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springseasonie · 7 months

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I'm a Mouse, Duh! | LJN + NJM (M)

Roommate Jeno x fem reader x roommate Jaemin, Halloween party trope, pure filth

Summary: Nomin in police costumes and Y/N in a "mouse" costume (it's literally just lingerie). Will they fuck? Keep reading to find out! (the answer is yes) (the title is a mean girls reference if you didn't notice btw)

Warnings: sexual content, dom Jeno, dom Jaemin, oral (fem and male receiving), Eifel tower 😖, spiting, cum eating, ass eating, butt stuff (it's my first time writing this don't judge too hard), double penetration, slight crying kink

Word count: 8,3k

Song recs: needs by tinashe

A/N: the drought is over!!! I have posted. This is my kinktober thing bcs I've been too busy with life so I hope y'all like this even though it's a bit rushed. This can kinda be like a "the walls are thin" special episode if you will. Also tysm for 800 followers (even though I'm barely posting). Feedback is loved and appreciated 🤍🤍

"Can you please hurry up? The party started an hour ago," Jaemin yelled from the living room.

"Don't rush me. You want me to look nice right? Be patient," you yelled back, applying the red lipstick carefully. You checked your hair in the mirror one last time, fixing your lashes as you leaned into your vanity.

"I'm sure you look fine. Hurry, I want to get there before they run out of beer," Jeno yelled.

"Gosh, I'm coming," you said, grabbing your bag. You opened your room door, heels clicking as you walked out the both of them sitting on the couch. You stared at them, face contorting in confusion. "Cops? Really?"

They turned to you, staring at you for a little longer than they should've. Your outfit was definitely something beyond scandalous. Lace lingerie, fishnets, heels, and a headband. Jaemin swallowed hard, eyes scraping every inch of your body. The obscene 'costume' hugged your body like it was made for you. And your lips looked great in red. He always loved the color on you. Jeno didn't hide his emotions like Jaemin did though. He was always shameless. Letting you know how good you look even on days where you weren't very dressed up. Jeno had always been attracted to you. Both of them were, making being roommates with them very hard at times.

"That's your costume," Jaemin questioned, eyes scanning you once again stopping at your cleavage.

"Yes it is."

"And what are you supposed to be," Jeno continued.

"I'm a mouse," you said, pouting at the headband. "Duh."

Jeno chuckled at your answer, raking his hands through his hair as he stared at you. "If I were to guess, I'd probably say playboy model."

"Ha ha very funny," you mumbled. "Anyway, I'm ready. Are you both going to keep sitting there staring or do you wanna go?"

"Yeah, the party, right." Jaemin pulled out his phone, ordering Uber for the three of you. You all walk outside, standing in front of your apartment. Tonight, the biggest frat of your university was going to throw a Halloween party. They're known for having the best parties, so this one shouldn't be short of excitement. You were hoping and praying to get laid tonight after a 4 month dry spell. You needed action, no matter where you got it from.

Hopefully, your dream could come true. It shouldn't be that hard right? After all, it was Halloween.

You definitely were not gonna get laid tonight. Half of the frat is already piss drunk, the sports bros are hooking up or going home early, all the hot guys are with their girlfriends. It looked like luck was in fact not on your side. In moments like these you would nuzzle into one of your friends arms and complain but they were all off doing whatever for the night. Now it was just you and the red solo cup full of various alcoholic beverages mixed together. The drink was rancid, but it would have you loose in no time to help you get comfortable.

Funny thing about it was you'd probably never be comfortable. You definitely did not have the most outrageous outfit in the house, but the eyes that lingered on you made you feel like you did. This costume was completely out of your norm. Every other Halloween, Jeno and Jaemin would dress up as something funny, but this time you wanted to take a bit of a break. Now that break is costing you foot pain, forcing you to stand in the corner in 5 inch heels for an hour and a half.

You stopped your drink, trying your best to avoid the gaze of the men who migrated around the house. But there was one gaze you couldn't shake no matter how much you tried. Jaemin watched you from the other side, eyes scanning your body like they did hours prior. He was so attracted to you it made him crazy. This was probably the first time he felt like he needed you. There were times where he walked in on you accidentally, saw you in underwear, but nothing could compare to this.

You stood there, gorgeous as ever, in the sexiest clothes ever, tiny bits of skin peeking through the lace making his mind wild. And now that he had just the right amount of alcohol in his system, he could finally do something about it.

You didn't notice Jaemin walking towards you, so when you heard him speak, you jumped a bit.

"Y/N," he said, making you turn around.

"God, you scared me," you laughed. You watched him lean on the wall, one hand on his cup and the other in his pocket. His eyes hung low, lips curved into a smile as he stared at you.

"Ah, sorry. Didn't mean to." Jaemin sipped his drink, licking his lips as he continued to look at your cleavage. "I didn't tell you earlier but… you look great tonight."

The way his eyes went from your lips to your chest didn't go unnoticed. "You didn't have to tell me, you've been staring since we got here," you say. You thought that would probably throw him off his game but to your surprise, all he did was grin and laugh.

"So you noticed?"

"Of course I noticed. Everyone's been staring at me. Am I that naked," you question.

"Do you feel naked?"

"I do when you look at me like that," you laugh. Jaemin's eyes were always the thing that told you the most. He could've lied and said you look ridiculous but his expressions never lie. He didn't know, but you always felt vulnerable under his stare. Like he could do anything and everything. And you would definitely let him.

"If you wanna fuck me, just say so," you joke. You brought the cup to your lips, drinking the party battery acid. Your eyes were locked on his, the tension between you both becoming thicker and thicker by the second. For a minute, you forgot that you were in a room full of people because all you wanted to do was rip that costume off him and give him what he was begging for.

Jaemin watched you as you pulled the cup away from your lips, lipstick staining the plastic. A drop of the liquid remained on your lip, the sight making Jaemin swallow hard. All he could think about was that pretty lipstick being in places it shouldn't be. Jaemin reached up, tilting your chin to him softly as he took his thumb and wiped the drop.

Your stomach erupted in butterflies, heat spreading between your legs when he maintained eye contact. You didn't mean to, but you leaned into his touch, slightly gasping when he continued staring at you.

"Should I fuck you," he said out right.

Your heart beat sped up immediately, this sudden surge of confidence in him making you go crazy. That's when you noticed how close you both were. Jaemin's face was hovering right above yours, one more step and he would be kissing you. His lips looked so soft and inviting, so why not make it happen. You glanced at his lips then looked back at his eyes slowly getting sucked into his little game.

"Is this part of your whole police bit? Interrogating me like this,' you joke, trying to take some edge off the moment. "Are you going to arrest me if I don't answer?"

Jaemin didn't answer, just grinned. You always had a way of getting out of something and that something just so happened to be the sexual tension that's been brewing between the both of you for the longest. You couldn't deny that he looked good in the costume. And you always had a thing for men in uniform.

But instead of making a move, Jaemin simply backed away from you, eyeing you up and down. "I'm not doing this here," he mumbled, licking his lips.

"Do it," you said. "Do whatever you want." You swallowed hard, watching Jaemin watch you. You wanted him to just grab you and take you right here in the corner of the room. No one would notice anyway. Everyone was either high, drunk or in their own world.

Jaemin chuckled, licking his lips. "I'll see you later okay. Don't get too drunk." And with that he walked away, leaving you hot and needy.

Your body moved to the music, surrounded on all sides by people who also danced, talked and laughed. So far it's been a blast. Nothing crazy has happened except for some guy fighting another guy for scaring him too badly, two freshmans getting caught in a bedroom together, a girl projectile vomiting all over the living room. But other than that, it's been a smooth night.

You keep thinking about how you talked earlier with Jaemin. His sly look, the confidence in his eyes, the way he towered over you. God, he was so enticing.

You kept sipping your drink, the liquid falling into your stomach and heating your body at the same time when you felt someone come up behind you. They held your hips, body swaying with yours. "I thought you would never come back," you said, leaning into their body.

"I haven't seen you all night."

You looked behind you, only to see Jeno staring at you with his signature smile. "I thought you were Jaem," you said, turning around fully. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he continued to hold your waist, body dancing with yours to the music.

"Why are you always looking for him and not me," he whined playfully.

You laughed, fingers playing in his hair. You felt his hands tense and tighten on your hips, fingers slightly pressing into your sides. This is the closest you've probably ever been to him. Due to the nature of your outfit, it felt like his hands were on your skin, making your body heat up a little too fast. You tried to push the thoughts of his hands ripping off the outfit, forcing you down to your knees, swirling your cup of liquid behind his head. You took your arm from behind him, sipping it slowly.

"Gosh what made you think this costume was a good idea," he groaned, his cute grin making you giggle.

"Why didn't you and Jaem tell me you guys were gonna be cops? I could've been a cop too," you laugh.

"No one likes female cops."

"Not true. You haven't seen me as a female cop yet." The funny thing is that he did it last year. Except you bought a proper cop costume instead of a 'sexy' one. "Besides, I like this one. It was cheap."

"Clearly," he chuckled. His laugh was deep, radiating through your entire chest. That's when you noticed he wasn't even looking in your direction. Jeno was looking directly at your cleavage as your chest was pressed right against his. He slid his hands down your hips and behind, palms loosely cupping your ass. "What were you looking to achieve wearing this Y/N? Because whatever it was, it might be working."

You reached back, moving his hands back to your hips. "I'm trying to get laid, and I'm trying to do it with anyone that's not you."

Jeno raised a brow, giving you a dry laugh. "You're the only woman I know who wouldn't take the easy route."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"I mean," he leaned into your ear, lips brushing against the edge,"what kind of woman wouldn't wanna fuck two guys who clearly wanna fuck her and happens to live with?"

Jenos hands snakes back to your ass, gripping it hard. Your brows furrowed as you looked up at him, who remained as calm and collected as he did earlier. God it made you crazy. You were already wet from the interaction with Jaemin earlier, this one with Jeno just making you soaked.

"You're so rough, don't manhandle me," you whined, chest slightly pushing against his.

"Don't pretend you don't like it rough. 'Harder, faster'," he mocked. You've been a little less discreet than you would've liked in the past, leading to weeks and weeks of bullying by the two. "Your taste in men is horrible. If you have to keep telling them what to do, they're horrible."

"And if I fuck you and Jaem, what would that make me," you ask, tilting your head.

"Smart."

You laugh, taking another big sip from your cup. All Jeno could think about was how close you were to him. How close he is to ripping your lack of real clothes off. He just wanted you to admit that you've been thinking about it too, but he's fine if you didn't. He enjoyed the chase. He watched you place the cup on the coffee table that's next to you, fully immersing yourself in the conversation you were having with him. But Jeno wishes he could immerse himself the same as you. The way you look at him, the way you let your fingers graze his arms. You had no idea.

"Do you like the police costumes," Jeno asked you, content expression on his face.

You nod, moving your arms from around his neck and placing them on his shoulders. "Of course I do. You look hot," you complimented, grazing your fingers down his arms.

"Hot enough for you to fuck?"

You gave him a soft laugh, rolling your eyes. "Keep asking and it'll never happen."

"So you've considered."

You shook your head, avoiding the obvious answer but he knew you better than that. You thought about fucking him and Jaemin almost everyday. The thought of them bending you over, fist in your hair as they took you from behind plagued your once sane mind more times than you would like to admit. The feeling of their rough strong hands on your body, forcing you into any position possible. You couldn't help it. Living in such close quarters with them gave you the privileges of seeing things other women would kill to see. The Halloween costumes made it so much worse, the want for them to dominate you stronger than ever. Maybe you had a thing for power, but whatever it was was turning you into the most horny woman where you stood.

"Don't lie to me," he said quietly. Jeno gave you a smug smile as he leaned into your ear. "Instead of trying to fuck one of these losers, all you have to do is say the word and we'll be out of here."

A shiver ran down your spine feeling his breath on your ear. You needed him badly. You needed Jaemin badly, and you just knew you had to take the opportunity, but not without teasing him so much. Just before you spoke, you felt someone press against your back, whoever it was was not breathing into your neck.

"You guys are having fun without me?"

You gulped, Jaemin's deep whisper traveling right between your legs. Jeno moved his hands to your hips allowing Jaemin to place his own hands on your waist. His fingers played with the thin fabric, nails threatening to tip the thread with every pass. Jaemin pressed his semi hard cock in your ass while Jeno pressed his to your front, sending you into a spiral. You were forcefully sandwiched between your roommates, the air getting thick around you as people began to stare at the three of you.

"Guys people are starting to stare," you say, looking down to avoid eye contact with Jeno.

"And? They're just waiting for us to fuck you right in the middle of this floor. And I bet you're waiting for it too," Jaemin says in your ear, chuckling when you arched your ass on him. For a second it felt like no one was in the room. The music muffled in your ears, the faint feeling of jaemin's lips on your neck and Jeno's lips grazing against your lighting a fire in your chest.

"Stop teasing," you exhale.

"Do you want it as much as we want it," Jeno questioned, biting his lip as he stared at yours.

"Yes."

A wicked smile you couldn't see spread on Jaemin's face hearing your words. "This is gonna be a long night then."

The Uber ride consisted of nothing but kissing and touching. You were squeezed between the two men, their hands all over your body not giving a second to breathe. You find yourself kissing both of them at the same time, one or the other pulling you away when they feel they've been left out.

Jaemin's soft touch contrasted how strong his kisses were, his hand resting gently on the back of your neck as he kissed you. He wanted you to feel how much he wanted you, not just know. Jaemin didn't hide how horny he was for you due to the number of drinks he consumed at the party. He palmed himself, his cock straining against the pants of the costume.

Beside you, Jeno kissed neck, holding your waist tight he was pressed against you, sandwiching your body between the both of them. The scene was something straight out of a movie. The three of you are unable to keep your hands to yourselves as your driver tries his best to not watch in the front of the car.

You were in a complete daze, Jeno grabbing your chin gently, turning you to him. You moaned on his lips softly, turning your body to him. Jeno's hands went from your waist to your chest, gripping your breast generously. Jaemin kissed your neck down to your shoulder, his big strong hands making their way between your legs. You gasped softly feeling his thumbs rub your inner thighs dangerously close to your soaking heat.

"Fuck," you whispered, brows furrowing as you felt his thumb graze your clothed clit.

"It would only take me a second to rip this shit fabric off you," he whispered low enough so the driver couldn't hear. "Is that what you want?"

You nodded, gulping as Jeno's hands rubbed up your thighs. "Be patient, pretty. We're almost home," Jeno whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth. You wish you could calm down, but the way jeno's hands sooth you as Jaemin keeps rubbing his thumb dangerously close to your clit makes you feel insane.

You kissed Jeno, hand on his neck as he wanted into his mouth. Jaemin began stroking his thumb softly against your clit, his lips on the back of your neck. Jeno bit your lip softly, kissing you once more as you began to quietly moan. Your hips moved on their own, slightly beginning to grind on his thumb.

"You're such a cute whore, putting on a show for everyone," Jaemin whispered.

"Are you gonna punish me officer?"

Your lips curled into a smile hearing Jaemin's soft laughter. You thought he would be put off by the sentence but instead he whispered something else that made your thoughts run.

"The costume came with handcuffs. You wanna put them to use?"

You nodded, heart beating fast in your chest. Jeno took your chin between his fingers, kissing you softly, his tongue making its way into your mouth. Jeno wrapped his hand around your neck, squeezing it lightly making you moan softly into his mouth.

"U-uh, w-we arrived at your location," said the driver, who was silent the whole ride.

Jeno planted one more kiss on your lips softly, before turning to speak. "Thanks for the ride." The three of you got out of the car, Jeno stopping before walking to the entrance of your shared apartment.

"Mark is your name right?"

"Uh-huh," the driver said, nodding awkwardly.

"Thanks for the ride Mark, I'll give you a hefty tip."

The driver nodded and drove off, the deep red on his cheeks completely noticeable. Jeno walked back to you and Jaemin, who were already eating each other's faces in front of the door. "You two look like 2 drunk sorority girls," he laughed, pulling you away from the other male.

"Well, I'm trying to fuck like a drunk sorority girl so let's go inside," you said, closing your eyes as Jeno kissed your neck. The male chuckled and pulled you into the building followed by Jaemin. The elevator ride up was just as eventful as the car ride, hands and mouths all over you. The ding of the elevator snapped you out of whatever trance they had you in, but not them. They pulled you down the hall and to the door of your apartment, Jaemin's hand fumbling as he put the code into the door.

In the blink of an eye, the three of you were inside and the door was shut. Both of their hands were all over your body, not even giving you a chance to breathe. Jaemin grabbed your face, kissing you roughly. "Fuck I've been waiting for this all night," he mumbled.

"C-can we get to my bedroom at least," you said.

The both of them chuckled at your sudden flustered expression, following you to your room. Once again they didn't even give you time to breathe before they were all over your body. Jaemin pulled you to him, lips on yours as his hands gripped your waist. His hands moved to your tiny shorts, unbuttoning and unzipping the fabric. You kicked your heels off, height shifting but still keeping your lips on his. That's when you feel Jeno come up behind you, pressing himself on your body as he groped your breast from behind, kissing your neck softly.

Jaemin tugs your shorts down letting the fabric fall to the floor. You step out of the shorts, moaning softly when you feel Jeno's hand slip between your legs, cupping your clothed heat.

"Bet you've been thinking about this all night," he whispered in your ear.

You nodded, brows furrowing as Jaemin begins to kiss your neck. "Just fuck me already," you whined softly.

"You're desperate aren't you," Jaemin mumbled, chuckling as he undid the buttons of your body suit. The male pulled the fabric up your body, his fingertips grazing your bare skin lighting a fire in your belly. Jeno wasted no time getting his hand back between your legs, finding that you were wearing nothing but a thong with your tights.

"Jesus, you really were just trying to get fucked tonight weren't you." You closed your eyes, letting your head fall on Jaemin's shoulder taking in the feeling of Jeno rubbing your clothed clit. He smirked to himself watching you push onto his hand as he kept going. "What do you want right now, hm?"

"Anything," you said breathlessly. "Please.."

"Isn't that cute," Jaemin mumbled, chuckling softly. "But are you gonna be a good girl for the rest of the night?"

You groaned softly, rolling your eyes. "Please just fuck me," you whined.

"You didn't answer his question," Jeno chimed, fingers playing with your fishnets.

You wanted to say something else, but you realized they had the upper hand at the moment. You needed to have sex badly, and was so desperate to get something out of someone. And as much as it pained you to not pick a fight with them m, you obliged not just for your own sanity, but also because the thought of them telling you what to do was fucking hot.

"I'll be a good girl," you said reluctantly.

"Good," Jaemin smirked. "Get on your knees."

Both of their eyes never left you as you dropped to the ground slowly. Their bodies towered over you in the most degrading way and you loved it. You move your hands towards Jaemin's belt, undoing it all while staring up at him. His eyes were glued on you, along with Jeno's, who was undoing his belt and unzipping his pants. You tugged his pants down, allowing his hard on to spring free from the confines of the fabric.

"Shit," you whispered to yourself, staring at the size of him.

You look to your left to see Jeno was just a big, a gulp moving down your throat.

"What? You're scared," Jaemin mocked.

"Don't tell me you're a quitter Y/N," Jeno taunts, "we barely got started."

"Shut up," you grumbled. Your face grew hot, breath a little shallow as you wrapped your hand around the base of Jeno's cock, stroking it slowly as you turned to Jaemin's. Jaemin's heavily lidded eyes lingered on you, watching you as you licked the tip of his cock, staring at him with those big eyes he loved so much.

You wrapped your mouth around his head, sucking and bobbing your head slowly. The way he looked at you lit a fire in you, the fire traveling to your stomach and even lower, making you press your legs together. You lifted your mouth off him, wrapping your hand around his shaft as you turned to Jeno.

You licked up the base of his cock all the way to his tip, making the man scrunch his brows. He bit his lip, watching you close your eyes as you started to suck him off with a bit more vigor, hand moving on Jaemin at the same pace. Everything about this looked like it jumped straight out of a porno. You're still in half of your costume, Jaemin and Jeno dressed like cops with their pants to their ankles, both their cocks in your mouth.

"Good girl, keep going just like that," Jeno mumbled, hand stroking the back of your head.

The praise went right to your head and your cunt making you squeeze your legs tight. The way Jeno looked at you made you feel like he was about to eat you alive, and that's all you wanted. You pulled off of him, breathing heavily trying to catch your breath. Your hand stroked him fast as you turned to Jaemin, giving his neglected cock your attention.

You stuck your tongue out, tapping the tip on the wet muscle in the most teasing way possible. Jaemin watched you in awe as you kissed his tip softly, opening your mouth wide to take him. Jaemin licked his lips, enjoying watching you.

"Take all of it."

And you did, sinking lower and lower until all you could do was splutter around him, gagging as he hit the back of your throat. Jaemin took the back of your head, pushing you until your nose touched his skin. Eyes screwed shut, trying to be the best girl you possibly could below both of these men making you go crazy.

"Good girl," Jaemin cooed. "Take it like the slut you are."

Jaemin took his hand off your head, allowing you to rise from him. You coughed, heaving as you tried to get oxygen in your lungs but even that couldn't stop you from spitting on his cock and taking him in your mouth again. You bobbed your head, hand pumping Jeno at the same pace you had no idea how you looked but it couldn't have been anything short from a mess.

However, to the men standing above you, you looked like a wet dream. On your knees, hands on both of them, tears straining your face, drool falling from your pretty lips.

"Fuck, just look at her," Jeno grunted, thrusting into your hand slowly as you stroked him. You stopped bobbing your head, pulling his cock out your mouth and turned back to Jeno. They were both so close and you could tell. You could feel it in the way they were talking, breathing, thrusting in your mouth or hands. Jeno raked his hand through his hair, throwing his head back at the feeling of you deepthroating him, a loud groan leaving his lips.

"I'm so fucking close," Jeno moaned, the sound of his voice making you weak.

"C'mon baby, make us cum." Jaemin breathing heavily along with the male across from him, watching you with focused eyes as you removed Jeno from your mouth, not just stroking them in your hands quickly.

Looking up at them, your doe eyes shifted rapidly between them, wanting them to cum badly. "Please," you spoke with a breathy moan, voice raspy. "Cum on my fucking face."

Your voice sent them both over the edge, the pressure building up in both of them resulting in your cum landing all over your face. You stuck your tongue out, catching both of their seed swallowing and sticking it out again to show them.

"Good girl," Jaemin praised. "such a good girl. Stand up for me pretty."

You did as you were told, letting go of their cocks as you rose to your feet, knees sore from being on them too long. Jaemin pulled you to him, lips crashing on yours. Behind you, you felt Jeno's hand snake underneath you, popping the buttons of the body suit. You moaned softly, feeling his hands pull the fabric up your stomach. He traced his fingers on your ass, giving you neck slow wet kisses.

You pulled away from Jaemin, reaching back for Jeno as you felt his fingers graze your inner thighs once more.

"I let me taste you," he said, ensuing an enthusiastic nod from you. Jeno took you, sitting you on the edge of your bed followed by him sinking to his knees right in front of you. You thought about this happening more times than you'd like to admit. But now here he is, spreading your legs wide for him, eyes unable to look away from your soaked thong and slick thighs. You were a mess and don't even know.

"Fuck," Jaemin breathed. "You like being on your knees that much?" Jaemin sat next to you, stroking his semi soft cock as he watched Jeno tease you.

Jeno kissed your inner thighs, tongue grinding along your skin licking your arousal. His eyes never left yours. They pierced into yours as if they could read every thought you had at the moment. A shiver ran through your spine as you circled his tongue on your clothes clit, hand reaching up and pulling the thong against the sensitive bud.

"Perfect little pussy just for me," he mumbled to himself, pushing the fabric aside.

"God we should've done this a long time ago," Jaemin mumbled.

Jeno gave you clit one lick, making your body shudder, a sigh falling from your lips. He did it again, this time harder and longer. Jeno wrapped his arms around the underside of your legs, placing soft kisses on your cunt. Jaemin turned your head to him, locking lips with you as Jeno began to eat you out with vigorous tongue moving all over.

Jaemin kissed you deeper, tongue exploring your mouth as his hand kept pumping his cock. Jaemin pulled away, smirking to himself as he looked at your cum covered face. "So fucking pretty," he mumbled, kissing the corner of your mouth.

Your moans grew, panting heavily as Jeno sucked your clit, flicking his tongue on the bud. Looking down at him, you couldn't help but get even more turned on. His mouth was covered in your slick, tongue moving inside you like crazy. Your hips began to move on its own, grinding on his face. You always loved his nose, especially right now. His nose continued to stimulate the swollen bud as he licked at your entrance.

"Fuck Jeno, oh my God," you whimpered, pleasure amplified by Jaemin's lips on your neck.

"Is this pretty pussy gonna cum for me," he mumbled, flicking his tongue on your clit fast. Jeno removed his arm from around your leg, hand immediately making its way in-between your legs. In the blink of an eye, his fingers were inside you, fingering you hard and fast.

"Jeno, fuck just like that," you whimpered, body starting to shake from the intense pleasure. He never took his eyes off you, lips wrapping around your clit once again, sucking it hard.

"F-fuck, you're gonna make me cum." You ran your hand through his hair, gripping it tight as you pulled his face closer to your body. Just as you felt yourself about to cum, Jaemin took your chin, kissing you messily. You moaned loudly into the other male's mouth, sucking his tongue as you whined, feeling yourself cum around Jeno's fingers.

You sat there panting as Jaemin cupped your face, trying to catch your breath and whatever piece of mind was still there as Jeno moved his fingers from inside you.

"You did so good Y/N," Jeno praised, standing up between your legs. "Open your mouth for me."

You did, dropping your jaw on command. No man has ever been able to dominate you in the way that these two have, but you love it. You were fuzzy, completely fucked out. You just wanted to be a good girl for them. Jeno looked down at you, taking in the absolute mess that you were and reveled in it. The amount of times he's jerked off to this couldn't compare to being here at the moment. You were a tease and knew it. He couldn't wait to wreck you.

Jaemin watched Jeno grab your jaw and spit in your mouth, sticking his fingers coated in your cum down your throat right after. Almost like you've done this a thousand times more, you sucked his fingers, staring up at him with begging eyes.

"Fuck if I knew you were like this I would've fucked you a long time ago," Jaemin mumbled. You pulled off his fingers, nothing but a string of saliva connecting your bodies till it broke.

"I need both of you inside me," you said, face hot at the thought.

"At the same time," Jaemin questioned. Both of the men glanced at each other, silently communicating.

You nodded, gulping as you stared at them with desperate eyes. "Please.."

Jeno sighed, laughing softly to your begging. He began to unbutton his shirt, the sight of his fingers moving setting your body on fire. "God, I love it when you beg."

You turned your head, Jaemin already out of his shirt. He removed his shoes, kicking his pants and boxers off his ankles. His hands then tugged on your bodysuit taking the sheer fabric off of you as lifted your arms. Then went your bra, Jaemin sliding it off your shoulders kissing the back of your neck softly. He took his shirt, wiping the cum that covered your face off, making you sigh in relief.

"Face down ass up," Jaemin said, tone more assertive than before.

You did as you were told, arching your ass in the air watching them watch you. Their eyes burned holes in your skin, smiles taunting you as you let them feel up your body.

"Where's your lube," Jeno questioned, raising a brow.

"Third drawer."

But before Jeno even pulled it out, Jaemin had already decided he was ready. You sighed softly, feeling his soft lips on the plush of your ass, his hands kneading your body like a stress ball. Jaemin never realized how unintentionally rough he was, how strong he was and it annoyed you except for this time. Your already sensitive cunt grew even more aroused as he squeezed harder. Jaemin smacked your ass hard, making your body jump.

