you! You have nowhere else to go!”

“Anywhere’s better than here!”

Marinette just stood, glaring down the man who was literally three times her size. But when he tried grabbing behind her, she moved. Before anyone could say or do anything, the man was out cold with a bleeding face, on his stomach as she tightened a couple zip ties around his wrists and ankles.

Robin had to pause his thoughts and think back to register what happened. A knee to the groin. Hands on either side of his head, holding it in place as she kneed his nose hard enough to break. When he didn’t go down, she swept his legs from under him and kicked his temple.

Her voice was too soft for the microphone to pick up, but by the way the smaller man’s face slowly relaxed, she had to have been saying something.

She didn’t spin to face Robin as he dropped, but did stop talking. Standing, she pulled out her phone. “May I help you?”

“I should be the one asking,” Robin stated, puzzled at the slight tensing of her shoulders. She turned, making a face at him once she did. “What?”

“You’re a traffic light,” she stated. “I prayed the images online were photo-shopped.” She sighed, shaking her head and tutting as the man behind her chuckled. Pulling a card from her purse, she pushed it into Robin’s hands, stepping on the zip tied man on the ground. “I will literally remake your entire group’s costumes for free if you send me the material. Heaven knows I can’t let the protectors of Gotham dress as clowns,” she muttered.

Robin crossed his arms with a scowl, narrowing his eyes. “Who says we-”

“Nope,” she interrupted, holding a hand up to silence him. “No way am I letting anyone- anyone- run around looking like-” she gestured to all of him, scrunching her nose in disgust “-like that. Doing so is an insult to fashion designers everywhere.”

Back and forth they went, until Robin paused and looked to the victim.

Laughter.

Marinette smiled as she turned around, gesturing between the two conscious men. “He agrees! You’re giving the gays and fashion icons nightmares, Robin. Nightmares.”

The laughter flowing from Robin’s earpiece didn’t help the situation.

Once the cop car (singular, without sirens as Marinette had asked in her call) rounded the corner, the three gave their statements and went on their ways.

For the most part.

Robin went with Marinette a ways, both of them stopping at the intersection. “You know how dangerous it is at night.” Once she nodded, he continued. “Why were you out?”

“Well, I had a feeling,” she shrugged, letting a hand land on her hip. “I was just going to the coffee shop down the block when they ran past me, like I told the officer.”

Neither spoke for a moment, standing in silence. “Be more careful next time.”

She smiled, starting to walk again. “Always.”

Taglist:

@goblinwhoships @mochegato

#mlb x dc #marinette dupain cheng #class salt #lila salt #damian wayne #batfam #alfred knows all #alfred pennyworth #crossover #soulmate #soulmate au

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iwillhaveamoonbase · 4 years

Text

The Long Game ch. 6

Soren ran a hand through his hair, checking his teeth as he looked in the mirror. Rayla had agreed to go to the market in town with him and there was no way he was going to mess it up. He’d been pining for Rayla for too long. “Done looking at yourself, Soren?”

Soren’s back straightened immediately and he turned to see his father, disapproval clear on his face. “Just getting ready for my date, Dad.”

“With Rayla, I presume.”

Soren grinned. “Yep. She actually agreed to going somewhere with me.”

Viren nodded, walking up to Soren. It was quiet for a few tense moments, Viren casting him a critical eye. “Make sure you get her attention and keep it. Rayla is Harrow’s ward and Claudia is trying to get Prince Callum to give her the proper attention she deserves as a lady of her station. Our connection as a family can only strengthen if at least one of you marries one of them.”

Soren’s brows furrowed. “But, I like Rayla for Rayla. Besides, it’s not like Callum and Rayla like each other.”

Viren scoffed as he shook his head. “Are you that blind? Do whatever you must do, Soren, but make sure you get Rayla’s attention and keep it.” Viren moved to leave the room, pausing at the door. “And, Soren,” Soren looked over at him, “make sure that, no matter what, you have the needs of the family in mind at all times. After all, the three of us only have each other.”

Soren gulped. “We have Harrow, Ezran, and Callum. Even Amaya-”

“How did I raise a fool for a son?” Soren clamped his mouth shut, looking down at the ground. “Harrow is trying to force us out. So is Amaya and Callum.”

