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the-fiction-witch · 2 years

Text

Rosebud

Media The Last Legion

Character Romulus Augustus (age up)

Couple Romulus X Reader

Rating Sweet & Flirty

Concept 'Just A Whore'

I stood looking out across the vast stone of the beautiful city of Roma. I watched the sky slowly turn from the beautiful pale blue to this deep oceanic colour full of vast stars, all that lit the earth below the flew orange flames that sat by statues, temples and places of military note. The largest statue loomed over it all a man who's name I didn't know but I knew at some point he must have been of such great note and importance. I stood the sweet stone below my Sandals, my hands against the stone of the balcony fiddling my fingers with the ivy that wrapped around it long overgrown. My small blue cotton dress around me allowed it to hang to my ankles, the fabric tried with a knot of the same around my waist. My hair braided tightly and intricately as to prevent its fall. The silver bangle imbrazzed with the curled horns of a ram around my arm. I watched the city doing my best not to look within to the grandeur behind me in the suite as it would only make me lust for this life I couldn't have.

I heard the door so I turned to glance within to the impressive palace suite all of it a beautiful luxurious red and gold, the large bed still unmade from this morning, the table lined with food and drink, the fire burning well with the chaise Infront of it blanket still draped over it, the books and impressive items lined all surfaces things that I couldn't only imagine would one day shape history's halls.

In came the two men dressed to the nines head to toe in the gold and red armor of the empire they came in swords in hand seeming to threaten me as they took a side each of the one door

"Awwww" his voice cooed as he arrived to the suite barefoot as usual, in his impressive clothes of gold a red belt around his waist in attempt to give the poor thin boy a hint of a shape, he came into the room his arms behind his back smiling at me slightly bowing as he stood there, immediately I noticed he was followed by two more guards to took there usually places either side of the balcony door "right where I left you" he Cooes he smiled widely as I blushed and stuck his arms at full length Infront of him processing to make grabby hands at me like a child to a teddy bear.

I went over keeping my distance of two feet and curtsying low, he chuckled at me taking my hands in his forcing me closer giving each of my knuckles kisses immediately I felt the cold of the gold against my skin, his ring I could feel the eagles shape and strength reminding me as always who he was. Once done with my hands he set them on his shoulders wrapped his arms around my waist so barely an inch remained between us giving my lips a passionate kiss a moan into the kiss and an almost comical 'muah' sound when he pulled away with a chuckle

"How Is my little rosebud?"

"Quiet alright your grace"

"What have I told you?" He laughed rolling his eyes a little "my little rosebud has no need to call me that" he smiled giving my cheek a kiss before he headed to the table

"It is still correct your grace" I remind him unable to help my glances to the guards who all watched me like hungry vultures

"Ummmm" he humms pouring himself a goblet of wine "and next time you Disobey me y/n. I will give you such a spanking" he smirked

"Yes Romulus"

"Better" he laughed picking at some grapes "tell me about your day"

"Not much to tell" I answered fiddling with my fingers

"Come on, I wanna know what my little Rosiebud got up to without me" he smiled pulling me into his chest

"I didn't do much of anything, read a book or two, watched the city that is all"

"Really? That all?"

"That's all"

"Awwww my little Rosiebud waited here all day for me to get back" he smiled

"I did" I blushed

"Your as sweet as honey" he smiled

"What did you do then? Today?"

"Me? Nothing of interest"

"Being emperor?" I giggled "of all Rome and her empire, all armies and dominions all peoples of the blessed Roman lands. I'm sure there must have been something of interest"

"It's a surprising boring job" he smiled "but I went to some boring meetings, did a few boring speeches, listened to some boring news, it was overall a remarkably boring day" he says "I shall have take you down with me tomorrow rosebud you'll make it all very engaging I'm sure you will"

"Or you'll be distracted from your duties"

"Either way I'll be entertained"

"I'm sure you would" I smiled

"You eaten?" He asks

"No"

"Why not?" He asks having another handful of grapes and I shrug "tables been laid for you all day why haven't you eaten?" He asks

"Well…" I said trying to hide the truth but he read me like a parchment paper and knew exactly why I hadn't without me speaking a word. He rolled his eyes a slight angry glare in his eyes to his head guard by the door

"why was the table cleared after breakfast?" He ordered his voice much harsher far more authority then he spoke to me with

"Breakfast was finished your grace"

"Let me guess lunch wasn't laid either?" He asks standing up from where he had been leant on the table leaving me to move closer to his guard but he didn't answer, Romulus turned to me and his tone shifted back "was lunch laid Rosiebud?" He asks and I shook my head, he looked more angry turning back to his guards "why not?" He asked them his tone returned to the authority strong and yet no answer came "WHY NOT!" He demanded loud enough it made me jump and a shiver ran up my spine honestly I think every guard in the room collectively made a mess of their uniform, it was rare for Romulus to need to use his voice like that he saved it for special occasions and clearly none had seen it before

"Because the kitchen…. Uhh felt it best to reserve the food and wine, given the winter coming and all, your grace"

"Ummm" he hummed "that the democratic answer or the real one?"

"Your grace?"

"A democratic answer is beating around the bush with things that aren't technical a lie so you can keep your tongue but also aren't reality because you fear your fate of you told me the truth"

"..... Democratic"

"Then tell me the real one."

"The kitchens felt it… a waste of time. To bring lunch up to the suite"

"Because?"

"Because only miss y/n was up here"

"And the kitchens felt it was fine, to starve her?"

"Well-"

"She's not a prisoner. She was up here in the royal suite she should have been fed. Only y/n was here. Why wasn't she fed?"

"Romulus it's alright" I smiled

"Tell me. Now"

"She is…"

"She's what?"

"Just a whore your grace"

Immediately my heart sank

"Say that again"

"Your grace i-"

"Say it!"

"She is just a whore. Your grace"

Before I could even take a breath Romulus took the man by the ear forcing him to walk across the room to the rug Infront of me then forcing him to the floor on his knees, Romulus then moved behind him kicking his back forcing him to lay on the floor, he took the guards sword forcing it as his neck picking the guard up by his hair

"Apologize"

"Your grace I meant no offense-"

"APOLOGIZE!" he demanded

"I'm sorry your Grace"

"Not to me. Apologize to my lady"

"I'm sorry miss"

"Like you mean it"

"I'm so sorry miss I'm sorry I didn't mean anything by it"

"Kiss her hand and ask her for forgiveness"

The guard did as he asked taking my hand giving it a kiss

"I'm sorry my lady please forgive me"

"It's alright" I nodded

"Kiss her Sandals"

"Why your grace?"

"To remind you, that you are forever below her"

The guard did as he commanded gently taking my ankles and kissing the soles of my sandals

"There. I will not have my lady insulted" he says dropping the sword Letting the guard boy go "she is to be fed, as I am. And if the kitchens have anything to say they can say it to me."

"Yes your grace" he nodded scurrying away to Inform the kitchens

"Don't you think that's a little excessive Romulus?" I spoke up

"No" he says going to the table getting a plate and lining it with the best of the various foods from the table "not at all. You've been around long enough now I'm not taking there excuses for the way they treat you" he says bringing the plate to me "and I will not have my Rosiebud disrespected, even when I'm not around" he Cooes giving my lips a kiss "come on we'll have dinner in the balcony together" he smiled taking his own plate and leading me to the balcony table overlooking the city as we ate. "I need to give them all a talking to"

"Who?"

"The staff. And guards. Get these rules laid out to all of them, so we have no excuses"

"It's alright Romulus really"

"No it's not. Your my lovely lady, my sweet little rose bud, they disrespected you there disrespecting me" he says

"I am… just your whore"

He gave me a look testing if I was serious so I shrugged

"If I didn't love you. And if I hadn't sworn I'd never hit a woman I would slap you so silly right now" he says getting up and pulling me up with him to nuzzle in his chest as he leant on the balcony "why on this earth would you think that?"

I merely glanced at my bangle

"What? Because if this?" He asks "so what? The curl of a ram's horn. Detailed and beautiful, strong and powerful,"

"A whore."

"Sexuality" he corrected "and fertility." He smirked "So your my powerful, strong sexy lady"

"But-"

"I don't care that you where a whore when Iet you, it doesn't bother me it never has. But I love you I utterly adore you more then anything in the world" he says kissing my head

"But… we can't -"

"Awww my little Rosiebud" he Cooes "I am Romulus Augustus, emperor of all Rome and her dominions. Whatever rules and laws there are that say I can't marry you I will change. Any man in the senate that stands against me will be executed. Any guard or staff who disrespects you I will force their apologies. Y/n, my sweet rosebud your the only woman I want in the world and I'd you let me I'd marry you in the temple in the morning"

"You don't mean that"

"I do. I swear it. From Mars to Pluto, Minerva to Poseidon, Juno to Sol. I will swear it Infront of each and every god so that you know my love for you is true"

"How do you know it's love?"

"Because nothing else makes me feel the way you do"

"How do you know it's not merely lust? And you've married a pretty ass you'll be board of in a week"

"Well, I haven't got board of you yet have I?" He smiled "but I know we have more then lust my Rosiebud. If you told me tomorrow you didn't want us to make love, for a night, a week, a year. It wouldn't bother me at all. I'd still come see you everyday, I'd still want to marry you, and I'd stick love you just as much as I do now"

"Even if I said never?"

"Never? Well. That would be okay too. I would have to give Rome an heir…. But we could always adopt. Awww we could adopt sweet little orphan babies"

"That really be okay with you?"

"So long as I'm with you I don't care" he smiled "and if this… little symbol really bothers you that much" he smiled kissing my hand slipping my bangle off attempting to bend or snap it but little happened "damn that is sturdy" he complained making me giggle he tried a couple more times before he sighed dropping it on the floor standing on it which only just bent it, picking it up and then throwing it off the balcony "there. No more ram's horns. And once we're married I'll get them to make you something with the cesar eagle as not to cause any more… misjudgements" he smiled

"You really mean that Romulus?"

"Of course I mean, my sweet little Rosiebud" he smiled giving me a kiss "besides I told the craftsmen months ago, once we get married I want a ring with your beautiful face on it. Like Caligula did with his wife"

"That's very sweet Romulus"

"And… once we are married and have an heir I will get a statue like all the other emperors, I've already told the artist I want us together"

"Together?"

"Of course I don't want to be stood alone with some lion head like the rest of my family I want us together cuddled and happy"

"I'm not sure your advisor's will like that"

"Well it's not up to them. I am the emperor and what I say goes." He smiled "that goes for my future empress too" he smiled kissing my head "come on, bed time. I'm taking you down with me tomorrow so my little Rosiebud can keep me company"

"Alright Romulus" I smiled

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fadedflame · 2 years

Text

The Deep Dark Blue Day 23

Detroit: Become Human Prompt Challenge from @connor-sent-by-cyberlife

Summery: Lieutenant Hank Anderson had been a naval officer for years. It was his life, his passion, everything he cared about now. And yet, all it took was one look from the tiny Mer child to make him willing to risk it all.

Day Twenty Three - Sailor

Words-1107

Chapter Summery: A surprise for Connor.

< Previous Chapter / Next Chapter >

Ao3 or read below

Tina was trying to distract him and he couldn’t figure out why.

Connor’s concern only intensified the longer she kept him there. They were below deck and any time he even mentioned going up above, she came up with increasingly bazaar reasons why they couldn’t.

Even more suspicious, was that he had barely seen Hank all day.

His dad had spent the past couple of months after he had gotten back from his little solo excursion more overprotective than normal. Not that he was complaining, near Dad was his favorite place to be, but it was now strange to be away from him for more than a couple hours at most.

It was thoroughly freaking him out.

“What’s going on, Tina?” he asked, finally addressing the situation head on. “Why don’t you want me to go on deck?”

The look on her face betrayed everything. “I don’t! I mean, I’m not stopping you. I just need help with this is all.”

Connor stared down at the mess of rigging he was helping untangle. The knots looked like they had been put there intentionally, but he didn’t comment on it. Honestly, he was afraid to. “Is something wrong?” he asked instead.

“No, of course not,” Tina insisted, sounding the most sincere she had all day. “Why would you think that?”

Why wouldn’t he at this point. “You’re acting strange,” he deduced. “Everyone has been, really. Did I do something? Am I in trouble?”

“Oh, sweetie. No,” She put her section of the rope down to squeeze his arm affectionately. “There’s nothing wrong, I promise.”

He looked at her skeptically, but before he could say anything in contrast to her words, her phone chirped. Tina’s face lit up and she scrambled to read whatever message she had received.

“Finally!” she exclaimed before smiling at him again. “You want proof everything is alright? Come on.”

She didn’t wait for him to respond, instead abandoning their mundane task and leading him, finally, onto the deck.

What greeted him in the bright afternoon sun defied explanation.

Every single member of the crew was standing there, waiting for them. They were all dressed in brightly colored hats and paper streamers were woven into the rigging.

“Surprise!” they shouted in unison.

Yes, Connor certainly was. He blinked, startled and unsure, unable to process what exactly was going on.

“Dad?” he asked, confused as the man walked over to him with a self-satisfied smirk. The red and blue striped hat clashed with his gray hair.

Hank plopped an equally ridiculous hat onto Connor’s head, the strap snapping against his chin as it was placed. “Happy birthday, kiddo,” he said.

Connor blinked, the bewilderment not fading despite Hank’s answer. “What?”

Tina laughed, putting on a hat of her own. “It’s a surprise party, Connor. To celebrate your birthday.”

“My… birthday?” He’d heard about that concept before, but never experienced one. “It’s my birthday?”

“Well no, probably not.”

The new voice had Connor turning in an instant, already smiling as he recognized the sound. “Markus!”

The older Mer already had his arms open in anticipation of Connor’s incoming hug. “We don’t know when exactly you were born,” he went on, now holding him. “But this is the anniversary of when the Lieutenant found you.”

“You couldn’t have been more than a few days old anyway,” Hank chimed in. “Close enough.”

“You are officially a year old!” Tina announced. She pulled the string on a confetti popper that she’d pulled from somewhere. Bright colored paper spreading everywhere and sticking to her hair.

Despite his confusion over the whole thing, Connor was soon swept into the festivities. There was cake and decorations, music, and more people than he had ever seen on the Cutlass before. Markus had brought over the whole crew. North loudly exclaimed that there was no way they were going to miss his first birthday. The rest seemed to agree.

A few of his crewmates seemed uneasy having that many Mer aboard, but their tension soon faded away as the party went on. Even Gavin seemed to be having fun.

After playing a few games and eating way too much cake, many of them came forward with gifts for Connor.

No one had ever really given him presents before. Besides Hank that is, but as his father, he didn’t count. Chris gave him a couple new books, Tina got him a plush shark. There were lots of odds and ends, several cards, and well wishes from all involved.

Connor was, in a word, overwhelmed.

Even Captain Fowler gave him a gift. It was an antique sailor’s hat. He told him he was officially a sailor now, part of the crew even if it was in a civilian sense. He also promised a glowing recommendation, and some fudged legal documents, if he wanted to go to the academy to become part of the DPD.

It felt amazing.

As much as Hank had lamented him growing up, saying how he wished he could stay little forever, being an adult, or close to it at least, was proving to be pretty great. If not surprising and confusing.

The biggest surprise of the day, however, came from Gavin.

The party was over, everyone winding down and getting back to work. Markus and his crew had retired to the Jericho. Connor was on his own way back to his cabin when Reed stopped him. “Hey, got a minute?” he asked.

Connor tensed, but turned towards the man. “I… guess.”

Gavin shoved his hands in his pockets, attempting and failing to look casual. “Look I just… I’m sorry I was a jerk to you, ok?”

“You are?” It wasn’t something he expected. Gavin never apologized to anyone.

“Yeah, well…” he shrugged, but still looked tense. “I’ve always had a problem with Mer,” he admitted. “My dad ditched my mom for one. Abandoned us just to chase after some tail. But… that’s not your fault.”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed. It really wasn’t but from what he understood of human psychology, it wasn’t abnormal for him to have reacted that way.

“I guess…” Gavin sighed. “I guess I just wanted you to know I’m gonna try not to be as big of a jerk to you anymore, alright?”

“Ok, it’s not like I’m gonna turn that down,” he reasoned.

Reed bobbed his head in a nod, then looked away. “Right, well. Happy birthday, I guess.”

Connor smiled after him before resuming his previous path to his cabin. Gavin being nice to him. He’d believe it when he saw it, but the thought was nice. Probably the best birthday gift he could ask for.