"Has anyone ever eaten your ass before," he asked, his voice sounding darling from behind you.

Your face goes hot, gulping as you shake your head "no."

"There's a first time for everything."

The sensation that went through your body when his tongue touched your asshole was unexpected. Maybe you were simply too horny to function, but it actually felt good. Jaemin licked your backend again, this time starting from your pussy. Unintentionally, you pushed against his face more earning a hard smack on your ass once again.

"Fuck," you whispered, brows scrunched together. His tongue swirled around the tight muscle, eliciting yet another whine from your lips. Jeno stroked his cock, watching the both of you, precum already dripping. Jaemin was as hard as a brick, precum leaking down his tip as buried his face in your body. "J-Jaemin, this feels so good."

"Yeah?" He chuckled darkly, staring at you like you were his prey. He felt your body tremble in his hands when you felt his spit slide down your ass without warning. Jaemin rubbed the pad of his thumb on your puckered hole as he reached over to grab the lube. With one hand he opened it, squeezing its contents on your body. "You sure you want this," he asked, lids heavy with desire.

"Y-yes."

Jaemin took his finger, rubbing the lube a bit more before you gasped softly, feeling his finger move past the tight muscle. The deeper and deeper he pushed his finger, the harder your hands gripped the cover of your bed. The feeling was new, completely foreign and it would definitely take time before you got used to it. Your eyes were screw shut, the discomfort of him thrusting his finger in and out of you making your back hunch and whine tiredly.

"I know it feels strange but you'll start feeling good, I promise," he said softly.

And he was right, because after some time, that fire in your belly started to come back making you pant softly against your pillow. Your body becomes more relaxed, your brain adjusting the prior discomfort to pleasure. But you wanted more, needed more.

"A-add another finger," you mumbled, making Jeno bite his lip as he watched you.

Jaemin smirked, doing as you said. You gave him the reaction he expected. He loved your pretty sounds so much they gave him goosebumps. You were right around his fingers, the pressure making his cock leak. He popped the cap of the lube open, adding more.

"You're doing so well baby. Does it feel good," he said, voice sultry and sweet.

"Mhm." You could barely form real sentences, your brain too fogged in pleasure. You found yourself arching into his fingers more and more as he fingered you slowly. Jaemin's other hand massages your ass, adding more to the pleasure swimming all over your body. The room was silent with sounds of heavy breathing and the sound of Jaemin's fingers slipping in and out of you. That was until he slipped another finger in you without warning, making you whine loudly.

"F-fuck, it's too much," you whined.

"If you can't take three fingers, you can't take my cock," he said smoothly. "Don't tell me you're quitting Y/N."

"N-no," you managed to get out.

"Good," he mumbled. "Do you think you can take Jeno and my fingers at the same time?"

You nodded, gulping hard at the image you created in your head. "Yeah," you answered breathlessly. You lifted your body weakly, letting out a tiny whine as Jaemin pulled out his fingers. Jeno climbed underneath you, his head plopping down on your pink pillow. His hands ran up and down your sides, trying to soothe your sensitive body.

"God you're so pretty," he mumbled, staring at you from below. You hadn't seen yourself since you got out of the car, but you could only assume he was lying. Your lipstick was probably smudged everywhere, mascara running along your cheeks. You were anything but pretty, but his words still made you blush. "I would put a condom on, but I have no idea where you keep those."

"I don't have any," you said blankly, just now realizing your lack of protection. "But… I don't mind. As long as it's okay with you guys."

Jeno didn't say a word, only giving you a look like he's been dreaming of this moment. He thought about it all the time, fucking you nice and raw. The thought of having your tight cunt around him was about to make him spiral. Jeno took his cock, rubbing the tip along your slit slowly.

He grinned, watching your brows knit at the feeling. "You want me to fill you up real bad don't you," he taunted, rubbing your clit softly.

"Yes, I want you to stretch me. Please," you whined, begging for him with a hot face. You let out a breathy moan, feeling his tip slowly enter you. Jeno let your hips do the rest of the work, groaning when you fully sat on his cock. "Jeno, you're so big," you moaned, mindlessly beginning to grind on him. Your hands curled on his chest, the stretch he was giving you overstimulating your senses but you couldn't help yourself.

Suddenly, you felt two strong hands grab your hips and still them. "You're so eager you can't even wait," Jaemin said with a small laugh. He kneeled behind you, forcefully pushing your body down against Jeno, making you arch your back. That's when Jeno wrapped his arms around you keeping you still as Jaemin added more lube. You shivered feeling the cold substance on your skin, hissing as his fingers filled your asshole once again.

Your body is on fire, Jeno filling your pussy while Jaemin plays with your ass. The vulnerability of the position, the way both of their eyes burned into you as you laid there weak and unable to have a single coherent thought only turned you on even more. Jeamin pumped his fingers in you while Jeno thrusted in you slowly, the discomfort beginning to melt away as time passed. His dick was painfully hard, wanting to do nothing but ravage your body.

"You think you're ready," he said, chuckling when seeing your fucked out expression.

"Y-yes, fuck me please."

Jaemin moved closer to you, pulling his fingers out at you smoothly. Picking up the lube, he added a generous amount. You bite your lip hard looking, Jeno unwrapping his arms from around you allows you to look over your shoulder. Jaemin pressed the head of his cock against your hole, his eyes droopy in lust. Jaemin pushed the head of his cock into you, the stretch making you screw your eyes shut, nails digging into Jeno's chest.

"I love first timers," Jaemin groaned. His brows furrowed deep, gripping your hips. Very slowly, he fills you, the tightness making the three of you moan. You were in a daze, body gone completely limp and weak. You never felt so full in your life and you loved every second of it. The only thing you could do was take deep breaths, as Jaemin bottomed out inside of you. Tears pricked the edges of your eyes as you let your face fall into the crook of Jeno's neck.

"You're doing so good baby," Jeno whispered in your ear, his hands traveling to your ass, squeezing your body hard.

The action made you clench, giving both men a chill up their spines. "Fuck," you whimpered softly. "So full..t-too much.."

"Shh baby you can do it," he moaned softly, hips starting to rock into yours slowly. "Take it Y/N. Be a good girl and take it."

With every rock of his hips, it caused your body to move also, adding a slight bounce on Jeno's cock. You couldn't even compute the feeling flowing through your body. All you could do was lay there weak as they filled every part of you, drooling and moaning uncontrollably. Jeno turned your head to him, kissing you lazily as he began to thrust in and out of you slowly along with Jaemin.

Your breathing quickened, hands moving from his chest to his shoulders. "Oh my God," you whimpered tearfully. Your body was completely overstimulated, overwhelmed with lust.

"Poor baby, she's crying," Jeno said, chuckling darkly.

"Wanted both of us at the same time, but can barely handle it." Jeamin spread your cheeks further watching both his and Jeno's dick move in and out of you. "So fucking pretty and tight for me. You've been waiting for this haven't you."

Absent-mindedly, you nod, the only thing in your brain is pleasing them.

"Good girl," Jaemin said in a slight whisper. "Every time you cum from now on, I want it to be from my cock in your ass. Understand?"

"Y-yes," you said in a small groan.

"Good girl." A hard smack landed on your ass check, the pain quickly turning into pleasure. Jeno was beginning to get impatient, the feeling of Jaemin practically rubbing right against him, the tight and snug fit of the both of you quickly about to make him cum.

"Faster," you whine. "B-both of you, please." Both men obliged your pleading, watching you throw your head back, eyes rolling back while you moaned in controllably. Your hips pushed against the both of them, desperate for them to be seeing inside you.

"Such a fucking cock slut," Jeno said through gritted teeth, his hands trailing down your arched back. "You like having two dicks in you don't you?"

"Y-yes," you said, gasping, feeling a pair of fingers on your neglected clit. Looking at your bodies, you see Jeno's fingers rubbing it fast. You were nowhere near cumming, but now you felt it. You felt the pit in your stomach grow. "I'm gonna cum," you moaned, tears threatening to escape again.

"Cum on my cock." Jeno's voice sent a shockwave through you, your orgasm coming to you almost violently, body shaking, nails digging into his shoulders as you held onto him. Your pussy clenched tight around him, making you clench just as tight around Jaemin, who was pressing his fingers into your sides. For the first time in a long time, you came so hard you saw starts and it felt real fucking good.

"Fuck, you take me so well," Jeno groaned. He lost all self control after feeling you cum around him, thrust started to get fast. Jaemin matched his speed, making your already weak body slump over on the man below you. Your face was buried in his neck once again, whimpers and whines escaping.

Jaemin pounded into you as Jeno went deeper, every single movement making you see stars, your brain going fuzzy with pleasure.

Jaemin watched you sit up as best as you could, looking back watching both of them stuffing you like a doll. He took one glance at your wet face, hands gripping hips hard when the sight made his mind reel. That's when he felt himself coming closer and closer to his orgasm. Everything stimulated him quickly, the way you felt to the way you looked on top of Jeno, he was going to cum quickly.

"Fuck I'm so close," he groaned. "You want me to cum in your ass?"

"Yes, yes cum in me," you moaned weakly.

With a few more thrust, you felt Jaemin cum, his loud breathy moans filling your ears. Jaemin kept thrusting, riding out the high until he couldn't take it anymore. Slowly he pulled out of you, breathing heavily as he stared at your gaping asshole, cum slowly leaking out.

In an instant, you wanted him back inside you, missing the feeling of being full, but Jeno didn't let you miss it for too long. The man took your hips in his rough hands, holding your body up as he fucked up into you.

"J-jeno, fuck, right there," you sobbed, throwing your head back. You mustered up enough energy to bounce along with his thrust, your orgasm finally approaching for the third time that night. You squeezed around him tight, making the man moan loudly."Cum in me," you whined, holding onto his shoulders. "Fill me up."

His hands slid from your hips to your ass, squeezing so hard it was going to leave a bruise. "You like this? You like being fucked like a whore?"

"Mhm," you nodded. Desperate to reach your climax you start bouncing on him as he pounds into you. Soon enough you begin to feel your stomach tighten, on the brink of cumming. "Fuck, I-im cumming."

You came hard, body shivering on top of the male underneath you. Soon Jeno came with a loud moan, the warm liquid making your brows furrow. The three of you were exhausted, bodies completely spent– especially yours. Jeno was still inside you when you plopped down on his body, heart beating and trying to catch your breath even though you had minimal movement.

"Hey you alright," Jaemin said, poking at your back.

You didn't respond, your brain still fried from the high you just got. You laid on Jeno silently, tuning everything out.

"I think we broke her," Jeno jokes. His hands caress your waist, taking in the breaths fanning his neck. Jeno thrusted into you, earning a breathy moan.

"Too sensitive," you managed to say.

Jeno chuckled softly, kissing your cheek tenderly. "You did a good job Y/N. God you're so pretty when you cum."

"She looks like she's about to pass out," Jaemin commented, gazing at your expression.

He was right you were exhausted, horny, and one hundred percent not ready for the pain you were going to have in the morning. You gave Jeno a small whine when he pulled out of you, laying you next to him on the bed. You felt him run his hand on your side, looking at him with begging eyes as he rubbed your waist.

"You can't look at me like that and not say what you want," he mumbled, licking his lips.

"Kiss me," you said quietly, slightly pouting.

Jeno gave you a small smile, kissing you softly like you asked. "Let's get you cleaned up okay?"

Jeno stood up followed by Jaemin. Jaemin tugged your limp body to the corner of the bed, putting his arms under you to lift you up. You wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him close to your body.

"So fucking cute," he mumbled. "Wanna watch a movie later?"

You shook your head, eyes getting heavy as he carried you to the bathroom. "I just wanna take a bath and sleep."

"Okay we can work with that," Jeno agreed.

You laughed to yourself in your drowsy state, biting your lip softly. "This has officially been the best Halloween ever."

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starcurtain · 15 days

Text

Ratiorine Fics I Want to Read

1) Modern AU: When Veritas Ratio discovers a beautiful businessman poised to jump from the roof of his apartment building, he does something he's never done half as seriously before: makes a bet. One month--in just one month, he will find this "Aventurine" a reason to keep living. The terms: 30 days, anything goes, whatever it takes to make some kind of meaning out of a miserable existence. If Ratio loses, a brilliant-eyed gambler will disappear from the world forever. If Aventurine loses... well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. (Of course, neither of them anticipated that Ratio would end up becoming Aventurine's reason to live--but there's something to be said for non-zero-sum games.)

2) "I'm real sorry to bother you, mister, but I think I'm lost?" Aventurine is pretty sure he's dreaming. Pretty sure he's been pulled back to the hellscape known as Penacony. Pretty sure the Lady Emanator might need to come back and take another swing at him, to burn out the last hold of the Harmony for real this time. Because those are the only logical explanations for why Aventurine is currently locking eyes with his own younger self, standing very confused in the middle of his trussed up Pier Point condo, far from the Family's shadow. (Or: That one where a blessing from Gaiathra temporarily sends the young Kakavasha out of harm's way--straight into the care of his future self. Aventurine isn't the ideal person to care for a child, but hells if he's going to let his younger self experience anything less than the safest and most wonderful weeks of his short, miserable life. The only real problem is, well, how is he possibly going to explain this to Ratio?)

3) A super soft, small fic of Ratio reflecting on all the ways his life has changed since Aventurine came into it--there's noise in his apartment now, and a photo on his desk in the office; there's troublesome snacks to pet sit and someone keeps sneaking inappropriate jokes into his lecture transcripts. There's a sounding board to test his lesson topics on, and a peacock on his cellphone lock screen because he's developed a newfound fondness for the color. There's a go-between nowadays when the ravenous investors come sniffing after the results of his research, and unlabeled packages containing exotic bath salts from star systems even Ratio has never heard of... But most beloved of all: the sense of soundness and symmetry, of something unexpected settling perfectly into his hold, at last.

4) Bodyswap AU: Ratio and Aventurine end up on a mission that goes wrong in every sense of the word (aeons, it's always aeons). They're separated with probably half the known universe between them, stranded on unrecorded planets without credits or technology, and--most bizarrely have all--have definitely swapped bodies. Cool. Cool. What the fuck. Aventurine is honestly tempted to say he might be coming out ahead in this whole drama--he's ripped and tall now--until he discovers that in Ratio's body, he doesn't have his luck. Meanwhile, Ratio is discovering just how much harder life is for Signonians, and coming to truly appreciate how strong of a person Aventurine really is. Somehow, they've got to make it back from half way across the universe, accomplish their mission, and get their own bodies back. Please?

5) A collection of complaint logs very important internal IPC records:

Complaints received on the dangerous behavior of new Stoneheart "Aventurine of Stratagems"

Complaints received on the hostile work environment created by Intelligentsia Guild Consultant Dr. Veritas Ratio

Request for transfer

Proposal (Joking) to assign Stoneheart Aventurine to joint mission with Intelligentsia Guild Consultant Dr. V. R.

Request for transfer

Proposal (No Longer Joking) to assign Stoneheart Aventurine to joint mission with IG Consultant Dr. V. R.

Joint Mission Report, Status: Complete, three days before projected date, Casualties: 0, Complaints: 0

Note from Clerk #157B to Clerk #162S, on digital post-it: "Are you seeing this shit?"

Mission Report, Status: Complete, two days behind schedule, Complaints: 1 - "Please don't subject me to the drivel of untrained imbeciles again. If you're going to send someone from outside the Technology Department, at least provide a competent strategist. The same one from last time, preferably."

Mission Report, Status: Complete, Casualties: 1, Complaints: 1 - "Just send Ratio next time, okay?"

Joint Mission Report, Status: Complete

Complaint received on the questionable conduct of Stoneheart Aventurine: "Why did my boss send me to buy bath bombs? Who are these for?"

Joint Mission Report, Status: Complete

Complaint received on the biased behavior of IG Consultant Dr. V. R.: "Why does boss get called 'dear gambler' while the rest of us are 'fool'?"

Penacony Joint Mission Report, Status: Complete

Notice of Hiatus from Intelligentsia Guild Activities and Sabbatical from Lecturing, Reason Given: None

Request for Paid Leave, to: Diamond, cc: Jade, bcc: Topaz, Reason Given: Elopement 💖

6) Maybe it's not a sensitive thing to ask. Maybe some stories are better left in the past. But Veritas Ratio has never been able to curb his desire to know--nor his desire to right the wrongs the world with that knowledge. Laid bare, pale against the lip of the tub, with nothing but the rippling of the bathwater to accompany him, Aventurine tells the story of each of his scars. Some marks cannot be washed away. But some--with time, with touch--can heal.

#honkai star rail #dr. ratio #aventurine #ratiorine #aventio #dr. ratio x aventurine #golden ratio #fanfic ideas #don't have time to write them #but sure do want to read them

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unpredictable-probabilities · 4 months

Text

Tomorrows Over Centuries || Chapter 3: A Tale of Our Own

Summary:

Hob tours Morpheus around the bookfair, and they spend their time browsing stories together and talking about which ones they're particularly fond of.

Later on, it appears that people who go to bookfairs are drawn to the Prince of Stories, and Hob's mind recalls the night when a certain playwright caught Morpheus' attention. But unlike in 1589, Hob now has an idea about what he can do to get that attention back...

Word Count: 5,591

Rating: Explicit

Author's Note:

If you want to skip the explicit scene, stop reading at "Morpheus’ eyes turned into galaxies" and continue again at "Hob vaguely felt a shimmer of magic".

(more notes at the end)

———

Dream had been aware of the existence of bookfairs, in theory. He had never been to one. Now, as he stood in the middle of it breathing in the scent of books, seeing the daydreams of aspiring writers and avid readers, he decided that it was the type of event he would like to frequent.

“There you are.”

Dream recognized the voice behind him before he even turned to look. He smiled. Something he had found himself doing quite a lot recently.

“Here I am,” he told Hob as he faced him. Dream remembered Hob's remark yesterday about how their dean often wanted them to dress handsomely in school events, and Hob certainly followed that.

“I knew I would find you here.” The corners of Hob's eyes crinkled as he smiled.

“In the fiction section?”

“The stories section. Are we standing in the middle of your creations, Your Highness?” Hob asked playfully as he looked around at the shelves.

Dream turned to Hob curiously; his friend had never called him by such a moniker before.

Hob grinned at him. “Did a little research on your name last night when I got home. I'm in the presence of the Prince of Stories, correct?”

“A little research?”

“Alright, a lot of research,” Hob admitted. “I just found out your name after more than 600 years, can you blame me for wanting to know more?”

Dream would normally disagree with the prospect of someone going to lengths to find out information about him, but as always Hob was the exception. “There would be plenty of time to get to know each other more deeply from now on.”

Hob's daydreams tugged at the corner of his mind, calling for his attention. Dream caught a glimpse of them having breakfast together, walking along the university grounds, falling asleep on the couch in front of the television.

He cleared his throat—a gesture he learned that humans do to interrupt another's train of thought. “Hob, you should know that when you think of me while we are so near each other, I can see your thoughts even if I do not intend to.”

Hob blinked in realization and chuckled. “Right. Well, I don't hear you complaining.”

Dream's lips curved into a teasing smile at Hob's playful tone. “There is no reason to; I fully intend to fulfill all of your daydreams. And then some.”

Hob's cheeks colored a shade of red, and he winked as he said, “I'll hold you to that.”

Dream chuckled, to his own surprise. Hob, however, looked pleased at the noise he had made.

He felt his face warm and opted to change the subject. “What else did you wish to know about me?” he inquired, having decided that he would no longer avoid Hob's attempts to know him better.

“Oh, um…” Hob seemed caught off-guard. “These books, are any of them inspired by you in particular? Did you have a direct influence on them?”

Dream tilted his head ever so slightly. “That is what you wish to know?” He had been prepared for more personal questions, aware as he was that Hob's curiosity knew no bounds.

Hob nodded, a fond smile on his face. “I wanna know what stories you like to write. Come on,” he took Dream’s hand and pulled him to the nearest bookshelf.

Dream glanced down at their intertwined fingers. In centuries past, his friend—though they were much more than that now—would never have attempted such a gesture so casually. A pleasant warmth bloomed within him at the knowledge that Hob felt comfortable enough in their new relationship as to lace their hands together in public.

“Oh, this one has your name on it,” Hob stopped in front of a shelf where a book called The Dreamcatcher Battalion was displayed.

“Ah, yes.” Dream recognized the title immediately. The illustration on the cover featured a group of four children on a flying chariot against the backdrop of a night sky; two of them wore an expression of adventurous determination, while the other two were grinning excitedly. “The author of this one grew up experiencing night terrors, and so she wrote a book about children who have the power to go into other people’s dreams and help them through their nightmares.”

Hob looked mildly surprised before smiling. “And I suppose you inspired that idea by helping her through her own night terrors?”

“I simply kept watch to make sure that the nightmares did not go far beyond their purpose; an overabundance of fear could break the mind rather than help it learn. She must have felt my presence in some way, and it led her to express the same feeling of security through these magical children. She has learned well.”

Hob turned to the book cover with a thoughtful expression. “Does it ever feel that way for you, like it’s an adventure?”

“It is my function; it was never meant to be something for me to detest nor take pleasure in.”

Hob looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Okay… But how do you feel about it? Right now?”

Dream blinked and turned his gaze to the book once more, looking at the illustrated faces of the characters who have sworn to protect dreamers from the worst of their fears. He felt a twinge of wistfulness at the knowledge that those children had each other’s company at every dream they visit, every nightmare they tame. Never had they had to make the nightly journey alone.

Then a certain librarian’s face appeared in his memory; the one who had watched over his realm even through his unexplained absence of more than a century. Lucienne was first to greet him upon his return, and had remained unwaveringly loyal through his changes in temperament.

And there was Matthew, his raven who had gone with him to Hell despite only being acquainted with him for a few hours at most. His companion who, instead of escaping to save himself, chose to stay and help Dream win the battle against the Morningstar.

“I… feel that I do like my work. Now. Seeing humans bring to life the things they dream of… It is inspiring. Whether the source is a nightmare they learned from or an idea that they dearly wanted to share with the world, I am honored to have been able to help in my own way.”

Hob was staring at him with an expression that he could only describe as fondness, though Dream wasn't certain he understood why Hob would look at him so. “It is wonderfully brilliant, isn't it? I'm glad I took the time to learn my letters at that printing business ages ago. Otherwise I might have missed out on all of this,” he gestured at the books surrounding them. “D’you see any favourites?”

Dream turned his gaze to the bookshelf at the far wall and sensed a particular story. “It would be difficult to pick a singular favourite, but there is one that had caught my attention at the time the idea was born.” He led Hob over to the shelf, silently elated by the fact that walking hand-in-hand with Hob was something that he could initiate now.

They stopped in front of a novel with an illustrated cover of two princes on either side of a princess, showing her various gifts.

“The Suitors’ Quest,” Hob read the title. “Seems like one of those classic fairytale tropes, though for it to have caught your attention I'm guessing there's something more to it?”

Dream nodded. “The story begins with the princes competing for the hand of the fair princess, aye. Then the lady gets taken hostage by the enemy kingdom, and the two rivals must work together to rescue her. They successfully do so, but along the way, they had discovered that who they truly loved was each other, and so neither desired the princess’ hand any longer.”

Hob's eyes had widened in surprise. “And… what, they get together by the end?”

“And live happily ever after,” Dream felt his lips turn up in a smile that Hob readily returned.

“Was it the unorthodox aspect that caught your attention?”

Dream paused for a moment before answering. “That book was published not too long after I had spurned you in 1889. I had thought perhaps… if I had been nearly as brave as those princes in the story, I might have saved the both of us a lot of pain.”

Hob stared at him and ran his thumb soothingly across the back of Dream's hand. “You're here now, love,” he said gently. “And I'm no prince, but you've got about a hundred titles so maybe that makes up for it?”

Dream returned Hob's playful gaze. “There is nothing to make up for. Though perhaps some of my titles might surprise you.” He reached over to the next shelf and picked up a copy of Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats.

Hob raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I am also what humans would call the King of Cats, and I felt the author's fondness of them in every poem of this collection.”

Hob looked at him with eyes wide with disbelief. “Is… Is that true, or is this your idea of a prank?”

Dream let his form flicker momentarily to that of the King of Cats; a feline with thick black fur and a long tail, as tall as Hob while seated on its hind legs.

It lasted for barely a second before he was back to his human form once more, but Hob's jaw had hinged open as he gaped at Dream.

“God's teeth…” he muttered.

Dream suddenly felt his shoulders tense. “Does it bother you?” he had not considered how Hob might react to finding out that not all his forms are humanoid.

Hob blinked. “What? Bother me?” he grinned. “Not at all, love! I had no idea you were such an adorable and fluffy thing, that's all.” He ruffled Dream's hair.

“I am neither of those,” Dream argued even as he felt his face warm and made no move to stop Hob from mussing up his hair.

“You are absolutely both of those,” Hob said as he retracted his hand and instead took the book from Dream. “Well. At least it's a different poet. Dunno if I wanna see any tributes to you by that wanker Shaxberd…”

“Hob,” Dream chided, feeling the corner of his lips twitch with amusement.

Hob made a face that was both petulant and playful. “He took you from me that night, I shan't ever forget it.”

Dream leaned closer to Hob and gazed right into his eyes. “No one can take me from you.”

Hob's cheeks had darkened and his voice had a slight tremor when he spoke. “R-Right.”

Dream felt the beginnings of daydreams form in Hob's mind, and he leaned away once more to prevent himself from looking into them or doing something to Hob which might border on public indecency.

“Shall we look around some more?”

Hob blinked himself back to his senses and grinned. “That's what we're here for, right? Come on, I'll show you some of the history books I saw earlier.” He began to pull Dream along down the aisles. “They got some things right and other things laughably inaccurate. We'll judge them together, you'll love it.”

***

They were in the graphic novels section when one of Hob’s students turned up.

“Hey, you like The Moomins too?”

Hob had been looking for a particular title on the shelves, and he turned around when he recognized the voice. He was about to say that he hadn’t read that series, but he realized that Jade wasn’t talking to him.

Morpheus was reading one of the volumes, and he glanced up at the question. “It is interesting.”

“Yeah!” Jade grinned and stepped closer to Morpheus, the overhead lights reflecting off the purple streaks in her hair. Her eyeliner was thicker than that of Morpheus himself, and her black lace-up boots put her at almost the same height as him.

Hob didn’t miss the way she seemed to be sizing up the Dream King.

The dean was prickly with outfits, and the bookfair felt to Hob like it would be his first date with Morpheus; he had been so preoccupied with choosing what to wear that he had hardly thought about how Morpheus would dress.

Morpheus’ unbuttoned grey jacket showed off how his turtleneck and skinny jeans hugged his figure at the right places, so Hob hardly blamed anyone for staring.

Hob himself was wearing a navy blazer over a blue button-up long-sleeved shirt, his grey pants were tailored, and he had picked his newest brown leather loafers. He felt quite good in the ensemble, especially when Morpheus’ eyes practically roamed all over him when they met up earlier.

He should have expected that Morpheus would be on the receiving end of a similar ogling.

“I grew up reading the Moomin books, and recently I’d been trying my hand at making comics. I find it easier to write stories when I draw the characters first.” Jade smiled at Morpheus in the same way she always did before she asked out a classmate; Hob had seen it a few times along the corridors.

“Jade, nice seeing you here,” he walked over to them and stood beside Morpheus.

He knew there was nothing to be jealous about, but that didn’t mean he liked seeing people flirt with his boyfriend.

“Professor Gadling!” Jade looked surprised to see him. “Hey! Is this your friend?” she nodded to Morpheus. “I was just about to ask him if he wanted to have coffee and maybe talk about comics?” She glanced expectantly at Morpheus.