“They just don’t like dark magic. If you and Claudia stopped, it would be fine, Dad.”

“And risk the elves coming in and killing us all? Stop practicing our main means of defense? I don’t think so.”

Soren stayed quiet as Viren went on about the history of dark magic and all the good it’s done. He’d heard this a million times before. Soren didn’t really get Callum and Rayla’s or even Harrow and Amaya’s hang-ups with dark magic, but he also didn’t get why his family was so enamored by it. It was a tool, right? Only good or bad depending on how it was used. His father had once healed his sickly body so he could be a crown guard while dark magic was also responsible for loss of life. “Got to go, Dad,” Soren mumbled, walking out.

There was only so much of Viren he could take anymore. Something had changed in his father since the day he and Harrow had left to kill the Dragon King. He mumbled to himself far more than before, looked at mirrors more, and had even started becoming obsessed with primal magic to a degree Soren couldn’t remember his father being. It was almost like he was a man possessed, but, perhaps, that obsession had always existed in Viren.

Soren smiled when he saw Rayla waiting for him in the courtyard, her long hair in a side braid and her long legs clad in pants. Even leaning against a wall, hands in her pockets, she gave an air of knowing everything that was happening around her. She almost felt dangerous some days, like she was watching and waiting for a chance to do something.

He was about to shout out a greeting to her when he saw the soft smile on her face directed at Callum, who Soren was only now noticing was also there. Callum had his sketchbook open and was gesturing wildly with his hands. Rayla nodded along, her head thrown back and laughing at something Soren was too far away to hear. He was about to announce his presence when Callum reached out a hand and lightly stroked Rayla’s cheek. Soren paused, watching while Rayla’s eyes moved to Callum’s lips and she didn’t swat his hand away.

Even from where he was, Soren could sense the unspoken tension and want in the air between Rayla and Callum. Callum leaned in a tad before pulling away, his hand also falling. Rayla stayed still, eyes still locked on his. Their lips moved and Soren caught a few words: ‘sorry’, ‘dirt’, ‘fun’. Callum finally moved away, walking towards the castle and away from Rayla, though she watched him go with longing in her blue eyes.

Soren’s eyes narrowed for a moment before sighing. Well, his father may have been right, but maybe this date would change her mind. The look she gave him when she noticed his presence was friendly, but not filled with the same longing he had seen in her before. “Hey, Soren. We ready to go?”

Soren nodded. “Yep. I’m surprised you even agreed to come with me.”

Rayla shrugged. “I need a gift for Ezran’s birthday. Besides, you tend to be decent company most days.”

Soren grinned, running a hand through his hair. “Oh? Only decent?”

Rayla nodded. “Yep. Trust me, that’s a compliment.” They went through the town and looked for gifts for Ezran. They chatted and mumbled about what he would and wouldn’t like, bemoaning how hard it was to shop for a kid who could have anything he wanted with the snap of his fingers but always said he didn’t want anything. “I knew I should have asked Callum to come. He’s so much better at this than I am.”

Soren shrugged. “Yeah, the step-prince is good at that.”

Ralya’s whole demeanor went icy, slowly turning to him. “Why do you keep calling him that? It’s not nice. You’re better than that, Soren.”

“Well, I’ve known him almost our whole lives and-”

“I don’t care. He’s the prince. Even if he’s not the heir, that doesn’t change that Harrow raised him.”

“I know. It’s just-. Harrow loves him more than my dad loves me, I think. I guess it’s a way to make me feel better.”

“Does it really make you feel better?”

“…No.”

“Then stop.” Soren nodded, hoping Rayla would drop it. He felt a lot worse now than he had in a while, not only because Rayla was scolding him, but because it was becoming increasingly obvious that Rayla held a soft spot for Callum she simply did not hold for him.

“OK.”

“Thank you.”

“Why do you even care?”

“Because it hurts Callum that you do that. It’s like you’re trying to keep him down. I don’t appreciate that, to be honest. You pick on his insecurities concerning Harrow. Your parents may have divorced, but you were still raised by your dad. You can’t know what life is like for Callum.”