#dbh connor #tina chen #hank anderson #gavin reed #dbh markus #detroit become human #dbh prompt challenge #dbhthedeepdarkblue

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thatmultifandomhoe · 3 years

Text

It’s You

Pairing: Changkyun and Reader

Group: Monsta X

Word Count: 7,433

Genre/Rating: Valentine’s Day AU - Quarantine AU - Friends to Lovers AU - Fluff - Angst - PG-13

Overview: The last thing you planned to do was celebrate Valentine’s Day. Being single on a holiday that glorified love, especially during a pandemic, was the perfect sign to stay at home to guarantee avoiding having a broken heart. Especially when Changkyun, the one who held it, seemed to have plans of his own.

Warning: Mention of past unrequited love and having a broken heart - swearing -

A/N: Happy - early - Valentine’s Day sweet peas! And yes, Changkyun from Monsta X was the winner of the “Who Do You Want to Spend Valentine’s day With,” and I had so much fun working on this piece. I’m personally not a fan of the holiday - for reasons you’ll read below - but I hope that those of y’all who do celebrate have a happy Valentine’s day, and I hope that y’all enjoy this piece and get all the chocolate that you want this year!

Tagging: @srvdyv @skyys-universe @kpophoneybunny @wheein-whanders @ezralia-writes

Music Playlist:

Main Master List:

Pinterest Mood Board:

The First Installment of the Hoe Catalog.

©thatmultifandomhoe 2021. Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

“Are you okay?”

Glancing over at the cell phone that was propped up on the dresser, you raised an eyebrow at the black screen. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You do know what day it is, right?”

Fingers pausing, you pressed your lips together, staring down at the button of the black jeans you had been in the middle of putting on. You had known what day it was when you went to turn off the alarm that had set for that morning. It had been painfully obvious, and as the pre-recorded song of birds chirping increased in volume, you had stared at the date for longer than you normally do.

February fourteenth.

Valentine’s Day.

“I’ve only been awake for an hour,” you said, stepping towards the closet for a shirt. It had been a miracle that Changkyun had called instead of his preferred method of randomly video calling. While it was true, you had been up for an hour, you had only started moving about to get on with the day about five minutes ago. And currently you were only wearing pants and a black lacy bra. Although, knowing him, he wouldn’t have complained.

There was rustling on his end and the clinking of a spoon hitting a glass. “I know, but I just wanted to make sure. You seemed pretty upset the other day.”

“It’s not that I’m upset…” You slipped your head through the hole of a black smocked square blouse with red flowers printed on it, adjusting the top so it sat properly. “I just...don’t like the holiday.”

Which was putting it mildly. It was more than a dislike, but as you went to look in the mirror to make sure there weren’t any tags sticking out, you silently thanked him for calling. You never hated Valentine’s Day. At its core, it was rather a sweet concept, one that year after year, a part of you hoped that maybe you’d be able to have someone to enjoy the holiday with. But after years of being single on the most romantic day, and having it ruined by dates turned sour, more often than not a dark cloud hovered overhead while you tried to simply get through the day.

You tried to find some spin on it to turn it around. Starting tomorrow and for the next week, chocolate was going to be anywhere from fifty to seventy-percent off. Sales were always fantastic no matter what the reason was. There were only so many chocolate hearts that you were capable of eating though.

“Why are you calling so early?” You said, turning the conversation back to him. It made sense why you were up – even on a Sunday there was always work to be done – for him to be awake before noon, that caused a bit of worry.

“Ah,” there was a thump that echoed on the call like he had dropped his phone, his voice sounding distant. “I have some things to get done today.”

“Yeah, but it’s nine in the morning. I thought you weren’t even coherent before noon.”

Changkyun forced out a laugh and you lightly smiled, gathering your hair into a bun before carrying him into the kitchen. Even though it was a simple phone call and was a bit distorted, it did nothing to dull the fluttering going on by the butterflies in your stomach. His lazy grin came to mind, and only ten minutes into the hour and you were smiling like a fool while stirring your coffee.

That was another reason why you weren’t entirely fond of the holiday. The entire day was dedicated to love, to telling someone that you love them, and here you were, having fallen for your friend and yet you refused to tell him. It was hard to pinpoint when these feelings began, but it was possible that they had been growing since the day you two met.

There was no doubt that you were a workaholic, always feeling weird if you bummed around for more than a few hours, so it made sense that on the rare day off that you took, something had to crash it. You had been indulging in some binge watching of your precious Inuyasha when your phone lit up with an incoming video call from Messenger. Immediately you had been hesitant. None of your friends ever video messaged you since unlike them, your cell was an android.

You hadn’t planned to answer him. Not only did you not recognize the name, or his picture - despite how attractive he appeared - but you didn’t normally answer requests from strangers. With that in mind and mildly annoyed in having to pause the episode, you were ready to hit decline and be on with the day. Except, you were a dumb ass, and hit accept by accident.

Turns out he had meant to call someone else and had been equally shocked when you answered. In fact, he had been less than classy upon seeing you in instead of his friend, the words, ‘oh, fuck me,’ slipping out before he could stop himself.

In normal circumstances, you might have rolled your eyes, or told him to go fuck himself, but it had been six months into the pandemic and he was the first new person that you had met in a while.

“I don’t usually fuck strangers,” you had said instead, not missing the way his eyebrow rose and how his mouth curled upwards in a smile. “But if you wanna buy me a grinder and have it delivered to my place; I might eventually be persuaded.”

There had been a tense moment, but when he let out a breathless chuckle, somehow you knew that you were in the safe zone. Turns out, the two of you had a friend in common who he had meant to call, but he hadn’t been paying attention to what he was doing and accidentally clicked on your profile. The call only lasted for a few more minutes before Changkyun apologized and with an awkward wave, ended it. You stared at his profile picture and next thing you knew, you were scrolling through his pictures, oohing upon finding an old one of him with silver hair and an eyebrow piercing.

A couple hours later, there was a knock at your door and after slipping on a mask, you were greeted with a delivery man that looked no older than sixteen, announcing that he had a grinder for you. Before you could say that you hadn’t ordered anything, he promised that it had already been paid for, tip included. Not one to turn down free food, you accepted it, and saw the note that was taped to the paper bag.

I’m not a weirdo I promise. Jooheon passed along your address, and I’m not about to let someone go hungry. From, a friendly stranger who hit the wrong button.

There was no second guessing on your part. You pulled his profile back up and hit the video button, only having to wait a few seconds before his face filled the screen, locks of black hair falling across his forehead as he ruffled it up.

“Did you seriously send me a grinder?”

“You sounded hungry.”

There was a brief pause, and suddenly you were giggling, shoulders shaking as you sat down on a chair, his own deep chuckles joining in not long after. It was odd, but after that – and after confirming with Jooheon to make sure he wasn’t a creep, which you were assured he wasn’t – the two of you fell into the habit of video chatting. Some days there was nothing to say. With the pandemic raging on and everything closed, it was nice to have someone simply be there after all this time.

Fast forward five months later, the pandemic had only grown worse, and not only had Changkyun proven to be a good friend, but he managed to worm his way into your heart.

“What about you,” Changkyun suddenly asked. “You’re not actually working today, are you? Forget the holiday, it’s Sunday.”

Rolling your eyes, you went back to the bedroom with the black coffee in one hand, and him in the other. “Not all day. I have a few graphics that I want to finish up or it’ll bug me. Should only take a few hours to do.”

“Only a few hours,” he teased. “I’m willing to bet you’ll still be working tonight.”

“Will not.”

“Will too.”

“Not.”

His end grew silent, and he suddenly cleared his throat. “We’ll see about that.”

There was something about that sentence that stopped you from entering the password to your computer. Glancing away from the screen, you stared at Changkyun’s picture, wondering why his voice had softened when he had said that, as if he knew something that you didn’t.

“What is it that you have to do?” You found yourself asking him again, not looking at the keys as you logged into your laptop, the bleeding hearts screensaver appearing as the icons loaded one by one.

“Just some…stuff. I’ll probably be off my phone most of the day.”

“Oh.”

With the amount of phone calls and video chats the two of you had, it had become normal to hear from him a couple times throughout the day. The text chat was filled with various memes, emojis, and conversations that ranged from how much is too much fabric softener? - all the way to late night conversations involving stories about crazy exes, to insecurities, dreams you’ve always wanted to do, and whether or not the world would ever go back to the normal that you both had known prior to March 2020.

Wetting your lips, you leaned back against the desk chair and cradled the mug in both hands. “Well, have fun with whatever you’re doing,” you said, keeping your voice light so he wouldn’t notice the shift in your mood.

It was suddenly so obvious why he wasn’t saying what he had to do. With the holiday approaching, Changkyun had asked if you had any plans for how to spend the day, and with that came your explanation for why you weren’t overly fond of this particular day. The blind dates that ended terribly and being single had been part of the reason why, but there was one particular instance from the past that was determined to ruin Valentines every year for you.

In all the years, there was one person that you had confessed to on Valentines. Jungkook was someone you considered a friend, but you had only told him the truth to get him to shut up about his girlfriend. Up until that afternoon she had been the ex that, from your understanding, despised being in the same room as him anymore. According to him, she showed up at his place with the usual, ‘I miss you,’ and ‘let’s try again,’ and somehow that all managed to lead to wild and hot passionate sex that was, ‘insanely good.’

If only that had been it.

Whether Jungkook got caught up in reliving the moment and forgot who he was talking to, he gave you a play by play of their reunion. From the way she arrived at his door, to the way she felt around him, he told every detail all while you were on the other end of the phone, fingers twisted and tugging at your hair as you sat on the floor of your childhood bedroom. On all the days, the last thing you wanted to hear was your crush talking about having to move to the living room because his bedroom reeked from all their fucking.

The conversation didn’t last much longer, thank god, but you hadn’t been able to grieve because in the other room mom’s voice could be heard as she talked about her day at work. Instead, you forced back the tears and it took everything to not break down when she smiled and handed you an orange teddy bear holding a red heart that said I love you, along with a bag of Lindt chocolates. She was unaware, and while everyone slept, you buried your face into a couple pillows to muffle the sounds of your crying. You were only eighteen and yet you swore your heart collapsed in on itself before exploding into a million glass shards.

“That fucking dick,” Changkyun had said when you told him.

The screen had been bright as the two of you video chatted, and you rubbed your eyes, tired but not ready to go to sleep. He had been doing the rounds of locking up and shutting off the lights while you spoke, only wearing a thin pair black and blue flannel pants. At least he held the phone pretty leveled so you weren’t forced to stare at his torso, but there had been several times where you found your gaze lingering on his muscular body.

“I mean,” you ran a hand through your hair, shrugging as he looked back at you. “It happens to everyone.”

Changkyun frowned though. “No,” he said, his voice gentle but firm at the same time. “No, it doesn’t. And that shouldn’t have happened to you.”

Blinking, you forced the memory away, shifting in your seat to get comfortable once again. Just because you didn’t enjoy the holiday, or didn’t have anyone to spend it with, didn’t mean that was the case with Changkyun. Why else would he be reluctant to say what his plans were? He was probably just being nice and didn’t want to appear like he was rubbing salt into an old wound that refused to heal.

“Hey,” Changkyun’s voice softened again, and as much as you knew you shouldn’t, you wished that he was here, in the apartment with you for him to hold you. “It’s still early in the morning. For all you know, there’s a Mr. Right, who’s going to stumble into your path today.”

You scoffed, the clicking of your mouse echoing in the bedroom. “I mean, I don’t have plans to go out.”

“Surprises can happen you know.”

“Alright Changkyun,” now that the internet was up, you glanced back at the phone. “I gotta get to work. Stay safe out there.”

“Always am. Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

There was a pause, and when you looked back over, the call was still going. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for either of you to leave it going while doing work, the silence was never awkward, it was more comforting than anything, but this time there was a sense of something being left un–

“You look pretty today,” Changkyun said suddenly.

Blinking, your fingers tightened around the mouse as your heart raced. “What? You can’t even see me Changkyun.”

“So?”

“I could be wearing my pajamas for all you know,” your voice faltered, and despite the constriction of wearing jeans, you pulled your legs up on to the chair to hug them to your chest.

“I’ve already seen you in your pajamas,” he joked. “You’re still pretty though.”

He was smiling. You knew for certain that he was, and that made your palms turn clammy, forcing you to wipe them against the pant leg.

“Maybe I’m not, wearing clothes?” Internally you slapped yourself, instantly regretting those words, and perhaps your entire existence at this point. It was still early. Instead of work, maybe you could possibly bury yourself under all the blankets and never answer his phone calls again.

Hearing shuffling coming from the phone, you pressed your lips together, not entirely sure if you wanted to hear what he had to say.

“Are you trying to keep me from my plans today?” His voice deepened and if it weren’t for the fact that you were already sitting down, you were certain that you’d be on the floor.

“No, I’m just stupid,” you blurted out, slamming your hand over your mouth.

Changkyun chuckled, and suddenly the phone seemed closer to him because his voice became clearer. “I think you’re trying to seduce me.”

Oh god. No. It was absolutely the other way around. He was the one who had the advantage on his side, between the lip bites and the selfies he sent that captured his jawline that was perfect to cut glass with. Whether it was his godly features, or when the two of you were video chatting and he rolled onto his stomach and face planted himself into the pillow, you fell for him every time.

“Know what?” You rushed to say, ignoring his laughter. “I have work and you have things to do. Stay safe, and I’ll talk to you later. Bye!”

There was no hesitation. This time you slammed your finger on the end call button and for extra measure, tossed it away and on the bed, letting it disappear among the sea of messy blankets.

Shakily sighing, you slid further down in the chair as the edge of the desk pinned your legs to your chest to keep from falling to the ground. He had never said anything like that before. Sure, there were times where he’d see you do something or when you’d ramble on about a show or work, he’d might say cute, but that always felt like an afterthought.

“Damn it Changkyun,” you said, glaring at where you had thrown the phone and hating the fact that his words kept circling around your mind, making you feel incredibly warmer than you had been ten minutes earlier. Hating that while he was probably going to be on a date with some pretty girl who was worth his time, you were at home, working on a Sunday, wishing that the guy you hadn’t even met in person was here and telling you that in-between kisses.

You ran a hand over your face with a groan, fingers of course getting caught in the bun briefly as you sat up. There was work to be done, and with a click of the mouse, the programs you needed quickly opened up. It was fairly easy, and if you focused, would only take an hour, maybe even less to get done. But with Changkyun on the brain, all you wanted to do was curl back up under the messy blankets and daydream about him. About what it would be like to hug him, to hear his voice in person, and perhaps, spend a Valentine’s day with someone who wouldn’t let you down.

That wasn’t going to happen though. It was a daydream and nothing more.

Lacing your fingers together, you quickly turned them inward, groaning in satisfaction at the loud crack that emitted from the joints. Outside the window that the desk was placed in front of, the sun had already begun its descent for the night. The sky was painted in splashes of orange with lazy clouds slipping in, the remaining bits of blue falling steadily behind.

Despite what Changkyun had predicted, he was only partially correct. With him swimming freely in your mind, you had been distracted, lost in a hazy daydream that made it impossible to focus on the graphics that you were trying to finish up. More often than not you stepped away from the desk, feet guiding you to the other room or in small twirls with the faintest lovesick smile. It was impossible to get anything done. So, you said fuck it. It was Sunday after all, and you weren’t expected to have those scheduled to be posted for a few days. Where was the harm in having one day to yourself? One with no work whatsoever to stress you out?

With work out of the way and having no other plans, another cup of coffee had been made and in the spirit of the holiday, your gaze had lingered on the makeup that sat on the dresser. Most of it had gone unused as the weeks melted into months. Tubes of lipstick and eye shadow palettes once loved had been forgotten about, and as you recalled, the brushes that you typically forgot to clean had been washed out of pure boredom. It was with new motivation that you grabbed a majority of the collection and hopped onto the counter in the bathroom, music playing from a playlist filled with songs from your younger years that held nostalgia, and simply played around with the colors.

By the time you were done, an hour had gone by, and you gained two cut creases with glitter, contoured cheeks, painted your lips, and looked like you were ready to go out for a date out in the city to be wined and dined. Instead, you slipped on a pair of fuzzy socks and slid into the kitchen with plans to see what frozen meal the freezer had to offer. If anything, it had the bare bones of a date. The location? Your couch. The hot leading man? Most likely the main character from whatever show you finally decided on after you gave a good scroll through Netflix. All you needed was utter disappointment and it could be considered a success.

You were torn between making the decision for frozen lasagna or chicken Alfredo, but a sudden and loud knock at the door stopped you. Eyebrows pulling in confusion, you carefully set the food on the counter, taking a moment to slip on the mask that you left hanging on the doorknob for situations like this. Not that they occurred often. With the exception of having food delivered, once the world realized that this pandemic wasn’t just a simple flu and doctors encouraged people to stay home, you hadn’t invited anyone over. It was lonely, and you missed your friends and family greatly, but this wasn’t a situation to take lightly.