Morpheus closed the graphic novel and gave his version of a polite smile. “I think not. I am in a relationship with Hob Gadling and would endeavor to remain so for the foreseeable future.”

Jade’s eyes widened as she looked back and forth between Hob and Morpheus. Then she grinned brightly. “Professor! You told us you were single!” she said in a playfully accusatory tone. “You didn’t share any relationship stories in class when the other professors did last Valentine’s day.”

Hob remembered how the students had cajoled the friendlier professors to share stories of their love lives at the party that was held at The New Inn. He just chuckled when it was his turn and said that he was married to the Inn, all the while thinking of the raven-haired fellow he built it for. He felt himself smile.

“I wasn’t lying, I really was single back then,” Hob said defensively.

“He was. I remedied it.”

Hob was not a person to get easily flustered, but the way that Morpheus smiled at him at that remark was positively sinful that it brought to mind just exactly how Morpheus had remedied it in his office yesterday. It brought up other things to mind too, but Hob clamped down on them before they could turn into full-fledged daydreams that his mind-reader of a boyfriend would be able to see.

He cleared his throat, aware that his face was burning up. “Yeah, we're dating now. Maybe at the next party I’ll have some stories to tell. None of you hound me at the Inn!” he said pointedly, as some of his students tended to waylay him at the pub whenever they had questions about the lessons or just some stories to tell him. “We might have some plans tonight,” he gestured to Morpheus.

“You got it, Professor. Nice running into you both!” She left with a mischievous smile that let Hob know that the entire class group chat was gonna know about him and Morpheus before sunset.

“Her daydreams are loud,” Morpheus said as he returned the graphic novel to the shelf beside him.

“What?” Hob looked at the direction Jade went then back to Morpheus. “Oh. Uh… Yeah. It was a little weird to see one of my students try to hit on you.”

“Her daydreams were about you and me. They occupied her mind as she left.”

Oh. Hob couldn’t decide whether that was better or worse. He sighed and ran a hand down his face. God. The questions he would receive when he got back to class.

“She was wondering about the plans you mentioned. Do we have plans for tonight?” Morpheus asked curiously.

“Maybe? If you want.” Being hopeful got him this far, he wasn't about to stop now.

Morpheus stepped towards Hob, backing him up against the bookshelf. “And would you be telling me what these plans are? Or is it a surprise?”

“I am technically still at work, duck,” Hob chided playfully. “I don't want you snogging me senseless against this shelf.”

“Your daydreams say otherwise,” Morpheus’ voice was a low rumble, and a dastardly smile was on his lips.

Hob swallowed, and his eyes followed Morpheus’ movement as he reached up–

And took something from the shelf above Hob's head.

Morpheus took a step backwards and gave Hob the volume that he had been looking for, a look of feigned innocence on his face. “I believe this is what you wanted to purchase?”

Hob blinked and took the graphic novel from Morpheus as his brain caught up to what just happened. “I'll get you back for that,” he said pointedly.

“I look forward to it.” Morpheus’ teasing blue eyes momentarily flickered to black with pinpricks of stars, and Hob could only smile and press a soft kiss to his lips.

After an hour more of browsing stories of all genres, Hob had a basketful of books he was planning to buy. Morpheus offered to carry it for him to the cashier, but the crowd was thick among the queues, and Hob noticed that Morpheus was uncomfortable with the tight space; his posture turning rigid and guarded despite his efforts to maintain a calm expression.

So Hob had gotten him a cup of hot chocolate from the snack bar and told him to just wait there while he paid for the books. Morpheus had wrapped his hands around the cup and agreed.

Twenty minutes and one heavy tote bag later, Hob waded through the crowd and began making his way back to the snack bar. His eyes landed on Morpheus, and he was relieved to find that he looked more relaxed now than when he had left him earlier.

Hob was less relieved when he realized that Morpheus was talking to some blond man with glasses and a sweater vest, and Hob didn’t need to be able to see daydreams to notice how the chap was looking at his boyfriend.

He frowned as he remembered that the blond was one of the authors holding a book signing at a booth earlier. Hob has never denied being fond of books, and the bag he was currently carrying was evidence of that. But sometimes these writers really got on his nerves. Did they really have to pop out whenever he was with Morpheus?

Hob was standing at quite a distance away, and Morpheus hadn’t yet seen him. He shifted on his feet and wondered whether or not he should approach them.

Well, why shouldn’t he? It would be a perfectly normal thing to do. This wasn’t like 1589 when Morpheus left him to talk to someone else, and they were together now. So whoever that joker was would be the outsider in the group should Hob approach them.

But he could feel his mind overthinking and it glued him into place. What would he say once he got there? Would he be expected to participate in an in-depth discussion about what it was like to create stories? Besides, if he went over there and immediately introduced himself as the boyfriend, it might appear a tad too possessive and he didn’t know how Morpheus would react.

Hob could feel a headache forming behind his eyes. Things were much easier in the 14th century when if a man was making advances on one’s partner, one could simply clock him in the jaw and that was that.

Morpheus met his gaze so suddenly that Hob almost flinched. He had to have known that Hob was there to be able to zero in on him so quickly.

It wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else, but Hob could clearly see the curiosity and amusement in the gleam of his eyes. Morpheus turned to the author again, who was entirely oblivious to the moment that had just passed.

He could see my daydreams, Hob realized. That was how Morpheus knew he was there. And the dastardly Dream King was waiting to see what Hob was going to do. Well. Hob did promise to get him back.

He walked to a wall to the side instead of straight to the bar, moving closer in a way that wasn’t too noticeable. Then he called to the front of his mind the daydreams he’d been having about Morpheus throughout his long life. It wasn’t difficult at all; it turned out that remembering them was far easier than trying to suppress them all those years.

It was certainly easy to remember how shapely Morpheus’ calves looked in those breeches he wore in 1789, and the tempting thoughts that had rattled around in Hob’s mind with the knowledge that they had a private room in The White Horse at the time.

1889 was the first time Hob had seen Morpheus with a short haircut, and was unsurprised that it suited him just as well. Hob had been able to see the slope of his neck better, and it was a short route from that observation to the thought that The White Horse had just built a new set of bedrooms upstairs.

Just an hour ago they had been walking along the aisles of books, and more than once Hob had let his gaze wander to those skinny jeans that were perfectly tailored to Morpheus’ arse.

Hob kept his eyes on Morpheus while he let his daydreams run rampant, and he saw his posture tense up again before he politely said goodbye to the author. Morpheus walked away from the bar and blended into the flow of the crowd faster than Hob could keep him in his line of sight.

He frowned and craned his neck to try to see where Morpheus had gone. He wasn’t leaving, was he—?

“Hob Gadling.”

Hob whirled around to see Morpheus standing before him with a dark expression; his jaw was clenched and there was a dangerous look in his eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Morpheus seemed to loom over him.

Hob swallowed. The feelings stirring within him at seeing Morpheus like this were far from fear, but he did worry that he might have overstepped. “Alright, well, I can explain that—”

“If you wish to tempt a being such as I then you must be prepared for the consequences.” Morpheus’ voice seemed to reverberate through the air around them, and Hob felt the words die in his throat. “Tell me, what did you hope to achieve by baring your thoughts to me thus?”

Hob felt the cold wall against his back and realized that Morpheus had cornered him. None of the people walking past paid them any mind, and he could feel rather than see the shield that Morpheus had put up to hide them from sight. “You know what I want,” he breathed. “I showed you, didn’t I?”

Morpheus’ gaze softened, and he reached up to touch Hob’s face in a gentle caress. “I will not presume, my love,” he muttered.

That word embedded itself into Hob’s chest, and he found himself holding the lapels of Morpheus’ blazer. “I want you,” he held Morpheus’ gaze. “I want to bring you into my home and keep you in my heart, as I hope you’ll keep me in yours.”

“You need not wish for what already is.” Morpheus leaned forward and pressed their lips together. His hands on Hob's waist clutched at his shirt, the fabric crumpling into his grip as they kissed each other with increasing fervor.

Hob pulled back just enough to speak. “Take me to bed, Morpheus,” he managed between breaths. “Now.”

Morpheus’ eyes turned into galaxies, and sand swirled around them in an instant.

Hob fell backwards into his own bed, barely registering the heavy thud of the bag of books on the floor.

Morpheus’ hungry mouth was on his, and Hob was already pushing his lover’s jacket off his shoulders, tossing it aside the moment it slipped free.

Morpheus straddled him, and Hob moaned into his mouth as their groins pressed together.

“Hob,” Morpheus’ hair was wild and he spoke with a barely controlled voice. “What do you—”

“Everything,” Hob gasped, grinding up onto Morpheus. “All of it. You. Morpheus.”

His lips were claimed once more; and Hob welcomed it willingly. Their tongues pushed and slid against each other, and Hob melted in Morpheus’ embrace.

Hands deftly worked to unbutton his shirt, and Hob wriggled and turned as much as was necessary to get all the restricting layers off of him.

Morpheus’ mouth traveled up his jawline, resting just below his ear where Morpheus sucked and nipped at the tender flesh.

Hob arched his bare torso against Morpheus as his breathing came in shallow gasps. His hands roamed under Morpheus’ turtleneck, exploring the smooth skin underneath.

Morpheus hummed low in his throat before his shirt disintegrated into nothingness. He returned to exploring Hob's mouth with his tongue, all the while grinding his hips down.

Hob whined desperately into their kiss, his hands gripping Morpheus’ arse as he rutted against him. Too much fabric was in the way, and he pulled at the waistband of the blasted tight skinny jeans in the hopes that they would disintegrate too.

Morpheus pulled away from their kiss with a gasp, and it fueled the fire inside Hob to see his godlike lover so worked up to the point of breathing, lungfuls of air that his physical form seemed to need now.

He vanished the remaining of their clothing, and Hob couldn't find it in himself to care where his expensive trousers might have ended up, not when Morpheus crawled down his body and wrapped his mouth around his cock.

“Ohhhhh,” Hob arched off the bed, fists clenched in the sheets beneath him. Morpheus worked him from root to tip, his tongue flicking languidly at the slit. “Fuck,” Hob screwed his eyes shut as Morpheus’ throat tightened around him, his tongue and lips impossibly soft and molten hot. “Morpheus— I… Christ have mercy—” he squirmed and arched his back, but Morpheus’ hands were an iron brace against his hips, preventing him from moving them even an inch.

Blessedly Morpheus lifted his hands in order to spread Hob's thighs wider, but before Hob could think to move his hips, he felt a slick finger prodding at his entrance.

“Morpheus—!” his cock twitched in anticipation.

“Is this still good, my beloved?” his voice was rough and his gaze hungrier than it's ever been as his lubricated finger slipped in.

Hob nodded mutely, unable to form words around his shallow breaths as a second finger followed. Soon his hips were grinding down with abandon when there were three digits twisting and scraping along his walls. “M-More… I need—ahh…”

Morpheus watched Hob with rapt attention as he brushed Hob’s prostate repeatedly, enough to drag him to the edge but not beyond it.

“Morpheus,” Hob’s cock lay heavy and twitching, dripping pre-come as Morpheus continued his onslaught.

“Are you ready, my dearest?” Morpheus curled his fingers beautifully inside Hob.

“Ah—! Yes! I need you in me... Please…” Hob's hips were rolling of their own accord, and a sheen of sweat had formed on his forehead.

Morpheus leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on Hob's lips, the gesture a sharp contrast to the relentless movement of his preparation of Hob. He retracted his fingers, and Hob keened as he clenched down on the sudden emptiness.

But Morpheus didn't leave him wanting for long, lining himself up and pressing in so slowly that Hob felt every inch of his lover filling him.

Hob's breath hitched and his eyes rolled back in his head; his fingers dug into Morpheus’ shoulder as he thrust his hips upwards in encouragement. “Yesss… That's it, love… That's it…”

Morpheus latched his mouth onto the side of Hob's neck, his own breathing ragged as he retracted and sank back in, deeper every time. With his lips came tongue and teeth; he found a tender spot where Hob's neck meets his shoulders and bit down, just enough to make Hob gasp and buck his hips, drawing out a groan from both of them.

At a particularly powerful thrust, Morpheus buried himself to the hilt and a bolt of pleasure shot through Hob's core—

“Ngh! Morpheus…” his fingernails clawed at Morpheus’ back, his thighs, urging him to move with the rolling of his hips. “Don't stop… don't stop… Fuck…”

“You… are exquisite…” Morpheus looked down at him with such adoration that Hob felt himself flush even more along with the heat that seemed to be emanating from both of them. “Astonishing… Beautiful in your—”

Hob grabbed the back of his neck and crushed their mouths together, diving his tongue as far as it would go. Morpheus sped up in earnest, gripping Hob's hip as his thrusts became more powerful.

Hob threw his head back and gasped, pleas and moans and soft curses falling from his lips. The delicious pressure within him was building up fast, his thighs began to tremble, and he tensed up as he prepared to be hurled over the edge—

Morpheus slowed down, his previously brisk pace giving way to a more measured one, his lips pressing soothing kisses to Hob's neck.

“Wh…? My love… Darling…” Hob panted, the crash of frustration muddling his ability to form sentences. “What—Agh!” Sparks flashed behind his eyes as Morpheus slammed into him, picking up speed again as his breaths came in hot at Hob's ear. “Yes… Ah—Ah…”

A whine escaped Hob as Morpheus slowed down once more, his fingernails scraping Hob's thigh as he shifted into a deeper angle yet maintained a languid pace.

“You mad bastard…” Hob groaned as he realized what Morpheus was doing. He tried bucking his hips, but his lover had him pinned quite helplessly.

Morpheus lifted himself from Hob's torso to look down at him with a teasing smirk. “Do you not want to draw this out, my dearest? Will you not have me for as long as you could?” He punctuated this with a deep thrust that was infuriatingly not followed by another.

“You're going to kill me,” Hob panted and gave Morpheus a glare that was as sharp as his crumbling wits would allow him. “You would murder me in my own bed—” a gasp punched out of him as Morpheus’ cool fingers wrapped around his cock.

“Oh, not at all.” Morpheus began to stroke him in time with his thrusts, going faster and harder. “Though I have many plans for you in this bed. And my own, if you would permit me.” His breathing grew more shallow, and his gaze never left Hob as if he were a prey he intended to devour whole.

Hob could only produce noises that made no sense; words were beyond his reach now. Did Morpheus just invite him to his home? His bed? If Hob would permit— God's wounds, if only Morpheus knew that Hob had been willing to go anywhere with him long ago.

He could feel his orgasm approaching stronger than ever, and he whimpered at the thought that Morpheus might slow down again, but the heated kiss that his lover bestowed on him promised otherwise.

His moans became grunts as Morpheus sped up inside and around him, he dug his nails into Morpheus’ back, clutched at his hair, they gasped and panted into each other's mouths, and Morpheus twisted his hand just so at the same time as he slammed into Hob's prostate.

Hob came with a yowl that took the air from his lungs and convinced him he had gone blind for a moment; he trembled uncontrollably as he unraveled beneath Morpheus, who followed him over the edge with a guttural sound that branded itself onto Hob's brain.

They kissed and held each other through the aftershocks, their breaths and sighs mingling together as the tremors slowly dissipated. Hob made a soft groan as Morpheus gently pulled out and collapsed beside him on the bed.

Hob vaguely felt a shimmer of magic around them as Morpheus waved his hand and cleaned them up.

Then Morpheus laid a gentle kiss on Hob's forehead and began carding his fingers through his hair. “Are you all right, my love?” he murmured.

Hob nodded sluggishly, still catching his breath and reveling in the feeling of Morpheus’ soft touches on his scalp. He faced Morpheus and pulled him close, putting his arm around his waist and nuzzling his face against his neck. “I love you. Did I ever say?” He felt Morpheus’ breath hitch and his pulse quicken slightly.

“No. You have not said so before.” Morpheus tightened his embrace before continuing to thread Hob's hair between his slender fingers. “And I love you, Hob Gadling. With all that I am and all that I will be.”

Hob hummed in contentment, resting his hand over Morpheus’ heart that beats only for him, and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

———

Author's Note:

Now with art by @emihotaru depicting their kisses~

Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats is a collection of poems by T.S. Eliot; the musical Cats is based on this collection.

The Moomin books by Tove Jansson started as a comic strip and eventually became adapted into a series called Moominvalley.

The other stories mentioned in the bookfair scene are made up by me and @patchyegg87 based on vibes and Tumblr posts we've seen from long ago.

And I know I said I was planning to post this chapter last January so I apologize for how late I actually did--

Anyway, thank you so much for reading!

Special thanks to @patchyegg87 for keeping me motivated throughout this whole thing and brainstorming scenes with me~

I'm also grateful to the other Dreamling writers whose works inspired me to write this fic in the first place:

@moorishflower

@delta-pavonis

@purplesauris

@beatnikfreakiswriting

@signiorbenedickofpadua

@cuubism

@hardly-an-escape

I know I've never spoken to some of you but I just wanted to say thanks~

And to my readers, thank you for your patience with this late upload! I hope you liked the chapter!

———

<- Chapter 2

(Masterlist)

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golbrocklovely · 3 months

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Have you seen the argument that SnC can't be pulling away from the fans on social media because their 'social media stars' and that their entire job is social media so they are required to give fans tweets and instagram posts etcetc?

My opinion is no they're not social media stars anymore, they are YOUTUBERS, Instagram, twitter, tiktok and snapchat are just extras that these days they could stop if they so wanted. Their job is to create youtube videos, everything else they give us is given to us by their choice, they don't have to do any of that. They could if they wanted just use their social media accounts to promote only their videos and merch and nothing else like a lot of other youtubers do. They CHOOSE not to because in the past they have enjoyed the social side of things, but with their fans being assholes they are allowed to pull away from socials as they are not social media stars, it is not required of their job anymore. They are YOUTUBERS.

What are your thoughts?

it is very funny to hear ppl say this, especially when for years i thought the general consensus was that snc need to take a break and they deserve one. but now… no one wants them to have one. how weird.

first off, the main problem with this argument is that fans expect something for staying so long when we've never been guaranteed anything. i've been here for years, i don't expect snc to do dick all except give me content occasionally that i enjoy and continue to post on xplrclub where i pay to be/get exclusive content. that's all i'm owed. anything else is an added bonus.

fans that think they are owed something just bc they bought the most amount of merch or have been here for years or whatever other reason need a reality check. you are mistaking a past time of yours as a job. you aren't getting paid to be here. you can leave whenever. if you are no longer entertained, go.

snc haven't been consistent posters in years. like, yeah, there was a period of time from like 2015-2017 when snc were constantly posting on insta or twitter or snapchat or youtube. but it has not been like that in a very long time. snc don't have to put in that kind of work bc they have blown up already and now it's quality over quantity.

the problem i have with all of this is that snc have made it abundantly clear why they have started pulling back. EVERYONE IN THIS FANDOM IS AN ASSHOLE. what's not to get??

colby can't read comments anymore and has admitted so, he gets emails and loses followers over him growing facial hair, has been picked apart for years over his choice in gfs, got a terrible death threat a couple years ago that made him basically leave twitter, has gotten constant and dumb hate on there for years, got made fun of for being "fat" when it really him being sick with undiagnosed cancer, literally questioned even telling the fandom he had cancer in the first place bc he knew how they would react if he went bald, plus a mirade of other shit i can't get into. and even sam, the miracle child who rarely has ever had to face consequence for anything he's done or said, is now saying that fans are mean and words can hurt. so you KNOW it has to be bad for him to say something.

and they both said that they put too much of their personal life out there for everyone to see and it wasn't good for them, that they regret doing that.

this fandom thinks it "can say whatever it wants" without snc seeing it. or at the very least, they don't care if snc see. and in what universe would the idol want to stick around when it's fans are shitting on it?? you tell me. they're pulling back bc you all fucking suck. and when they eventually remove themselves entirely bc you want to bitch about their gfs or their face puffing up or whatever random other nonsense you deem worthy of a tweet, i don't want to fucking hear a peep. shut up, for once.

(none of this directed at you anon)

#ask #personal #sam golbach #colby brock #sam and colby

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niki-phoria · 1 year

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https://www.tumblr.com/niki-phoria/713093421809729536/httpswwwtumblrcomniki-phoria7103755498681303

part 4?? i was thinking like a few months from since they're ice ring date and they're already graduating and now sunghoon is the one who will give something to m/n

i need long haired hoon he would look so good ndsklns pls i beg

pairing: non idol!sunghoon x male!reader (he/him pronouns) genre: fluff word count: 960

includes: jayke cameos, they're graduating from high school bc this was originally a hs au, could be read as part of the series or alone, i don't have any more ideas for this series lmao, actually proofread/edited this one !! be proud of me pls

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i really like the idea of sunghoon giving something to reader, that's so cute <33 i hope you like it :))

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR

requests open !! read my rules first

you anxiously tug at the sleeves of your uniform, clutching the bouquet of flowers closer to your chest. your eyes search for sunghoon in the crowd - desperate for a familiar face as you stand on the stage in front of all of your peers and multiple flashing cameras all pointed at you.

you find sunghoon easily; his bright smile and proud expression making him stand out from everyone else. he brings a hand up to wave at you before raising both of his hands together to create a hand-heart. your smile grows as you continue to focus on him until you’re ushered off stage to make room for the next pair of students.

sunghoon lets out a small sigh as he watches you leave the stage, walking back to your assigned seat to wait for the ceremony to finish. despite all of his worries - the future, moving away, going to university, finding a job - his mind is only focused on one thing: you. you, and the promise ring safely tucked away into his pocket, patiently awaiting the perfect moment for him to pull you aside and present it to you.

“hey,” jake reaches over, gently patting his thigh. “don’t be so nervous. it’s gonna be okay.”

sunghoon nods in acknowledgement, still distracted. he knows jake is right; you’ve been going out for nearly a year and loved each other for even longer. you’ve made plans to visit each other and promised to meet up whenever possible - promises he hopes to seal with a ring once you can both slip away from the playful shoulder pats from your friends and loving pestering from your families.

“i know, i just…” he anxiously twists the thin metal chain of the bracelet around his wrist like it’s a fidget toy - a nervous habit he’d picked up after seeing you twist your own jewelry during tests or when you’re worried about something. “what if it’s too soon? i mean, what if i give it to him and he thinks it’s weird? or he doesn’t like it? or-”

“sunghoon,” jay interrupts this time, reaching over and placing his hands on sunghoon’s shoulders. his voice is quiet but stern when he speaks, painfully aware of the students surrounding them on all sides. “he’ll love the ring and whatever huge romantic speech you make up to go along with it. you know he will.”

sunghoon takes a deep breath, feeling some of the tension begin to relax from his shoulders. “thank you.”

they watch as student after student steps up onto the stage. they walk along to the string of principals, teachers, and the dean, all holding out their hands for a quick handshake before moving to stand at the edge. a photographer awaits them to snap a quick photo to immortalize the moment in film before they finally accept their degree and walk off - now officially the recipient of a high school diploma.

sunghoon follows the same steps of everyone else before him: walk onto stage, shake the hands of the people who made his education possible, pose for the picture, go back to his seat. despite knowing exactly where his family is sitting in the audience his eyes immediately drift to you. you bring your hands up in a heart just like he did, watching him with the same bright smile and proud glint in your eyes.

his anxieties wash away as soon as he looks at you. time can’t pass quickly enough as he patiently awaits the ceremony's conclusion. to sunghoon’s relief, it isn’t long before an announcement plays over the loudspeakers to signal the end of his waiting.

he immediately rushes to your side, all but tackling you into a tight hug as soon as he sees you. you laugh as you wrap your arms around his waist to support his body weight suddenly slamming against your frame. “we graduated!” he cheers.

“we graduated,” you chuckle, bringing your arms up to wrap around his shoulders. sunghoon pulls away just enough to move his hands to your face and pull you into a sweet kiss. you both smile into it until you’re forced to pull away for air.

you spend a few moments simply staring into each other’s eyes. sunghoon’s eyes have always been alluring - nearly daring you to go closer. “hey, i got you something,” he whispers, voice breaking your slight trance.

“oh, you didn’t have to.” sunghoon’s hand ghosts against your waist, keeping you close to him as he reaches into his pocket. the metal feels cool against his clammy hands.

“i wanted to.” sunghoon eyes carefully study your reaction as he raises his hand, presenting the ring for you. he watches as your eyes widen before you gasp, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. “it’s a promise ring,” he smiles, reaching out to grab your hand. he slides it onto your finger, taking a second to admire it before intertwining your hands together. “it matches the bracelet you bought me.”

you stare at the ring for a few seconds before jumping into sunghoon’s arms. he stumbles backwards as you laugh, clinging to him like he’s your lifeline. “thank you,” you whisper. tears sting the corners of your eye as you pull away just enough to pull him into a sweet kiss. “thank you.” sunghoon smiles, wiping a few stray tears away from your cheeks.

“why are you crying?”

“i just…” you pause, desperately searching for the words to explain how you’re feeling. adoration. warmth. devotion. none of them are good enough. not for him. you sigh, settling on the first thing that comes to mind; chiché at it is. “i love you. i love you so much.”

sunghoon’s smile grows as he pulls you even closer. “i love you too.”

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

Text

"Que sera, sera" - Morpheus x Wisdom!Reader

[TW: grief/loss of a child]

Pillars of Eternity Universe: [Pillars of Eternity] [The Just and the Wicked] || [Sandman-inspired playlist]

SUMMARY: Following his invitation, Morpheus and Wisdom visit Time on the Seas of Oblivion. What seemed like a social call, turns out to be a call for help.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 3.5k

[Been gone for a while but look, guys, I just started a new term and I'm 'plotting' another novel.] I recommend listening to "To the Moon and Beyond" by Gavin Luke while reading

How have you been while I was gone? Oh, I'm pleased to hear that! Shangri-La was lovely, thank you. The tree where the Spear of Ages resided for centuries is still growing strong. The swing my parents hung on one of the branches is still there. It's a wonderful thing that our world keeps changing and Shangri-La refuses to.

I'm still weary from my travel, so I'll tell you a shorter story today if you don't mind. I don't have as much vigour as I used to have in my younger years, I'm sorry, dear student. But despite the tale not being as long as the previous ones, I promise it is just as thrilling. It's about Dream and Wisdom, after all!

Before we start, have you ever heard people say they're running out of time? Ha! It always amuses me just the same. As if an ocean could run out of water! Hear me, little student, and remember this: water slips through your fingers because you're not holding it properly. Learn to handle time, become friends with it and not try to be its master. Befriending Time would be easier for people if they met that lovely old fellow...

Morpheus only heard stories about the Seas of Oblivion. He's never actually seen them, mainly because until now he had been unable to. Those uncharted waters lay beyond realms he was able to reach. Even dreams, as it appeared, were confined to a certain space but more importantly - they were bound to the grains of sand inside the hourglass and so was he. Morpheus may have been Endless but he wasn't Timeless like you.

"Seas of Oblivion are treacherous waters, dearest,” you warned him. “Underneath those sapphire waves lay memories of countless souls. The more vividly they are remembered by the living, the more vivid they appear: they might look alive, they might sound alive, they might even act like they're alive. But they are only an echo of somebody’s love."

With a blink of an eye, quite literally, Morpheus had found himself standing on a trawler, on the open sea. Cold water and salt spraying his face. A faint yet distinct aroma of algae and sludge filled his nostrils. The waters around him were about as black as the sky and if it wasn’t for the breathtaking aurora borealis, it would be quite impossible to tell where the horizon lay. There were neither stars nor moon nor planets above him - only stripes of beautiful colours so strange he wasn’t sure he could ever name them. The longer Morpheus stared at the lights the more he began noticing just how impossible they were in the way colours glided into different shades; the blues were purple after a while but when he focused a little more, he became sure that the lights were actually green. Or maybe yellow? They weren’t any colour he knew all the while shining in every shade he could possibly imagine.