“What about your parents?” Rayla raised a brow. “You never talk about them.”

Rayla shrugged. “What’s there to talk about? I was raised by them until I was five and then was raised by their two friends. I get Callum a bit more because I understand wanting that connection. I get that grief of losing someone you love and not having easy access to people who are willing to or even can talk about them. Your mom hurt you and your dad is an ass, but don’t take it out on Callum anymore. Got it?”

“Got it.” They finally decided on getting Ezran a book on animals that neither had seen in the library to be from Rayla and, from Soren, a new hair oil from Del Bar that was supposed to be good for curls. They were quiet on the way back to the castle, the comradery gone. “Are you in love with Callum?” Soren asked. He had to know.

Rayla didn’t turn to Soren. He couldn’t read her posture or her half-hidden expression. “People really need to stop pushing us together,” she whispered. Before Soren could ask anymore, Rayla walked by him with a muttered ‘thank you.’ Soren didn’t know what to make of it, but, as far as he could tell, he still had a shot. Rayla hadn’t said ‘yes’, so maybe, he had misunderstood what he had seen earlier. Rayla just thought of Callum as a good friend. He hadn’t gotten confirmation that it was a date, but he hadn’t been told it wasn’t one either. It was his first big victory in his plans to finally court the elusive ward of Katolis.

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

“FUCK!” Rayla screamed in her pillow when she finally got to her room. “Damn the Sources!” Rayla raised her eyes and looked at the moon. Even Soren had figured it out. Were the gods mocking her? If even Soren had picked up on her being in love with Callum, how long would it be before this became too difficult to keep to herself? Could she even fulfill her mission?

Tears of frustration ran down her cheeks as she tried to control her breathing. She wasn’t so sure she could fulfill her mission anymore. Ezran didn’t deserve to die. She knew that. He clearly had no knowledge that the Dragon King was even dead or what had happened to the egg. As for Harrow, well, Rayla wasn’t sure how much of the plot against the Dragon King was him and how much of it was Viren. This was why she had come, wasn’t it? To gather information…but the hit was out for Harrow and Ezran. If they didn’t die, then Viren and Soren had to die. Viren probably deserved it, but Soren? No, Soren hadn’t been there and while Rayla had her suspicions that Soren and Claudia knew what had happened, she wasn’t so sure that they were involved or even approved of it.

Rayla lay in bed for hours, her mind awash in confusion. She had a mission. She had to fulfill the mission, even if she thought it was wrong. Rayla turned back to the moon. But Callum…was she willing to throw away a future with him for the mission? If she just let go, could she be happy with him? Would she even be able to hide the truth for that long? Probably not. Their children would be halflings. How would she explain that? Why did this have to be so complicated?

‘I never should have come here. I’m messing up. I messed up. I feel in love with the target’s son…I’m worse than my parents.’ Rayla didn’t dare think it, but she couldn’t deny the truth any longer: if Callum told her he loved her and wanted to be with her, she would abandon her old life and stay with him as long as he was willing to have her. Surprisingly, it was a lot more freeing to admit to herself than to keep locked up in her heart. Perhaps, the time was coming for her to go home. Could she even without completing the mission?

Rayla didn’t sleep that night and no further clarity came to her. No matter what choice she made, she was leaving behind those she loved. No matter her decision, someone was going to suffer and she was going to be the cause of it. As much as she wanted to be with Callum, she also still wanted Runaan and Ethari and even Tiadrin and Lain in her life. Even though they had betrayed the Dragon King, she still wanted all four of her parents. But, one thing had become crystal clear to her: the long she stayed, the harder the choice would be. She had to make a choice soon. Callum was fast approaching 18, old enough to court under the law and a lot of people were already expecting him to choose her. Could she give him that choice? Rayla wasn’t sure, even if that’s what she wanted most in her heart.

#rayllum #rayllum fanfic #tdp #the dragon prince #the long game #moonbase fanfics #au

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viostormcaller · 4 years

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Thinking about it, it kinda sucks just how little new horizons has.