“I’m sorry,” you said, opening the door once the fabric mask was securely on. “I think you might have the wrong…”

And you stopped. Stopped talking and stared. Stared at the man leaning against your door frame, wearing a black as ink suit jacket, a pristine white button up shirt was tucked into matching black pants, with the top several buttons undone to reveal a tanned and toned chest that you knew he took pride in considering all the gym selfies he sent. The black fabric mask he wore hid most of his face, but the corners of his eyes were crinkled together.

“I think I’m right where I’m supposed to be,” Changkyun said, his deep voice sounding better in real life than you had expected, and dreamed of.

He pushed off of the frame and it was then that you noticed the things in his hands. In the left, was a plastic bag stuffed with packaged containers, and in the right…in his right wrapped in pink tissue paper was a bouquet of red and pink carnations with babies’ breath mixed in. There had to be at least a dozen, perhaps a baker’s dozen, if not a few extra.

There were no words. After all the books you consumed to pass the time, articles you searched for work, and even countless texts sent to friends, everything escaped you at that very moment because he was here. He was actually here and standing in front of you.

“I know you said you haven’t had anyone over since this started. But I got tested a couple days ago, came back negative, and we’ve both been working from home this entire time so if you want…” Changkyun lifted the bag he held into view and this time, you could see that even though it was triple bagged, you were able to make a red dragon printed on the cartons. “I have Chinese food, and I’m willing to bet that Netflix has something for us to watch. If you’re not comfortable though that’s fine. I have plenty of food that we can—”

Except he didn’t get to finish what he was saying before you tugged him into the apartment by his arm. Immediately, your arms wound their way around his waist and you pressed your face into his chest, tightly hugging him.

“It’s you,” you said, feeling his right arm carefully rest on your back to hold you close, all while being mindful of the flowers that he was carrying.

There was a soft chuckle from above as he laid his head on top of yours. “It’s good to finally see you too.”

Smiling, your arms tightened around him once more before you stepped backwards, letting him enter the apartment completely. “You didn’t have to bring flowers you know.”

“And show up empty handed?”

You gestured towards the table for him to set the food down, taking the flowers and going to the sink. “You bought Chinese food. That more than would have made up for no flowers.” But while the vase filled with water and you trimmed the stems, gently adding them in one by one, there was a warmth spreading within your chest that came right from the heart, even more so when he chuckled. The only people to ever buy you flowers on Valentine’s day were your parents.

Like always, the silence that followed felt natural. The only difference was that you were aware that Changkyun was moving around in the kitchen with you, getting plates and silverware out without having to ask where things were because he had seen you do the same thing countless times before while video chatting. You just never thought he was actually paying attention.

When they were all in the vase, you tossed the ends in the trash and turned around, only to see that once again, he was watching you.

“Why are you staring?”

Changkyun shrugged, running a hand through his hair as the black locks fell right back into his eyes. “I was right.”

Tilting your head, you walked over to the table and set the vase in the center. You were already so close to him, but he leaned his head down, the black fabric of his mask brushing against the top of your ear.

“That you look pretty,” he said softly. “And it’s not because of the makeup. I had a feeling you might dress up today; you look beautiful.”

The air that you had been breathing was instantly stolen, and when you made the mistake of looking up at him, you realized just how close the two of you were. If it weren’t for the masks you both wore…

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” you teased, trying to not glance at where his lips would be. “You’re a lot taller than messenger video makes you out to be.”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. Straightening up, Changkyun slipped his suit jacket off and set it on the back of a chair to undo the buttons on his cuffs, taking the time to roll each sleeve up to his elbows. “You’re meaner in person.”

Good god. You knew that he worked out, but damn. Maybe not for the first couple weeks, eventually Changkyun fell into the habit of sending selfies while he was working out at the gym. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, but seeing his tanned arms and the white sleeve making its way up to his elbow, it sparked the butterflies and gave them a newfound fluttering energy.

“Do you wanna eat or not?” Not thinking of it, you reached up to unhook the elastic from around your ears, removing the mask and setting it back on the counter. With a glance up at him, you saw him raise an eyebrow before he mimicked your movements to take off his own mask, revealing the jaw that tempted your daydreams in more ways than you wished.

He smiled, and you handed him his plate and together, the two of you fixed up heaping plates of Chinese food, using the concept of needing to eat to distract yourself. Everything was still hot and as you settled on the couch, steam curled its way up into the air.

“Were you able to get your secret plans done today?” You asked, glancing over at him while Netflix loaded up on the TV screen.

“Why are you so interested in what I had to do?” He was focused on the dumpling that he held with the chopsticks, not meeting your gaze at all.

It wasn’t that you meant to be focused on that. But he had acted so suspicious on the phone earlier, and now he was here, having dinner in your apartment with enough Chinese food to cost a small fortune, along with sixteen carnations – yes, you counted while cutting them – on Valentine’s Day. There had been no warning, and as much as you wanted to believe that he was here for more than a friendly drop in, the idea of him having been on a date earlier in the day and was here to talk about it, about the possible other girl, killed the butterflies. You had already been through this once, you didn’t want to go through it again. Not with him.

Scrolling through the list of suggestions, you didn’t notice Changkyun looking over at you, or the way his face softened. His fingers tightened around the chopsticks and he leaned back against the cushion.

“What’s that one about?” He nodded towards one of the movies that was in the watch again section.

You raised an eyebrow, scrolling over to it. “Please don’t tell me that you’ve never seen Love Actually?”

“If I did, would I have asked what it’s about?”

Unable to stop yourself, an undignified sound escaped you as you wildly gestured with the remote. “How? It’s like the sweetest romance, Christmas movie ever. They play it every year. It even has Liam Neeson, the man promising to find and kill everyone, as a sweet dad who doesn’t kill anyone! That alone is a true Christmas miracle by itself.”

The thought of him being with someone else dissipated at the sound of his laughter. Even caught up in the excitement of this particular movie, you couldn’t stop the smile that grew. No matter what, even in real life or over video, you always found yourself grinning the second he laughed or smiled. He was without a doubt contagious, in the best way possible.

“What are you waiting for?” He said, gesturing towards the screen with the chopsticks, shoulders relaxing at the sight of your smile and apparent joy for the film. One that he had in fact, seen a few times over the years. “Press play.”

There was no hesitation. You were determined to culture him in what you deemed to be a classic in romance films. So, as you comfortably settled in, belly growing full of warm and delicious food, you once again missed Changkyun’s wide smile. It was the kind of grin that no matter what he did, or how serious he tried to be, simply wouldn’t go away.

The empty dinner plates sat long forgotten about on the coffee table as another movie played, this one involving an action pack fight scene with aliens in New York City. Hours had passed since Changkyun arrived at your door, and despite it growing late and Valentine’s Day was nearing its end, his polished shoes were unlaced and tossed on the floor. A wine bottle had been opened up, and you sat much closer to him to share a blanket with him. You were blaming it on the wine for being so bold because when he stretched an arm on the back of the couch, you didn’t think twice about gently leaning your head against it.

You couldn’t even really blame it on the wine. It was the first glass for both of you, and you were a slow drinker, so you were as sober as a newborn lamb at the moment.

It was just like when the two of you would video chat with the same movie on, but so much better. Having him here, you were noticing the smallest things that you’d miss when on the phone. At the base of his neck was a small mole that you never realized he had, or that he was wearing two thin silver chains – a pair that, now that you thought about it, he never went without. Behind you, he’d occasionally rub his fingers together and the metal of his bracelet would lightly clink against itself. With the few glances that you stole, his attention was solely on the movie and his jaw appeared to be pressed together.

Feeling a sudden weight, you turned to see him settling his arm around your shoulders. His wrist was now hanging over your arm, and it took all your willpower to not reach up with a free hand to lace your fingers loosely with his. When you glanced back up at him, he was in mid sip of his wine, throat bobbing with each swallow.

Shit. This was not helping the butterflies that seemed to have multiplied since his arrival.

Changkyun raised an eyebrow when he lowered his glass, softly humming in question, but you only shook your head and focused back on the movie. Except, now you were hyper aware that he was looking at you this time.

“What’s wrong?” He murmured, his thumb and fingers lightly rubbing against your arm.

That was another thing. His voice was deep. In the calls, the phone occasionally cracked and had made it seem lighter, but it appeared to be just the opposite. He was blessed with a voice that was able to drop lower than a bass, sending your insides to mush when he spoke. It was the type of voice that was destined to recite poetry and old sonnets, to hold three in the morning conversations that went wherever and everywhere. When he called your name, it never failed to send tingles running the length of your body. It was his voice, and you knew that you’d never grow tired of hearing him talk.

“Nothing. I was just thinking,” you said, leaning your head back, his arm comfortable and warm as you looked up at the ceiling, trying to avoid his gaze for a few seconds.

His fingers didn’t stop. The gentle caress, a small reassurance that he was in fact here and this wasn’t your imagination, made it harder to stay where you sat instead of curling into his side like you wanted.

“Thinking about what?”

Letting out a breathless scoff, you tilted your head towards him. Changkyun was a sight to see and you knew that if this was the only time you got to spend with him in person, you were never going to forget this moment.

Your smile softened. “That you’re actually here, after all these months of texts and video calls. You actually came here, and you’re real.”

“Did you think I was a robot or something?” Changkyun teased, but his fingers stopped moving, and that lock of hair fell back into his eyes again.

“Well, you did accidentally call me instead of Jooheon and last time I checked, we look nothing alike.” There was no thinking as you reached up and mimicked his movements to push that damn lock back, feeling how soft his hair was. It brought you a little bit closer to him and in that second, the world suddenly felt like it was no longer moving when you glanced down at his lips. Those pink lips that you wondered and dreamt about night after night, too curious for your own good on what it would be like to kiss him. Now was your chance to find out, especially when he didn’t lean back and appeared to be getting closer.

“Cookies?” You suddenly asked, leaning back to see his eyebrows start to pull together in confusion. Heart racing, you set your wine glass on the coffee table and walked around the couch to step into the kitchen. With only your back to him, you quietly let out a shaky breath. “I know I have some for us to munch on…”

Opening up a cabinet, you stretched on to your toes to search for the package of cookies that you knew were in there, mentally slapping yourself at having done that. He hadn’t backed away, hadn’t tried to stop you, in fact, if you allowed yourself to believe it, you would have recalled that he had started to lean in when you randomly brought up cookies. As much as you wanted to, the last thing you wanted was to lose your friendship.

You were pushing aside a box of crackers when his hand captured your wrist, halting your search. It felt like your heart was about to leap out of its cage when his fingers gently wrapped around your hand, and when his palm settled on a hip, it was equally as comforting as it lit a spark inside you. There was nothing you wanted to do more than to melt into his embrace.

“Sweetheart, do you really think I’m here to just hang out?” He asked, his voice low as he spoke into your ear, his body stepping closer to yours.

“You’re…you’re not?” You weakly asked, nervous because you didn’t want this all to be a joke.

The idea of this being a one night only thing thanks to the holiday left an ache in your bones. You wanted more nights like this with him, wanted to hear him call out your name with that gentle smile of his over and over again. Dammit, you wanted to wake up and have the blankets be stifling hot but not care as you crawled over to his side of the bed, searching for morning cuddles because fuck the person who decided that the workday would start at eight in the morning. The only person you wanted to spend this quarantine with, to be able to touch, to be worried and even scared about all this with, was Changkyun.

Changkyun’s breath hit the back of your neck as he softly chuckled, sending a shiver down your spine. “God, I thought I was being obvious. Let me try this differently.”

Still holding on to your wrist, he turned you around and once you were facing him, let go of your hand to step closer until your back was against the counter. With each breath your chest brushed against his, and when he pushed the hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear, fingers brushing against your cheek, you almost forgot to breathe.

“I know you’ve always had a pretty crappy Valentine’s day,” Changkyun softly spoke. His gaze was steady with yours, and even though he was being serious, there was a softness to his features that had the corner of his mouth curling upwards. “And I thought that the best way to keep that from repeating this year, would be if you spent it with someone, who loves you.”

Who loves…oh.

It suddenly all made sense. Why he didn’t want to say what he was doing to celebrate, him calling you pretty, the food and flowers, the coaxing touches, he could have rented a billboard and put up a neon flashing sign and you probably still would have been blind.

“Changkyun,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek.

He softly smiled as he closed the remaining space between you to rest his forehead against yours, his palms sliding along your body until he had you wrapped in a hug. “There you go, now you get it.”

Giggling, you rolled your eyes out of habit. It was like him to be a smart ass during a moment like this. With that being said, the butterflies fluttered their way up to your heart, and all the daydreams that you entertained and thought nothing would come of them, now had the possibility of becoming reality.

“I love you too,” you said, running your thumb along his cheek as you watched his smile widen.

There was no hesitation, or smart ass comments this time. Instead, when his lips met yours in a kiss, your heart stopped racing. The butterflies finally calmed down and the world around you went out of focus as your fingers slid through his hair. His lips were soft, and thanks to the red wine, there was a lingering tangy sweetness that reminded you of raspberries. You found yourself becoming addicted to his taste, the kisses melting together until you lost track of how long the two of you stood there, content with doing nothing but being wrapped up in each other’s embrace.

A clock chimed out in the apartment, breaking the kiss which only served to make you pout at the loss of his lips. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Changkyun, who smirked before leaning down to give one more kiss, which quickly turned into two, then three.

“Don’t you have work in the morning?” He murmured, resting his forehead once more against yours.

“You trying to kiss and dash?”

His fingers gently pressed into your sides and you squirmed at his touch, giggling at his antics. However, he leaned his head back and sighed. “Like hell I’d do that. But you usually wake up earlier for work, and trust me, I’ll end up keeping you awake if I stay the night.”

There was no doubt about that, and to be truthful, you’d have no issue if that was the case. He was right, but as ideas turned in your mind, you shrugged. “You can’t go out driving though,” you said softly. “You were drinking.”

Changkyun frowned, head tilting as he removed a hand from your back to run through his hair. “Not even a whole glass.”

You raised an eyebrow. It took him having to say he loved you for you to understand how he felt about you despite his dine and wine attempt, and here he was, completely missing what you were suggesting. Either you were absolutely perfect for each other, or equally dense.

“Well, we also broke quarantine,” you said slowly, slipping a finger through his belt loop at the same time to bring him closer. “Isn’t the recommendation to stay at home for what, at least three days?”

He started to tilt his head, mouth opening to question what you were saying until he saw the smile growing on your face. Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips together before looking back at you.

“That was horrible,” Changkyun said. He slipped his arms back around you, pulling you away from the counter. His grin said otherwise. “At least I tried being romantic.”

“Well, I mean, if you really want to go back to your place by yourself…”

He didn’t let you say another word, his lips reclaiming yours again, because there was absolutely nothing that felt better than kissing you after months of dreaming what it would be like.

“Don’t go,” you softly murmured against his lips. “Not when you just got here.”

Maybe it was selfish. But you didn’t want to be alone again. Not when he had gone through so much trouble to make this night special, not when you finally knew that he felt the same way about you. After almost a year of staying inside the apartment whenever you could, of going without hugs or get togethers, being able to touch and kiss Changkyun felt like you were relearning what those were all over again. All you wanted was a few days with him.

Changkyun hummed, his arms tightening around you. “Sweetheart, I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” he said, gazing down at you as if he had considered the same thing.

The clock that had rang out to announce the hour of a new day and that Valentine’s day was over, continued to quietly tick in the other room. The Earth continued to spin, and outside, the world was exactly how it had been this morning, full of fear, what ifs, and the unknown of a pandemic that didn’t seem to be going anywhere any time soon.

But inside that small apartment, wrapped in Changkyun’s arms, giggles and laughter filled the walls when he pulled you to the middle of the kitchen and spun you around for a late-night dance. It might not be the thing that changes the world, but for the first time, in a long time, hope began to blossom alongside the butterflies in your stomach. The memories of past Valentine’s days melted away at his kiss, until only the memory of him at your door remained.

Even when it hadn’t felt like it, love and hope had always been there. And now it was here promising lovelier days to come.

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a-purple-lizard · 3 years

Text

Assassinating Death (Part 1)

Noob Saibot X female slave reader

I’m debating wether so make a 10-15 chapter long fanfiction about this. If anybody would like to see a fanficion with this concept, please tell me!

Noob Saibot, the ruler of destiny rules all of existence, turning the worthy into revenant warriors and enslaving the weak. S/o is one of the ‘weak’ that he enslaved. Determined to put a stop to the cruel tyrant, s/o devises a plan to kill him. After all, why would a god suspect a pitiful slave of treason? (GIF by me! Taken from the MK11 arcade ending)

The rattle of her own chains was all s/o could hear inside the hollow castle walls. The air tasted of ash and death, as it always had. The woman was hastily scrubbing the stone floor, the rough sound falling on deaf ears as s/o remained focused on the man behind her. A tall soulless husk that watched her intently, looking for some opportunity to punish her.