His eyes, or maybe Morpheus himself, grew tired of the troubling aurora borealis and turned to examine the infamous waters. It’s hard to say whether he thought about it at the moment but in that cycle of life, he was to be the only Endless to ever see them. The impenetrable black waters were strangely shimmery as though there were silver particles drifting along the waves. Sometimes, he thought that the glimmering oddments took on meaningful shapes, only to scatter once more the moment he blinked. If he could only look at it a little longer, a little closer…

"Don't stare too long at the water.” Your words pulled him out of that strange headspace that lured him into leaning dangerously far out the side. “ It's hard to say what will stare back."

Understanding the seriousness of your warning, Morpheus looked up, away from the murky ocean but then his stare lay on something equally suspicious and thought-provoking: a black, slimy rock protruding from the indigo waters. As far as an eye could see, there was nothing resembling land. At first, the formation looked completely inconspicuous and perhaps that’s exactly why Dream’s gaze lingered on this black lump of slime - it was a little too unobtrusive.

Then, a yellow, fishy eye appeared on the surface of what Morpheus had assumed was a rock. A black rhomboid pupil stared at the Lord of Dreams with animalistic blankness as though the sea monster had the privilege of never entertaining even a single thought. Considering the distance between the yellow ocular and the boat, the eyeball itself must have been around Dream’s height in diameter. Morpheus felt a delicate shiver travelling down his spine: if that was only the eye, how big was its owner?

“Good day to you too, Charon,” you called out to the monstrum.

The beast let out a whale-like whine, then a low grumble before slowly submerging. Its yellow eye continued to stalk the floating boat.

“That is Charon?” Morpheus asked with a sense of wonder in his voice.

“Human legends do not do him justice, I agree. As they repeated the story of Time, Charon and Seas of Oblivion, the tale must have twisted and people now speak of Charon sailing Styx and a terrifying Leviathan lurking below the waves. Time should be down in the cabin.”

You turned the knob and the lock clicked. Although quiet, the Seas of Oblivion were exceptionally peaceful, so the sound of doors opening was well-audible. The two of you were about to go down the narrow steps leading to Time’s cabin when suddenly:

"Father?”

That voice… If Morpheus had a heart, it would stop beating at that very moment.

Sitting on the side of the ship, you saw a boy, barely old enough to be called a young man, with curly brown hair and an eagle nose. The tunic he was wearing was torn in many places with seaweed sticking to the material as well as his curls. He was absolutely drenched, black water dripping onto the deck of the trawler.

“Is that you?" the boy asked in a wavering, hopeful voice.

You put your hand on his shoulder and Morpheus winced slightly, suddenly and unexpectedly all the more aware of the reality surrounding him. "He's not real,” you whispered in a soft voice. “Not in the way you'd want him to be. I'm sorry."

Morpheus heard himself quietly gasp as Charon’s black, slimy tentacle wrapped around the physique of his late son, pulling the spectre under the tide. The Seas of Oblivion were quiet once more.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated while tightly holding his arm.

He didn’t answer. In the colourful light of the aurora borealis above you, his teary, bloodshot eyes glistened in a way that was both heartbreaking and poetically captivating. The thought of picking a fight with your siblings passed through your mind - you could undo this even if you shouldn't - but you discarded this idea about as swiftly as it had appeared. Impulse was unwise. Morpheus squeezed your hand and directed his steps down the stairs leading to the only cabin on the trawler. His silence was deafening.

Entering the inside of the trawler, guests were welcomed with a broken, old radio playing the chorus of one song on a loop. From the depths of the cabin, a hoarse, pleasant voice quietly sang along:

Que sera, sera Whatever will be, will be The future's not ours to see Que sera, sera What will be, will be

“Oh, there you are!” Time exclaimed in a raspy voice the moment Morpheus and you entered the small connecting room with a table and four barrels-turned-chairs.

The old man looked like the stereotypical sea dog: pearly white hair, a hat, calloused hands, wellies and a raincoat, even if it didn't rain in this part of the universe. As it so appeared, you had interrupted him while Time was sharpening an oyster knife. His steel eyes were barely visible as he smiled wide at you and chicken feet decorated his bright, wrinkly features.

“It’s so nice to see another face! Put the kettle on, will you? And grab something to eat out of the cupboard, dear.”

Morpheus sat across the table from Time as you walked farther into the cabin. Waiting for the turquoise kettle to whistle you looked for the aforementioned food. The inside of the cupboard was exactly what you had expected: oranges, sardines and jerky. Unchanged cuisine of Seas of Oblivion since, quite literally, the beginning of time. An amused sigh left your lips as you grabbed a few of each. Little did you know, Time had a good reason to ask you to complete this little quest for tea:

“Can you keep a secret, Lord of Dreams and Nightmares?” Time quietly asked when you were out of earshot.

“I know countless of them.”

“Good because Wisdom would hate for me to tell you this but seeing your pain hurts my old heart. Hear me, Dream of the Endless, just a sip out of the Seas of Oblivion can make you forget all that sorrow you carry. It will not change the past and its consequences but make the very fibre of your existence forget about it. You do not have to suffer.”

Morpheus stared at him for a moment, clearly pondering the extraordinary claim. He was seriously entertaining that thought. “Thank you, I…” he hung his voice for a moment, “Maybe one day.”

Just as he gave Time his answer, you entered the connecting room with the kettle in one hand and a less-than-impressive choice of food in the other. The oranges, jerky and sardines were piled up on your hand in a suspiciously physics-defying way but it would be a ridiculous lie to say that either of the men was even a little bit surprised. Their worlds were a lot stranger than the convenient ignoring of gravity.

Without asking him to, Morpheus got up from his seat only to take some of the things out of your hand and put them on the table. Watching the boiling water pour into the mug, you began the conversation: “How are you doing, Time? I hear that humid air is bad for joints.”

The man only laughed. “So is old age, dear Wisdom. I am doing just fine. The Seas are calm, the echos rarely make themselves known… It’s peaceful out here. Some days I think I don’t want my sail to end.”

"Why's that?" Morpheus asked him. To him, such reality sounded like a pipe dream and he tried his best to chase those bleak thoughts away.

"I grew to like this stubborn boy.” Time vaguely pointed at the small, circular window to your right. Out there, among black waves of the Seas of Oblivion, you noticed Charon’s tentacles peaking above the impenetrable waters every now and then. “Maybe he looks imposing and isn't exactly pretty but he's got a heart of gold, I tell you that. And to think that when I come alongside he will be unmade.” Time sighed and shook his head. Yes, that day must arrive no matter how unwelcome - the day he finishes his journey and another cycle must begin. “Speaking of Charon, he’s been strange lately as if he had fallen ill, all fussy and crabby... Or maybe he’s going to be?” Out of frustration, Time took off his cap and scratched his balding head. “You have to forgive me, old age makes me a little confused about timelines. On bad days, like today I suppose, it’s hard for me to tell future and past apart.”

“It’s alright,” you reassured him as you sat down next to Morpheus, across from your host. “Recently, one of the Palaces of Justice died. Perhaps that had made Charon unwell.”

"Oh, fiddlesticks! I didn't know they can die. Well, a time comes for everyone, I suppose." Time snickered at his own pun. “Truthfully, Charon is the reason I asked you to come.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Had something happened to him?”

“I think he’s just… lonely. He needs a friend. Endless seas and just one, poor, little Charon. I’d hate for him to grow bitter, he’s lovely if a bit tough on the outside.”

A quiet, repetitive cracking resounded in the room - it was Papsukkal, one of your crows, snacking on shelled peanuts spilling out of a massive bag placed in the corner near the stairs. Perhaps magical but he was a crow nonetheless and that meant peanuts had power over him. Used to the ever-present voice of Doris Day, you stopped even noticing the repetitive music coming from the scratchy-sounding radio.

"Why haven't you asked Aether?" you coaxed. It was no secret that your sister would be a better choice to ask such a favour.

The old man shook his head in a defeated manner. He let out a tired sigh before answering. "Wherever she goes, Abyss follows. I'm afraid she wouldn't quite understand this loneliness."

You raised your eyebrows at the bold implication. "Should I?"

Time’s steel eyes stared at you with a mildness that befits only people of ancient age. His calloused hand scratched his pearly white beard. "Only you can answer that,” he stated with a certain disinterest in his voice as though you had just asked him a question he could never even begin formulating a response to.

"I know the secret of Aether's power,” you said after a moment of silence. “I can imitate it but not recreate. Whatever ‘friend’ I make for Charon will appear alive and perfectly normal but will remain soulless. Such a creature will lack autonomy and awareness, doing only what it is told. Nothing more and nothing less. It will neither feel nor think,” you warned him.

“Please,” Time said in a quiet, mild tone. A sad smile appeared on his face. His wrinkly, calloused hand reached out to hold yours. “Charon deserves a better friend than I can be, someone to venture into the waters with him, to share his burden.”

“So it shall be,” you nodded quietly. “Come Papsukkal,” you called the bird.

Visibly reluctant to end his peanut feast, the crow flew to sit on your fingers. Morpheus and Time followed you outside of the cabin, both silently anticipating the miracle of creation they were about to witness. Although Dream had more occasions to see the scope of your power, he was just as smitten with the current possibility. Even more: he was a creator himself and yet your craft was so different from his. The major contrast was that his power was finite while yours was anything but, opening an entire uncharted realm of possibilities.

“Goodbye, dear friend,” you whispered to the bird. Its flaming eyes stared at you curiously.

Without much effort, your free hand barely tapped against the crow’s chest. Suddenly, the bird let out a deafening caw and it split into two separate entities: a black, completely ordinary crow still sitting on your hand and the strangest green ghost of a bird that appeared to be a flame brought into life. The crow-shaped spectre took flight, circling above your head.

"From the water I raise you and to water you shall return,” you said in a firm tone. Your voice wasn’t exceptionally loud and yet the black water began foaming restlessly. The trawler began shaking more than it should. “A monster of endless seas, protector of the damned. Guide the spirits of these waters, wash away the sorrows of their earthly lives. Do not fear the changing tides but learn to float along them. May the rivers of time flow in you, Silver Whale of the Oblivion Seas."

The green crow of fire let out a bright, booming caw before diving into the black water. For a moment, everything was silent, terrifyingly static. Then, a loud whine - a strangely white blue whale with green, burning eyes leapt above the impenetrable waves of Seas of Oblivion, only to fall back under the tide with a great splash.

“What a big boy!” Time exclaimed between chuckles. “Thank you, Wisdom. This is… I don’t know how to put it into words.”

“Then don’t. I know your gratitude, Time. Now we can only hope Charon and…”

“Barry,” Time stated. “He looks like a Barry.”

“Very well.” You couldn’t help a small smile entering your face. An entity so vital to the existence of this universe and he chose the simplest name one could think of. His exceptionality, like with everyone, lay not in his intrinsic nature but in his actions and choices. “Now we can only hope Charon and Barry get along as well as we want them to.”

In the distance, you could see Barry floating on his back and a thick, slimy tentacle curiously poking the whale’s exposed stomach. Once again, Time let out a raspy laugh.

“We should be returning to Dreaming,” you said as your hand gently grabbed Morpheus’s elbow. “It was a great pleasure, Time.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, dear Wisdom. Come by anytime you want.” You almost missed the quick, meaningful glance he gave Morpheus. “Thank you, again. Charon seems happy or at least happier than he was.”

The trawler, old sea dog and black, endless water faded into the marble walls Morpheus knew so well. Suddenly, it felt strange not to smell seaweed and sludge but the general dryness of his palace was incomparably better than the overwhelming wetness of the boat. Additionally, there were no ghosts haunting Dreaming.

Suddenly, someone barged into the room you had been in. Lucienne had her arms full of books and papers. Her lips were pushed together, no doubt an effect of the amount of work she had to take care of in a record time. Bless her heart for having such strength.

“Before you leave, my lord Morpheus,” she spoke fast and somehow impatiently but it was hardly her own fault, “the Order of the Burning Rose requested an audience as soon as possible. The patriarch sounded… upset, to put it lightly.”

“Thank you, Lucienne. I will take care of it,” he answered in a strangely absent voice. In rushed footsteps, she disappeared into the long halls of the palace and Morpheus looked at you with a curious glint in his eyes. “How long have we been gone?” he asked.

You shrugged your shoulders slightly. “I can’t be exactly sure but I’d say around five minutes? Maybe seven?”

He had a strange, and probably not at all conscious, habit of tilting his head upwards when he felt thrilled or fascinated. Morpheus could, of course, make a comment about how remarkable you were but it seemed pointless - who in their right mind makes a note of the wetness of water? Or the darkness of the night? “Now, if you’ll excuse me, lady Wisdom, I have a kingdom to reign.”

“Do what you must, my king.”

And with those words, he had to return to his regal duties. You, too, went back to what you did most of the time - sitting underneath the hazel tree, listening to the whispers of countless realms that were, are and yet will happen; the chattering of cycles of life.

It was hard for you to say how much time had passed when you heard a bizarre and utterly unexpected sound: a whale’s singing. You opened your eyes only to see a large fin disappearing in the sky as though its owner dived farther into the firmament like it was water.

Sparing no time, you searched for Morpheus and possible answers to his sudden change of heart. Finding him wasn’t exactly difficult - he stood on the staircase leading up to the castle’s entrance. Wrapped in his ridiculously long coat, he simply admired his new creation, no matter how narcissistic that might have seemed.

“I see you’ve been busy.”

Morpheus looked at you but only for a moment. Something about the humpback whale swimming across the firmament was a little too captivating. “For the first time, I looked at my own sky and realized it was empty despite all of these stars.”

“It’s beautiful.”

As though the whale had heard your compliment, it sang happily eliciting a laugh from you. Your eyes followed the graceful, slow movements of the mammal, while Morpheus’s gaze was stuck on you. It appeared that there were things more captivating than whales in a starry sky.

I’m afraid my tale ends here, dear student. There is still some time until nightfall. You’re welcome to linger at my home but I’m tired and, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get some rest. There should be some oranges in the kitchen if you’re hungry. Oh, and before I go, because I might forget this and it’s quite important, there are two things I need you to remember: if you dream of a humpback whale, don’t be afraid of the challenges ahead, you will succeed. The second thing is when you visit me next time, remind me to tell you the story about the patriarch and the Burning Rose. I’ll see you soon, dear student.

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seiya-starsniper · 1 year

Text

they say our love's just like Magic

For @dreamlingbingo 2023: Square B3: Creature: Phoenix

Title: they say our love's just like Magic

Rating: T

Word Count: 3964

Ship(s): Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Additional Tags: Idiots in Love, Getting Together, Card Games, card tournament shenanigans, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Human, Johanna Constantine is a good friend, Johanna Constantine loves money, Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Humor, Dreamling Bingo

Summary:

Honestly it's not that Hob doesn't want to see Dream. Hob’s been playing Magic: The Gathering for almost five years now, and Dream has been a consistent staple throughout that entire time. They’ve gotten more friendly in the last couple of years, and Hob’s even snuck a surprise win or two from the other card player.

The thing is, Dream’s also one of the most beautiful men Hob has ever laid eyes on.

AKA - Hob and Dream play Magic The Gathering competitively, and Hob's got a massive crush. Johanna's just along for the ride, and to make money off resale.

AO3 Link [Here] or you can keep reading below the cut!

"Hurry up, Hob, we're going to be late!" Johanna's voice rings through Hob's entryway.

Hob sighs as he pulls on his jumper. It was way too bloody early in the morning for this. "Jo, sign ups don't open for another hour!” he yells from his bedroom. “If you think they're going to run out of spots…"

"I heard Dream's going to be showing up today." Johanna interrupts, appearing suddenly at his bedroom doorway, holding Hob’s sneakers. “Come on, then! There’s going to be a line!”

Well shit. Hob throws on his messenger bag, grabs his sneakers from Johanna and runs towards his front door.

"I knew all I had to do was say your boyfriend's name and you'd come running," Johanna grins as they dash to the tube.

"Shut up, Johanna,” Hob snarks back at her.

The thing is, Dream’s also one of the most beautiful men Hob has ever laid eyes on.

Hob had walked into a Jace Beleran cardboard display the first time he laid eyes on Dream almost three years ago at a tournament. Then his girlfriend at the time, Alianora, had shown up shortly after to look over Dream’s shoulder as he finished up his game. Hob thought he’d actually died and gone to bisexual heaven looking at the two of them. Except heaven did not smell like day old body odor, so he was definitely still alive.

Hob had been knocked out of his rounds earlier that day, so with nothing better to do, he’d joined the crowd forming around Dream and Alianora to watch the other man in his Constructed match.

Hob’s always gone for a more aggressive playstyle, favoring red and green decks with plenty of easy to summon monsters. He tends towards quick matchups, but every once in a while, he’ll get giddy when he builds up enough mana on the field to summon some massive creature with Trample to end a match in one move.

Dream is the exact opposite. His play style relies heavily on counterspells and using his opponents' creatures against him, leading to longer, drawn out matches. With his gothic persona to top it all off, it only makes sense that he goes for a blue and black combination.

All that to say, Dream’s poor opponent didn’t know what hit him.

Hob would later realize that one of Dream’s favorite strategies would be to let an opponent think they’re about to win, only to use an instant on said opponent’s turn to clear the entire field. Dream would then use all his mana to summon some abomination with haste on his turn to win the match. Which is exactly what happened to poor Simon. Or Steve. Hob can’t remember the poor bloke’s name.

From that first match, Hob had been determined then to play against Dream himself. He started brushing up on the current standard sets and strategies, and tested out what he could at Friday Night Magic. It took time but he'd improved his skills slowly, but surely. Enough at least to at least not get knocked out immediately by the competition.

Hob did eventually manage to face off with Dream and he was just as dazzled facing the man head on as he was just watching him play.

But Hob’s not the only player dazzled by Dream. Dream’s reputation makes him practically a celebrity in their local community. Everyone scrambles for a chance to play him at least once, just for the privilege of saying they faced him and lost.

Hob considers himself lucky to have faced Dream more than once. Always in Limited format though. There’s no way Hob would beat Dream in Constructed or Commander, so on days when Dream chooses to competes in those formats, Hob's just happy to watch and cheer.

With that in mind, there’s really only so many tournaments and so many hours in the day so really, getting matched up with Dream is like winning the lottery. Which is precisely why Johanna is here with Hob, at 8:00am on a Saturday morning. Dream’s so popular that any rumor of him showing up to a tournament draws lines before sign ups officially open. It’s insane. Hob knows he’s going to be miserable waiting in line while Johanna runs off to go resell.

Johanna had, up until six months ago, shown absolutely no interest in Magic. She and Hob have been close for years and she’d spent almost that entire time making fun of Hob’s vested interest in the game.

Still, Johanna indulged him through the years, buying Hob packs for all sorts of occasions: his birthday, passing a test, as a pick me up after a breakup. She also didn't mind the larger tournament scene, as long as there were other things for her to do, she'd tag along for events at the bigger conventions so she could walk around and look at the floor while Hob parked himself for the day at the tables.

It was at one of these conventions that Johanna learned of the trading card resale market. Suddenly, Hob's entire rares collection went from "a bunch of useless cardboard" to liquid gold. Come to think of it, it was also at that same convention she’d seen Alianora for the first time. She and Dream had broken up by that point.

Ever since then, Johanna’s stuck to Hob like glue. She’s constantly trolling the markets for rare card finds, arguing with vendors to get the best resale value for cards she already does have, along with cards Hob no longer has a use for, and somehow finding time to flirt shamelessly with Alianora, who still shows up to tournaments to play.

“Earth to Hobsie,” Johanna’s voice trills, snapping Hob out of his trip down memory lane. “This is our stop.”

“Right, right,” Hob nods. “You actually going to sign up with me this time, or are you leaving me to the wolves as per usual?”

“Hob, Hob, the hustle never stops,” Johanna grins. “Promise I’ll bring you back enough to buy at least one box from the new set though, as an early birthday present. I won’t even try to buy Sacred Foundry from you if you pull it.”

“Wow, how generous of you,” Hob rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. Johanna takes his arm and they run up the stairs together towards the convention.

—

Hob barely manages to get a spot in Sealed. It’s not his favorite format, but Dream’s apparently signed up for Sealed today so that’s where Hob goes. Their block doesn’t start for another two hours, so Hob wanders off to find Johanna on the convention floor.

He's so focused on looking for Johanna's signature beige trenchcoat that he doesn't quite notice the figure all in black until he runs right into him, nearly knocking both of them over. Luckily, Hob's got good balance, and he manages to steady the both of them, grasping the slightly taller man in his arms.

"Sorry about that mate," Hob apologizes. "Was too focused looking for my friend and whoa hey, Dream?"

Dream stares for a moment before recognition flickers across his face.

"Hello Hob," Dream greets warmly, and Hob could just melt into the floor. Dream is normally rather stiff and standoffish during tournaments, which leads a lot of other players to mistake him for arrogant. But Hob learned from sticking around to chat with Dream after all the matches were done that Dream just gets super hyper focused when he's in the zone. He's otherwise rather friendly, if given the chance. Still, it's rare to see Dream on the floor of a show, normally the man showed up to these things only to play, very rarely to browse.

"Fancy seeing you here, old friend," Hob replies, grinning. "Looking for anything in particular?"

"A few things," Dream confirms, but doesn't elaborate. "And yourself?"

"Looking for Johanna until matches start," Hob replies. "I saw you signed up for Sealed. Hopefully I'll get to play you later."

Dream's lips quirk in a barely there smile. "We shall see."

Before Hob can come up with an excuse to keep them talking, Johanna tackles Hob from behind. She's got plenty of bags in her arms which tells Hob she was successful at whatever she was doing. Unfortunately, said bags also hit Hob square in the back along with his friend.

"Oof, hey what the hell Jo," Hob groans.

"You'll never believe how much I got from that rat Vinny for that Chalice of the Void !" Johanna's extremely giddy so Hob's guessing she's made her sales for the day.

"Let me guess, Vinny was short of willing to part with his firstborn?" Hob jokes.

"You bet!” Johanna grins. “Happy Birthday Hobsie, I got you two boxes of Guilds of Ravnica!"

"It's your birthday?" Dream asks once Hob has had a moment to admire his new toys.

"Not for another week," Hob answers. "But it's close enough."

“Happy early Birthday then,” Dream says, a genuine and rare smile gracing Hob’s vision. Hob grips Johanna tightly, suddenly feeling faint. He can feel her judgment emanating off her as she pats his elbow.

“You should come with us, we're going out tonight to celebrate!” Johanna declares.

Dream pauses. He looks unsure, like he wants to accept but feels like he shouldn't.

"I…am not the biggest fan of bars, unfortunately," Dream admits, as if this is something to be ashamed of and not the norm for most people Hob knows. "They are a bit too crowded for me."

"Well it's not like the people there smell any better than here," Johanna says, shrugging. Hob sighs. Johanna needed to learn more tact around nerds.

“Besides,” Johanna adds, “Hob's uncle owns The New Inn, so we'll have a private room and everything, so no worries there!”

Dream blinks and turns to Hob. "Your uncle owns The New Inn?" he asks, awed.

"Oh yeah, I guess it's never come up," Hob replies sheepishly. Hob knows The New Inn is a local favorite in the area but he hates telling people about his connection because they always inevitably ask for free drinks. Not that Hob wouldn’t give Dream free drinks if he asked, but still.

"I have never seen you there," Dream notes. “I like it there. It is…quieter.”

“Well, I'm not skilled enough to tend the bar so I'm usually in the back unpacking food and bottles,” Hob replies. “But next time you come by, just let them know you're here to see me and I'll come out and say hello. Not tonight though, since I won't actually be working.”

“I'll go tonight,” Dream says, turning to Johanna. “If there won't be…too many people, it should be fine.”

“Great!” Johanna says. “You should give Hob your number just so we can find each other later huh?”

“Jo!” Hob hisses at the same time Dream says, "Yes that would make sense."

Hob's pretty sure he feels his heart stop in his chest once his brain catches up. He nearly fumbles and drops his phone when he takes it out of his pocket to start creating a contact.

Hob quickly realizes he has a small conundrum. He doesn’t actually know Dream’s real name.

“So am I just putting you in as Dream, or…?” Hob really hopes he doesn’t sound as awkward as he feels.

Dream wrinkles his nose. “I really don’t care for my legal name, so you may keep it as Dream. For now.”

“Ooh, we gotta fight for your legal name huh?” Johanna asks. “Perfect that we’re going to a bar then, plenty of opportunity for bad decisions. Like that time Hob pulled a Mox Amber card and then spilled tequila on it.”

"Excuse me, you spilled the tequila!" Hob retorts as he and Dream switch phones to enter each other’s numbers. Once he’s gotten his phone back from the other man, he fires off a quick text to open up a text conversation with them.

Dream’s phone dings and he smiles when he opens up Hob’s message.

“There we go,” Dream says. “I will see you at the matches later, then.” Hob and Johanna wave their goodbyes as Dream walks back into the crowd of vendors.

“I am the best wing woman and don't you ever forget it!” Johanna crows once Dream is out of hearing range.

Hob can't even come up with a witty retort because he. has. Dream's. phone number. Holy shit. It's already the best tournament of Hob's life and matches haven't even started yet.

—

Hob somehow makes it through his first few matches without mooning over Dream a few tables over. He can tell the other man has put together something insanely good because his matches end pretty quickly. Hob isn’t doing too bad himself. He's already won his first three sets and he only needs to make it through two more to make it to Dream, if he’s reading the bracket correctly.

Alianora shows up about halfway through Hob’s fourth match. Johanna immediately latches to her and they end up coming over to observe Hob play. Hob had seen her earlier with another woman playing a Two-Headed Giant match. Alianora complains about how it’s hard to find a good partner for the format. Johanna, unsurprisingly, volunteers to be her partner for the next tournament she wants to enter. Hob is anticipating many long nights in his flat after today.

Johanna then impulsively invites Alianora to Hob’s birthday celebration. Hob chokes on air and almost accidentally reveals his hand to his opponent.

“Is that not all right?” Alianora asks, worry evident in her face and tone as she looks back and forth between him and Johanna.

“No, no, it’s not that, you’re more than welcome,” Hob says, waving his hand dismissively.. “It’s just that Johanna seems to have forgotten she also invited Dream.”

“Oh!” Alianora’s face lights up. “And he’s actually going? ”

Hob almost forgets to untap in his upkeep. Alianora sounds…happy? Is…is she going to try to get back together with Dream?

“Yeah, he said he doesn’t really like bars, but he likes The New Inn,” Johanna explains, not seeming to realize Hob’s anguish.

“Oh yes, we used to go on dates there,” Alianora says, nostalgia clear in her voice and Hob’s heart sinks. How did he never know that? “It’s been one of my favorite spots ever since.”

“Oh…well that’s interesting.” Johanna also sounds rather disappointed. Well, at least Hob wouldn’t be the only one drinking their sorrows tonight. But first he needed to win this match.

Hob blocks an attack with his Portcullis Vine and then casts Crushing Canopy on his opponent’s Dimir Spybug to put the board back at equilibrium. Now they each have two creatures on the field.

“I’ve never seen either of you there,” Hob says while his opponent debates his next move. “It’s my uncle’s place and I’m usually there most weekends, though usually in the back.”

“Oh that’s so cool!” Alianora gushes. “We used to always go on Tuesday nights, when it was practically empty. I told him not to let our break up ruin his favorite meal, but you know, he’s stubborn so I’m sure he hasn’t been going. I’m so happy you convinced him to not only go back, but also on a weekend! He almost never went out on the weekends with me, even when I begged.”