Like... I love the game to pieces and maybe this is just bc im in a shitty mood (which i am) but like... god this is gonna be long and ranty and I'm sorry in advance that mobile tumblr doesnt have the read more feature

For starters, holidays are all scheduled on the company's terms, meaning in 7+ years or so there will be no more in-game holidays because by then they'll probably be thinking about/getting ready to release the next installment of the series on whatever console is out at the time and they won't want to update new horizons anymore. And adding onto this, you need the internet to download the updates. What happens to the players who don't have internet?? Can they just never experience the holidays like bunny day and toy day and turkey day? That takes a HUGE part of the fun of the series out right off the bat. Sometimes making everything rely on the internet is a bad idea. Idk if anyone can like tell me if having no internet means you can't take part in the holidays, but like... god if that's true thats really sad.

They recently took out the hybrid flower and big fish islands, which makes no sense whatsoever why they would do that to a game that has so little, but ok?? It's not like that feature was hindering the gameplay any

There's a lot of furniture but Not a Lot of Furniture, you get me? They took out EVERY set except the classic set (renamed "antique") that you can buy for an insanely high price, and the log and wooden block sets that you can craft, but other that that it's all unrelated items that aren't part of any set, aside from the cute set and diner and throwback sets which as far as I can remember are the only other sets you can buy in the game. No alpine, no ranch, no minimalist, no princess or gracie, no modern or sleek, none of that. And 90% of all the buy-only furniture in the game is just the color variants. You can't even customize them! And it's hard as fuck to find the color variants you want, much less for completing a furniture set

And speaking of which, your starting villagers don't get their default house interiors. Your first three + your two starters from the tutorial days have the same generic layouts. You NEVER see what their houses are supposed to look like, and even if you give them the wallpaper and flooring they're supposed to have (if you figure that out online somewhere), their house doesn't change (I tested this with Sherb and was kinda disappointed).

And stuff is so EXPENSIVE. I know it adds a challenge but my final loan was NEVER 1 mil+ bells in New Leaf. And you can't even expand the extra first floor rooms you get. I'm literally getting less for WAY more. The biggest rooms you get are the basement and upstairs rooms. The first floor rooms aside from the main room really don't have a lot of space and with the different furniture they DO offer, I don't have a lot of room to put things in. But it's not like I can even afford it anyway -- just a freaking air conditioner was 63,000 bells. In New Leaf it was 2500. That's a MASSIVE jump. And the kitchen items are so freaking expensive, as well.

And speaking of houses, for someone who was literally in the real estate industry in the last game, tom nook adds very few house exterior options. And the even more shitty thing is that a lot of the colors straight up don't match. They couldn't even add a plain white roof.

God and the fucking DIY recipes. I know I've said this before on my other tumblr but the RNG for this game is the worst I've ever fucking seen. There is no reason why, two months into the game, I can be given a recipe for a simple DIY bench, which EVERYONE LEARNS IN THE TUTORIAL. Who the fuck am I giving it to?! No one, because literally every player knows it already, and you can't gift diy recipes to villagers! And I keep getting repeats of recipes. My villagers give me fruit DIYs all the time, it's so rare for me to get any new ones. And two days in a row I've gotten the recipe for the deer head mount thing from the same villager. New recipes should 100% take the priority before repeats. This game is slow paced, sure, but that's just frustrating. It doesn't make me excited to learn more recipes, it makes me feel like I'm never gonna learn any new ones because I'll get the same fruit DIYs for a week straight.

And speaking of which, you can't put trees, bushes, or flowers in your storage, which to me makes literally no sense. I can fit a giant ass fountain in my storage but I can't put a flower plant? Really? And speaking of storage, for a game that added 300 whole slots for mail instead of the usual 10, I will never understand why they decided to halve the amount of items a player can order a day from the nook shopping, AND make it so that it takes a whole day to get there instead of making deliveries at 9 am and 5 pm like in New Leaf.