S/o wouldn’t allow it. Not again. She already had exactly thirty two scars on her back from her punishment. The slave attire forced all to wear open back leather tops as a way to easily punish slaves as well as provide warning to others. Her hair was clipped so that it did not go past her neck, leaving her scars for the world to see.

A stone collar was wrapped around her throat, a purple stone in the center of it marked her as an obsidian place slave. Cold metal chains connected her hands, allowing them only about a foot of distance apart.

The obsidian palace was a jagged spire that towered over the smoke clouds. Nobody really knew how far up it went. Well, nobody but noob saibot, keeper of time, ruler of existence and bringer of death. He was the cruel shadow whose fowl touch defiled the world, turning it grey and dead.

It was he who controlled the immortal servants, or “blank souls” as the slaves called them. Blank souls were husk, vessels that carried out the dark lords will. They were each hand chosen by the lord at seemingly random. Nobody was really sure WHY he chose who he chose, but he was always very sure about his choices.

One thing was sure however, once you were chosen, there was no argument or revolt. Your soul belonged to HIM. When somebody was chosen, they disappeared for MONTHES and when they returned, they weren’t the same. Milky eyes, pale skin, no emotional connection to their friends and family.

“You! Girl! Come with me.” A cold voice came from behind her.

Turning around, she was met with a blank soul. He wore red and yellow robes, silver armor plated his legs and arms. A black hood shrouded his upper face, his dead milky eyes seemed to glow in the shadows. An armored mask hid whatever expression he had to offer.

S/o bowed her head, as everyone had to do when a blank soul addressed them. She didn’t waste a second, abandoning her cleaning supplies and wordlessy following the blank soul out of the room, leaving behind the other blank soul who just stood there, waiting for the next slave shift to start.

The slave was led down the hall to the center staircase that traveled from the dungeons below, all the way up to the tip of the tower, the throne room.

S/o had never been past the thirty fourth floor in the hundred story tower. Only blank souls were permitted to travel to the top ten floors. A few slaves were permitted to cleanse the rooms in the top ten floors, but the ones who did never returned. Most assumed that the ruler of time forced them to live up there as well.

Cold obsidian tile made her bare feet ache as they climbed the stairs upwards. S/o didn’t dare gaze at the man beside her. His footsteps were silent, undetectable to the ear as he went.

After about twenty minutes of climbing, the blank soul halted. The symbols carved into a metal plate showed the number ninety nine. “Bow when your god addresses you. To disrespect noob saibot is to willingly submit yourself to the worst punishment imaginable.”

S/o nodded her head in the most boot licking of ways. The blank soul observed her for a second before starting to walk up the stairs again. There it was, floor one hundred.

The icy fear that repeatedly stabbed her with each rapid heartbeat was almost debilitating as she stepped into the open space.

It was a plain room, pillars only decorated with the symbol of the shadow empire, and a single long rug running from the stairs to the… throne.

Dark jagged crystals spurred upwards in such unnatural ways, at the end of the highest tip lay a skull with a single thick strip of gold plating at the top. Sitting on the throne was him.

The god of all. Killer of all. Noob Saibot, ruler of the shadow empire. S/o threw herself to her knees as the blank soul led her to the shadow shrouded emperor. “Slave.” His voice shook her to her very core. “Did it offer any resistance during retrieval, Hanzo?”

“None at all. She is ready to fulfill her duties.” The blank soul, ‘Hanzo’ responded. The king nodded, the light seemed to drain from the air around him. Without another word, hanzo exited the throne room, heading down a dark hallway behind the throne. S/o was now at the mercy of a tyrant god.

The atmosphere thickened, s/o felt her body shake in her submissive form. All four limbs touched the ground, her lips almost kissed the carpet below. She didn’t dare look up.

“Slave, you have been bestowed the greatest honor of personally serving me.” Something in his voice held a sort of… interest? S/o couldn’t detect any facial expressions due to his head being covered in a helmet, as well as a dark vail.

The slave couldn’t find words that she deemed usable in his presence. She was too terrified to even think. “Unless my generosity doesn’t interest you?”

The dark edge to his voice made s/o want to burst out in tears and beg for her life. “N-no! Thank you so much for even considering giving somebody such as myself any thought! I swear, I will not disappoint you, my lord!”

“I know.” He said simply. “Kuai Liang! Escort it to its new quarters and explain its new purpose to its empire.”

A figure was suddenly behind her, s/o was pulled to her feet by her elbow. She was met by a blue clad blank soul. ‘Kuai Liang’ didn’t say a word as he took hold of her chains and led her to the spiral staircase. S/o could feel the lords gaze boring into her back as she left.

Kuai Liang led her down the stairs, his rough voice echoed through the quiet environment. “You will be given your own quarters on the ninety first floor. You will wake up everyday at exactly five in the morning, you will clean floors ninety-one through ninety-five. At twelve, you will be permitted to eat.” He explained. “At one, you will resume your cleaning, the ninety sixth floor and the one hundredth floor, as well as every floor in between.”

The two of them stopped at the ninety first floor. It looked to be some sort of dining hall. Blank souls littered the area, some were eating, others simply sat around and… socialized? S/o was dumbfounded, the slaves had always assumed that blank souls were nothing but empty husks yet, here they were, laughing and joking.

She didn’t have time to gawk before she was dragged past the large dining hall to a simply lit hall. There were a multitude of doors lining it, a few were open to reveal blank souls casually in their rooms. S/o and Kuai Liang stopped at the end of the hall.

“This will be your new quarters. Inside you will find everything you will require, as well as your new uniform.” He stated, opening the door.

“A new… uniform?” She asked, confused.

“You are now a personal slave to the king and his warriors, you are expected not to look like a common rat.” He growled. “You are now held to higher standards, failure to complete your duties within the desired time range will result in your immediate termination and replacement.”

She swore she saw his face soften for only a moment when he saw the look of hopeless fear of her face. “As a personal slave you are also entitled to certain privileges. No warrior can take it upon themselves to punish you without express permission from the lord of darkness. No warrior may harass you in any way.” He continued, “after all your daily duties are done, you are free to roam the top ten floors, as long as you do not disturb any warriors.”

He gestured to her room, allowing her to slip past him to inspect it. “You are free to explore for the rest of today. Tomorrow you will be assigned a warrior to make sure that your expectations are met.” Without another word, Kuai Liang was gone.

S/o was left alone. She collapsed into the soft bed, staring up at the ceiling, debating whether to cry or smile. She had been within spitting distance of the man who she despised above all else. The man who had caused so much ruin and heartbreak. The man who she now had the opportunity to kill...

Part 2

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #noob saibot x reader #noob saibot #kitana #mk raiden #raiden #kung lao #lui kang #mk kabal #sindel #mk fujin #lord fujin #kuai liang

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bruh-haikyuu · 4 years

Text

REQUEST: Can I request Bokuto with a soft & short manager s/o and she always helps the team cheer bokuto up when hi is in emo mode and like a lot of fluff🥺👉👈

A/N: Tumblr is being a whore with their Keep Reading button, putting it on the ask and shit smh. So I apologize for the repost.

alate. | bokuto kōtarō

word count: 1776

warnings: none

(adj.) having wings; lifted up in flight

Official match protocols only allowed one manager on the court for each team. Fukurodani Academy’s Boys’ Volleyball team always had their lenient but reliable third year managers to get the job done. Third-years Yukie and Kaori had been your final salvation against the inevitable fate of having to care for the raucous boys alone. But today with some lucky fortune of theirs, they’d somehow coerced you into taking their place.

“...Will I experience any internal combustions by the end of the match?”

The three of you stood in a personal circle at the entrance to the gym. The three managers of Fukurodani, with your two seniors looming over you like two scheming birds of prey. They didn’t even have to ask why you were so worried; despite being a second-year, this was your first time to stand on the court with the team instead of panicking on your own on the sidelines. This time, you were in the game, up-close-and-personal.

“You’ll do fine~” Yukie grinned, raising her right hand in a lazy ‘OK’ gesture. “Besides, you’re a total expert when it comes to giving Bokuto a good knock in the head.”

If Bokuto’s vanity was a chronic disease, he’d need more than just a “good knock in the head” to be cured. But Yukie wasn’t wrong. Your praises, in comparison to the others’, had a quicker, more powerful effect on the ace. Though you weren’t sure if that skill of yours was more of a blessing than a curse...

“W-well, I’ll do my best,” you muttered, fiddling with the hem of your track jacket. Your seniors exchanged a look before smiling softly at you.

“Oh, and one more thing!” Kaori piped up as you lugged the bag full of empty bottles over your shoulder. “Can you act a bit bashful when you’re complimenting the captain?

“Why’s that, Kaori-san?”

“Bokuto thinks you look cute when you’re embarrassed.”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

‘Cute’? What did that even mean? Did Bokuto always think people were ‘cute’ whenever they flash a single praise at him? Not that you remembered... What’s with that, you grumbled, angrily trying to get the concept into your skull.

Your eyes darted back to the court where—much to your distress—the other team just had to be painfully good at blocks. Now, you just hoped that the boys wouldn’t get too disgruntled.

The score was 12-15, with Torasaka Metropolitan High in the lead. Though Fukurodani had obtained their twelfth point with a lucky read on Torasaka’s setter dump, things were obstinately bleak for your team.

“I want to try it!” you heard Bokuto exclaim excitedly. From afar, you could already spot a few sullen scowls begin to form on his teammates’ faces. “Hey, ‘Kaashi, do you want to try that block with me?”

The setter sent you a pained expression enough for guilt to comically swallow you whole. Returning his attention to the ace who’s practically bouncing on his heels, Akaashi sighed. “Bokuto-san, let’s focus on our normal blocks first.”

A child! you thought incredulously as you watched the captain stick out his tongue at him. Though Bokuto was particularly a sight to behold when he’s in top form, just how confident could he be, trying something so risky in a middle of a tight match? Or was he just a complete and utter numbskull? You thought he was rather amazing for the juxtaposition... in a Bokuto fashion, of course.

As Washio prepared to serve, you watched the ace literally vibrate with eagerness of having such an “interesting enemy”. Whenever Bokuto got extremely fired up, it was your inevitable fate that you just couldn’t look away. The way his jersey hugged his hulking frame as he flexed his muscles in preparation to follow the path of the ball, it was nearly bewitching. If he had been like this his entire life, you were sure your heart wouldn’t take being with Bokuto for a mere second.

“It’s up!” Torasaka’s libero signaled, cleanly receiving Washio’s serve (much to the player’s frustration).

In your memory, Torasaka High wasn’t a much known threat until just recently. “Their new first years block like a fort,” you remembered what Coach Yamiji had said in the bus that morning. Despite far from being as crafty as Nohebi or as versatile as Nekoma, Tokyo teams were a force to be reckoned with.

What a terrifying sport, you thought to yourself for what seemed to be the fifth time this month.

“Left! Left!”

On the other side of the court, Sarukui, Bokuto and Akaashi scrambled to follow the ball’s trajectory. Though you were only a rookie in this entire volleyball thing, you were quick to notice that Bokuto’s footsteps were a bit smaller and slower than the first two...

Wait, is he planning to delay the timing of his block now?!

It was definitely a quick from the other side. It was evident, even to you. And when the two jumped to block the ball with their ace lagging behind, the ball had already streaked over him at a dangerous angle. Point Torasaka.

Landing on the pads of his feet, Akaashi’s expression shifted between “candidly annoyed” and “visibly concerned” as he watched the captain raise his head for his team to see.

“You’re kidding me...” Sarukui groaned under his breath. Behind him, the others followed promptly with their own reactions of disbelief.

His infamous salt-and-pepper hair deflating alongside his shoulders, Bokuto whined, loud enough for you to hear from the benches. “The hell... I thought I had that block mastered. Why’d they have to make it look so easy?”

Time-out! Akaashi turned to you and the coach a with pleading stare, hard enough for your supervising teacher to shoot upwards and signal the referee for their second break of the match.

Groaning, you stuffed your face in your hands, hoping that your senior managers in the audience were praying for your good health.

“What were you thinking?!” Coach Yamiji hissed, giving the sulking ace a well-deserved smack to the side of his head. Bokuto didn’t even flinch. “You could’ve—”

“Coach. Let me.”

Snapping his head in your direction, the old man grew pale when he heeded the dark aura that spewed from your body. Even the others, though they were only watching the entire event go down, was hyper-aware of the invisible, nightmarish fog that came with your frustration.

You’d always seemed so sweet and indulgent, never angry. Never. And yet Bokuto had finally gotten you to drop the tether that held your patience together.

Walking to Bokuto, you sent him a scowl so cold, he forgot how to blink. The rest of the team, the coach, your teacher and even Yukie and Kaori in the stands shivered from the sudden gust of frosty air that oozed from you. Some of the audience surprisingly turned their heads to watch the spectacle of the tiny Fukurodani manager who seemed like she was about to trample on their ace.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

“Bokuto, you—!”

You froze. No. If you scolded him now, that only make matters worse. Bokuto didn’t fare well when he was scolded by Kaori or Yukie either. Besides, you were his manager, not his mother. But what else were you going to do?

Bokuto thinks you look cute when you’re embarrassed.

Swallowing a nagging lump in your throat, you recalled the words of your seniors. Embarrassed? How do you do embarrassed? Was that even a thing you could pull off manually? Taking in a deep breath, you tightened your fist before loosening them in front of your body. Something was better than nothing.

“B-Bokuto-senpai...?”

“Senpai?!” the others snapped towards you, jaws on the floor. Even Bokuto was stunned.

Eyeing his interested gaze, you continued, fidgeting bashfully, “Bokuto-senpai’s such a slob... If you just listened to the others... you’d be a lot cooler...”

Komi tugged at the back of Konoha’s jersey, whispering in the blonde one’s ear, “She’s pulling out the ‘Cute Tsundere’ card!”

Stupefied, the wing spiker muttered, “Bokuto’s actually taking the bait... Scary. L/N-san’s scary.”

And take the bait he did. You didn’t even realize how red you were with the way he was looking at you—and the shade was fully unintentional, much to your chagrin. But Bokuto’s sullen mood was far gone, replaced with the brighter interest of infatuation.

“A lot cooler...?” Bokuto savored your words in his tongue, before whipping out both his hands to grab at your shoulders. “Y-You think I’m cool?!”

You didn’t even have to pretend to be shy anymore. The close contact of his skin, the scent of his sweat mingled with the musky aroma of his cologne and the pinkish tint on his cheeks. It was too much, and you soon wondered if Bokuto had always seemed this charming to you.

“Y-you airhead! Of course I do,” you mumbled, lowering your sight to the floor. “You’re already really good at volleyball, but you do things like forcing yourself to do a block you can’t do just because you want attention and... and now everyone has to bear that burden.”

“Please go on a date with me.”

You flinched in his grasps. This was escalating much faster than you’d hoped it would. Unable to register what he had said, you asked him to repeat himself.

“The cute Y/N-chan thinks I’m cool. That’s like a dream come true, right? So if I become cool again, won’t you go on a date with me?”

How unbelievable. One second he almost reminded you of the small boy that lived below your apartment, and the next he was like some sort of phantom thief, ready to whisk you away from the confines of your castle and steal your heart. You smiled earnestly; Bokuto Koutarou really was a man of many wonders.

Slipping yourself away from his grip, you raised an index finger between his eyes. “If you win... I’ll consider it.”

Like a phoenix rising from its ashes, the ace lit up once more. Revived, renewed, and heart set on taking you out. While dragging Akaashi back onto the court, Bokuto made it a point that he was looking at you all the way. You giggled. What an interesting person.

From the stands, your gaze traced the motto of Fukurodani’s Volleyball Club. Pour all your soul into each ball. Bokuto played with passion, with his emotions and whenever the time was right, with his logic too. For a while, volleyball seemed like the last thing you’d want to spend your life doing. But seeing the ace’s blushing grin to you when they’d scored the final match point... it might not be as bad as you thought it’d be.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyu #hq #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou imagine #bokuto koutarou scenario #sfw #bruh haikyuu writing #fukuroudani x reader

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wastelandcth · 3 years

Text

Better Love - cth

part three: the longing

summary: Calum and Maeve get to know one another, in more ways than one.

author’s notes: I’m nervous about this one. Enjoy!

warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of food, oh and smut.

masterlist || request || join my taglist!

part one || part two

I confessed the longing I was dreaming of Some better love, but there's no better love Beckons above me and there's no better love That ever has loved me, there's no better love

In her dreams, Maeve always saw a future that made her warm. She saw hills of green and trees that swayed with the wind. She'd always go there, sometimes it'd be a few weeks before she'd show back up in her dreamland, but it was always the same place, a house surrounded in green and blue. She'd felt someone's presence, never enough to see them or recognize who they were, but she knew she wasn't alone in her dreams. She felt safe there with the strange presence, felt the warmth of them and the love they had for her. When she was young, she had thought it was her parents, but as time went on and Maeve's dreams stayed the same, she knew it was someone she was yet to meet.