That is more information than Hob is prepared to process all at once. Hob has so many questions for Alianora, but he absolutely cannot dedicate the brain power to both play well and untangle all his thoughts. So instead he mutters a non-committal “huh, interesting,” and then throws all his focus into finishing the game.

Alianora understands the message instantly. “You’ve got this, Hob!” she cheers.

Hob sees Dream whip his head up in surprise from his own match out of the corner of his eye. Hob waves. Well this was going to be an interesting conversation later.

Hob barely manages to win the match but a win is a win and luckily his fifth match is much easier. Dream’s fifth match, on the other hand, takes much longer than Hob anticipates, but Hob’s a patient man. He knows Dream will win.

Finally, the moment he’s been waiting for is upon him.

“You’re late,” Hob jokes as Dream stands across the table from him

“My apologies,” Dream replies, faking a bow before he sits at their table. “I’ve always heard it impolite to keep one’s friends waiting.”

Hob grins. “I’m absolutely kicking your ass today, Dream.”

—

Dream is kicking Hob’s ass.

He’s down to only 5 life thanks to Dream’s Citywatch Sphinx , and he also has Etrata, The Silencer on the field, so not only is Hob taking direct damage from her attacks as well, he’s also just lost his second monster to his exile pile. He’s practically set up to lose his next turn, whether by direct damage or that damned vampire.

There’s a crowd that’s formed around them, a mix of Hob’s friends trying to be supportive (and also probably hoping he loses so they can go drinking), and a few fans of Dream who love to watch him play. Johanna is having a grand time watching Hob embarrass himself.

“I can’t believe you’re humiliating the poor man on his birthday, Dream!” Johanna laughs as she throws her arm around a now blushing Alianora.

“It’s not for another week, he will survive,” Dream replies dismissively. He glances over at Alianora and raises his eyebrow. Hob sees her mouth quirk out of the corner of her eye. They seem to be communicating silently, and Hob wishes he knew what they were saying. But he needs to focus on his game.

It’s especially frustrating because Hob has Dream down to his last 3 life, but between Etrata, the Sphinx, and an untapped Gatekeeper Gargoyle , Hob has no way of attacking Dream directly. Dream also loading his deck with removal spells had caused all of Hob’s creatures to keep getting destroyed, exiled, or countered. He’s also only drawn mana his last few turns. Ah, the joys of getting mana flooded.

“If I knew how easy this game was going to be, I should have had you put your money where your mouth is,” Dream says mildly.

“You still could!” Alianora says excitedly. “You should definitely bet bar tabs!”

“That’s evil,” Johanna says. “I love it.”

“Traitor,” Hob mutters. He takes his next turn, untaps his mana, draws, and prays for a miracle.

…Holy shit, he may just win this.

Hob takes a quick look at the board to assess the viability of his new strategy. Dream’s mana is mostly tapped out, so the chances of him counterspelling are low, but not impossible. Hob also has more than enough mana on his side of the field to pull this off.

Hob plays Assassin's Trophy to kill Etrata, and prays Dream doesn’t have a return from graveyard card. The raven haired man plays the free mana he is given, and shuffles his deck, but otherwise doesn’t counter. Hob counts his lucky stars before he casts Cosmotronic Wave to ensure Dream can’t block with his Gatekeeper Gargoyle and Citywatch Sphinx.

Now for the moment of truth. Hob had drawn Assure//Assemble on this turn, and while he doesn’t have any creatures of his own on the field, there’s no rule saying he can’t buff one of Dream’s creatures. With Assure, Hob finally has everything he needs to summon Arclight Phoenix back from the graveyard.

“Why are you…” Dream starts to ask but then Hob grins when he reveals what he’s taken from his graveyard.

“Arclight Phoenix is back!” Hob crows. “Your creatures can’t block, and it has haste so no summoning sickness. You’re dead!”

Hob can’t believe it. He barely won, but a win is a win. And against Dream too! There’s a lot of yelling going around but Hob barely hears it over the roaring of his own ears.

“Congratulations,” Dream smiles as they shake hands. “It seems I’ll be paying your tab tonight.”

—

Hob’s had more than a fair amount of shots when he spots Dream and Alianora speaking to one another in a corner.

Alianora is gesturing to the small crowd of people in their party room, and Dream looks…constipated is probably the best way to put it.

“Everything all right?” Hob asks when he makes his way over to them. He tries not to stumble over his words, but he’s had a lot of alcohol on Dream's tab, in addition to all the birthday drinks his other friends have bought him.

Alianora’s expression lights up when she sees him. “Perfect timing, Dream has something he wants to tell you!”

“Alianora!” Dream scolds but she's already wandered off towards the bar. There's a brief silence before Hob coughs to break the tension.

“So…what’s that about?”

Dream sighs.

“Nothing. Alianora is just interfering in my affairs, as per usual.”

“Affairs?” Hob snorts. “You make it sound like something illicit is happening at a birthday party.”

“It’s not that, she just - “

Dream’s next words are cut off by loud cheers.

Dream and Hob turn to look at the source of the noise and it’s Johanna…kissing Alianora.

“Fucking finally!” Hob exclaims before he realizes what he's said. “I mean!” he slaps his hand over his mouth as he turns back to Dream. “Uh…sorry about your ex?”

Dream huffs. “It was me who broke off our relationship, Hob. We were always better as friends.” Hob notices then that Dream is smiling at the two of them. “She is lucky Johanna is so bold.”

Hob snorts. “Yeah, Jo’s not afraid to go for what she wants.” Unlike Hob. “So uh…no new girlfriend then?” It’s the lamest segue in history, but Hob can always blame it on the alcohol later.

“It’s recently come to my attention that I am gay,” Dream replies.

“Oh, great,” Hob says before his brain catches up to him. “I mean! That’s not what I meant! Not that it’s not great to be gay, I’m bisexual myself, so absolute solidarity in liking men!”

Dream then bursts into laughter. It’s a beautiful ringing noise and if Hob weren’t already so far into his crush, he’d definitely have fallen in love at this very moment in time.

“Oi! You two gonna kiss too, or what?” Johanna yells from across the room, drawing back their attention.

“You better!” Alianora chirps. “Dream hasn’t shut up about you for months!”

Oh.

Hob looks back over at Dream, who is now spotting a very rosy color to his cheeks. Hob’s pretty sure he has the same sort of blush on his own face.

“So for our next matchup…” Hob says after a few moments of awkward, but charged silence between them. “If I win, do I get a victory kiss?”

Dream snorts. “If that is what you desire more than free alcohol.”

“Oh, it is,” Hob says, feeling much braver now as he grins at his longtime crush. “And not to push my luck further…”

“I’m sure you will anyway,” Dream interjects, his lips also quirked into a small smile.

“But it is my birthday celebration, and it’s a rule that a man's gotta be kissed on his birthday.”

“Is it now?” Dream asks, feigning surprise.

“Yeah, you got any ideas for volunteers?”

“You’re drunk,” Dream replies. “And an idiot.”

Dream kisses him anyway, to loud cheers.

Best. Birthday. Ever.

#dreamling #dream x hob #sandman fanfic #2023 dreamling bingo #dreamling bingo #dream/hob gadling #the sandman fanfic #mystuff #seiya writes #seiya writes dreamling

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ihaveathingforwomen · 1 year

Text

Universes Away - PT. 10

WandaNat x OC

Masterlist

a/n: I cut out a lot of fluff, thinking of doing some HCs or drabbles for them?? idk we'll see.

Warnings: none that I can think of! Just some subtle cute flirting, Adrian being a bit of a gentleman.

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Adrian learns a little bit about Wanda's past.

Their Friday morning moved about at a typical pace. Adrian awoke early working out in the garage for their morning meditation, coming upstairs to shower and then wake the boys. When they entered the bedroom after their shower they were greeted by Natasha sitting up in bed, reading as was part of her morning routine as well. Wanda, still appearing to be asleep, laid her head on Natasha's stomach, her arms wrapped around Natasha's middle. Natasha stroked her hair quietly while she read, turning to Adrian with a smile as they made their way around the bed to deliver a kiss to her lips. Once the kiss had been delivered, they made their way to the closet and began sifting through the clothes, taking in options for the day.

"How did last night go?" Natasha whispered to them, setting her book down quietly on the nightstand, both hands now giving their attention to Wanda.

Adrian had just chosen a plain white t-shirt, black jeans, and a dark gray bomber jacket as the cooler fall weather was beginning to settle in the Asbury air. Once they'd taken the clothes off of the hangers, they gently half-folded them and set them on the arm of the lounge chair in the corner of the room. "It went well," they told her and turned slowly to make eye contact, "date tonight." They gave her a wide natural smile, one that Natasha hadn't seen in so long. Natasha smiled back and Adrian continued to pick the rest of their outfit. They took a pair of white crew socks out of their drawer, a pair of gray boxer briefs and a nude binder as well. Their hair was still dripping and they took the corner of the towel and scrunched the ends of their hair, squeezing out the water.

"I'll get a ride with Clint and pick up all the kids, we'll just spend the night with them," Natasha told them as they started pulling on their clothes, but they paused, stumbling, to look at her.

Their face lit up, "really?" Natasha nodded in affirmation, "I'll run all the errands for the game today while they're at school, promise. And we'll take the van tomorrow and pick everyone up, whatever you need," while relieved, their voice leaked with anxiety. Natasha could tell that they were nervous for the date and didn't want to upset anyone. Adrian finally shimmied their jeans up their legs, not buttoning them, but stumbled and accidentally stomped loudly on the floor, muttering curses as they steadied themselves. It was enough to bring Wanda from her rest as she moved her arm and slowly looked up to Natasha, who welcomed her waking with a gentle smile.

"Good morning. Sleep okay, lovely?" Natasha asked her quietly, no longer whispering. Wanda nodded slowly as she gradually pushed herself off of the bed in an attempt to wake up. It was unsuccessful as she landed back among the pillows. She lies on her back, her arms crossed as they cover her eyes. She bellowed a groan that flowed into a gentle laugh, sighing at the end. Natasha and Adrian's eyes were trained on her, both of them grinning at their partner as she was unaware. Adrian continued slowly pulling on their clothes, quietly struggling to pull their binder over their head. Wanda uncovered her eyes and turned to Natasha immediately.

"Good morning, sorry," she told her, feeling bad that she didn't say anything and was sure her groans came off as rude.

"Don't be sorry," Natasha reassured her, "are you ready for the day?" Natasha's gaze fell on Adrian for just a moment, smiling wide as she caught them staring and admiring Wanda, whose hands were now laced under her head. Their white shirt bundled in their hands, fidgeting as they bite their lip in thought. Their head ached to turn, forcing their eyes away from Wanda only to be met by Natasha's gaze. It snapped them from their trance as they fluttered their eyes and continued getting ready.

"I think so, what are we doing today?" She asked, giggling as her gaze floated to Adrian who had turned around as they pulled on their shirt.

"Well, you can come with me to work today or stay with Adrian today, whichever you prefer." Wanda tried to listen to Natasha but her attention was placed on watching Adrian, seeing how low their scars went for the first time. She wondered what they were wearing under their shirt, seeing that it became flesh with their skin and obviously tighter than what she was used to seeing. Their muscles were subtly defined along their lower back and biceps, her eyes were trained on their movement, staring as they flexed.

As Wanda slowly turned her head back to Natasha she allowed her instincts to make her decision, "I'll go with Adrian today," her tone quiet, still lost in thought. Natasha smiled, nodding in agreement and began making her way out of the bed.

Wanda followed Natasha through their typical morning routine. Adrian woke the boys and went downstairs to start making breakfast. Everyone got ready with ease and joined downstairs for breakfast where they shared domestic conversation about the weekend ahead. It was everything Wanda dreamed of as she beamed at her family for the entirety of the meal.

Eventually, though, their conversations did end and it was time to get the boys to school and Natasha to work. Adrian and Natasha unanimously took the task of taking care of the dishes while Wanda guided the boys in tying their shoes. Everyone finished at about the same time and the boys started to run towards their minivan parked behind the house, in front of the garage, but Adrian halted them.

"Ah-ah-ah, boys," they started and the boys came sulking back. "It's cold, you both will need jackets today, maybe even tomorrow before your game." The boys sighed and trudged back to the front door, grabbing their jackets off of the hooks. Natasha tapped Wanda's arm and tilted her head towards the door, guiding her along to grab a jacket as well. Adrian grinned and followed their family to the front door. As they entered the foyer, sliding their jacket from the hook, they saw Wanda standing quietly behind Natasha, eyes darting around as she wasn't sure what jacket she was supposed to be grabbing.

"Wands, baby," Adrian grabbed her attention and motioned for her to come over. "Here's your jacket, my love," they told her in a whisper as they helped her slide her arms into their jacket. She smiled at them as her cheeks became rosier by the second, her face felt hot as she shyly slid into the jacket. Once it was properly on her shoulders, she turned to Adrian, whose hands were pressed on her shoulders.

"What about your jacket?" She questioned, gently shoving their shoulder. Natasha and the boys stood behind her, ready to defend the question.

"Mom, you have to have a jacket too," Billy warned, his arms crossed as he mirrored his brother who stood next to him with a scowl.

Adrian sighed, "You're right boys, I'll be right back. We're taking the outback today, van tomorrow, okay?" She told them and Natasha nodded, grabbing the keys from their catch-all plate as Adrian bounded up the stairs.

Once everyone made it into the car, Adrian began their journey to drop everyone off. Natasha and Adrian had chosen the music that played in the car - punk songs that they sang loudly in an attempt to annoy the boys. Their attempt was successful and even managed to bring Wanda to a blush that became fire along her skin when Adrian rested their hand on her upper thigh, occasionally squeezing to the beat of the song.

They dropped off the boys first, reminding them that Natasha and Clint would be picking them up that afternoon, which they both remembered very well. Once they were safely inside the school, Adrian continued their journey toward the satellite compound near Tony’s wooded home. Adrian kept their hand on Wanda’s thigh, oblivious to her burning core as she recalled the events of the previous day that had begun with Natasha’s hand on her thigh.

Natasha thought it was funny to see the two of them in the awkward stage of a relationship, something she'd never had the privilege of seeing. When her and Wanda's relationship had become serious, Adrian came into Wanda's life again. When Natasha met Adrian, they clicked with ease and Natasha was able to see how Adrian was a home for Wanda, a home that she thought Wanda never had. Between the three of them everything came with ease, every interaction felt natural. While Natasha still felt natural with this Wanda, she could tell that Wanda and Adrian did not feel entirely natural about the situation. They have an undeniable chemistry, yes, but they don't know each other. Natasha thought to herself that if they have the opportunity to get to know each other then they might acknowledge their chemistry.

"Where are you going for your date tonight?" Natasha piped up from the back as she continued to observe them. Wanda whipped around, expecting Adrian to answer. Adrian glanced up at the rearview mirror to glance at Natasha with wide eyes.

Adrian clicked their tongue, "I don't know, actually." They were hesitant as they realized that they hadn't thought about where they were going to take Wanda on their impromptu date.

Natasha chuckled, she having a feeling that Adrian didn't know how to go about their date. "How about you guys go to Light? That restaurant on the boardwalk?" She knew this restaurant wouldn't be right and that Adrian would pass on it, but she thought it would spark the idea she hopes for.

"I dunno Nat, I don't remember you or Wanda liking it much, it’s a bit too…prissy."

Bingo, Natasha thought. Adrian heard that, making direct eye contact with Natasha in the mirror. "What about Rita's? That's on the boardwalk, too," Adrian figured out what Natasha was going for.

"Oh! That would be nice, that's where Wanda took us after we closed on the house," Natasha reminisced, hoping that the restaurant would rekindle the connection.

Wanda giggled nervously, "I'm sorry, what's Rita's?" she glanced at Adrian, then back at Natasha as her hand unconsciously moved over Adrian's, giving it a light squeeze in hopes of comfort.

Adrian grinned, biting their lip in thought. "It's uh," they scoffed, "it's a restaurant and bar on the boardwalk-"

"A queer restaurant and bar," Natasha interjected. "That's why Wanda had picked it, she normally didn't like bars otherwise."

"I see," Wanda giggled again, feeling a bit lighter now.

"We'll still get dressed up, though." Adrian glanced at Wanda, her face had turned a lighter shade and she sucked on her lip in thought. Adrian could feel her anxiety start to spike as she thought about what to wear and what to eat and how to act. "Not too dressed up," they started, glancing at Wanda, their eyes pulling her to look at them. "We'll walk around the boardwalk for a bit afterwards. Is that okay, Wands?"

Wanda took a deep breath as she felt Adrian in her mind, trying to ease her discomfort. "Yes, I think that sounds lovely." She smiled at them and then looked back to Natasha, "What are your plans for tonight?"

They were approaching the compound now and Wanda looked out the window, seeing different machines fly out from behind it and come back, being tested in small bursts. "Well, after I'm done here, I'm going with Clint to pick up all of the kids and then the boys and I are going to stay the night with them. They all have a game tomorrow morning. Which-" Natasha switched gears as she started gathering her things to get out of the car. "Ads, will you fill and bring the cooler tomorrow morning?"

Adrian put the car in park as they arrived at the front of the building. Bruce had just stepped out of the main door and waved at the trio. "Yes ma'am, I planned on it," they told her with a smile. Natasha smiled back as she unbuckled.

Natasha leaned forward reaching one hand out to cup the side of their face farthest from her. She pulled their face to her lips and gave her a big, loud kiss on the cheek. "You are the best spouse I could've asked for," she tells them as they turn towards her with a beaming smile.

They kiss her on the lips, "I love you," they whisper to her.

"I love you too," she whispers back before turning to Wanda. "And you, my love," she reaches to pull her in to kiss her cheek in the same manner. "You are the best wife I could've ever asked for," Wanda beams at her as well and cups her cheek to kiss her on the lips. Natasha brushes the hair from Wanda's face and kisses her head before muttering "bye," and making her way out of the outback. Wanda looks out the window, watching as Natasha makes her way towards Bruce. She turns and waves to them, they wave back and she continues, patting Bruce on the arm and making their way inside the compound.

Once Natasha was safely inside, Adrian put the car in drive once more and turned around. Wanda looked out the window, her mind spinning as she saw the trees swimming by. "I really like when she called me that," the words fell out of Wanda's mouth as the thought was released from her mind.

"Hmm?" Adrian hadn't heard at first but after a pause they realized what she meant, "you like being called her wife?" Adrian grinned as they clarified, out of their periphery Wanda blushed, beams exploding from her expression.

"I've never really been called that before," Wanda's voice emitted wonder as she replayed Natasha's words in her mind. The word brought a tingle to her chest and rendered it warm as it swelled with love.

"Well, you're our wife, and an amazing one," Adrian started, slyly glancing over their shoulder to see Wanda's reaction before they continued. "You are so amazing with our boys, Nat can't get over how kind and innocent you are, how much you care about everyone." They paused a moment more, looking at Wanda as they approached a stop sign. When they came to a stop their magnet pulsated and Wanda turned to them, her eyes sparkled in the early morning light. Their heart practically leapt to their throat, begging to be let out with more word vomit - anything to make her this happy all the time. "We're happy you're part of our life Wands."

She fought to tear her eyes away, dabbing at the wetness that had pooled in her eyes. "I'm happy to be in your life," she whispered. Her mind spun with visions of her new family. It felt like the first time that she ever actually got to fantasize about her family. It was different than she thought that it would be, but she was grateful for what it was. She could see Natasha pushing the boys on the tire swing in their front yard, Adrian showing them how to play catch when they were smaller, both of them practicing soccer with the boys. She could see herself reading to them at bedtime, and she imagined what it was like when they were smaller - something she didn't get much time with in her world.

"Ads, what was it like when the boys were smaller?" By now, Adrian had turned back to the road and continued heading back towards town. They tilted their head as they recalled the boys in infancy - how they were fun and sweet but also a little terrifying as their powers blossomed.

“It was interesting,” they sighed in thought, watching the road closely. “They were great babies, they slept through the night early on. Probably because we let them sleep with us,” they chuckled at the thought, Wanda giggled as she pictured the scene. “Their powers weren’t obvious when they were babies, but yours got a little out of control, especially when you were pregnant.”

Wanda looked at them, enamored as scenes flooded her mind. "I wish I could've been there." Adrian looked over, starting to remind her that she was but realizing the error. Their eyes softened as they watched her, still smiling, but sadness prying its way behind her eyes.

They pushed air through their nose as they struggled to decide what to say next. "What was it like for you? I mean, I remember hearing Vision mentioned a few times, were you guys close?"

Wanda scoffed, "Hmph, close. He was the boys' father," she explained watching the road as she half expected Adrian to react similarly to Natasha.

Instead, their eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinted as they continued watching the road. "Oh, I see," they let out a nervous laughter, "how did that work exactly?" They were more polite about their curiosity than Natasha but Wanda knew they were just as confused.

"Well," Wanda swallowed as her throat had suddenly become dry, "it was more my magic than typical biology." She glanced at them, still sensing confusion. "I..." she took a sharp breath, "I was grieving Vis, so I, " a chortle as she hesitated, "I created my own world. I brought Vis back and we lived a domestic life in Westview. And, as time went on, I became pregnant with the boys and had them in probably 24 hours or so. In real time, I mean."

Adrian processed the information quietly, popcorn questions exploding into their mind. "Your magic really is something else, Wands. I wondered what our Wanda was capable of, but there was never an opportunity to find out." Wanda smiled at how calmly they responded to her explanation, it eased her concern that they'd be afraid of her powers.

"Well," she began, watching the now rolling treeless hills fly past them. "It's honestly a burden, probably for the best she never got to use her powers to that extent." Adrian could hear her heavy heart in her words, a feeling rising in them that she'd lost so much because of her powers.

Adrian's hand turned over from her thigh and grabbed her hand, squeezing it in reassurance. "Can I ask you a potentially hard question?" Their tone was unsure as though they were ready for an explosion of emotions if the question was too much.

She giggled in anticipation as she threw a side-long glance in their direction. "Sure, should I prepare for this one?"

They chuckled, "I don't know, maybe?" They took a deep breath, realizing that they were exiting the highway and nearing their first destination. "What happened to Vis? To the boys?" A breath left Wanda's lungs and she sank in her seat. They immediately regretted asking the question and wished their impulsivity would just box itself back up in the back of their mind. After a moment of quiet and pulling into the parking lot of their first destination Adrian spoke, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I understand if-"

"No," she cut them off, closing her eyes to hide the pain from Adrian as she squeezed their hand tightly. "No, I want to tell you." They pulled into a parking spot at the end of the lot, rain drizzling on the window as the wiper swiped it away with a quiet slowness. With Wanda's free hand, she touched the cold window and held her hand to it, letting it burn her skin. It was then that Adrian began to observe her body language with a close eye, shutting their always listening mind off from hers. "It's a long story, but I lost the boys to Agatha, sort of. The world that I created I also had to destroy which meant losing my boys. And Vision, I lost him to-" she sighed, closing her eyes to block out the tears as she felt the power buzzing in her hands, starting to flare out. She took a deep, shaky breath before continuing, "I h-had to kill him...twice, and both times were seemingly for nothing. So..." she pulled her hand from the window and wiped her tears before they fell, her cold skin piercing her eyes.

Her power was still trying to fire from her hands, willing her to explode but she willed it to stop. Adrian took a quiet breath, taking both of her hands in their own and giving them a gentle and comforting squeeze. Their mind was not in hers but their heart felt the pain radiating from her and hoped to give her some relief. "Thank you for telling me, Wands," they whispered as they watched her face as it had sunk inward with her memories. "I'm here for you," a hand gravitated to Wanda's cheek and cupped it, warming them as her cheeks had chilled with the weather. She turned towards them and found herself wandering into their eyes for comfort. She pulled a hand from theirs and laid it on top of their hand on her cheek. Her power, still emitting, faded as it got closer to their hand and disappeared upon contact.

They let her mind stumble into their eyes and Wanda felt her skin warm when she met their comforting gaze. For a second she saw herself in their mind, laying on their chest. Their arm around her shoulders and stroking her curls, their free hand entangled with hers as they talked - the words were blurred and she felt herself focus in on the feelings. Her ear was pressed to their chest, their skin warm against hers and she heard their heartbeat, felt their chest rise and fall. She felt the gentle tug against her hair as they stroked, their hand gently squeezing hers as their thumb rubbed circles along the back of her hand.

Adrian saw that she'd let herself become immersed in the scene and took shallow, shaky breaths as they took in her feelings. They tried to keep her memories out of their head in an attempt to give her privacy but screams protruded through their blocks. Her screams, her pain, the demons in her chest waded through their mind. They cringed as they tried to push them out, eyes screwed shut, which pulled Wanda from the scene. After a moment of confusion, Wanda realized what they'd done and gave a faint smile, her dreary eyes letting light filter out of them as the weight lifted off of her. She wanted to crawl into their lap and wrap her arms around their neck, forcing herself into their embrace- but she thought against it, instead taking one of their hands in her own and bringing it to her lips, giving it a light kiss.

"You didn't have to do that," she whispered, her eyes withdrawn from theirs. They shook their head softly as they whispered to her mind, 'I wanted to.' Her lips curled upward hearing their voice in her head, she never thought that she'd like someone being able to have access to her mind in that way but the more time she spent with them the more she saw that they were quite respectful when it came to letting themselves into peoples' minds.

Adrian started to hear their electricity buzzing again and stole themselves from the moment by clearing their throat. "We should probably get started on our errands if we want to make our date tonight," they told her coolly and she giggled, they were happy to bring her away from the darkness, even if it meant taking it for themselves.

"You're right," she allowed herself to look them in the eyes for a moment before stealing away. "But, first," she looked around for a moment as she felt confusion rise to their face. She took a deep breath as quiet as she could manage before she adjusted in the seat so she was on her knees and bent over, resting her hands on the center console. Their faces were inches apart and she could feel their breath hitch as they gave her a once over before she moved a hand to their upper thigh. The other went to their face and cupped their cheek, pulling them into a kiss.

The kiss was short lived, she pulled away, "thank you," she whispered as her green bore into their hazel. They nodded, letting their tongue poking past their lips as she sat back in her seat. "Ready?" she asked them with a toothy grin, her hand on the door handle. They closed their eyes as a grin made its way up their cheeks, giving her a curt nod as they opened their door and pulled the keys out of the ignition simultaneously.

As Wanda left the car, pulling a hood over her head, Adrian made their way to her side, grabbing her hand and pulling her inside the grocery store to get out of the rain. Wanda realized that they weren't the type to talk more than they needed to, a person of few words. But with her, they seemed willing to talk about any and everything; pointing out interesting things in the store, things they thought she'd like, explaining their tasks for the day, telling her about their family's routine with the store. She adored it, no one had talked to her like this since Vision died. Their kindness towards her gave Wanda a toothache and butterflies simultaneously.

#Wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff fluff #scarlet witch #scarlet witch fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wandanat x reader #mcu #mcu fandom #mcu fanfiction #Universes Away #elizabeth olsen fluff #jodie comer fluff #jodie comer #jodie comer x elizabeth olsen

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 2 years

Text

Mine Now, Little Prince

Prompt: i had a sudden idea for the 'come now, little prince' universe (you do not have to do this if you do not want to :D) roman trades himself back to the heroes (if you can even call them that) to get someone (one of the other sides) back from their clutches. now janus and remus have to go get him back and whoop some ass while they're at it (along with the other sides help ofc) - anon

are you accepting prompts? (feel free to disregard this if you aren't!) your hurt/comfort is legendary and I am a huge fan of your writing. I absolutely ADORED A Thin Line. abandonment + "we never actually forgot about you, it was just really poor planning" hurt/comfort and familial dark sides are just *chef's kiss* would you ever consider writing more hurt/comfort about one of the sides feeling abandoned/alone? maybe one of them gets lost in the dark side or subconscious and thinks the others have left them behind, or an AU where some of them are in foster care and they got split up? - doteddestroyer

Read on Ao3 Part 1 (this is part 4, an alternate ending)

Warnings: implied/referenced torture, mind control/brainwashing, PTSD, agoraphobia

Pairings: roceit, implied DLAMPR

Word Count: 4937

Cities are full of bright lights and shadows alike. Those that live in the light, the heroes, the 'good guys.' Those that live in the shadows, their grisly work only illuminated when the sun deigns to show its face again. Sometimes the shadows are too deep. Sometimes the spotlights are too much.