And the fact that they made it so hard to get non native fruit and flowers and shit??? Like they at LEAST added Lief so flowers aren't as much of an issue anymore, but you actually have to travel to other people's islands just to get all the fruits?? I know you have to do the same thing in New Leaf but the reason why this is an issue for me is because you have to pay for online access, meaning most of those nook miles for planting all the fruits are locked behind a paywall unless your villagers can gift them to you. And your mom, when you first start the game, has a chance of giving you the one fruit that's on the non-native fruit mystery island, meaning you'll only get ONE new fruit and not two separate ones (for example, my sis got pears from mom but her non native fruit islands have cherries i believe. I got pears from mom and my fruit islands also have pears. Doesnt help that that's the one fruit i hate lmao). They also took OUT a bunch of fruits, like mangoes, durians, lemons, bananas, lychees, persimmons...

And the fact that your nook miles rewards are ISLAND LOCKED. That is the WORST SHIT. Not everyone has the ability to play with others, bc no internet or no money for the subscription every month. Not everyone WANTS to play with others bc maybe they get social anxiety (like me, which is why i havent asked for things that are impossible for me to get even though i want them for my island or house), or maybe they simply just don't want to. But the fact that each island has their own color variants of the same goddamn rewards that CANNOT BE CHANGED makes me so upset. I do not want nor should I have to rely on others to get the items I want because my game doesn't have my preferred color variations. And it's not like I'm far enough in the game to have anything worth trading for said items, nor do I have the bells.

And Isabelle does next to fucking nothing and I'm really irked about how they made her character in this game. Yeah she's cute, but that's ALL she is. She became more ditzy than anything else. She doesn't let you know about visitors in the town or the plaza or if a bridge or incline was built bc of a completed donation goal. Like really useful info to know would be if Flick or CJ is in town or who is selling stuff in the plaza. Flavor text is nice but if that's all you say 24/7 it loses its charm. In New Leaf she was helpful and hardworking and super focused and on top of things. Idk why they changed that aspect of her. I know her role in New Horizons isn't as big as it was in New Leaf, but still.

And then there's glitches that STILL haven't been patched (as far as I know anyway), like the game-breaking villager corruption glitch (which you'd think nintendo would have made a priority but they're too busy removing other features it seems) or the house exterior glitch.

And it's bad enough that your game saves to your fucking system a la Fantasy Life. But even WORSE, no one can have separate islands on one console. It's not enough to own two copies of New Horizons. Each player has to own one copy of the game and a whole new Switch just so they can play on their own islands. Parents can't usually afford that (aka $360 for each kid give or take) so for a game marketed towards kids, I don't know why they thought that was a smart move (well, I DO know, and that's because money, but still). And to top it all off, cloud saves are not supported normally. If you lose your game or your switch and aren't subscribed to nintendo online, well, it looks like all your progress is gone! And there's nothing you can do about it. And they directly claimed that they did this just so people can't manipulate the game because it's supposed to be played in real time. But people can still fucking time travel by setting the system's clock! They achieved nothing except to make the players frustrated!!! If you make a game you need to accept that the player is going to play how THEY want to. You shouldn't try to make everyone conform to the way YOU want them to play. That just makes you a controlling asshole and the game loses a lot of its fun.

This game was 60 bucks and they took so long to make it and we ended up with less than we got in New Leaf. The main thing they gave us was a shit ton more clothing items (which I really like). Like I said, I love this game to pieces and it's actually one of my favorite games right now. There's so much I love about it -- I certainly don't hate it or anything. But this game has SO MANY flaws, a lot of which are needless. And I think the kid in me just misses the days where you can pay for a game and get the whole game right away. No updates in tiny batches, no content locked behind paywalls, no day one patches, no reliance on internet connection and multiplayer... mainstream companies have all gone really downhill with that shit and it just disappoints me to no end. But because Nintendo is kid-oriented, I think that's where it hurts the most. It was supposed to be accessible, family friendly fun like back during the days of the Wii and the DS. But companies get so wrapped up in competing with each other and trying to make the most money that they forget about all that. I dunno. It just sucks.

If you read all this, god damn I'm surprised XD I got super ranty and I apologize. But I'm in a sad mood and I after learning about features they've taken out I just had to get all this off my chest. It's been weighing on me since the game released, especially since for months prior this game was all I could think about and I was really looking forward to it. It just let me down in a lot of ways, I guess.

#long post #rant #animal crossing new horizons #acnh #vio stormcaller

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