Even now, as she slept, she felt that same warmth enveloping her.

Maeve’s eyes snapped open as she heard a snore behind her. The light from outside had blinded her for a second and she’d let out a groan. Usually, in her dreams, the warmth would leave her as her brain woke her up and her eyes slowly opened. This time, however, the warmth was still there. She felt it in her stomach and all down her spine, the familiar presence of it making her think for a second she was still in her dreams and that she’d wake up any minute to feel it leave her. As the bedroom came into focus, the large window next to her letting in soft daylight, that warmth remained and it wasn’t until she felt an arm around her pulling her closer that she remembered the events of the night her trip changed forever.

“The bridge collapsed?” Calum asked confused and walked over to stand next to her, his bra ahh hitching as he looked out at the stone bridge, “Holy shit.”

“What’re we going to do?” Maeve asked shakily, her eyes staring out in awe, “That’s the only way back. W-we’re stranded here with no power and no way to contact anyone about what’s happened!”

“Maeve, deep breathes,” Calum said as he reached out and slowly placed his hands on the sides of her arms, “Hey, look at me, I promise, it’ll be okay.”

With a deep breath, Maeve relished in the warms of Calum’s touch, leaning into it as she tried to calm her racing mind. He was right, it would be okay, the power would eventually come on once the storm passed, and then they would be able to call someone for help. All they had to do was wait for the storm to pass and then they’d get help.

All Maeve had to do was survive a night with an incredibly handsome art history professor, a looming interview that could change her life, and a storm that seemed to have destruction on its mind. Calum's hands were still on her arms, squeezing them gently as he tried to ground her back into the moment at hand. If it had been any other situation, one in which Calum was more than a stranger and Maeve wasn't stuck in a cabin with him, she would have been flustered. But the view of the bridge outside of the window, looming in the distance as if mocking how her brain felt, kept her unannounced attraction towards the stranger attempting to calm her at bay.

“Okay, I…it’s going to be okay,” she breathed out after taking a couple more deep breathes, “I guess we just unofficially became roommates.”

The next two days had been spent in one another's company. Once the storm had settled and the drizzle had lulled the forest into a peaceful sleep, Calum and Maeve had spent most of the night huddled up in the living room, finding out more and more about one another. They talked about a lot that first night, both of them wanting to be absolutely positive that the other was not a serial killer with extreme patience. But there seemed to be something they were both hiding, a small snippet of the truth that both were too scared to share. It wasn't until the inevitable concept of having to sleep crept closer and closer that they both glanced back at the only bed around for miles.

"I'll take the couch," Calum nodded, "You were here first so it's only fair."

"But you'll be cold," Maeve mumbled, "The fireplace will only give you so much heat before it dies out in the middle of the night and you wake up frozen."

"Another good reason why you should take the bedroom then," Calum chuckled and shook his head, "I don't mind, really."

"We could just share." Maeve said, surprising herself with the forwardness of her voice, "Body heat and all, you know?"

"Are you sure?" Calum asked, his eyebrow raising as he watched the flush on Maeve's cheeks grow.

"Positive, now come on, I'm exhausted."

They'd each picked their side of the bed, opting to stay as far away from the middle of the mattress as they both could. The sound of a drizzle hitting the roof and windows around them made the quietness of the bedroom a little calmer, both of them too aware of the other in bed to really drift off. But eventually, the drizzle lulled them both, into a warm and quiet sleep. A sleep where Maeve felt the warmth from her dreams and Calum felt the ache of his hike.

The following morning, when both of them woke up in each other’s arms was…awkward to say the least. Calum had woken up first, his arm numb and his brain having trouble catching up to where he was and why he had another body on top of him. The early morning sunlight filtered in through the large window next to the bed, shining a soft light over the entire room. The morning air was still chilly, leaving an ache in Calum’s joints and instinctively making him pull Maeve closer to him. It wasn’t until he heard Maeve stir that he realized exactly what they’d done. As the storm passed, the rain leaving the ground soft and muddy, Maeve and Calum and drifted closer and closer. Acting as the full moon and ocean tide, they ended up in one another’s warmth, starring far apart and gravitating towards each other.

That morning, they’d both spent time apart, walking around the small property where the bridge had left them isolated from everyone else. Calum had spent most of that day outside, his journal tucked safely in the pocket of his rain jacket, walking through the woods and hoping that the next couple of days before their host, whatever her name was, could find a way for them to get back. The first few days were spent like that, both of them stealing glances at the other while trying to distract themselves from the view of the broken bridge, the view of their separation, and the fact that they were both stuck with one another. Mornings were usually spent in silence, both too afraid to move from one another’s arms, trying not to wake the other up. They were spent looking out the window, watching the trees sway and the colored leaves flicker off the branches and onto the river below. Maeve, who had become used to the warmth of Calum’s body next to hers every morning, had spent mornings pretending to be asleep in the hope that Calum wouldn’t pull away from her and leave her cold. Calum, who knew Maeve had woken up minutes before, spent his mornings hoping that she wouldn’t move out of his arms, his face finding comfort in the crook of her neck. Mornings were quiet and hesitant, soft touches that both of them thought about during the rest of the day, hoping to wake up in one another’s arms once again. The nights were a different story. As the sun lowered into the sky, leaving streaks of gold, pink, orange, and red; Calum and Maeve found themselves huddled together. Sometimes Maeve would read out loud, her book telling the history of the clans that used to call the Highlands their home, and sometimes Calum would put on one of the old records that had been left behind in the cabin. Those were Maeve’s favorite nights, Calum’s too, when the music echoed from the walls and the both of them laid under the shared fur blanket, watching the darkness of the sky from their favorite window. It was when the sun went down and the cold settled in that Maeve and Calum got to really know one another.

One night, when dinner had been quiet, both too lost in their own heads to really say much. Their conversation changed, from the usual small talk that had been shared during the day, to something more. The world was teasing them both, the candle-lit dinner they shared one of the first either of them had ever had a candle-lit dinner. Calum liked to think he was a romantic at heart, but he couldn't recall a time where he and his fiancé, well ex-fiancé, would've ever had a dinner like this. Maeve hadn't ever had a date with James like this, not that this was considered a date, but theirs had always ended up with cheap takeout and a studying session. This felt different, it felt calm and the quiet surrounding them never turned awkward or tense. It was comforting.

"So, what's your story?" Calum asked softly, "I mean, I know you said you have an interview with the university but...well, what're you running from?"

Maeve tensed at the question, her eyebrows furrowing as she studied the man in front of her and wondered if he truly could read her like that. Had she been that obvious about wanting to escape her crowded city life? Had everyone she'd encountered known she belonged in the countryside where she was born, never to be able to thrive in a bustling city? Or did Calum, who seemed very much like herself, run away to Scotland too.

"I...I guess I just needed to find myself and I thought that Scotland would be that place for me?" Maeve shrugged, her eyes looking down at the glass of whiskey in front of her, "My parents met in Edinburgh, they road tripped around the entire country together, and fell in love here."

She looked back up at Calum, who watched her intently, his eyes focused on her eyes, watching as Maeve tried to look everywhere but his. With a sigh, and another sip of the bitter whiskey that made her blood warm, Maeve continued on with the story. How her small town had been a bore to her but the second she had left she'd missed it like hell. That no matter how much fun she'd found in the big cities she'd traveled to, nothing made her feel like home. How this was supposed to be a way to get rid of the aching feeling in her chest and that maybe she would find something here in Scotland that the rest of the world hadn't shown her yet. She didn't miss the way Calum's shoulders tensed as she explained the situation with James and how she'd never truly felt love for him.

"And what about you? Why did the university professor run away?" Maeve asked quietly, her eyes finally meeting his across the table.

Maeve listened to Calum, listened as he spilled his heart out over a plate of potatoes and roasted veggies. She listened as his hands fidgeted with the loose string on his sweater and bit her lip as she realized just how alike they were. Soon enough, the rainstorm had slowed into a drizzle and the kitchen was cleaned up. It wasn't too long after that Maeve found herself plopping down on the couch next to Calum, pulling the warm fur blanket over both of their laps as the chill of the autumn night settled in around the house. The unwanted guest had forced both Maeve and Calum into warmer clothes, socks and hoodies peeking out over the edges of the blanket as they watched the flicker of the candlelight bounce on the walls.

"I tried, you know? To make myself love her and to make her love me," Calum sighed and shrugged as he took another sip of the whiskey, "I thought that if I proposed to her, our hearts would figure it out and everything would be fixed."

"And did it?" Maeve asked, her soft eyes finding him in the candlelight, "Did she fall in love with you?"

"Deep down, I knew it would never work." he sighed and frowned as he looked down at his fingers that had been playing with a loose thread on the blanket covering them both, "I'm surprised she hadn't left earlier."

"She's a fool," she mumbled, her knee nudging against Calum's causing both of them to lean into the warmth of it, "You're a great guy."

"You've only known me for three days, you can't possibly know that about me," Calum laughed and shook his head, his eyes gazing out the large window, watching the waves in the river splash against the bedrock.

"And from that, I already know that you're a great guy," she chuckled and shrugged, "You made me breakfast even after I made you get more wood late last night. Which by the way, is totally happening again."

"Yeah? You’re coming with me this time, okay?" Calum teased, knowing that there was no way she'd be stepping out after dark to walk to the shed where all the firewood had been stored.

"In your dreams, Hood."

That night, when the candles had been blown out and the fireplace in the bedroom crackled to keep them both warm, Calum had still been awake when Maeve had scooted back against him. Calum had been up for a while, his brain too awake to even think about sleeping, Maeve’s soft breaths keeping him grounded in the bed. He knew it was a mistake, to even consider that his heart raced a little faster when she was near him, but the past couple of days had taught him a lot. He’d never really believed in coincidences, but his mother had always told him that life had a funny way of showing him what he needed, even if it wasn’t what he’d expected. Maeve was like no one Calum had ever met before. She was so intelligent and well-spoken, she somehow always had something to say in response to Calum. She never seemed to get bored of all the reading or even of the random facts Calum would spew out whenever he remembered something. She was new and refreshing, like the air he’d breathe in every morning after he’d made it out of the cottage.

But Calum was being foolish again, he couldn’t feel anything for the stranger, that’s all she was really, a stranger who’d been booked in the same room as him and now he was stuck with her until someone noticed they’d missed their checkout date. He was stuck feeling his palms sweat whenever she talked with him in that soft voice, the one that gave him goosebumps he was thankful were hidden under his sweaters. He couldn’t have feelings for her because in a few days she’d be in Edinburgh having a life-changing interview and Calum would be on a flight back home, hoping that when his flight landed, he’d stopped regretting walking into the empty house he’d left weeks ago. He’d been so stuck in his brain, trying to stop his feelings for the stranger next to him, that he hadn’t noticed her breath hitting his neck. The soft snores leaving Maeve had made Calum’s thumb on her hip stop it’s up and down stroking, one he hadn’t even noticed he’d been doing, and made him look down at her.

In the darkness of the room, where the only source of light came from the embers of the fireplace gave him only so much to work with, Maeve looked ethereal. Calum’s chest stopped rising, his eyes wide as he watched the small twitches in her nose and eyes as Maeve dreamt. The curls she’d usually push away when she was asleep were falling down onto her eyes, Calum’s hand coming up to push them behind her ear. Maeve’s eyes fluttered open at the touch, leaving Calum frozen in place with his finger on the warmth of her cheek.

“Hey,” she whispered, her sleep-induced haze making her lean into the touch, “Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” Calum breathed out, his lungs finally receiving a new life as the oxygen once again rushed into them, “Go back to sleep, I’ve got you.”

Maeve, whose brain was slowly waking up, blushed at his words. Her eyes moved up to meet his in the darkness, the deep brown of his nearly replaced by his pupils which had dilated. In a moment of courage, where Maeve pushed away any of the warnings telling her to not move her head to the side, she cupped the hand that was on her cheek in hers and pressed a kiss onto the palm of it. Her eyes closed again as she felt the hitch in Calum’s breath, feeling him tense for just a second before he practically melted into her touch. They both laid there, staring at one another in the darkness they’d both used for lingering and greedy touches, their breathing matching as they leaned in closer and closer. The wind had picked up outside, whistling against the window panes, as if even nature outside knew the tension between the two bodies that were in the safety of the loneliness of the forest.

There was a beat of silence, a beat where Calum and Maeve took each other in one last time before their lips connected. In the dark, they found one another, pulling each other closer and closer until Calum could feel the soft noises leaving both him and Maeve against his chest. Her lips were soft, leaving Calum chasing after them for more after she pulled away to catch her breath. He hadn’t waited too long, the electric feeling of her against him back after less than a second. Outside, the window had continued to howl, the forest seemingly cheering for the two as the darkness outside shielded them from the world. The river still flowed beside the house, the water crashing against the large rocks like their lips had moments before. They moved in a flow, much like a river, clothes thrown off and kisses crashing onto unseen skin.

Calum’s hands were hesitant, almost as if he was afraid to touch Maeve, but the soft sigh that left her when his hand finally squeezed the thigh she’d rested over his hip was all he needed to keep going. His body pushed up against hers, his other arm coming up to push her down onto her back, the soft mattress pulling Maeve in like a hug. From where he was, kneeled at her side, Maeve’s breathless and flushed look made Calum want to wake up from such a cruel dream, his jaw going slack as Maeve’s knees dropped onto the bed and Calum slotted himself between her. Calum’s forehead rested against hers, their noses brushing up against one another in a silent plea for whatever it was they had started to be more, his breathing heavy as he felt her knees tighten around his waist and pull him closer. The friction between them had elicited soft groans from them, their lips once again finding each other in the dark as they found a rhythm, one so delicious Calum was sure he was seeing stars behind his closed eyelids.

“Please,” Maeve breathed out, her hands running up and down his chest until she grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it up his body, throwing it somewhere into the darkness, “Calum.”

Time slowed in those seconds where all they could focus on was the way their bodies moved together. Maeve was lost in Calum’s kisses, her hand sliding down between them and past the soft hair trailing down onto the boxers he’d been wearing. Calum’s mind was too far gone, his body tensing as he felt Maeve wrap her fingers around him, his hips jerking into the touch as his lips left a trail of kisses down her jaw and neck. Calum’s mind was running with all the things he would do to her, the fear of Maeve somehow knowing all that Calum was imagining overtaking his brain before he felt another wave of pleasure course through him as he felt the flick of Maeve’s wrist on him. Their bodies moved as one, moving through the darkness and racing for that crash that would leave them both seeing nothing but a blinding white behind their eyelids. That crash came eventually, their breathlessness hidden by the howling wind outside. Their bodies fell back onto the mattress as the stones from the very bridge that had forced them together had fallen days before. Through the pants and the mind-numbing pleasure, Maeve and Calum found their way back to one another, soft kisses shared in between whispers which wouldn’t have been distinguished between the sound of the rain falling outside. The droplets hitting the windows as Calum looked down at Maeve, who had been pressing soft kisses onto his chest, tracing over the ink splayed across it. She looked up at him, almost as if to ask what the ink said, the darkness hiding the design of it.

“In the morning,” Calum whispered, kissing her forehead as he felt the softness of her sink into his touch.

Both of them listened to the rain outside, wondering if the morning would bring more touches as the midnight had, or if they’d wake up in silence hoping that the other would speak up first. But Calum would explain the ink on his chest in the morning, would tell Maeve the story behind the words tattooed onto his body for the rest of his life. And Maeve would listen as she stroked the tan skin she’d run her fingernails down only hours before, leaving crescent shapes indented into his skin as a reminder that the pleasure and the ache in between her legs hadn’t been a dream. But that would come in the morning, for now, all they could do was doze off as the rain sang for them once more.

taglist: @hoodhoran @finelliine @moonlightcriess @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lowkeyflop @matchacal @hemmo1996-5sosvevo @myloverboyash @2fangirl4u @multistann

#calum hood x oc #calum hood x reader #calum hood x you #calum hood imagines #calum hood fics #calum hood blurbs #calum hood #5sos x reader #5sos x oc #5sos x you #5sos blurbs #5sos fics #5sos #5 seconds of summer #better love series #gemma writes #5sos smut #calum hood smut

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killian-spey · 3 years

Text

Death Would be Kinder [ch.1]

[Drusilla/Spike/Calendar!Reader]

Words: 2626

Fic Concept: Jenny Calendar’s sister spends some “quality time” with the Season 2 Vampire Squad. [Ch.1 takes place in BtVS S2 Ep14]

TW/CW: Kidnapping, Violence, Nightmares.