The Prince, Roman Prince, is the Golden Boy of the city. The newsreels, the cameras, the public adore him. But they don't see the winces when the bulbs go off right in his face, or whispers to be better, do better, perform better from the people that pull him aside after every daring adventure.

No one knows the name Janus, but they know his work. They don't shout, they whisper. They huddle together in the dark, searching for the light so as not to get caught in his coils.

But sometimes, when spotlights are too bright and shadows too flat, a little prince will make its way into the snake's den.

I’m going to unmake you here.

Stay here with me.

I want to keep you.

Roman lies awake, staring at the ceiling.

The Serpent is asleep next to him, and isn’t that one of the most surreal things. He looks over, catching sight of his sleeping face in the half-dark, and swallows.

He can hear their voices in his head.

Kill him. That’s an order.

I can’t. He’s—he’s been nice to me, I can’t.

You are weak for anyone who shows you the slightest kindness. It is your undoing. Kill him.

No. No, I won’t kill him. I can’t.

You are capable of fulfilling this task.

Without his permission, his hands start to twitch and he bites his lip until it bleeds.

“I’m not there,” he mutters under his breath, “I’m not there, I’m not there, I’m not there.”

Perhaps you require excess persuasion.

His eyes snap open again and he just manages to catch himself before bolting upright.

The others. The others are still there. The longer he stays gone the more they’ll be hurt.

He risks one more look at the Serpent.

He aches.

The Serpent has been kind. The Serpent has been gentle. He—he saw Remus again, he promised that he could stay, that he wouldn’t be hurt anymore, that he could be safe.

The lure of safety is like tar, dragging him down into the pits of hope and sinking him deeper and deeper. The bed, still sleep-warm, calls to him, the covers unwilling to slide off his shoulders as he slowly sits up. The stitches tug in his chest, the slight pain a sweet reminder of how soft the Serpent has been with him.

“It’s alright, now, little prince,” he hears distantly, “let me look after you.”

He wants. He wants.

And that’s why he has to leave.

You are not to want, they drilled into him, you are here to carry out orders.

“My life is not my own,” Roman repeats in a strangled whisper, “keep my hands off of it.”

He looks down at his hands. They lie there limply in the low light, so innocuous despite the great violence they’re capable of. He swallows as his wrists begin to tingle.

He took so many precautions when he came here that night. He ditched his suit, ditched the trackers, even carved the one out of his leg to ensure they couldn’t look for him. He wasn’t too optimistic about his chances of surviving that night, but he knew where he was going.

But as his wrists tingle, dread rises in his throat.

There’s never just one contingency plan. There will be others. He’s—they told him it was just in the suit but what if it isn’t? What if it’s in him, what if they made him as much of a machine for them to control as the suit was? What if they’re just waiting, biding their time, drawing out this little fantasy until they can yank the carpet from under him again?

What if they make him kill Remus?

Roman grits his teeth and starts to move.

I’m sorry, he thinks as he carefully slips from the bedroom, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

But he is not a valuable prize to be won. He is not worth the effort it would take to piece this broken shell back together. He is not worthy to be anything other than a footnote of failure in the Serpent’s history.

He doesn’t deserve to call Remus his brother.

He disarms the security with practiced hands, not slick with blood this time, and rearms it as soon as he’s through. He spares one last look at the closed door before taking a deep breath and heading out into the dark city.

He makes it about halfway before the tears start rolling down his cheeks.

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

Janus’s first mistake was assuming Roman was in the bathroom.

When he’d woken up alone in the bed, part of him had worried that the little prince was hurt, hiding somewhere because he didn’t believe that Janus was truly helping him, caring for him. He’d glanced around the closet and the side of the bed, and when he’d found nothing, guessed that Roman had to use the bathroom.

His security was still on, after all.

His second mistake was not calling Remus as soon as he realized Roman wasn’t in the bathroom.

Instead, he wastes five minutes tearing the apartment to pieces, hoping that somehow the little prince had wedged himself into a horrible hiding place and he could soften, gently scold him for scaring him as he pulled him out and tended to the wound in his chest.

But Roman is gone.

How dare he, the snake hisses as he whips out his phone, was it all a lie? Some great plot?

But no. Even as the thought crosses his mind, Janus knows it’s not true. The little prince couldn’t tell a lie to save his life, he wouldn’t be capable of faking something like that. He may be an excellent actor—a better one than Janus gave him credit for—but he isn’t that.

No, the little prince had left sometime last night and Janus doesn’t know why.

Just like he doesn’t know why Remus isn’t picking up the phone.

It comes perilously close to ringing out before Remus finally picks up. Janus opens his mouth to tear him apart when he hears what can only be a muffled sob coming from Remus’s end.

“I don’t know,” Remus’s voice comes again Janus’s heart clenches, “I don’t know where he went. He—he must’ve left between 2:30 and 2:50, but I don’t—“

“Here,” Janus interrupts swiftly, “now.”

The line clicks and Janus takes a deep breath.

Not now, he thinks as he slowly puts the apartment back to rights and pours himself a cup of tea, not on Remus.

This isn’t Remus’s fault. Certainly it was his job to maintain Janus’s security, but he’s learned not to underestimate his little prince and if he really wanted to leave…

And it’s obvious Remus feels bad enough about it as it is.

No, he will save this anger, hone it. And when he finds out what made Roman leave, he will use every bit of it to ensure nothing ever harms his little prince again.

Remus stumbles through the door not ten minutes later, falling to his knees and bowing his head.

“I can’t find him,” he whispers in that horrible, horrible voice, “I checked every record but they were scrubbed clean. We’ve ruled out the city pass and the underground, so there’s no guarantee he made it across the water, but—“

Remus chokes off as Janus uses his staff to carefully tilt his chin up.

Remus is a wreck. His hair is even more crazed than normal, his nose a bright red and his mouth trembling. His hands are fidgeting on his legs and his eyes are swollen, rimmed red, and still threatening to leak tears.

“I’m sorry,” he manages against the staff by his throat, “I’m sorry.”

Janus’s fingers twitch on the staff, keeping his expression inscrutable. He can think of a thousand different punishments for Remus, ones that would leave him a broken shell for daring to let Roman slip through his fingers. He can think of all the times Remus himself has inflicted those punishments, can see the way Remus’s shoulders go limp that he’s imagining the same thing.

But Janus is not the people who hurt Remus, and he never will be.

And as he looks at Remus, begging on his knees, he fights the urge to smile as a thought flickers across his mind.

They really are twins.

Remus gasps as the staff disappears and Janus sinks to his knees in front of him. A gloved hand tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck and Janus pulls him close.

“We will find him,” he promises in a low voice, “we will get him back and he will never disappear from us again.”

Remus stares at him, eyes wide, and the poor thing looks so much like Roman that Janus hisses, letting their foreheads rest together for a moment before he feels the pit of panic in Remus’s stomach turn to rage.

“Good,” he murmurs, “stay there.”

He pulls back, fixing Remus with a look.

“You know your brother better than anyone else,” he says firmly, “where did he go and why?”

“I’ve not known him for years.”

“That doesn’t change a thing.” Janus stares at him. “Where did he go and why, Remus?”

Remus furrows his brow, thinking hard. “The others.”

“Others?”

“The ones I told you about. If he’s gone anywhere, he’s gone back to them.”

Janus’s eyes widen. “But that means…”

“Yeah.” Remus’s expression darkens. “That means he’s gone back to them too.”

Oh, this stupid, noble, selfless little prince…

Of course. Of course. If there were others in danger, especially if they were in danger because Roman was gone, he’d’ve gone back for them.

Janus snarls and stands up, only belatedly realizing he’s still gripping Remus’s hair when he yanks him up too. He smooths his hand over his neck as an apology before he stalks to the window.

“Their location,” he says, voice already back under control, “did you find it?”

Remus straightens. “Yes. But it’s a wall of security from here to Sunday, there’s no way we’ll be able to slip through.”

Janus glances down at his wrist. There’s still a little bit of blood on the very end. Roman’s blood.

“The others,” he asks, “will they get sent out the same way Roman was?”

“Probably. Though they’ll want to brag that they have Roman again before too long.”

“They’ll need to wait for him to heal.” He shifts. “Can’t have their Golden Boy looking anything less than perfect.”

“But that means it’ll take a while.”

The certainty in Remus’s voice makes him turn. Something dark flashes across his expression.

“They’ll punish him,” he says in a low, almost resigned voice, “for not coming back and receiving help.”

Oh, will they now?

“And they’ll have used the others,” Remus continues, only slightly aware of the rage brewing beneath Janus’s skin, “if…if Roman’s still who I remember, they’ll…”

He swallows with difficulty.

“If Roman isn’t cooperating, the others are the ones who’ll get hurt first.”

“Then we need to find them. Quickly.”

Janus turns back to the window as Remus leaves. His hands tighten.

Somewhere out there, his little prince is in danger.

Get him back, the snake hisses as he stalks about the den, get him back, get him safe, then make those who took him pay.

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

“The parameters of your assignment were clear.”

“I understand.”

“You were not supposed to kill anyone.”

“I understand.”

“You disobeyed orders.”

“I disobeyed orders.”

“And so Logic, Stormcloud, and Heartbeat shall be punished.”

“What? No, no, I’m the one who messed up, why—“

“You do not question.”

“But I’m the one who screwed up! They had nothing to do with it! Don’t hurt them!”

“You do not question.”

“Stop! Stop it! Stop it, you’re hurting them! You’re—stop!”

“Every time you question, the levels will increase.”

“Stop!”

“Level increased.”

“No, no, you’re hurting them, you’re hurting them, stop, stop, stop—!”

“Level increased.”

“You’ll kill them!”

“We are fully aware of their limitations. Level increased.”

“Stop, stop—look, I’ll do whatever you want, you can have me, you can do whatever you want to me, I came back—I came back, see?”

“Level—“

“Please!”

“—increased.”

“…please, please, I’ll do whatever you want, just let them go, let them go, please…”

“Will you comply?”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll comply, just do whatever you want with me, just let them go, don’t hurt them anymore, let them go, please.”

“You will comply in exchange for their freedom.”

“…yes.”

“Repeat instructions.”

“I will…I will comply in exchange for their freedom.”

“Place your hands on the block.”

“…”

“Place your hands on the block or the levels will increase.”

“There, there, see? I did it.”

“The others will be released and you will proceed. Understood?”

“…understood.”

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

It doesn’t take long for the Serpent’s Web to start closing in on the compound. Janus is patient, watching the little threads dance this way and that, watching supply chains start to change, start to shift, start to reflect the inclusion of one more person within the solid walls. Remus is at his heels, growling and snapping at the things that wander too far into the shadows, chasing down the fleeting light of the little prince.

But Roman has always been too good at getting away from him.

Not this time, little prince.

So it only comes as a partial shock when Remus calls him and informs him that there are three guests waiting for him at the abandoned sweet factory downtown.

He arrives with caution, his men patrolling the outskirts as the driver pulls the car to a safe getaway location. He adjusts his gloves and his hat, letting the click of his staff precede him as he walks into the darkness.

He can see Remus’s silhouette under the light, a gun in his hand, three figures crouched in front of him. He can’t see the glint of shackles around their wrists, perhaps they’re the type to be subdued by simply the threat of a gun.

They flinch slightly as they hear him coming, a few of them glancing over their shoulders—or trying to before Remus reminds them that he’s the one they should be looking at.

“Well,” he purrs, drawing closer, “what have we here?”

“It’s them,” Remus says quietly, the gun hanging looser at his side, “the others.”

That’s enough for Janus to walk a little faster, quickly rounding the leftmost one to stand at Remus’s side. His eyes widen when he sees the three heroes on the ground, each looking like they’ve been fed through a bricklayer backward. They’re not restrained, he realizes, because they’re not going to be able to go much of anywhere anyway.

“Serpent,” Logic says, trying valiantly to keep the tremor out of his voice, “we aren’t here to fight.”

Janus hums. “Not that it would be much of one.”

He uses his staff to tilt up his chin, tutting as he takes in the injuries.

“You must’ve made someone angry.”

The three of them flinch and he moves the staff away. Even Remus tenses.

“You’re here because of Roman,” he says, cutting through the pretenses, “yes?”

Heartbeat nods. “He…he traded himself for us.”

“…’traded?’”

“He’s not supposed to stay out after assignments,” Stormcloud mutters, “especially when he’s disobeyed.”

“And he…disobeyed?”

“He wasn’t supposed to kill anyone,” Logic says, “and…”

“And the head of the beast died,” Remus finishes, “and they blamed Roman for it.”

Janus’s hands twitch on the staff. He raises his voice, calling out to the henchmen waiting in the shadows. “Chairs. And a kit.”

The three heroes watch warily as scuttles in the darkness fill the warehouse before snapping back as Janus carefully approaches Stormcloud.

“Let me see,” he says softly, holding out his hand, “your arm looks bad.”

Stormcloud eyes him warily. Janus sighs, carefully lowering himself and ignoring how fearful they look that he’s willing to get down on their level.

“Let me see,” he repeats, “please?”

It’s like coaxing a feral alley cat to him, watching Stormcloud slowly extend his arm. Janus runs his fingers carefully over the wound before grasping his hand and slowly pulling him up.

He moves to Logic, holding out his hand again. This one takes it a little quicker.

“Up you get now,” he coaxes, “the floor can’t be very comfortable.”

By the time he gets to Heartbeat, the chairs have arrived. He gestures for them to sit and tries not to roll his eyes at how much trepidation is still in their gazes.

“Look,” he says, sitting in his own chair, “see? Just sit.”

When they all scramble to sit down, he bites back a curse. These poor things just came from the same place Roman and Remus did, of course they’re wary of everything.

Be gentle, he reminds himself, these are the little prince’s protected.

Of course, he’s not thrilled that Roman went and traded himself for them, but if the way Remus relaxes just the slightest bit is any indication, they’re no more guilty than Roman is of what atrocities have been done to them.

“Do you need medical attention,” he asks, gentle, careful, always careful, “are any of them life-threatening?”

They shake their heads. Stormcloud rubs his shoulder. “They know our limits.”

And there’s a whole new terrifying set of implications. “You mentioned that Roman…traded himself for you?”

Heartbeat nods. He looks about two seconds from crying. “If one of us messes up, normally the others are, um…get the punishment.”

“A tactic to prevent us from forming alliances,” Logic continues, “or to weaponize what would be kindness against us.”

“And did it work?”

“No,” Stormcloud grits out, “because we’re all we have.”

“Roman took it the worst,” Heartbeat said, “he—he would always try and take it. Whatever it was, he’d—he’d say he’d do it.”

“They evaluated him as the strongest. They didn’t care what happened to him as long as he could still perform.”

“They’d send him out all the time, even when he—“

“They’d bench us for less and they knew it, so they let Roman—“

“They’d let him do it.”

Janus holds a hand up. “One at a time, my dears, I can’t understand you when you all talk at once.”

They all snap quiet, huddling in on themselves.

“I’m not angry,” he says, soothing the raging beast in his chest with low murmurs of soon, soon, “I just want to ensure I’m understanding you.”

He looks to Heartbeat. “Is that what was happening when Roman returned?”

The little one nods. “He…he was trying to make them stop.”

“And did they?”

“If…he said he’d comply and they…they let us go.”

Janus frowns. If it was that easy to make them stop, surely Roman would’ve done something like that before. “What does that entail, exactly?”

Stormcloud speaks next. “They, um…what did Roman tell you?”

“Not as much as he should have.”

“Don’t be mad at him,” Logic whispers, “he’s just—he wasn’t sure he could—he—“

“I’m not mad at him, sweetie, shh.”

Stormcloud swallows. “They…our suits have…controls in them.”

“Controls?”

“Mechanical enhancers,” Logic says, “a sort of remote control that attaches to muscle stimulators in the suits. They can…they’re supposed to ensure that if we get injured, the suits can help stabilize us until we can receive assistance.”

Remus growls low in his throat. Janus adjusts his grip on the staff. “And what do they actually do?”

Logic’s hands twitch. “They…they make us proceed.”

“Proceed?” Janus lets out a low soothing noise when all three of them flinch horribly. “Easy, my dears, what’s the matter?”

“Don’t—don’t say the word,” Stormcloud whispers, “it’s—it’s their word.”

He files that away. “Alright, I won’t. I won’t say it.”

Slowly, painfully slowly, the three of them relax, each eyeing Janus with a new glint of curiosity.

“You’re not like what they said you were,” Heartbeat mumbles, “they…”

“I hesitate to ask what they did say,” Janus murmurs, trying to lighten their spirits, “though I can’t imagine it was very complimentary.”

Remus snorts. “Your PR department might disagree.”

Stormcloud raises an eyebrow. “You have a PR department?”

“He’s got like three journalists that all run on Red Bull and spite.”

“…same though.”

Janus clears his throat. “I won’t say the word. Is there…anything else?”

Too much, he thinks as he watches the three of them curl back in on themselves. He switches tactics.

“So your suits?”

Logic nods, getting himself back together. “They…they can essentially puppet us to do what they command. But it’s only our bodies. They can’t—they can’t make us do it.”

I have a very bad feeling as to where this is heading.

“But Roman…”

He trails off.

Behind him, Remus muffles a curse. “That motherfucker did it?”

“He said he’d do it if they let us go, Remus, we—“

“We couldn’t stop him.”

“We didn’t ask for it, you gotta believe us—“

“Roro, you fucking idiot.”

“Did what,” Janus asks sharply, “what did Roman agree to?”

“A neurological alteration,” Logic says in a strangled whisper, “he…they change your brain chemicals. It’s a complete neurological override, they can—they can—“

“They can make you do anything,” Stormcloud says, “and make you believe that it was you who decided to do it.”

There is a ringing distant in his ears, he registers, something far, far away. His emotions are sealed behind a solid sheet of glass, as if they weren’t even a part of him.

He’s only experienced this kind of disconnect once before.

Not the little prince. Never the little prince.

Mine, the snake hisses as its coils tighten around the city, mine.

When he speaks, his voice is cool and calm. He can see the three of them tense, pulling away from him. Even Remus goes still.

“Roman Prince is in danger,” he says evenly, “and I will get him back.”

The warehouse is silent.

“To do that, I will need your help.”

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

Not yet, the snake says as the other heroes start to appear in the media, covering bruises and hiding flashes of fear. The public starts to worry that something is wrong.

Not yet, the snake murmurs as supply chains to the city begin to dry up, the compound growing more and more isolated as the companies begin to draw away. Whispers from the inside, saying that something’s wrong, something’s coming.

Not yet, the snake insists when the Prince still doesn’t reappear. The public says that it’s different, something’s changed without him, something’s wrong.

Soon, he whispers when the others start dropping hints in the interviews they give to the press.

Soon, as the coils begin to tighter further and further and the leash on the Prince starts to loosen.

Soon, as he lets a camera catch sight of him one day, raising his hand in a wave before disappearing back into the shadows.

And on the night when the media runs a story about the horrors hidden in the compound, when the other heroes are safe behind friendlier walls, when Remus grins and screams with the weight of a thousand tortured should behind him, the snake leans down and whispers.

Now.

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

BREAKING NEWS: Compound found destroyed on the outskirts of the city. Officials have identified it as belonging to the Cyrus Corporation.

Technicians have identified several victims of the blast, including those that claim they were being held hostage for human experiments. They have also found records pertaining to several of the city’s heroes, including Logic, Heartbeat, Stormcloud, and the Prince. Were these heroes the results of these experiments?

While the other heroes have begun to speak out against the Cyrus Corporation, the Prince has seemingly disappeared. Was he killed in the aftermath of the incident, or is he still hiding something?

A calling card of the Serpent was found at the scene, implying a connection between the destruction of the compound and the disappearances of the heroes. We’ll have more of the story after the break.

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

“Sweetie,” he hears a voice whispering, “sweetie, it’s alright.”

Someone is screaming. He wishes they’d stop, it’s making his head hurt.

“Shh, shhh, my darling, it’s alright. I have you, you’re safe now, I’ve got you.”

They’re still screaming. Why does his throat hurt?

“Please, sweetie, come on, now…”

Everything crashes over Roman in a tidal wave. He’s screaming. His throat is aching. His entire body is on fire.

Someone is cradling his head. Someone is murmuring softly to him. Someone is here, protecting him.

“Open your eyes, my darling, let me see you.”

He opens his eyes.

The Serpent is staring down at him, concern written plainly across his face. No, no, that doesn’t make sense, he betrayed the Serpent, why is the Serpent looking at him like that?

“Shh, little prince—“ right, he’s still screaming— “shh, it’s okay.”

The Serpent’s shoulders slump when he finally shuts up, smiling and brushing the hair back from his sweaty brow.

“There you are, little prince,” he murmurs, “you had me worried.”

Roman is frozen. He’s here with the Serpent after he betrayed him, all but spat in his face, and he—he messed up, he messed up so badly, don’t hurt them, please—

“Shh,” the Serpent murmurs, a hand tangled in his hair, scratching at his scalp, “it’s just me, little prince, just me. I won’t hurt you.”

“I—I—“

His voice is horribly strangled.

“Here,” comes the gentle voice, too gentle for him, “drink, sweetie.”

A straw is held to his lips and he cautiously sips. The Serpent hums and pulls away the cup when he’s had about half the glass.

“Good.”

A full-blown shudder wreaks havoc on Roman’s aching body and the Serpent chuckles.

“Oh, little prince,” he whispers, leaning down and cupping Roman’s cheek, “you poor thing, you poor, poor thing…”

Why isn’t the Serpent mad? He should be, he—Roman ruined everything, he put everyone at risk, he got his friends hurt, he hurt everyone else, he never stops ruining everything and hurting everyone, everything’s his fault, he should’ve just listened, he should’ve just—

“That’s enough, now, little prince,” the Serpent murmurs, and he realizes he’s just said all of that out loud, “that’s enough.”

“I’m sorry,” Roman stammers, “I’m sorry—I’m sorry—“

“Shh-shh-shh, none of that.” The Serpent brushes a tear from his face. “I’m not angry with you, sweetie, you’re alright.”

“Wh-why?”

The Serpent opens his mouth to answer but Roman’s already stammering again.

“I’m not questioning you, I’m not—“

“Hush, my darling,” the Serpent says, laying a finger over his lips, “you’re not there. You’re with me, you’re safe, and you won’t be harmed. Shh, let me talk for a moment, alright?”

Roman hushes.

“Thank you.” The Serpent takes a breath. “You are safe. Your friends are safe. Remus is safe. I am safe. The people who hurt you will never hurt you again. The compound is gone, the Cyrus Corporation is gone. Nothing will touch you again.”

Roman stares at him.

It’s…gone?

All of it?

“Yes,” the Serpent promises, “all of it.”

Everything stops. They’d been in his head, in his body, in his skin for as long as he can remember. They’ve been there as he breathed, as he slept, as he lived, and now they’re just…gone?

“H-how?”

The Serpent smiles. “With a little help from our friends, of course.”

“They’re…” He swallows. “…they’re okay?”

“Yes, little prince, they’re fine. Remus is fine.” He ruffles Roman’s hair. “Everyone’s okay.”

And lets out a soft noise when Roman starts to bawl.

“Oh, sweetie, come here…come here, little prince, I’ve got you. Shh, shh, everything’s alright now.”

They’re gone. It’s over.

It’s over.

“Yes, little prince,” the Serpent promises, “it’s over now.”

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

“I still,” Roman mumbles when the Serpent sets a cup of tea in front of him, “have trouble.”

“Believing?”

He nods as the Serpent sits down in the chair opposite him. He looks down at his hands. “It’s not that I don’t want to o-or that I don’t believe you, but—“

“Shh, sweetie, it’s okay. I understand. You’ve been through something extremely traumatizing.” The Serpent regards him carefully. “It’s going to take a while to heal from it.”

Roman watches ripples form across the surface of the tea. “…sometimes I still don’t know if this is real. Or another trick.”

“What if you had something,” the Serpent asks, “something that they would’ve had no way of knowing? Would that help?”

“…maybe.”

The Serpent hums, sitting forward. “What about my name?”

Roman’s head jerks around, eyes wide. The Serpent just smiles at him. “Wh-what?”

“My name, little prince,” the Serpent murmurs, “if I told you my name. They don’t know it, you would be able to hold onto it. If you wanted.”

Oh.

Roman nods slowly. The Serpent smiles and holds out an ungloved hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, little prince,” he says, “my name is Janus.’”

“Janus,” he repeats, testing how it feels, “nice to m-meet you.”

Janus smiles. “Will you stay with me, little prince?”

“Will you…keep me?”

“Forever,” Janus promises, “if you want.”

Yes.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@reddstardust@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #roman sanders #roman angst #roman sanders angst #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders

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itsbenedict · 1 year

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Two-Faced Jewel: Thunderbrush 9

Get Hype For Warball!

A conwoman disguised as a noble and the delegation of university students studying her have arrived in the jungle city of Thunderbrush, ruled by ancient dryads and organized crime. Will they manage to stay uninvolved in shady conspiracies? (No.)

Story so far | Session log index | Previous session

Last time, the party followed up their experimentation with a spot of good old-fashioned book-learnin', at the local library. What they found was a vandalized and censored book of necromancy, and had to answer some pointed questions from the chief student advisor on their choice of research subject.

The next day... is the day of the Big Game.

That morning, Looseleaf is the first to wake up. Saelhen's a late sleeper- it'll be a couple hours before she gets out of bed and joins the fun, lying there in bed doing nothing whatsoever. W̡ei͏r͝d!̷

Looseleaf starts off the day with a spot of research- using her spirit sight to "see" through the ink censoring the pages of the necromancy textbook. It becomes clear that what's being censored isn't so much... the resource used by necromancy, so much as how that resource is handled. The ecumenes- the church/government hybrids that run much of society- are the ones who typically handle necrotic energy/thanergy/death essence/black mana.

Black mana is, apparently, used by the churches for resurrection rituals. It's no secret that the gods can raise the dead- but they're very cagey about the process and the restrictions that exist on that process, and what Looseleaf is discovering is that it requires a supply of necrotic energy to perform- which the gods can't just produce on their own, for some reason.

Looseleaf puts her studies aside for now- what's left is practical exercises, and Saelhen has been declared Chief Looseleaf Safety Officer and is currently no longer conscious.

Instead, she decides to get ready for the Big Game! She telepathically messages Oyobi- and Zzaiya, their waspfolk friend whose keys got stole earlier. Zzaiya seems to have been hoping they'd forget the invitation to watch the Big Game together, but acquiesces to being dragged to this sporting event/large social gathering, as her social anxiety vis-a-vis seeming rude outweighs her introversion.

En route...

Sounds like the Blacksky team is having some trouble with sabotage, despite the heavily-warded door and security magic around the locker room! Looseleaf's first instinct is to telepathically contact Orluthe via the soul-linked coin she provided him... only to immediately notice that Orluthe is like, right there, thirty feet away.

Looseleaf relays the situation she overheard to them- apparently, someone's slipped laxatives to some of the players, and they're doubled over and unable to play.

Oyobi, apparently, has been unsuccessfully trying to woo the team's Sword, Reef Blastbody, for some time- and she was considering trying to impress him by concocting an excuse to join the Warball team and show him her moves. Seems like someone got the exact same idea, for some reason, and decided to cause drama.