AN: Check out the [Prologue] first if you haven’t already! :D

Tags: @prose-for-hire , (Comment below or send an ask to be added!)

You had run through the sewers for hours before you pulled yourself out of a manhole halfway across town. Escaping from the factory had worn you out completely, and you made your way home, hoping that Angel and Buffy had done the same.

When you got home, Jenny was asleep on the couch. It looked as though she'd been waiting up all night for you. You tucked a blanket over her and took her empty tea mug to the kitchen before going upstairs, where you flopped into bed and immediately found sleep.

You opened your eyes in the dark and two stormy grey eyes were staring into yours. You sat up confused as your eyes adjusted to the dark. A moment passed, then a new pair blinked into existence; they were blue, cold and unmoving. Their faces grew recognizable and a pit of anxiety grew in your stomach. Spike was leaning against your window sill. Drusilla was laying on your bed, reaching for you with one hand. You stumbled backwards with a yelp, falling onto your floor. Yellow eyes flashed once in your peripheral and then everyone was gone, just as quickly as they'd all appeared.

As you stood up, you found yourself in the factory. It was brighter here, but cold and empty. You spun, looking for an exit. Flashes of images knocked you off balance like punches. A red dress, flowing ribbon, blonde hair, black hair, crooked smiles, pointed teeth. Bells rang in your head, you saw a wheelchair, then painted red nails, then a ridged face. Your head was spinning. You were spinning. Faster and faster until you felt nauseous.

It stopped suddenly. A single thought pierced your adrenaline-rushing head. Soon-

You opened your eyes with a gasp, staring at the ceiling of your bedroom. It was morning and your alarm was going off. You stayed there a few minutes, snoozing the alarm so you could let your heart catch up with reality -or rather slow down to reality- before you got ready for the day and hopped in the car with your sister. Seems Buffy wasn’t the only one having bad dreams about vampires that should've been dead. Lucky you...

As it turns out, Buffy and Angel didn’t check in after last night’s screw up at the factory; thankfully Buffy came into school a couple minutes later to confirm she was still alive. The same couldn’t be said for Angel though, so tensions were high among the Scoobies while researching the Judge.

You were asked to use your artistic skills to draw the Judge to the best of your memory while the others looked into tomes with written references. The world tended to pass you by when you were drawing, so you almost didn’t notice when your sister left the library. She had been summoned by your Uncle, but for what you didn’t know. Not long after, the lights went out.

You stalked out of the library, seeing Xander, Willow, and Angel in the lobby of the school just down the hall. Willow was making her way towards Angel when-

“Willow, get away from him.” Jenny came from the left, holding up a cross as she stepped towards Angel. Oh. Oh no. You pulled a stake from your belt and called out to Willow as calmly as you could muster.

“Willow, walk back towards me.”

“What are you two talking about? It’s just A-”

Angel lunged forward and grabbed Willow by the neck. Familiar yellow eyes peered out of the darkness of the hallway as Willow yelped, struggling against the choke hold.

“You’re not Angel anymore, are you?” Jenny walked closer to Angel.

“Wrong. I am Angel, at last.” He pulled Willow back away from Jenny, “I’ve got a message for Buffy.”

“Why don’t you give it to me yourself?”

The two of them exchanged words and fought, allowing Willow the opportunity to escape Angel’s clutches and join your huddled group on the outskirts of the fight. Buffy got shoved into the water fountain, dumbfounded as Angel walked out the door laughing. The fight was over as quickly as it started, and a blanket of stunned silence covered the whole group. After what felt like an eternity of numb, unmoving shock, you and Jenny gave each other a knowing look. You’d failed. Angel was gone.

You don’t remember how long you’d been sitting in the library, vaguely listening to the group tell Giles about the confrontation with Angelus. Jenny was trying to keep Giles from panicking, and you sat numbly with your guilt. You only looked up when Buffy fled the room, Giles calling after her. You wanted so badly to apologize, but if Buffy ever found out what you’d known, she might kill you herself. You excused yourself from the library, mumbling to Jenny that you’d be in the studio back home.

-----

The garage door creaked as you lifted it. Jenny had given you one of the car bays to use as an art studio while you lived in Sunnydale. Your studio was one of the only places you knew where you could truly be alone with yourself. Jenny had never judged you or your art. Ever since your parents died, she’d stepped up and been supportive of you. You brushed your hand along the top of your canvas stash, picking a large, almost square canvas and setting it on your easel.

Painting had been a way for you to cope with strong emotions for as long as you could remember, but with the events of today you felt lost. You sat on your stool in front of that blank white canvas for what must have been hours. You eventually decided that nothing could convey what you were feeling in the moment, so you decided to paint something the opposite.

You used cream-white, gold and rust to block out a background; it was light, idyllic, and serene. It would be a white-stone conservatory, full of hanging candles and lanterns with a mezzanine balcony covered in ivy. Over that you dropped bright, vibrant tones of yellows and reds and greens. You blocked them into the spaces you would put dancers in flowing gowns and painted blues where you would place their partners. It would be full of life. You stood back a moment, studying. The scene was missing something; joy and innocence, maybe. You place a few, short splotches of pinks and light yellows for younger girls. They were running in a small stampede, weaving through the forest of colorful silks on the dance floor- chasing after fairies or some magic that existed only in their imaginations. There it was. You had vague shapes and a vision, and you were intent on chasing it.

You painted all through the night, and well into the morning. Jenny had left for the school hours ago, but hadn’t said anything. The painting was finally done. You sat in your stool and wiped your hands on your jeans. It was done, you had worked for hours, you had cried for Angel, you had smiled for the imaginary children, and for a moment you were satisfied... Then you noticed it.

In the center of your painting was a lone dancer. She wore a red gown with dark lace over the bodice and had equally dark hair. Your painting was somewhat post-impressionist, preferring interesting shapes over pinpoint detail, but it was unmistakable. In a ballroom of strangers, you’d painted her. Drusilla. You didn’t know what to think about that.

You stared at Drusilla in the painting, stuck in an introspective daze until a creaking sound pulled you back to reality. Your uncle had opened the garage door and stepped into the studio bay with two cups of coffee. You pulled up a stool for him and he handed you one, sitting beside you in front of the painting.

“Janna called,” he began cautiously. “She is on her way home with your friend, Buffy. I don’t know how, but she knows.”

“She’s going to hate me for this,” You scanned the sweeping lines of a yellow skirt somewhere else on your painting, trying not to let the tears prickle at the corners of your eyes.

The door to the garage opened behind you both and you looked down into your mug, anxiously tapping your nail against the ceramic. You couldn’t bear to look Buffy in the eyes, your guilt returning in full force.

Your uncle lit a pipe and stood up as he spoke,

“She told me you would be coming. I suppose you want answers,”

“Not really.” The voice wasn’t Buffy’s.

You snapped your head towards the door to find Angelus leaning against the door frame, blocking your exit. You scrambled, picking up a fistful of wooden paint brushes off your work table in a desperate search for weapons. You spun back towards Angelus just in time to watch him snap your uncle’s neck. An arm smacked against your leg as he dropped onto the concrete floor- a sensation you would no doubt remember the rest of your life. You snapped a large paintbrush in half to give it a pointier edge, but Angelus grabbed your wrist before you could even make a move on him. This was the sickening moment you realized just exactly how tall Angelus was. Exactly how far above he loomed over you.

“Ah, ah.” He tutted at you with a smirk. “Wouldn’t want to go angering the guy who holds your life in his hands, now would you?” He twisted your wrist until you let go of the brush, then wrapped his other hand around your throat and pushed you onto the worktable.

“You know, it really is embarrassing that you’re so darn fragile!”

He was laughing, but he was right. In comparison you were a mouse fighting a lion, you had no chance against him. You clawed fruitlessly at his hand, but he just squeezed harder. Your vision was already fuzzing out, and it was getting difficult to even see Angelus’ face clearly as he taunted you.

“Oh, stop squirming, you’ll be unconscious in a minute, kid. Lucky for you, I need some bait. So you get to live for a while, isn’t that exciting?!” His voice was giving you something tangible to focus on, but it was no use. Another moment and you were unconscious.

-----

Your head pounded like a drum when you woke up. You opened your eyes, but it took a while for them to adjust to the dim light. You tried to rub your eyes, but your hands were tied down to the armrests of the chair you were sat in. Your eyes darted around for any sign of Angelus, but found none. Everything was empty. Silent. Against your better judgement, you called out into the empty factory.

“Hello?”

You waited. No one responded, but you felt you were being watched.

You didn’t know how much time had passed before you heard a small, soft melody coming from behind you. Humming. Your heartbeat kicked up a notch as you scanned the room.

“I can hear you going pitter-patter from here,” Drusilla had spoken from a place you couldn’t see. You heard each of her footsteps click closer and closer behind you until you could feel her standing just inches away. You let out a shaky breath and she shushed you quietly.

She ran her hands through your hair, dragging long red fingernails across your scalp. She began detangling your hair with her fingers, idly humming once again. You let your head tip back as she picked lightly at a particularly bad snag, dismantling it and continuing her exploration of your hair. By now you’d noticed you were crying, silently terrified and unnerved by the ministrations of the vampire behind you. She yanked a new snag in your hair and you couldn’t help the small yelp that escaped you.

“Is the doll hurting?” She pulled her hands away when she realized you weren’t going to answer her. She walked agonizingly slowly around your chair, stopping directly in front of you. “It’s rude to ignore people.” You stared at the floor, avoiding her gaze. You did notice, however horrified, that she was wearing a new, yet familiar, red dress with black lace.

You could feel her staring down at you, almost willing you to look at her. When you didn’t, she dropped to her knees to meet your eye line, resting her cheek on your knee. You studied her face as she ghosted her hand up and down your left thigh, occasionally picking at the smatterings of paint that were still all over your jeans.

“You’re an artist. I like artists,” She picked up her head and you chuckled nervously as she looked at you. In a morbid way, you were glad she liked you, whatever that meant. It might mean I live a little longer.

You looked up at the ceiling uncomfortably, then scanned the room for an escape, for something, anything you could do. She dragged her finger from your thigh up to your neck as she looked up at you. For a moment, you were scared she’d slice your throat, but she wrapped her hand around your jaw and pulled your face down gently to look at her.

“You’ll be my little pet Artist. We’ll have lots of fun together,” She stared into your eyes with a dangerous smile. She rubbed her thumb against your jawline -her hand still holding your face as she stood up- until she burst into a fit of giggles. She dropped your face and pulled her hands together, close to her chest, as she walked backwards a few paces.

As if she’d sensed him coming, Spike rolled into the room and stopped his chair just next to you. Drusilla gracefully perched herself on Spike’s lap and after a few minutes of flirting, Angelus came down the spiral staircase with the Judge, who voiced that he was ready to leave.

“About time.” Spike gave Drusilla a kiss and told her to have fun.

“Too bad you can’t come with, huh?” Angelus was taunting Spike and -despite your fear- you were studying the interactions for a better understanding of the relationships at play. Spike was staying behind under the pretense of watching you, but it was a thinly veiled jab at his current handicap. You watched silently as Angelus practically stole Drusilla off Spike’s lap before they left the factory. Spike stared at the doorway they'd left from for a while before he glanced back at you, staring at him. You dropped your eyes immediately, but it was too late.

“What are you lookin’ at?” He wheeled himself to the other side of the table.

“I won’t be in this chair forever. I’ll get back at him.”

“Of course you will.”

He squinted at you, probably just as surprised as you that’d you’d actually spoken back at him. He turned his chair and got up close to you again, murder glinting behind his eyes.

“Are you being funny? ‘Cause I could kill you in half a second, you know.”

“No, no jokes,” You shook your head at him, weakly lifting your hands within your restraints in surrender. The last thing you wanted was for him to prove just how tough he still is.

“Good, cause I would,” he pointed his finger at you as he continued on, “...kill you, I mean.”

“Right.” You squinted, processing.

“You’d do well to remember that.”

You pressed your lips together and nodded awkwardly. He stared at you about 7 seconds longer than he needed to before huffing and rolling off to another room. As soon as you were alone, you sighed in relief and stared up at the ceiling; only one thought in your mind.

Oh. My. God.

#spike #btvs #tv: btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #drusilla #drusilla x reader #drusilla x Spike #Spike x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #multichapter #chapter 1 #angel #angelus #ats #jenny calendar

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one-with-the-floor · 3 years

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The problem, when you got down to it, was that the concept of ‘up’ hadn’t been properly invented yet. Aziraphale was looking out, instead, out over the inky blackness of something as yet unnamed. ‘Sky,’ he had heard one cherub call it; ‘universe,’ whispered an angel who worked as a scribe in the records department. Once it became clear that nobody really knew what it was or what it’s purpose was to be, Aziraphale stopped worrying about it. He just liked the way the little dots of light out in the distance reflected on the tile of the hallway, if he left the door open and sat on the edge. He wasn’t afraid of falling. There was no such concept, no down to fall into without an ‘up’.

So Aziraphale came to the sky-ink-universe door whenever he was on a break from his swordsmanship lessons, and stared into the Away From Here, and, when he was sure there was no one else around, admired the way his loosened, shed feathers glowed as they floated out into the black.

“That’s where those have been coming from!”

Aziraphale started, and turned to see an angel with an armful of scrolls and long red hair drifting towards him. The angel grinned as he held out one of Aziraphale’s feathers. “I’ve been catching them, but nobody would admit to grooming while we’re working. I was starting to think someone was pulling a joke on me.”

Aziraphale blushed and took his feather back. “Not a joke, I’m afraid. Just me.”

“You don’t work out here, do you?” the angel asked.

“No. I’m a principality. I’m training to be a guard.”

“A guard of what?”

“I don’t know,” Aziraphale said. “I don’t think it’s been made yet.”

“Wow,” the angel sighed. “That’s so exciting.”

“Where do you work?” Aziraphale asked, wanting to be polite.

“Over there.” The angel pointed in a direction. Aziraphale had no idea how he could tell one place from another in this endless shell of black. “You can’t see it from here,” the angel explained when Aziraphale looked lost. “It’s way out…” He waved his arm at the universe. “You know. Far off. Takes a long time to get there.”

Aziraphale blinked. “Oh. Er.” Maybe that explained why he was confused. “I don’t think we’ve got ‘time’ in my department yet.”

“Really? We got it ages ago.”

“I’m sure they’re working on it. They didn’t implement shadows where I’m from until we tried on armor for the first time and none of us could see anything for all the light reflecting.”

“Ah, yeah, darkness was a huge update, loved that one. Especially out here, you know, this whole thing,” again, the whole-arm gesture, “doesn’t really work without the dark. It was just all light, with a little bit of lighter light where the stars are.”

“Stars?” Aziraphale looked out at the sphere of black cocooning them, and all the tiny pin pricks of light shining through. “Is that what these are called?”

“Yeah.” The angel’s smile went soft, and he turned so he could sit on the ledge next to Aziraphale. “Brilliant, aren’t they? I got to help build a few of them.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. There’s one, way out far away, that I designed, and She approved it and now it’s real.” The angel’s feet kicked excitedly. “It’s nearly done. We just have to finish heating up the second star.”

“That’s amazing,” Aziraphale said. “I don’t get to make things, mostly. I did invent a new sort of parry last practice, but that was mostly by accident.”

Accident or not, the angel’s eyes lit up. “Tell me,” he urged, and for lack of a reason not to, Aziraphale did.

He came back during his next break, but the angel with the red hair and the questions wasn’t there. But the stars had taken on a new layer of beauty, now that he knew what they were, what they were called, what they meant. That they were built. So much of the world was made for them, and Aziraphale treasured every wall, every tile that She had manifested for the angels to exist on, but the thought that they themselves could create things to love alongside her made him crave the experience himself.

A long while later—they had finally gotten around to adding the time update everywhere; Aziraphale wasn’t sure how he felt about the whole idea—Aziraphale met the angel at the door again. He was already sitting on the ledge, and Aziraphale nearly walked right into him when he opened the door.

“Oh! Oh, dear, I’m sorry.”

The angel just tilted his head to look at him. “Hello.”

“Hello.” Aziraphale maneuvered around him to sit. “I hoped I might see you again. Have you finished your stars?”

“Yep.” The angel stretched, popping his back, and tucked his feet under himself. “She’s got us doing a new thing now. All hands on deck for one specific star. ‘S not even a big one.”

“Really? I’d heard a few departments were very busy, but I hadn’t thought it would include yours.”

“Is yours busy?”

“No. We finished training a little while ago, now we’re all assigned to troupes of angels to lead.”

“Lead to what?”

“I don’t know. But they’ve told us to be ready. Whatever it is, it must be coming soon.”

“I hope it comes before we light this new important star up. It’s gotten so boring.”