(Players reading this! You can probably solve this mystery, now! The culprit needed to be a student from Blacksky University to get past the wards, had the opportunity and means to eavesdrop on Oyobi's joke, and likes to pull pranks and cause lots of interpersonal drama for questionable reasons! Perhaps a potential culprit leaps to mind?)

Looseleaf and Oyobi announce themselves- and the team, friends of Oyobi's, let them in in a hurry.

From left to right:

Bud Chestplate, team Tank and team leader. She's huge and friendly and wields a giant shield the size of a parking space.

Flint Ironstag, team Flanker. He's hotheaded and easily pumped up by the first idea anyone suggests.

Buff Drinklots, team Healer. She's crabby and speaks in an utterly impenetrable dwarven accent.

Smash Lampjaw, team Sniper. He's dutiful and speaks in a differently-impenetrable word salad full of made-up vocabulary.

Reef Blastbody, team Sword. He's paranoid and condescending and has magical water powers.

Butch Deadlift (the team Interceptor) and Koboshi Gyuuniku (an elvish name which translates to Fist Beefmeat, the team Tankbuster) have been poisoned and are totally incapacitated, right before the Big Game!

Luckily, the only requirement for participation is that the members of the Blacksky team by Blacksky students... so Oyobi volunteers herself and Looseleaf as replacement Warball players!

...But Reef is having none of it. He's the paranoid sort, and thinks it's way too suspicious that two of their players get poisoned and then two more players just happen to show up to fill in! What were even the odds that they'd be here in the first place? He doesn't trust this for a second!

I... may or may not have written up the Warball exposition by the time I post this, but basically: to fill in as party mage, in a sport where everyone uses special armor and nonlethal weapons, she can't use actual deadly magic on the field. She needs to at least see the tools she'll have at her disposal to figure out if her magical talents are at all applicable to the job at hand.

Luckily, it turns out Looseleaf's spirit abilities mean she can scan and figure out the workings of this wand pretty easily!

...But she does have one other idea, which is just using her unique magic healing to just fix the laxatives problem. Which she goes to try, but, uh... the team's coach, Dry Forest Ablaze, objects immediately when it turns out she's not actually a cleric. Alternative healing methods, on his athletes? Right before the semifinals?! They'd get disqualified in a heartbeat! Experimental magical performance enhancing right before a game?

And Reef points out that the room's soundproofing isn't working, either, and this must be the trap! Disqualify the other team by catching them doping right before a game! It's a honeypot!

No, it's going to have to be done the old-fashioned way- so the team starts going over strategy. First off: taking inventory of the team's abilities!

This, plus...

And Oyobi, whose character sheet is pretty much as it is normally. Which was my first mistake, because I assumed Saelhen would be playing (rather than Farn temporarily playing Oyobi during combat), and didn't consider the impact of her abilities on the game balance.

See... they come up with a pretty hilarious cheese strat. Here are some facts:

Oyobi has an ability that's a holdover from D&D- the Colossus Slayer ranger ability, which in this system lets her do double damage to things that are more than twice her max HP.

Holding the Warball doubles your HP and damage.

She also has Hunter's Mark, which in this system lets her ignore evasion and cover with her arrow shots if she can get it off.

In Warball, player HP can be freely reassigned from a pool of 120 total hit points for the team, since it represents abstract "hit points" in magic game armor and not physical durability.

The captain has a huge-ass shield that serves as portable cover.

So the strategy is as follows: assign Oyobi exactly enough hit points to have at most half of the recommended minimum in the current meta, turning on her damage-doubler against every opposing player. Somehow. Don't ask how that works diegetically. Then, give her the Warball- usually held by the tank/captain to improve their survivability and prevent it being captured by the other team- to double her damage again. With two damage doublers on, use Hunter's Mark to negate enemy cover and defenses, and then hit the weak point for massive damage to oneshot the whole enemy team one by one before they can even close the distance, while having the rest of the team focus on defending the DPS.

Does this... work? Find out next time!

#twofaced jewel #tfj log

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chososheart · 3 years

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Trainwreck - Eren Jaeger (1)

Chapter one: A wreck

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Reader

Series summary: Reader is an 18-year-old, high school student. On her way to school one day, she meets a boy on the train. Will their train, wreck or will they somehow make it work?

Info on Reader: Reader is a logical person. She's organized and tidy. She uses logic and common sense when she makes choices. Some events in her life and some people in her life will cause her to question her sanity as she no longer can differentiate if she's using her heart or brain.

Info on Eren Jaeger on this book: Eren doesn't think. He uses his heart to express himself. If he feels like something is wrong, he will act on those feelings. He's very emotional and speaks his mind. There haven't been many times when Eren felt regret after acting on his emotions; until he met you.

word count: 2.5k

see masterlist | navigation | read previous chapter | read next chapter

It's Thursday morning, 7:01 AM to be exact.

You're late.

You're running across the quiet streets of England. It's a grey, cloudy day—and if you hadn't spent the last 4 years of your life living here, you'd have something else—other than being late—to worry about.

You're usually very organized, always on time, always presentable. But at the moment, you find yourself running through quiet, lonely streets at 7:02 AM like a madwoman; messy untucked uniform, and no makeup on.

You run down a flight of stairs, jumping at the last three steps. After you pay for your ticket you rush to your stop that had to have left 7 minutes ago by now.

"Thank god," you sight at the view in front of you. Train still there, with its doors opened.

The doors don't look like closing anytime soon—due to the multiple men and women in suits walking through them—but you still quickly join the crowded area, just in case.

You take the seat that's next to the doors, settle your backpack next to your left arm, take a deep breath and pull out your cell phone.

You check your 'reminders' app, just to make sure you don't forget anything important you have to do today. You also stay on it a bit longer than necessary because it's a 7 o'clock train to London. There are high school and university students everywhere and you're very much intimidated by them.

After a while, you look at the seat in front of you and see a chocolaty, brown-haired boy looking down at his phone through furrowed brows. It takes you a minute but you recognize him. He always takes this train with his other two friends... who aren't with him, again.

The blond boy with the sweet ocean eyes and the black-haired girl with the red scarf around her neck. It's been like this for a few days now and you can't help but wonder, what happened?

They go to the same high school as you, so you've gotten used to seeing them every day—on the train at least. But for the last couple of days, you haven't seen them together at all, actually, you haven't seen them around him at all.

You take your eyes off him and search around from left to right to see if you can find them.

You see them to the far right of the train, all the way near another set of doors. They're holding on to the metal bars, while surrounded by some adults on their phones. You notice the black-haired girl stealing a few glances at the brunet in front of you.

You look at him again.

Legs parted, right leg twitching up and down while he's slouched forward with both elbows resting on his knees. He has his phone in his hand, earphones plugged in, and the wire in his mouth.

He's wearing your school's male uniform with a few accessories. A few silver rings on his fingers, a short silver chain on his neck, and a golden key necklace.

His hair is about chin length and in a middle part, his two front bangs tucked behind his ear.

You look back at the other two and notice the black-haired girl, now burying her face in her scarf as she looks at him.

Your curiosity grows.

It's none of your business but you can't help but wonder what the fuck happened?

You follow the black-haired girl's gaze and your eyes land on him once again.

You start thinking of when those 3 became so distant. They stopped sitting near each other maybe a week ago, but there had to have been some tension before that, right?

Though they go to the same school as you, are in the same year as you, and are even in some classes with you; you don't know much about them—you don't even know their names.

You know the brunet in front of you is friends with a well-known boy in your grade, Jean. You also know that he's been recently spending more time with Jean and his friends—but that's about it. He keeps to himself I guess.

He lifts his eyes from his phone and finds yours.

You freeze.

You notice his jade green-colored eyes, thick dark eyelashes, and the few crinkles at the ends of his eyes. He's beautiful.

His mouth moves as he takes his right earphone out and keeps his eyes on you.

You don't hear it.

"What the fuck?" you accidentally say, loud enough for him to hear it.

He frowns.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you," you say.

"I said, can I help you with something?" Same judgemental look on his face.

It irks you. "What makes you think that?" you confidently speak, giving him the same attitude he's been giving you.

He blinks.

His lips slightly curve upwards and he tilts his head to the right. "You've been staring at me for the last, I don't know, 10 minutes now? Surely you must need some sort of help."

Your eyes slightly widen and fall on the ground. Your cheeks feel hot. That's so embarrassing for you.

He lets out a low, breathy laugh as he shakes his head.

You face your phone again and start texting your friend. You don't have any data, so you know she won't receive the messages, but you don't think the reminders app can save you this time.

He puts his earphone back on, noticing the conversation isn't going anywhere, and goes back to doing what he was before.

You explain everything that's happened to her, as an attempt to make time go faster, but it doesn't work.

What were 20 minutes felt like an eternity. You swear time has stopped. The awkward tension between you two was suffocating. You went from feeling your cheeks turn hot to feeling sweat dripping down your lower back. Damn, all this for a man? Megan would be disappointed.

The doors of the train open and you realize that you were so out of it, you didn't feel it stop, or hear the uncompressible voice telling the passengers they've arrived at their destination.

You turn to your left, grab your backpack and quickly get out. You start power walking and when you feel the fresh, chilly wind hit your face, you immediately feel at ease.

Shortly after you left, the brown-haired boy got up and started walking down the same path as you.

He glances behind him and catches the blond boy walking slightly faster than usual, leaving the black-haired girl behind, with a worried look on her face. It looked as if he was trying to catch up to him.

The boy didn't feel like dealing with them; he looks forward and sees you calmly walking towards a big flight of stairs, leaving the train station.

He quickly jogs to catch up to you—the sight making the blond boy with the ocean blue eyes, stop in his tracks and look back at the black-haired girl, with saddened eyes. He gives her a small smile as he walks back to meet her.

When the brunet catches up to you, he bumps you with his elbow. "You're ____ right? You're friends with Hitch?"

You jump from the surprise and look back to where he was supposed to be. "I-, yeah," you say as you face him, still shocked at how quickly he managed to creep up to you. "How'd you know?"

"I've seen you around with her." He shrugs, with his hands in his front pockets.

"Oh, and you're friends with Jean, right?" you say, trying to avoid any awkward silences.

He looks forward with his nose scrunched. "I mean, we barely tolerate each other but yeah, sure."

"Oh, sorry. You guys look like you're so close.”

"You like creeping on me, huh?" he laughs.

"Would you let it go? And you wish I would.”

He puts his hands up in an innocent manner. "I don't know, I don't remember appreciating the way you undressed me with your eyes."

You gape at him. You can't help but wonder what face you made when you stared at him earlier on the train.

"I was thinking about—something!"

"Yeah, sure." He looks forward, a smug smile plastered on his face.

"Not my fault there's not much of that happening underneath that ridiculous Karen haircut of yours," you say, wanting to wipe that annoying smirk off his face.

It worked.

"Ayo, that's not true! Take it back!"

You laugh.

"What were you even thinking about for that long, anyway?" he says, adjusting his hair.

"Um... do you have a class with Mr. Zacharias?"

"Yeah, I'm in your class."

"You ARE?"

How the fuck did you not notice him? You knew he was in your maths class—but you had no idea he took Mr. Zacharias' class with you. You assumed he attended his class at a different period. You wonder how many classes he attends with you.

"YoU aRe?" he mocks.

You elbow him.

"Well, yeah I am, what about him?" he asks.

You hear a street buzzer signal you that it's safe for pedestrians to cross the street.

"I was, um, thinking about what I'm... going to do to, um, pass his class. Biology isn't it for me," you lie.

You don't mind biology, but there's no way in hell you're telling him, that you stared at him like a dead fish for maybe 10 minutes because you were being nosy.

"Oh, what are you having trouble with?" he asks, as you both walk through the crowded city.

Nothing, LITERALLY nothing!

"Umm, last class I didn't understand what... he was, um, trying to explain." You don't remember what he taught last class.

Let's just hope it wasn't anything simple, so you don't look stupid, yk?

"You mean, a... dogs biology?" he asks, looking very much confused.

Fuck, I do look stupid.

"Uh, yeah, like, their scientific classification, what family they're from, what subspecies they belong to... it didn't stick, I guess," you laugh.

You're bluffing and it's so obvious.

He scratches his nape. "But Mr. Zacharias always talks about dogs, he literally behaves like one too," he says, still looking very confused.

"Hey! Don't question my questions!"

"You haven't asked one yet, dummy."

Is he wrong?

You ask him a bunch of questions you already know the answers to, as you make your way to school.

"Did you get it, dummy? Or are you gonna need more walks with me?" he asks.

You roll your eyes. "Yes, I do. I'll pay more attention in class anyway, since exams are coming up."

He makes his way to the stairs and you follow up behind him.

"Okay, so I have to go to class now, um, it was nice meeting you...?" You drag out the 'u' in hopes of him giving you his name.

He gives you a curious look. "You don't know my name? Really?"

"We've literally never spoken before, what did you expect?"

He furrows his brows. "For real?"

"Yes, why would I know it?" You start to grow irritated.

"No, no it's fine, you're right. Why would you know? It's all cool. Anyway, my name's, Kruger." A boyish smile reveals itself on his face.

You hold your laugh out of respect.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, K-Kruger." You pass by him, while waving goodbye, as you enter the building as quickly as you can.

God, I could barely say his name without laughing, I'm such a dick.

Kruger, huh? How the fuck does a guy that resembles a Greek God have a name like that? It's literally unmoanable.... Uhh, Kruger, mhhh, yuhh... see? Literally unmoanable. Oh wait ____ that's weird as fuck.

You make it to class with Mr. Smith on time. He's your history teacher and dilf #2

His classes are your favorite. You'd think a class like 'history' would be boring, but it gets interesting with a teacher as attractive as him who gives his own opinion and theories on every topic he discusses.

When the 80 minutes are over you go to your locker. Every time you walk by the locker salon, you still can't fully believe it, it's huge, there are so many of them! You're still not used to the sight.

While lost in your thoughts, you notice a familiar dirty blonde walking towards you with a bald boy and a pretty brunette

"Hey guys!" You greet them with a warm smile. Hitch looks at you and starts laughing.

"What the fuck is up with her?" you ask the pair.

They shrug.

She grabs your shoulder for support and you roll your eyes.

Always so dramatic.

"You met a cute boy on the train and blew it you weirdo," she says, as she wipes fake tears from her eyes.

Again, always so dramatic.

"How do you-?" you ask, more to yourself than her.

"Wait, what?" Connie says, looking at Hitch.

You explain what happened with Kruger, including that he walked you to school.

"See, so I didn't blow it, HA, bitch!" you say, as you finish telling them the story.

Hitch gapes at you, as she playfully pushes your left shoulder.

"So, who is he?" Sasha asks excitedly.

"What?" you ask.

"Like, his name, dumb–dumb," Connie says, as he flicks your forehead

Oh, God, not his name.

"Why?" you ask.

"Because you said he knows Hitch, right?" Connie asks.

You nod.

"So... maybe we know him too!" Sasha finishes Connie's sentence.

"His name is Kruger," you say, sheepishly.

They all stare at each other through furrowed brows.

"What?" you ask.

"____, we don't know anyone with that name,"Sasha says, as she looks at Connie for approval.

He shakes his head.

"You mean to tell me, some old creep none of us have ever heard of, knows who I am? Ew," Hitch whines with her nose scrunched.

Your eyes widen. "What do you mean you don't know him?"

They all shake their heads.

Connie bursts into laughter. "____, did you fantasize it?" He says, with a condescending look

"No, dumb ass. He's friends with Jean!"

"Which one?" says the Caillou-looking ass mf.

"Brunet, tall, maybe 6 feet, green eyes and a key necklace?" you say.

They all look at each other again and burst into laughter.

"What, now?"

Do these mfs have, like, an edging kink or sum shit wtf.

"That's Eren dumb fuck," Connie says in between laughs.

"What did you do to him for him to give you a fake name?" Sasha pants, while holding her stomach.

"Nothing! Are you guys sure?"

"Yeah!" they all said, continuing to laugh at you.

You roll your eyes. "Okay, whatever, I need to go to class. Dilf #1 is waiting for me.” You spin on your heel and walk towards your locker.

"HE'S NOT A DILF!" Connie screams.

"WHY NOT?" you scream back.

"He doesn’t have a kid, he can’t be a dilf," Sasha says, as she catches up with you.

"If not dilf, why daddy, hmm??" you ask, genuinely curious btw.

You hear Hitch laugh behind you.

Sasha scrunches her nose. "Yeah, no wonder Eren gave you a fake name. I would too."

"Oh shut up! You blew a hot dog once.”

Sasha shoots you a look and you both laugh as you make your way to Mr. Ackerman's class.

this is a repost of chapter one since my dumbass deleted it.

chapter four is out now!!

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 3 years

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Heloise's 3.5k Followers Sleepover [Closed!] and Writing Challenge [Closed!]

Hello my lovelies <3

On Wednesday we reached another milestone once again! I can’t tell you how happy I am to know that so many of you have been enjoying my writing. All the support I’ve gotten from my followers has been beyond my expectations and I’m just so very grateful. I never imagined getting 50 let alone 3500 followers. Mind blowing really! I wanted to do something fun for such a huge milestone and as it’s a writing blog, I thought, let’s write. I want the writers to enjoy writing and the readers to enjoy reading. However, on the other hand, I didn’t want to leave out my non-writer followers so a sleepover should be in place as well.

Therefore, welcome to⁠—

Heloise’s 3.5k followers Sleepover and Writing Challenge

Part 1. Sleepover [Closed!] (Please click on the link above!)

Part 2. Writing Challenge [Closed!] (See below the Keep Reading option!)

Let's have fun and send your Ask! ^^

Heloise's Map | Masterlists

Heloise’s 3.5k Followers Writing Challenge Masterlist

Part 2. Writing Challenge!

Disclaimer! I do not own any of the prompts listed below, they all belong to @screnwriter and @dreamy-prose and each prompt list I have used for creating this event are listed at the bottom of the post. [Numbers] next to prompts refer to the prompt lists you can find them at.

Rules!

➵ You don’t have to follow me to participate, although it would be much appreciated. ➵ Chose as many prompts as you’d like. No limits. ➵ Write for any universe and any pairings, I basically read everything. ➵ No incest, racial, religious, or sexual hate openly, not related to the story line, but to hurt others. If you have any of the above in your fic, I will not reblog it. ➵ Fluff, angst, smut, anything goes, just please use appropriate Warnings! ➵ Use the Keep reading option above 500 words. Tutorial from phone is Here! ➵ No deadline for submission, but deadline for entry closes on 27 September 2021. Clarification: You can submit your fics even next year if you wish. End date is only for entering the event. I will not be able to accept entries after 27 September 2021. ➵ If you would like to participate, just send me an Ask with the prompt(s) and character and Reblog this post. ➵ Please use the tag #heloises3.5kcelebration and tag my name @heloisedaphnebrightmore when you post your fic. If it's not reblogged in 48 hours, please send me an Ask or DM. My tags seem to be funny at times. ➵ And most importantly, Have fun! :)

I decided to use both Scenario prompts and Dialogue prompts to take on a different approach compared to my last writing challenge.

Scenario prompts

Enemies to lovers / Tension prompts

1. “I’ll kiss you right now to prove that I don’t feel anything for you.” “Okay.” The two characters kiss, and whoops they felt something, followed by lingering, as they’re catching their breath, trying to make sense of what just happened, and the feelings rushing through them, and then there’s this urge to dive back in for another kiss. [5]

@goddessofdawns (x) Loki Laufeyson x Reader

2. Your enemy has never let anyone touch their scar, until you come along. [7]

@natashxromanovf (x) Bucky Barnes x Reader

3. Character A and B kiss each other to prove there's nothing going on between them, but they get so caught up in each other, they prove the exact opposite. [2]

@wearywinchester (x) Dean Winchester x Reader

4. For one night, Character A and B give into temptation and sleep with each other, hoping it will solve the tension building between them. It does the opposite. [2]

5. Character A and B avoid each other after sharing an intimate moment, be it a kiss, a hug, holding hands, or just looking at each other's lips longer than appropriate. [1]

@wearywinchester (x) Dean Winchester x Reader

6. You're upset one night, and you don't know where to go, so you end up at your enemy's house, and as they open the door, you stay silent for a second, before saying “I don't know where else to go.” Your enemy doesn't say anything, instead they pull you into their arms, giving you a shoulder to cry on. [1]

@goddessofdawns (x) Bucky Barnes x Reader

7. The best friends to lovers “Let’s just kiss to see what it’s like.” They kiss, followed by the characters pulling away, eyes still closed, forehead against forehead, lingering… and then they go in for the second kiss. [5]

@goddessofdawns (x) Newt (Maze Runner) x Reader

8. You threaten your enemy, and when they close the distance between you, you realize how attracted you truly are to them. [1]

9. Pinning your enemy against the wall. Or straddling your enemy’s hips whilst they pin your arms above your head. [1]

@theravenclawgal (x) Sirius Black x Reader

10. You end up on your enemy's lap, and you yank the belt from their pants “Let's just get this over with.” [1]

11. You're about to leave the room, but your enemy slams the door shut, and with one hand on either side of your head, barricade you against the wall... (cue the reckless make-out session). [2]

@band--psycho (x) James Potter x Reader

12. You’re sharing a bed with your enemy and being told “Stay on your side or I'll set this whole bed on fire”. Only to wake up the next day with your enemy's arms wrapped around you. [2]

@forever-and-more (x) Lorcan Salvaterre (Throne of Glass) x Reader

13. Your enemy has been badly wounded, and somebody needs to bandage them up, so you agree to help them, and suddenly they're shirtless, and you can't help but admire their body, something that cheeky bastard takes notice of. [1]

14. You've been wounded, your face is all bruised up. Your enemy puts a finger under your chin, bringing your eyes to theirs, asking “Who did this to you?”. When you don't answer, they ask you again “Who did this to you?”. [1]

@band--psycho (x) Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

@grimdevil (x) Regulus Black x Reader

15. You've just been hurt, you're bleeding out, and your enemy is freaking out, dropping the “I love you. I can't lose you” card, begging you not to close your eyes. [2]

@goddessofdawns (x) Loki Laufeyson x Reader

@forever-and-more (x) Lorcan Salvaterre (Throne of Glass) x Reader

16. Two characters look at each other, a tense silence between them and then bang, lips crash into each other as they can’t resist anymore and then one of them pins the other against the wall. [6]

@forever-and-more (x) Lorcan Salvaterre (Throne of Glass) x Reader

17. You had a really good time on the date tonight, and your date is asking for a good night kiss. It was only meant to be on the cheek, but then you pull back, our eyes meet, and there's a gravitational pull pulling you closer again. [6]

18. You’ve never been kissed before so your friend volunteers, but you decline because you’ve been best friends and it would be weird. But a couple hours later you lay awake in bed and can't stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss them and suddenly you regret what you said. [6]

@queen-of-brokenhearts (x) Hermione Granger x Female!Reader

Intimate / Domestic prompts

19. You are wearing your lover’s clothes when they say, “Can I get my shirt/hoodie back?” and you say “No.” or “Come and get it.”. [4]

@oliverwoodmarrymepls (x) Oliver Wood x Reader

20. You're talking on the phone and your lover quietly comes up behind you, wraps their arms around you, and starts gently kissing your neck. You begin to lose focus on your phone call as you concentrate on not making any noise. [3]

@band--psycho (x) Fred Weasley x Reader

21. You’re supposed to be mad at your lover but they’re holding your face and smiling, and you just can't resist it when they're pouting like that. [6]

22. You and your lover sitting next to each other at a table, and they rest their hand on your thigh, gently rubbing their thumb back and forth. [3]

23. Looking at your crush or lover only to find them already looking at you and when you make eye contact, they smile at you. [3]

@iliveiloveiwrite (x) - Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

24. You think mistletoe kisses are lame, but your love interest brings you under one, regardless of the season and suddenly you're all for it. [6]

25. You and your lover are in bed, when you say, “It’s time to get up.” and your lover pulls you back down, wraps their hands around your body, snuggles up close, preventing you from getting out of bed. [4]

26. Your lover is resting their head on your lap, falling asleep whilst you are playing with their hair. [4]

@oliverwoodmarrymepls (x) Oliver Wood x Reader

@band--psycho (x) Young!Remus Lupin x Reader

27. Having a piece of hair brushed off your face as you're reading or looking down. [3]

28. You're sick, and you can't kiss your lover, and it's an absolute torture. [6]

@msmarvelouswinchester (x) Jensen Ackles or Dean Winchester x Reader

29. Being asked “Are you sure?” (There's nothing sexier than consent) [3]

30. When it’s a slow burn, and the characters just look at each other like “Fuck it, I’m done with this.” and they finally kiss. [4]

@acourtofbooksandfantasy (x) Azriel (ACOTAR) x Reader

Dialogue prompts

Flirty / Sarcastic prompts

1. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I like the sound of your voice, because you don’t seem to ever shut up.” [9]

2. “Is that a challenge?” [9]

3. “You’re cute when you’re nervous.” [15]

@will-be-a-fineline (x) Harry Styles x reader

4. “When have I ever put you in danger? Actually, don't answer that.” [11]

@wearywinchester (x) Dean Winchester x Reader

5. “I dare you.” [9]

6. “If you don’t shut up, I might as well kiss you to put that mouth to good use.” [9]

7. Character A: “Do yourself a favour, get laid.” Character B: “Why, are you offering?” [9]

@grimdevil (x) Draco Malfoy x Reader

@theravenclawgal (x) Sirius Black x Reader

8. Character A: “What if bite you?” Character B: “I’m into that.” [10]

9. Character A is returning a priced procession to Character B and says, “I want something in return.” Character B “What?” Character A “You.” [2]

10. Character A: “What changed your mind? “ Character B: “You.” [7]

11. Character A: “What do you want?” Character B: “You.” [9]

12. Character A: “Just admit it.” Character B: “Admit what?” Character A: “I’m the best you’ve ever had.” [13]

13. Character A: “You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said, have you?” Character B: “And yet for some reason your mouth just keeps on going.” [8]

@wearywinchester (x) Dean Winchester x Reader

@theravenclawgal (x) Sirius Black x Reader

14. Character A: “I shouldn't have kissed you” “ Character B: You're right. But I should've.” [7]

15. Character A: “Do you flirt with everyone?” Character B: “Unfortunately, you’re the only one who caught my attention.” Character A: “Unfortunately?” [8]

@sexysirius (x) Sirius Black x Reader

16. Character B: “I like to keep my options open.” [8]

17. “I hate you. Oh, I hate you so much right now.” [11]

18. “Jesus Christ, you're annoying.” [11]

First kiss / Confession prompts

19. Character A: “Come over here.” Character B: “Why?” Character A: “You said you’ve never been kissed before. I’m planning on changing that.” [10]

20. Character A: “Just… don’t make this weird, all right?” Character B: “Meaning what?” Character A: “Meaning, don’t treat me like I haven’t been kissed before.” Character B: “But you… haven’t been kissed before.” Character A: “Look, I just want this over and done with, okay. I don’t want to be treated like a delicate flower. Kiss me like you mean it.” [10]

@band--psycho (x) Damon Salvatore x Reader

21. Character A: “I love you.” Character B: “I know.” Character A: “You knew?” Character B: “You haven’t exactly been discreet.” [15]

@band--psycho (x) Natasha Romanoff x Reader

22. “Listen, I know you’re busy, but… it’s important.” [15]

23. “I love you, and I don’t care if you don’t love me back. I just need you to know that I do.” [15]

24. Character A: “Do you have feelings for me?” Character B: “What?” Character A: “Do you have feelings for me?” [14]

25. “Is that truly, all it is? Just, two friends, hanging out?” [14]

@pregnant-piggy (x) Sirius Black x Reader

26. “I need to ask you something and I don’t want you to brush off the subject or turn it into a joke… I need you to be honest with me.” [14]

@grimdevil (x) Young!Sirius Black

27. “Are you… are you in love with me?” [14]

28. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” [14]

29. “All this time I thought you didn’t want me.” [14]

30. “If there’s something you want to tell me, now’s the time.” [14]

@wearywinchester (x) Dean Winchester x Reader

31. “There’s nothing going on between me and Character C. because the person I want to be with is standing right in front of me.” [14]

32. Character A: “I want this to work. I really do.” Character B: “Then we’re on the same page.” [16]

33. “I’ve missed you so much. I didn’t even think it was possible to miss someone this much.” [16]

34. “I know we're not together, but I might die today so I'm going to kiss you just in case there is no later.” [6]

Reassurance / Sweet prompts

35. “You could stay here, tonight. For as long as you'd like.” [7]

@oliverwoodmarrymepls (x) Oliver Wood x Reader

36. “Could you ever love someone like me?” [7]

37. Character A: “I've never been in love before.” Character B: “Then let me show you.” [7]

@goddessofdawns (x) Sam Wilson x Reader

38. “I can’t get up. You’re gonna have to carry me.” [11]

@goddessofdawns (x) Sam Wilson x Reader

39. “Are you okay with me kissing you?” [12]

@deanwanddamons (x) Jensen Ackles x Reader

40. “I feel safe with you. I always have.” [12]

@band--psycho (x) Newt (Maze Runner) x Reader

41. “I need you to know that you can always come to me.” [12]

@iliveiloveiwrite (x) - Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

42. Character A: “You’ll wait for me?” Character B: “For as long as I need to.” [12]

43. “I’ll always be there for you. Don’t you ever doubt that.” [12]

@band--psycho (x) George Weasley x Reader

44. “Don’t hide from me. you’re even more beautiful in the morning.” [13]

@will-be-a-fineline (x) Harry Styles x reader

45. “I’m going to kiss you until you’re sick of it.” [13]

@goddessofdawns (x) Sam Wilson x Reader

46. “Just hold me. I’m not ready to wake up.” [13]

@pregnant-piggy (x) Sirius Black x Reader

If you have any questions, don’t be afraid of sending me a message. My inbox is always open for everyone :)

Prompt lists used from @screnwriter and @dreamy-prose

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16]

#milestone #heloises3.5kcelebration #writing challenge

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poppinisperfection · 3 years

Text

Peter Maximoff x Reader // Hello, Monica // WandaVision // Part 2

Part 1

Post Dark Phoenix X-Men & WandaVision fanfiction. FemReader and Peter Maximoff dating when he suddenly disappears.

Xavier returns and a plan is formed.

Word Count: 1892

Warnings: Emotional distress, mentions of violence, blood, gun wounds etc.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

(Y/n) sat by the screen, her vision blurring and bags forming under her eyes. The analog clock ticked with each second as Hank fiddled around with some tech, and the others sat on the floor half asleep. They had eventually contacted Xavier, and he promised to travel back to New York as fast as possible. That was hours ago, and now it was the middle of the night.

There was nothing they could do, even discussion led to nowhere; nothing about the situation made sense. Metal crashed on the floor, causing Scott to Jolt awake and Kurt to bamf in surprise as Professor McCoy gave a frustrated grunt at his clumsiness. The disturbance didn't phase (Y/n) though, as she read the line for the thousandth time,

"Please stand by."

She was somewhere between breaking into tears and punching every wall she saw. In short, (Y/n) was desperate. After hours of thinking, she finally allowed her eyes to close for longer than a short blink. Her mind was crashing around like a restless ocean, and she found herself drowning inside endless possibilities. But at the centre of it all was his face, his smile, his voice... him.

Suddenly the doors opened with a whoosh, and (Y/n) turned her attention towards whoever was entering the labs. A determined looking man wheeled in, locking with (Y/n)'s blood-shot eyes. An alabaster-haired, umber-skinned, and confident woman followed him; shooting a look of concern towards the group.

"Xavier-" Hank exclaimed with some relief at the Professor's appearance. The bald man gave a small hum in response, but he continued to near (Y/n) instead of making conversation. He placed a hand out and gave her a kind look.

"May I?" he crooned in his English accent, as the (h/c) lady nodded and placed her head forward. Closing his eyes and placing two fingers on her temple, and another on his own - Xavier began to see the whole story, without anyone saying a single word. After a few seconds, his pulled back and gave a sharp sigh.

"(Y/n), I am so sorry." the wise man's voice faltered after feeling the gut-wrenching fear that swept through her mind. The worried girl said nothing, but just tried to keep the strength on her face instead of breaking down into tears. "You've got a location?" Xavier turned to the beastly professor, trying to solve the mystery.

"Sort of- I mean, it's unbelievable Charles." he grabbed some pages and handed them to his colleague, "It's like he's traveled to another universe; I've only heard about theories of multiverses, but this- this is more evidence than anything I've ever read..." Hank rambled on, as even Charles Xavier- telepathic mastermind- look on in shock.

Before anyone could say anything, the old computer screen buzzed and the image shifted. (Y/n)'s tired eyes widened as she sat on the edge of her seat. Even Kurt teleported closer in an effort to not miss a second of the developing situation. A lead guitar began to play, and the opening credits rolled...

The group we're unsure if it was the same show, as it looked completely different in style. But their doubts were cleared when that same woman showed up, slamming the door using some sort of powers.

"She's a mutant..." (Y/n) mumbled, as the others looked on in confusion. The opening continued to play on as more characters were shown - most of which they had never seen before. Then finally, a speedy friend appeared.

"As himself?" Scott added, reading the credits. (Y/n) stared at the title and mentally recorded it.

"It's like they're a family." Kurt noticed as Peter integrated himself so naturally with them. The pair of young boys started to monologue about halloween.

"Halloween? This just gets more and more confusing." Scott rubbed his forehead in bewilderment. Ororo stood beside them, barely comprehending what she was watching. She had previously offered to look after the students while the situation was being investigated, and that lost time had undoubtedly caused her to miss a lot of information.

"So Pete's on TV?" Storm questioned in a baffled tone. The silver haired fellow lay on a couch as the twin boys discussed him, and they referred to him as their uncle. "Okay, somebody needs to expla-" she began, but was cut off as Xavier placed a finger to his temple and transferred the information she had missed. Ororo gave a soft gasp, but ultimately was relieved to be filled in. Since the professor had learned about the situation from (Y/n), some of the grief in her mind was passed to Storm; so the loyal mutant placed a caring hand on her friend's shoulder in comfort.

Xavier chatted behind the group of young mutants who watched the show play out.

"She suggested that maybe Kurt could go in, I told her-" Hank whispered to his friend.

"That would be dangerous..." Charles finished his thought, "But dangerous doesn't mean impossible." the telepath looked towards the blue teleporter who stared at the computer screen.

"You can't be serious, Charles." Hank furrowed his thick brows and stared in disbelief.

"Kurt, (Y/n)," the professor called out, catching the pair's attention,

"Come with me."

-------

The small group trailed down the metallic hallway and approached the familiar doors to Cerebro. (Y/n) looked back at the room they had left, still hearing the distant sounds from the broadcast. Her mind travelled to what she was missing; was Peter still okay?

The circular door released and slid open, and the group followed Xavier's lead towards the machine at the end of the walkway. Kurt's tail wrapped around his leg in fear, as he fiddled nervously with his hands. Placing the silver helmet over his head, Charles nodded for the intellectual beast to flip the switch. Immediately, the room lit up and images of people flashed around. A million conversations ran through the professor's mind, but he was only searching for one person.

"Turn it up." Xavier requested as his eyebrows knit together in concentration. Reluctantly, Hank did as he said. Soon the voices faded and a only a muffled conversation echoed through the large room. "The whole way, Hank." the british man added.

"Charles that's too mu-"

"Do it!" Xavier demanded his face contorting with the amplification. (Y/n) gave a soft gasp as the voice grew clearer.

"I think mom and dad would've loved it."

Peter's words reverberated, as tears formed in (Y/n)'s eyes. Despite Cerebro being on full power, the only thing that Xavier could access was the detached audio of the mind he was connected to.

"Where were you hiding these kids up til now? I assume they were sleeping peacefully in their beds."

"Can you speak to him Charles?" Hank asked.

"Something's... Something's not right... It's too powerful to see..." Xavier stuttered out, trying not to loose his connection. Peter's voice continued, as the group wondered to who and what he was talking about.

"I'm not some stranger and I'm not your husband, you can talk to me."

"There's something... dark... clouding his mind." the powerful telepath explained, "but he's still in there, somewhere." he added. The group began to notice a purple hue clouding the entire room. The clearer Peter's disembodied voice became, the more the mysterious smoke descended. Kurt and (Y/n) stood back slightly, scared of what it could mean.

"Don't sweat it sis, it's not like your dead husband can die twice."

The sentence rang through their ears, before the whole room erupted in a blast of ruby red energy. It was exactly like the force that 'Wanda' had used earlier. Energy passed through the mutants, as images of terror entered their minds. Fragments of memories flashed; glowing stones, broken families, and piles of ashes.

Xavier groaned with pain, but he kept the connection despite the immense power that surged through his mind. (Y/n) grasped her head and panted heavily. The image of a young man lying cold, bleeding through bullet wounds, on a pile of rubble haunted her. She didn't know who it was, but he seemed familiar for some reason - and her heart broke at the sight of his lifeless form.

"He's slipping... I- I can't hold on..." Xavier cried out through gritted teeth, "I can't latch onto anyone!" the room filled with a booming static noise as the bald man searched though all the available minds in that reality. Hank writhed on the floor, clutching his ears with the horrible sound. Soon he gained the strength to pull a hand up towards the switch and slowly tune down the settings. The din faded, and the only noise that could be heard was the heavy breathing from the group that tried to recover from the experience.

"I didn't tell you to turn it off." Xavier pulled off Cerebro's helmet and placed it harshly on its holder.

"It would've killed you." Hank rebutted, standing on his feet.

"There was something forming, a gap in the reality, I could feel it!" Charles placed a hand on his forehead in frustration, "It's like all the minds were under some sort of deep control - but I could sense other ones... ones that were free."

"But what can we do about it!?" the beastly Professor retaliated, annoyed at his colleague.

"If I can find the free minds, I can see where they are; exactly where they are." Xavier began to ramble, "Then I can show Kurt, and you can get there." (Y/n)'s eyes grew wide at his suggestion. Even though she had considered it earlier, she now began to doubt her logic. If it were just her, then she wouldn't hesitate to risk her life for Peter - but she couldn't ask Kurt to do it too.

"Professor, what if... What if it doesn't work?" (Y/n) piped up, looking to the powerful telepath with concern plastered all over her face.

"We can't risk more of our lives, Kurt you don't have to do this." Hank tried to assure the German mutant.

"Nein." he responded, "Peter is my friend, I vill not leave him in danger. I vill do it." Kurt nodded his head as he stood confident in his decision. Despite the hatred that Kurt Wagner had received his whole life; he was always the most selfless person in the room. (Y/n) shot him a weak smile, thankful for his kindness.

"This isn't just about Peter. Somebody brought him there. Somebody, or something, has a power that could change everything we think we know." McCoy warned, trying to convince the group of the dangerous situation.

"Which is why we need to know more." (Y/n) interjected.

"I will be able to communicate with you, as long as you don't go under this person's control." Xavier explained, deep in thought. Hank looked at the trio, and finally gave a deep sigh.

"There's no talking to you people." he shook his head, "I'm sure travelling across the multiverse will be a cinch." his tone dripped with sarcasm as Charles placed Cerebro back on his head.

"Have a little faith, Hank." Xavier joked stiffly as he flipped the switch to the machine. McCoy reluctantly turned the power knob and soon the static noise returned, causing a grimace to appear on everyone's faces. The noise flickered as Xavier passed through more empty minds, searching for one that would work. The sensory overload build up in a crescendo, until everything stopped to a halt.

"Hello, Monica."

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wowbright · 2 years

Text

Fic: Sweet/Tart

Tan Hands and Tan Lines Snarky’s Word Challenge 2021: undulating

Words: ~1000

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: Blaine arrives at church on Easter and is jealous of Chandler’s outfit.

I’m belatedly going through the prompts for The Tan Hands and Tan Lines Summer Event 2021 to flesh out my Mormon!Klaine universe. This vignette takes place after Easter Hunt.

My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost.

Notes: Is this even smoot? My challenge tag for the Tan Hands and Tan Lines prompts is now “thatl” because “tan hands and tan lines” appears to be blocked for some readers on the iOS app. Fun times! If you have any questions or typo corrections, feel free to use my ask box!

--------

They took the long route to church and did an impromptu hymn sing on their bicycles to help Elder Hummel burn off a little of his Peeps-induced sugar high. But not all of it. He was still peppy and talkative as they locked up their bikes outside the building, his smile almost as wide as his face. That, in turn, made Blaine smile so hard that some previously unknown muscles behind his ears started to ache.

Clearly, Blaine needed to smile like this more often to get those muscles in shape. He trusted that his companionship with Elder Hummel would continue to give him opportunities to exercise them.

“My favorite elders!” Chandler greeted them when they entered the coat closet. He was sitting on a crate in the corner, looking up from the open sheet music in his lap, and dressed head to toe in Easter colors: royal purple shoes, a powder blue suit, a butter-yellow button-down shirt, and bowtie and matching pocket handkerchief covered with tiny pastel flowers that picked up on the other colors in his outfit but was also threaded with a delicious shade of pink that reminded Blaine of SweeTARTS.

It was the kind of look that only certain people could pull off, and Blaine had to hesitantly admit to himself that Chandler had succeeded. In fact, Blaine was right on the edge of coveting the outfit, especially that charming bow tie. He honestly didn't know how he was going to survive the rest of his mission wearing neckties every day.

“Here, let me get your coats!” Chandler hopped up from the crate and offered his assistance to Blaine first, which was a surprise. But maybe that was just so he could linger longer on Elder Hummel.

“You know,” said Blaine, “you don't have to sit in the coat closet.”

“Well, I wasn't sure about protocol when it came to reading in the sanctuary,” Chandler said.

“Oh, that’s fine. And there are the Sunday school rooms, too.”

“Yeah, but I've never been in any of them before. I'd feel like I was breaking in.”

Blaine had somehow forgotten that Chandler hadn't actually been to their church before. And yet he was singing in their choir. How awkward.

“And how is Easter going so far for you both?” Chandler asked, turning to take Elder Hummel’s coat.

“Fantastic!” effused Kurt. “The Easter Bunny—” he nodded his head unsubtly toward Blaine “—visited while I was sleeping and brought dyed eggs that were done so beautifully I wish I could keep them forever, and he hid candy all over the apartment. It was the best candy too. Amazing, American candy.”

“What’s wrong with German candy?”

“Nothing. But this stuff—” Elder Hummel took a deep breath before launching into a fast-paced exposition on the wonders of Peeps, his voice cresting and falling in undulating waves of enthusiasm. “Okay. They're called Peeps, and they're basically this brightly colored marshmallow fluff that’s shaped like little rabbits or baby chickens, and I honestly can't tell you if they taste good on an objective level, but I used to get them in my basket every year when I was a little kid, and when you're a little kid, all you care about is sugar, and every time I eat one, it brings back all those same feelings, and they’re. Just. So. Good! Maybe the Easter Bunny will save one for you and you can try it the next time we see you … if I don't find and eat it first.” Hmmm, so maybe the sugar high hadn't completely worn off quite yet.

Chandler laughed and hung Elder Hummel’s coat next to Blaine’s. He had taken no longer removing it than he had with Blaine, and he hadn’t lingered on Elder Hummel’s shoulders or anything untoward like that.

How odd. Was the crush dissipating? No, that couldn't be possible. Elder Hummel was much too fascinating to burn out on after only a couple of weeks. The thought was downright offensive.

It was more likely that Chandler felt the sacred spirit imbuing the church facilities and had decided to put a damper on his usual over-the-top flirting.

Wait.

Did this mean Chandler had a suave, gentlemanly side?

And why did that thought make Blaine feel so much more uneasy than Chandler’s previously incessant flirting?

Stop judging Chandler and his outfit and his motives, Blaine silently scolded himself. Admittedly, it was a little difficult to do with the guy standing right in front of him.

“I should go warm up before everybody gets here.” Blaine turned heel into the sanctuary before Elder Hummel could tell him to wait. He just needed to sit down for a couple minutes and run through scales and think Christian thoughts.

Thinking Christian thoughts became easier as other choir members trickled in and Chandler became only one of many competing for Elder Hummel’s attention. It became easier yet when they went through one last run. The choir sounded amazing. Not just Elder Hummel and the sister missionaries or Chandler with his formal training. But all of them. The harmonies were clear and crisp and sent waves of emotion through Blaine’s heart, washing away any residue from the uncomfortable thoughts he’d entertained earlier and replacing them with the joyful peace he’d felt sharing Easter breakfast with Elder Hummel. Each voice built on the next, melding together into something greater than the whole as they brought the stagnant notes of the printed page alive. Blaine was reminded of the concert that took place in that dark tomb on the outskirts of Jerusalem two-thousand years before, when atoms and Spirit and breath conspired together to resurrect Christ from the dead.

Blaine’s hands moved over the piano effortlessly as he listened to the song, his whole being filled with love for each voice and each person gifted with that voice.

Including Chandler.

Today was Easter. Blaine’s Savior was alive. And everything was going to be just fine.

#mormon!klaine #thatl #wowbright writes fic #snarky's challenge: undulating #klaine fic #my thatl #blaine's been having a lot of mood swings lately #i think he's hormonal

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animatedrapture · 4 years

Text

RINTOBER: [ Achilles' Heel ]

word count: 2,222

suna rintarō x reader

tags: ambiguous end, implied major character death, angst, implied sexual intercourse, toxic relationship, detailed pain(?)

song: achilles come down - gang of youths

a/n: HALLOWEEN SPECIAL because... death...?

a HUGE thank you, once again, to my wonderful wife, love of my life, bby @toffees-main 🥺 for proofreading the final piece and preventing me from sounding like a dumbass like, twice. also, thank you to @newfriendjen and @kaitycole for beta-reading the initial draft!

"Rin, Rintarō, I love you!" You shouted from the bleachers; a proud smile decorating your features as you cheered for him right after he'd hit the ball to the other side of the net, securing EJP Raijin another point—so close to winning.

His gaze and yours were two opposites of a pole with a pull unparalleled—a pull science can only wish to decipher. He finds you as he rotates through the set up and there's a beam in his eyes, making him break out into a grin you just know he couldn't find it in himself to reserve for later.

That day, that match—Suna Rintarō was named the MVP of the game. He owed it all to you and the swell of his heart with each cheer he heard from you; your voice distinct as if it were the only one that mattered in that whole gymnasium. Perhaps, at least that time, you truly were all that mattered to him.

But not anymore.

The first—the first was the lack of replies, the dryer replies. I love you's met with Love you's and very little effort to hide the lack of sincerity beneath. It began through texts until it was the quick, snipped tone laced with the parsimonious manner he answered you. The act of it was much like an attempt to deprive you of water until you're but withering rose in his grasp that he would rather replace than try to plant again and save.

Just how long were you willing to go without the water you needed to stay alive?

"Rin, love, I'll prepare dinner for us tonight, come home early, okay? I'm cooking your favorite!"

"I'll try," was his reply as you watched each of his hasty movements through your shared bedroom.

"I prepared you a bento, too. It's on the kitchen counter," you continued as he attempted to ignore the way you looked at him similar to the way you look when you're lost and searching for something. He hums in response, and just as he was about to reach for the door, you call out to him, "Rin, where's my goodbye kiss?" in the usual tone you would pull back then when he would forget and pepper you with kisses in retaliation, offering an apology before heading out.

He looks back at you with exasperation, "I'm late, Y/N." He doesn't wait for you to answer before he has the door shut close.

That's how you know he also forgot the food you prepared on the kitchen counter.

Foolishly, the answer to the question was that you were willing to wait until your next life for his love to drown you into bliss again. It's that answer that's disrespectful to the mystery of reincarnation—but you're everything Suna Rintarō wanted you to be; that is, if it was a fool he wanted you to be, you would play the part better than any award winning actor to have ever lived could. Even if it was a miscreant he wanted you to be, some sort of heretic to the laws of the world and the conditions of love. You'd be everything he asked of you. After all, who were you if not his other half?

Who were you if not water to shape into whatever container he put you in, right?

The second—the second was the lies that slipped past such sinful crimson lips. Oh, by the heavens, as if the lack of fondness in the timbre of his voice as he spoke to you wasn't enough to put cracks to the cemented foundation of you and him. Cruel, it's so cruel—you wonder if you're lacking somewhere, have you changed? Are you no longer diamond in the sea of glitter—? Worth not of his time nor the beating of the caged heart you thought you've acquired?

Now when he speaks, even the very sound of his voice reverberates like a sharp spear piercing through your chest without mercy—as if you're Spartan in the Battle of Thermopylae. The lies that come along with them about how training ended late again, or that he's travelling for a match again—Huh? No, you don't have to come, Y/N. I need to focus.

Did he have to lie about who he's with, what he's been doing? It's laughable. As if you wouldn't kiss away the taste of anything that lingered in his lips, if it was blood, alcohol or the lips of another girl. Rintarō, did he not know you enough to know you would surrender to his will no matter what mud followed his footsteps?

Ah, but, what would admitting such things do to his pride? Maybe it's that—or maybe he liked the way the lies were like lemon and salt to a fresh wound. You think, you never thought you could be so masochistic.

Third—the third is the sharpness of his gaze. It's the same gaze, same pair of eyes you've loved for such a long time and you fail not to love to this very moment. You're softer than clouds but now most hollow in comparison to the unacquirable stars among the cosmos—you think they're there but they're just a burst of light, something that has probably died lightyears ago.

It's like chokehold, the fourth—the fourth is like chokehold and he, the assassin. Ruthless—he's ruthless when he looks at you as you're not more than a tedious chore to him and the ring on your finger held no promise of relentless love greater than what a deity could offer.

Foolish—you're foolish. Delusion is a coping mechanism to the ones whose realities have been robbed in front of them—delusion is what you're supposed to call it when you fill your head with all the excuses and all the things you tell yourself have to change. You used to be a masterpiece. A masterpiece to him; as though you're Holy Grail found in a gallery of things that could never begin to hope they would ever amount to you.

Delusion is ignoring the liquor in his lips, the intoxicating smell of his cologne mixed with alcohol and cigarette smoke. You're confused and your reality that seems to have been distorting more often than usual. You question the strings that premeditate fate when it's you feeling the drunkenness and hangover the next day when it should be Suna and the tabloids of "Suna Rintarō spotted in yet another bar." You wonder if each sunset and sunrise you watched with Suna was a mere fever dream when it's you who vomits on the toilet. You, who sobs on the bathroom floor.

"Sfumato," your friend tells you, "The gentle blurring of edges to make rendered objects appear as one with their environment." The edges blur when you call that delusion as love—you only have to wait long enough before both are truly one and the same. The pain disguised as martyr sacrifice to the greatest allegory of love to exist. This is what you're told. They say, "Y/N, you've confused love with delusion," and yet you don't listen.

You don't listen most of all when you're back underneath him but you feel like you're being bloodied all over, stained like wine to a white dress. Yet you allow yourself to indulge in the kisses he's abated you of, you revel in each time you ask him to tell you he loves you and he finally does as he luxuriates you of your desires and of your whines for love—nevermind that he was doing it for himself. After all, it is as the word suggests, a luxury.

Suna Rintarō had become a luxury you couldn't afford, therefore, he did not have any business of giving himself to you. Not unless he wanted to.

Is there such thing as a free reign over the heart of someone? Hand it over as they will but how long would they truly allow you to borrow it—? Borrow it because one never truly surrenders such a vital thing to human functioning. Yes, you are and you have been delusional to believe so.

"You own the entirety of my heart, Y/N," you're unsure whenever it echoes in your head. He brings you enough torture, why must your own brain create such clamor in your head. Was such pain necessary? Is pain to love much like Adam's rib to Eve?

"It's a promise ring, bunny," he said as he tucked your hair behind your ears—his gaze is intense, almost like you would disappear from his sight if he looked at anywhere or anything but you.

You stared at the ring that shone under the light of the restaurant, your vision blurring at the tears welling from your eyes and you try your best to choke in the sob that involuntarily escapes you.

"Hey, Y/N, what are you cryin' for?" He questioned with a chuckle, looking at you with amusement dancing in his eyes while his thumbs reached out to wipe away each tear that betrayed you—falling down your cheeks as he cupped your face.

"I-it's nothing, I—I'm just happy, love," you answer him through your tears.

There's a smile playing across his lips, he tells you, "'m just making a promise that I'll marry you one day, bunny, is all."

You nodded eagerly with a wide smile even as the tears that left you continued to fall, "I'm making a promise to say yes, Rin. No matter what," you answered him through your sobs, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Guess I should start practicing to get on one knee then, yeah?" He laughed as he pulled you closer, his arms around you, you giggled along with him—it felt like you were molded together to form one perfect piece, like the act of staying there for all of eternity, in each other's arms, would turn you into one. Entangled together in all the right ways—as if Rapture has befallen the Earth and that was your final state as did the universe.

The fifth—the fifth is the screaming, the fights. Who would have thought you would break like a mere twig stepped on in the darkest forest on this Earth? It was under his shoe did you break from; each word that left his mouth was scathing—they didn't feel like a stab or pins and needles to the human heart, they felt like burns of acid that slowly ate at your decaying soul, breaking heart, dwindling sanity.

"I don't get it, Rin! Why do you treat me like this?!" You screamed through your tears, your chest heaving as your lungs tried its best to support you, even when it's already been punctured by the shattered pieces of your heart that continued to beat in separate shards, digging further into your lungs, damaging your ribcage, piercing your throat.

"Please, God, just tell me what to do—Rintarō, tell me what I need to do to turn us back to the way we were, please," you begged, falling to your knees and you let the shattered items on the floor puncture your skin. You felt numb yet your whole body was buzzing. The pain from the pieces of glass from under you doesn't register in your brain because all you can feel is the pain that was spreading from your chest and out into your whole body.

Under his mercy had he turned you inside out and greedily taken every part of you—everything you surrendered on your own volition until you were nothing, not even a shell of yourself but more like a ghost floating through the air. It looked like a battlefield—and perhaps it was. Love was never something you come out alive from. Love was greedy, selfish, treacherous. Love is like an assailant you allowed to enter in the safety of your own home.

"Don't you get it? Y/N, I don't love you anymore!"

No. You think, no. No, it repeats in your head, over and over. Denial. You were in denial, at this conjecture, you were aware of even this.

"I stopped loving you long ago, Y/N. You were dumb enough to stay." Has he always been this truculent towards you? You wonder but you can't recall anything else but the echoing of his words. Words he used like a champion of the battlefield, liberating away the life of his enemies.

No. Don't say that. You don't mean it. No.

Suna thought you would be the arrow to his heel—the one to bring him to his knees in the most torturous of ways. In reality, maybe you were more his heel than the arrow. He was both Achilles and his actions, the arrow that brought him to his own demise.

Sixth—the sixth was sickening grief. You're so unfair. You're so selfish. How could you run away from him, only to scream his name and the tormenting shout of "I love you" that haunted him awake or in his slumber. How could you be so cruel? To let him fall to his knees in front you the way you made him to. Ruthless—you're so ruthless. The pain was the excruciating kind, crashing towards him like ocean waves bringing him farther from the shore and near to wherever you were now. How could you leave him like you did?

After all, what was he if there wasn't you?

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