Aziraphale gasped. “You can’t say that!”

“It’s true!” The angel laughed, and the little flare of panic in Aziraphale’s chest faded out. “I’m not the only one, either. There’s a bunch of other angels bored of their stations, too.”

“I’m not bored of mine,” Aziraphale insisted.

The angel smiled at him. “No. I’m glad you’re not.”

Again, there was a stretch of time before Aziraphale saw the angel next. Again, he went back to the door every chance he got to look out at the stars.

This particular time, the last time, he went with a sword at his hip.

Construction on all projects had stopped when certain angels started to disappear. They slipped through the tiles of the floor, some said, while others swore they’d seen them crumble to soot, burned into dust. None of them had come back. The principalities had been sent out to ensure they didn’t try to.

Aziraphale brought his group to the door and sent them out in all directions, out to find any angels still working out there and bring them back to heaven where they would be safe. Aziraphale stood on the ledge and tried with everything he had to remember which way the angel had pointed when he told him about his stars.

He blinked. He tried to figure it out again, to orient himself via the door and where the angel had been standing, but the sphere of the universe shifted whenever he moved. It was different. It was no longer all out. Aziraphale tilted his head back, and saw the stars above him. They had been there before, but they had not been there, not there in relation to him.

He looked down, dizzy with the change, and caught himself on the door jamb before he could tip over. There were stars there, too, in the brand new below him.

And there was a flash of red. A streak of white, pure as an angel’s robe, going deeper, falling down. It faded to black before Aziraphale could comprehend it.

He stretched out his wings, stepped cautiously off the ledge. He did not fall. He did not float, either, not the way he had before. It was different. All very different.

Aziraphale sat heavily down on the ledge, and looked up at the stars.

#good omens #good omens fic #aziraphale #crowley #before the fall #write it wednesday #my fic

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tl-notes · 3 years

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Kobayashi’s Maid Dragon S2 Episode 10 Notes

I’m extremely not an expert in birds, but I tried to look these up to see if they were a species native to New York (since they’re similar to the sparrows we usually see around Kobayashi’s place). Apparently there are few similar-looking species in New York? My totally uninformed guess is that they may be house sparrows.

The sun sets in Japan relatively early (probably around 6:30pm when this episode takes place), which would make it entirely plausible that if she just flew east (with a slight northward angle) she’d find herself over New York in the early morning while most of the rest of the country is still dark.

These bumpy grey pads at the pedestrian part of the intersection here are known as (among other things) tactile paving; they’re to assist people who can’t fully rely on eyesight to get around.

Interestingly (imo), they were actually invented in Japan in the 60s (by a Miyake Seiichi), where today they’re extremely ubiquitous. They even show up later this episode!

They’re often referred to in Japan as 点字ブロック, tenji (Braille) blocks, and they tend to come in two types: the “dot” design, which indicates a place to stop (or an angle change, or more generally “caution”), and the “line” design which indicates you can safely keep going. They’re generally colored yellow in Japan, ideally making them stand out more to help people with impaired vision find them, and are mandated by law in most places public transport can be found (among others).

Not really a translation note, but “deer cola” felt especially funny in the context of all the horse medicine stuff.

I guess “[animal] [drink]” is a common branding device in-universe, given the crab beer Kobayashi’s always drinking.

Also not really a translation note, but the difference between how “hard” Kanna and Chloe are running to be at the same speed was a nice animation touch.

遊んだ遊んだ！ asonda asonda!

One feature of the Japanese language is a very heavy use of repetition. This includes “reduplication,” a linguistic term for creating words by repeating a root (e.g. a “boo-boo” in English or the dara-dara example below in Japanese), but also just like… saying the same word multiple times, as Chloe does here.

Typically this is done for emphasis or to help increase clarity: if you’ve worked in a Japanese office, you’ve likely heard someone in a phone conversation say desu desu in response to someone asking for confirmation.

This acceptance of repetition sort of extends beyond the obvious uses like this as well: for example, personal pronouns are much less common; instead (if the subject isn’t dropped) you’ll often just use the person’s name again. You’ll notice similar trends with other types of words as well.

Not to mention the ubiquity of things like otsukare.

This often ends up being a challenge for translators, because reusing words in English (when it’s not for an obvious reason) tends to stick out rather unflatteringly, even if they aren’t that close together.

(Like when I overuse “hence” in these notes.)

This “Christ” in the Japanese was “ったく” (short for 全く mattaku, but just used as a semi-generic exclamation). I mostly bring this up because it’s a good example of a word that doesn’t work out of its cultural context; e.g. it wouldn’t make any sense for a fantasy character to say “Christ,” but since this is an American speaker it works just fine (and helps distinguish that fact, even).

I think I’ve mentioned this before, but English uses a lot of “explicit reference” words like this, that can break immersion if put in the mouths of characters who wouldn’t have exposure to said reference—which can be annoyingly limiting when trying to write dialogue sometimes.

As a bit of a culture shock for a lot of Americans I’ve met, most Japanese homes tend to have wall mounted air conditioning units, like this one, that are only for heating/cooling the one room they’re in. (Many also have a “Dry” setting that makes them act kind of like a dehumidifier as well.) It’s common to not have them in every room, like bedrooms, however.

This is in contrast to the central air conditioning system used by a majority of homes in the US (though type/use of AC in the US varies a lot by region; less common in the north for example)—and places like the UK where apparently residential AC units of any kind are quite rare.

You may have noticed that the doors between rooms always seem closed in Kobayashi’s apartment. That’s not just to make the backgrounds simpler, it’s also a good habit to keep if you’re going to be running the AC!

“Kobayashi, are you お休み today?”

“Yeah, お休み.”

お休み o-yasumi, is a noun form of the 休む yasumu, to rest. The word has a variety of applications, as we see here. A day off work/school, i.e. a rest day? お休み. Want to say “good night” to someone before bed? Also お休み.

In this case, it’s not even necessarily clear it’s being said as a pun; as mentioned earlier, repetition is a common feature of the language, so despite the yawn there wouldn’t really be any reason for Kanna to think Kobayashi was about to go to nap or anything.

“Laze about” here is だらだら dara-dara, another phenomime (擬態語 gitaigo in Japanese)—one of those words that mimics the “sound” of an idea/concept/state, which don’t actually make a sound per se.

These phrases aren’t necessarily childish or anything (overuse of them can be, but you can find them even in news articles and political speeches for example). They are, however, used frequently by children, and by adults talking to children, as they’re very “easy” words: they’re expressive, they capture useful daily-life concepts, and they usually roll off the tongue. You’ll notice, for example, that Kanna uses them a lot.

Kanna has a very interesting way of talking actually, which I’ll touch on a bit more later.

Kobayashi’s “bean jam” here is あんみつ anmitsu, a traditional Japanese dessert (technically a spinoff of mitsumame). It typically is a mix of red beans (and/or red peas), agar (an algae-based gelatin equivalent), some fruit, some variety of rice flour product (shiratama in this case, similar to mochi), and a syrup (often black sugar based).

You can find it year-round, but it has a strong summer association and is even used as a summer season word. (It’s typically chilled and you can often get it with ice cream as an ingredient.)

It’s also sometimes paired with a green-tea flavored something as well (e.g. ice cream, agar, or syrup). The trinity of green tea, red beans (aka azuki), and shiratama makes what I like to think of as the “Japanese S’mores Flavor (for Adults)”. No I will not elaborate on this.

I will though point out the shaved ice flavor Kobayashi ordered later in the episode:

え？今スイカ様子あった？

A word of note here for language learners is 様子 yousu, which has a lot of definitions, but in cases like this where it’s attached to a noun or phrase means roughly “the appearance of __” or “an indication of ___” etc. In actual use, it typically means something that makes you think of whatever ___ is—or the lack of something that would make you think ___.

For example here, it’s like “Watermelon? Where’d that come from?” (since the TV was talking about a different dessert-y food entirely).

Or an unrelated example: “I think that guy is hiding something” → “Really? I haven’t seen any yousu of that.” In other words, it can be a lot like “sign,” as in “I’ve seen no sign of ___.”

These color-bordered envelopes (originally colored based on the flag of the country of origin) used to be the standard for air mail, domestic or international, though they haven’t been required for several decades.

That said, they’re still popular for that “ooh, international mail!” feel (at least in Japan) and you can buy them at most places that sell stuff like envelopes. As here, they’re often used in media to immediately convey that a letter came from outside Japan.

Kanna (and Kobayashi) says エアメール, lit. “air mail” in English, which is used colloquially for international mail specifically, rather than “mail sent by plane.”

They’re having what’s called 冷やしそうめん hiyashi soumen, chilled/cold soumen for lunch here. (Soumen being a thin wheat noodle; udon but thinner.) As Kanna says, it’s very easy to make!

Basically you just boil it, wash it in cold water, add ice, get some sort of sauce to dip it in, and you’re done! It’s a popular quick meal in summer, and much easier than the more involved nagashi soumen setups you may have seen elsewhere, where they slide the noodles down a chute for you to try to grab and eat. (It’s basically the same meal aside from that though.)

(You can of course add more to it, but as we see here, you don’t really have to.)

The type of tea here, for the curious, is 麦茶 mugicha, barley tea. Mugi is the general name for cereals/grains including wheat (komugi), barley (oomugi), rye (kuromugi or rye mugi), and oats (enbaku or oat mugi). It’s incredibly common in Japan (and much of East Asia), where it's the household summer drink.

It has no caffeine like many other teas, and has a bunch of various nutritional benefits, so it’s considered a good way to stay hydrated as you’re sweating buckets in the muggy Japanese summer weather.

帽子した？ boushi shita? した！ shita!

I thought this was a cute way of phrasing this question/answer, and a good example of the “parent and their young child” way these two talk.

The suru (past tense shita) verb used here is the ultimate in “generic verb,” and it basically doesn’t get any simpler grammar-wise to phrase something as “noun+suru” like Kobayashi does here (even the particles are dropped).

Kanna, for her part, doesn’t respond with a “yes” or etc, but instead just repeats back the verb itself in confirmation.

Just to note another one of those words like dara-dara: bura-bura, used for things like wandering around, doing something (or nothing) casually/aimlessly, or (with one bura) for something dangling/swinging in a more literal sense, like a spider, slack yo-yo, or wind chime.

These booklets are a common homework assignment for practicing kanji; you can see along the left side there it shows the stroke order, with the first block giving an example to trace over & showing where to start each stroke.

Each character is made up of radicals (e.g. “hot” above: 日 and 耂), which each have a standard way to write them. There’s 214 such radicals (though many are pretty niche; only about ~50 of them are needed to make most characters), and once you get a hang of them it makes learning new characters much easier (not too different from learning word spellings in English imo).

Kanna is repeating out loud the reading for the “hot” character as she writes it.

In addition to the above workbooks (which usually involve both kanji and math problems at Kanna’s grade), elementary school summer homework in Japan typically involves doing an illustrated diary (not a daily one necessarily) and some sort of research project about a subject of your choice. (Think kind of like a small science fair project).

The “research” project part is pretty expansive, and you can typically even do something more arts & craftsy for it.

Manhole covers in a lot of Japanese municipalities feature art representative of the area. For example, the city of Chofu, where the author of GeGeGe no Kitaro lived most of his life, has several with art of that series.

(Photo from https://www.gotokyo.org/jp/spot/1734/index.html)

I mentioned earlier that Kanna has an interesting way of speaking. Probably a better way to put it is that she has a pretty convincingly childish way of speaking (despite the monotone). That is, she uses simple grammar and “easy” words most of the time, but then throws out random big words and fancy idioms from time to time that make you go “...where did you learn that?”

In this case, the phrase she uses is 巷で人気 chimata de ninki. Chimata originally means like a fork (in the road), and since those are often places with lots of people passing through, it expanded to mean “the undefined place where people talk about ~stuff~.” So it’s used for “many people are saying~” or “word on the street is~” types of situations (or “talk of the town,” as here).

It’s kind of an “adult” word though; for example the character for it isn’t included in the jouyou kanji (the 2000+ that are taught in elementary through high school). Hence Kobayashi’s reaction here.

The word she uses for “protected” here is 死守 shishu. The word is the combination of the characters for “death” and “protect,” ~meaning to protect something even at risk to one’s life (to the death, as it were).

It's a word that you learn in third grade in the Japanese education system—the same grade Kanna is in!

Both of these types of signs are common sights in residential areas like this: depending on where you live, it can feel like there’s always some sort of construction project going on, and Japan’s many family/individually-owned businesses like this tend to be closed on various extra days during the summer (and certain other times) to allow for time off.

In this case, them being closed August 12th~16th implies they’re taking off for Obon (and probably leaving town to visit family).

The word Kobayashi uses here is 風物詩 fuubutsu-shi. Fuubutsu refers to something that makes up part of the “scenery” of a place or season, in a pretty broad sense. This shi typically means “poem.”

So fuubutsu-shi is originally a type of poem celebrating a season or a scene of natural beauty, that sort of thing. From that, it’s also now (more popularly) used to describe things that are representative of a season; the kind of stuff you say “it’s not winter until…” about, or “you know it’s summer when…” (It can also be used for places + seasons, like the ice sculptures of Hokkaido winters, or even summer Comiket in Tokyo.)

They’re very similar to the season words I’ve mentioned previously, though they’re far less strict about what counts as one. Here, Kobayashi’s could be referring to the whole package experience of “having to take cover and wait out a sudden heavy rain, despite it being mostly clear skies a few minutes ago,” which you could call fuubutsu-shi (summed up probably as like 夏の雨宿り etc.)

In contrast the relevant season word here would probably be yuudachi (or niwaka-ame), a word referring to the short, sudden bouts of rain that tend to fall (from cumulonimbus clouds, the makings of which are noticeable in the backgrounds before this) on summer evenings.

Feels like in season one she woulda eaten it. Three cheers for character growth!

The parentheticals there are just the “English” in hiragana/katakana.

Kobayashi’s comment (nihongo de ok, roughly “you can just use Japanese”) is an internet-born term people originally would use to reply to someone who said something that didn’t make any sense, had terrible grammar, or was so full of katakana loanwords it was hard to read etc.

Kanna says this line in English, and while I have no proof at all, my guess is that the specific choice of “wicked” was taken from the translation of “maji yabakune?” used in season one.

#maidragon #Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid #kobayashi-san chi no maid dragon #translation notes #anime

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nozomijoestar · 3 years

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Cannot get this out my head so just remember what I said about these two becoming more like each other and turn that into an entire piece, if you think abt it they're the same character interpreted two ways as is (tws for one sentence of body horror)

The philosophy of the Trikaya came to mind so I tried to embody it in sections and at times blurring together; my paragraph length is deliberately formatted to show the differences in character, have fun trying to decipher what the paragraph lengths mean for each character mindset

I couldn't decide 100% on what Susumu Hirasawa song fits them best so for now (lyric index) I'm considering Moonlight/Shadow of the Moon, The Master's Mountain, A Strange Night of Omnificence, and Venus

Individually Reina's Hirasawa character song is Day Scanner, Kumiko's is Snow Blind

For non Hirasawa music there’s You by Kazami off the Samurai Champloo ost / Eternal by SCANDAL (lyrics)

Also Yūko is listening to Tupac's Life Goes On & Me Against The World

There was something different. Not a bad thing surely, but different all the same. Was it Kumiko standing straighter than usual? No perhaps it was the way her jaw set while weighing decisions. Maybe it had to do with ease of her touch, or the resolve that could flash like lightening through slow motion at random in her gaze.

Whatever it was and why didn’t change its singularity against all else. It was a difference. The concept sent a chill rippling through her; she imagined a figure being peeled back then rearranged before being resewn. A terrible nausea took her then and her playing faltered. Her fingers may as well have become lead on the trumpet valves. She stopped and lowered her trumpet ever so carefully. Change. Would Kumiko one day forget her sound?

Why had Reina stared at her like that after practice? Was there something in her teeth today? No she couldn't be silly. Reina would never see through her over anything trivial. If you asked Kumiko, that intensity easily took its place as the scariest feeling anyone worth more than five minutes of effort had shown her. But she wasn't saying Reina, or anybody, came off as some pet project! It was just...she couldn't give everybody equal time. There were only so many pieces of herself to split for everyone. There were only so many Kumikos before she burst at the seams. At least, these days there were. She preferred that; she knew what the alternative made her.

If you asked her to rank them though, Reina had a slice so huge it was unfair. Kumiko was sure she knew it too. So why had her eyes grasped her heart? She felt a repeat of the feeling now as it struck her even in memory. She was naked before that stare- like her whole being had unfurled the moment Reina's presence approached. Like she saw herself outside her own body. Like Kumiko could die fulfilled.

Her fingers slid over the cool brass of her euphonium. The way the sensation prickled her skin made the air sharper, let it flow through her touching everything before she exhaled. It didn't come frantic but steady and coaxed.

She brought the mouthpiece to her lips and played. Her eyes closed amid the cicada calls in this familiar nook under the shadow of Kitauji's building. Her feet planted easy on this ground that'd received her sweat and blood without complaint season after season. She played.

She played a note for everything, for every breath gave rise to a memory. High notes lifted joyful moments like bubbles meeting the sky. Low notes spiraled their way up beside them in hesitation, but rising nevertheless. Soon the divide blurred and she no longer knew where the two separated.

Together they soared from her; the music a tapestry woven in on itself over and over. The feeing was older than her, older than anyone she knew living. Notes wandered, whole passages surged endless. The piece that wasn't a piece vibrated her blood. The sound rattled her bones. She played.

Her fingers burned exhaustion asking so much of the euphonium. She didn't dare stop. A little more and it'd take a true shape and-

From everywhere a calm that stood side by side with anticipation washed over her. There came the sound of footsteps. Reina turned the corner eyes widened by a hair and lips barely open. Her cheeks had gone flush coloring her like a human sized red crayon. Seeing her in shock drove Kumiko's mind frantic and buzzing until all she blurted out after scooting backward was-

"Do you have a fever?"

"........I could ask you the same thing. Here."

The water was cold and the bottle sweating condensation. Drinking it melted her adrenaline into lava. Her body aches as if scrubbed raw beneath the heat under her skin. The world spun just for an instant before Reina pressed a second water bottle against her neck.

Kumiko yelped, jumping out her chair and scrambling to keep her euphonium from crashing to the floor. Her shoe trips but in an instant Reina is behind her holding her upright. Water from the bottle Kumiko clutched splashed across their skirts and sleeves. When she registered the cold dripping down her knees the picture of what she'd done snapped into place. Before she could control it her voice stuttered out.

"T-T-thanks. Sorry for the mess."

"It's fine. Come and sit."

She let herself be guided by Reina's hand. When they sat side by side the world became right again. Kumiko still gasped and wheezed as she let Reina's fingers tidy her hair. Over time the motions had graduated from bumbling to meticulous; she couldn't clearly remember a time Reina hadn't been doing this anymore.

"What were you playing? I've never heard it."

The tone to her words made Kumiko's stomach sink a little. It wavered between curiosity and scolding; yet at the same time found itself half smothered by her quiet voice. Had she been at it that long? Her body certainly said more than either could.

"Nothing. Was just free-styling and stuff...practice."

"Practice doesn't almost give you heat stroke."

"Maybe not for you, but if I'm special too now then I have to catch up. If I don't there's no point."

Reina's laugh burst from her clear and free. Kumiko's eyes widened. She knew exactly what was coming. The way Reina's black hair draped down her shoulders, the way this angle teased at her nape, the crinkle of her eyes and wiggling eyebrows as her head was thrown back; everything was Reina, and it emptied her mind. She remained staring with her mouth slack like an idiot when she heard it. Now Reina's voice became love.

"You're awful." 'Don't you know we're already alike?'

Reina had finally deciphered Kumiko's new attitude three days ago. Perhaps. Almost. Maybe. Her hunch was solid. Now she needed proof. She wanted proof so bad her blood boiled. Voices leaked through the band room doors. Picking out Kumiko's laugh was child's play. It had a warm quality she couldn't describe even as it calmed her heart.

She entered and wrestled the surge of emotions she couldn't pick apart coursing through her. Her expression remained flat. Calm. Centered. Reina Kousaka did not roar at the world before an audience.

For whatever reason Kumiko had yet to notice her in their crowd of bandmates. She slowed her steps, kneeled near a wall pretending to search her bag. Kumiko sat with Midori and Hazuki today. Their conversation filled her ears, stoked her irrational fear. That fear which hung over her heavier than a headman's axe. That fear who's tendrils constricted her heart at its leisure.

'You wouldn't abandon me without a word would you?'

Childish, Reina Kousaka!

"That part is so tough. My mom's been putting dinner aside when I come home late."

"You always practice real hard Hazuki. It'll be worth it. That's what Nationals are all about! Don't you think so Kumiko?"

"Lately it sounds like my breath control's gotten stronger. When I play the sound is talking...or something like that. I wanna give it all I've got. So I'm glad we're going for it."

"Who're you now? Reina?"

They giggled even as they complimented her after. It didn't matter, her mind raced. What emotions had coursed now rose to a flood. She felt her heartbeat through her tongue. Pride? Kumiko felt...pride in playing...because of her? At the very least with her as a reason?

"Kousaka what're you doing?"

Yūko loomed over her causing Reina to smack into her pink headphone wire when she turned. She flinched and rubbed her nose. She looked up at her; her mind blanked.

"Checking my things."

"You must have a museum in there to be checking your bag for three minutes straight. You look super weird, what's going on?"

No quips or barbs loaded in response; nor could anything dampen the joy already swirling in her head. Besides, any qualms with Yūko were long outgrown. Why dwell on what was settled? Her body still tingled. Kumiko was proud because of her.

Yūko kept staring in anticipation as the song blaring through her headphones faded into another. Reina noticed that little twist of the mouth she did whenever she got impatient. Reina's lips moved to answer her but Yūko cut her off.

"Fine. You don't have to tell me. It better not divide the band though."

"...It's between me and Kumiko. No one else."

"Oh. In that case uh...if you want to talk to someone..."

Watching Yūko look away and scratch her chin awkwardly made her swallow a laugh. Instead she smiled and nodded. Maybe she should blame her mood but a calmness settled her back into reason. Like a bridge connecting, a hand outstretched, she grasped Yūko's kindness. It was good to be alone, not lonely.

"I will. Thanks."

Nights on Mount Daikichi were more natural for them than breathing. Cloaked in the silver and blue of moonlight they glowed at first glance. Countless lights below lit the city like a map of stars. Like gazing up at the sky on Tanabata to find Orihime and Hikoboshi. The cicadas buzzing filled in their silence that wasn't silence. They held their breath even as they breathed.

"When you think about improving, what does that really mean?"

Reina inched her pinky atop Kumiko's. Kumiko did the same. Her head went back as she watched the sky.

"Hmmm...probably a road. There's a place far away just enough for me to see. I don't know everything it has; I know because of that, chasing it makes me better. I used to think it had to stay straight once I started. Kinda stupid, 'cuz I take turns on it all the time. You?"

Reina paused a moment, face contemplative.

"There are stars. Most despite sitting in the sky are far from the moon. Most burn out. Some fall. Fewer get their chance beside the moon. Their light shines the longest. Their light inspires people."

"Pft hehe, there you go saying stuff like a book character again. That's just like you. Is there any room for the band up there?"

"...Maybe..."

"Is there any room for me?"

Without warning Reina leaned closer; her expression went stern. Her voice faltered though it tried being firm. It was the softest tone Kumiko had heard in her life.

"Don't ask stupid questions."

"Ok. I won't."

Their foreheads touched and the cool breeze turned warm on their skin.

"What do you think of the others then...past and present?"

Kumiko shut her eyes. Aoi. Haruka. Kaori. Natsuki. Shūichi. Nozomi. Mizore. Midori. Hazuki. Yūko...Asuka.

The faces of all who's paths intersected and footsteps left prints as guides, tethers connecting her to the universe, appeared in her mind. Each had drawn on a blank sheet of her soul. They were nowhere near her yet she felt them echo. They were her as she was them.

"Unrivaled under Heaven."

"Now who's talking like a novel character?"

"Cut it out." Kumiko replied through a chuckle.

Their eyes met. Reina smirked but only for a pause. She inched forward, asking a question. Kumiko shut her eyes again.

The kiss was unlike anything before and possibly after. An explosion of sensations though they didn't move a muscle. There was no time to remember it yet each second couldn't be forgotten. Feelings of melting, soaring, absolving, each melded and surpassed bliss. The result transcended any name they could give it. A release.

They pulled away. Both panted for air then examined each other as if for the first time. They no longer looked; they saw. They no longer knew, they understood.

Many questions were on the verge of pouring; instead Kumiko cupped Reina's cheeks and smiled. Her thumbs brushed off the forming tears. She didn't say a word when Reina fell into her arms. She simply rested a hand on her head and held her trembling body.

The moon's brightness peaked. If you asked her, it'd moved a little closer.

#my writing #hibike! euphonium #kumirei

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youngsoli · 4 years

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Caught Up \\ pt.1

Chwe Hansol Vernon

Pairing: Vernon x Reader (f/m/X)

Genre: mild smut, teasing, dry humping, sub/dom

Warning: this is meant for 18+ readers, you will probably read it regardless but this is a smut...you were warned. This is also the first smut I’ve ever written, so bear with me if it’s basic or just bad (eesh)

Words: 1760 (I know it’s short...)

Concept: You have an early morning meeting and wake up Vernon while getting ready. He seems eager to continue what went on the night before but you refuse him, making him plead before you have to leave.

Part1 Part2

Your alarm goes off with the quiet sounds of bells. You quickly roll over to turn it off to avoid waking up Vernon, lying next to you in a deep sleep. You sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and slide out of bed to the bathroom. The inside of your thighs slightly aches, flashing back to the happenings of what seemed like only hours ago. You turned on the shower letting it run until it gets hot enough, steam puffing up over the curtain. Making it short, you hop in and out and ready yourself for work, slipping into a newly bought blouse and dress pants. You look over to a sprawled out Vernon still sound asleep. Still making sure to be silent you slip into the kitchen to make your morning coffee. As you pour the hot water over the coffee grounds you hear a door creak and a soft grunt. Peaking your head past the refrigerator, you see Vernon in the bedroom doorway stretching with just pyjama bottoms on.

“Did I wake you?” you say in a concerned voice

“no no, I woke up on my own” his voice still raspy and groggy

You knew that was a lie, he’s never woken up before 9 am, it was 6:30.

He shuffles over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you stir the cream into your coffee.

“Why are you leaving me so early?” He whines in a soft voice.

You roll your eyes as you told him at least three times the night before.

“Remember Vernon? I have a meeting” a slight annoyance in your voice.

“aish how do you expect me to remember when you were so distracting last night”

he says as a grin spreads across his face.

Your cheeks turn pink as you remember the previous night. The memory of his arms running along the sides of your body leaves goosebumps on your arms.

“did you forget what happened last night?” He questions you while squeezing your hips, still behind you.

You take the spoon out of your coffee and turn yourself around so you’re face to face. You immediately feel the bulge coming from his loose-fitting pyjama pants. You don’t know how you didn’t feel it before, considering how he came up behind you, immediately pressing himself against you.

Trying to ignore it, you become slightly defensive in your response,

“Of course I didn’t forget! Not that you would let me”

He lets out a scoff and his eyes become dark as he makes harsh eye contact with you, he leans in to rest his soft lips against yours.

You let him push them against yours, as you breathe in slowly; chest rising. His fingers rise to brush your cheek and caress your face.

You blush and lean backwards, pulling away from the strangely intense kiss.

His brows furrow out of disappointment and some confusion.

“why’d you pull away Y/N? “ he groaned

“Babe I have a meeting soon, I can’t get into it” you look at him with slight guilt burning in the back of your mind.

You could feel your cheeks burning as you wanted him so badly, but knew now wasn’t a good time.

“ awww come on, it doesn’t have to take long, please?”

He whines as he presses his whole body into you, pulling you in with his hands pressed into your lower back. Your mind now racing about what you could do to satisfy him even a little.

“No” You say harshly, a stern look on your face, whipping back around to grab the lid for your coffee mug.

You gasp slightly as you’re abruptly turned back around, a hand quickly coming up to your face and grabbing your chin.

“Being stubborn are we Y/N?” Vernon says with seriousness but there’s a slight smirk in the corner of his mouth.

Impatience is slowly building in your chest, you feel slightly annoyed that he won’t let you be.

“What do you want ‘sol, hmm?”

As you say this you glide your hand down to cup his bulge, which has now grown since you noticed it the first time;

Vernon’s face turning pink and his eyes turn soft in expression.

“I- but you-“ he stuttered, not sure what to say at this moment.

He was normally the dominant one in bed, but you felt a rush being in control; you ought to do this more often.

You brought your lips to his and pulled him in with a passionate kiss, his tongue slowly parting your lips and making its way into your mouth. He whispers your name as you continued to rub his length overtop his pants, slowly walking him backwards until he hit the island in the middle of the kitchen. You bring your hand back up to lay it on his shoulder. He whimpers slightly. Hearing him vocalize his pleasure brings knots into the bottom of your stomach. You slowly pull away from his lips and walk back to your coffee mug. He stands there in shock, the tease being unexpected. He lets out a deep sigh, walking back towards you. You feel his eyes bore into the back of your head, your stomach erupts in butterfly’s unsure what was going to happen. A hand shoot’s up under your shirt, softly caressing your stomach and moving over your chest. Another hand sliding slowly down your thigh, gripping the inside. You let out a sharp but quiet gasp, you can feel the heat of his breath up against your neck. “Y/N.....You know you shouldn’t tease me like that” a sternness in his voice. It takes you a minute to focus and reply to him, a giggle comes out of you.

“Bold of you to tell me what I can’t do”

You can feel the frustration your stubborn retaliation causes, his body tensing up.

Not wanting the power hold you have on him to end, you turn back around to face him and grab the hair on the back of his head. You make eye contact with him and his pupils blow up with excitement, still a glint of irritation in them. Who knew you refusing him would get to him like this.

His hands slide down your hips and grip just below your ass, arms flexing as he lifts you onto the edge of the counter.

He pushes his lips onto yours, forceful at first but slowing down to a gentle, lustful kiss. His breathing becomes heavy, his chin resting on your shoulder, he nips at your ear. His hips begin pushing in between your legs, slowly grinding his covered erection over your heat. You both let a heavy breath out, hands tangled in each other’s hair. You regret letting the increasingly intense moment get to you, almost forgetting you wanted to make him beg.

“What do you think you’re doing?” pulling your hips away and further onto the counter. A rush of excitement flushes over you.

“don’t- don’t do this babe” Vernon's voice weak and choked with despair, his lips moving down your neck ever so softly.

You almost feel guilty making him suffer, but nonetheless, you don’t move your hips back towards him.

Hand still grasping his hair, your other hands drifts down to his length, dragging your finger ever so lightly up and down.

“Shit-“ he whispers, his hips buck due to his sensitivity, burying his head in the crook of your neck. You can’t help but feel proud of the control you now have over him, a grin creeping across your face before you slide your tongue between his lips into his mouth; passionately moving your lips around his.

You pull back and glance down to his length pushing at the fabric of his pants, a small wet spot has formed from the leaking precum. He moans deeply, grasping and pulling at your thighs as you apply more pressure with your fingers, bringing attention to the head with your thumb, circling the slit. You look up at him, he looks away as a moan escapes his lips. You can see he’s trying to keep it in, cheeks red, his hips jerk again.

“Why are you so quiet love?” You question him, knowing full well the answer as to why.

He struggles to get words out as he hisses, your fingers still playing with the tip of his erection.

“d-don’t think yo-“ his words end harshly as your hand moves up to his face. You wrap your fingers around is jaw, not tightly but applying enough pressure so he knows; he has nothing on you right now.

“Don’t think what?” you ask firmly, eyes staring directly at him.

You move your mouth towards his ear, hot breathe flowing over his lobe and neck, whispering gently

“you’re mine”

Vernon’s head tilts back slightly and goosebumps run down his body.

A sudden ring hits your ears as you glance over at the counter. Your phone is lit up, a message from your coworker asking if you wanted breakfast. Damn it, your meeting. Checking the time you curse under your breath, hopping off the counter and brushing past Vernon to grab your work bag. Your eyes shoot back to his and his face is covered in disappointment.

“I know babe I’m sorry, I can’t miss this though”

You briefly contemplate calling in sick just to continue, seeing the combination of his ruffled hair and yearning eyes makes your heart beat rapidly.

You slip your shoes on and you can hear his whines coming nearer; excuses to make you stay, begging you, fall from his mouth.

Annoyance fills his eyes and face, arms crossed as he stands slumped in front of you.

Just when you had him right where you wanted, your chest sinks with fiery guilt, teasing him like this and not being able to finish what you started.

With the limited time you had to grab your jacket and run out the door, you have an idea, making your skin tingle.

Your face washes over with a forbidding emotion, you glare at him.

“you are not to do anything with yourself until I get home, understood?” you say in a commanding voice.

He stares at you, squirming at your harsh tone.

“I can’t make any promises” he teases

“understood?” your head now cocked and eyebrows raised to show you aren’t kidding.

He gulps, throat dry. Nodding his head in agreement, cheeks becoming immediately flushed. Checking the time again (7:35) you fly out the door, leaving Vernon in slight shock wanting so much more.

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