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#bad at recognizing people things if they’re too different than what they’ve looked like before
bunnyrapline · 2 years
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If we’re actually not meant to recognize the bodies we’re seeing it might be b/c everyone starts over in a new loop and so those are all the bodies of everyone outside the crew that have died in different universes
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tropetember · 10 months
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Friends To Lovers - Two characters have been friends for years and value their friendship above everything. Unfortunately, they’ve both also secretly fallen in love with each other - but are both too scared to confess because it feels like a betrayal of their friendship.
Secret Identity - Characters A & B have secret alter egos- they’re both in love with the wrong identity.
Whump - A character is comforted/cared for in the aftermath of torture, but the mental wounds take longer to heal than the physical damage.
Coffee Shop/Restaurant AU - Character A is waiting for a blind date and is stood up. Character B is just finishing up their shift at the establishment and, seeing the looks that A is getting, offers to stay and eat with them despite their own exhaustion.
Famous AU - Character A meets Character B for the first time and recognizes their voice as A’s favourite podcaster/radio host/voice actor.
Teacher AU - Character A is a single parent and Character B is their child’s teacher.
Historical AU - The characters are living through a historical war (WWI, WWII, etc). Their main means of communication is through letter-writing. (Epistolary fic with optional in-person scenes between/after letters.)
Time Loop/Coma - Character A is in a coma and keeps reliving the last day before they lost consciousness. There’s something they have to realise before they can wake up.
5 + 1 - 5 times Character A’s kid calls Character B Mom/Dad + 1 time Character B acknowledges they’re their kid.
Drunk Dial - Character A is obsessed with Character B and gets black-out drunk to deal with it. Someone should definitely have taken away their phone.
Business Partners To Friends To Lovers - Character A and Character B meet by chance and, realising they have compatible skills, decide to embark on a business venture together. However, they are not prepared for all the ramifications that come with working alongside each other.
Touch Starvation - A character has spent years building up a tough, strong, untouchable persona. What happens when someone finally touches them gently? (Can be romantic or platonic.)
Slice Of Life - The story of two characters written through scenes only happening in one room of their house. (A number of scenes of domestic life happening in the same room of the house).
Human/Monster Romance - Character A is a human and Character B is a sapient sea creature, and a storm washes them both up and leaves them stranded on a tiny, remote, uninhabited island.
Dating App - Character A’s friends sign them up for a no-faces dating app. Reluctantly, Character A meets someone. Character B is a bit worried about them meeting strangers so they tell their own dating-app friend all about it.  (Or: the Bantr app fic)
Reunions - Two characters reunite many years after a traumatic parting, but new information is revealed that puts everything into a different light.
Love Confession - Character A has been in love with Character B for a long time, and they’ve been trying to confess ever since, but Character B is oblivious to their attempts (or doesn’t believe they are serious). This leads to Character A making increasingly more elaborate and even ridiculous plans to prove their feelings.
Mind Reading - Character A is involved in an incident and can suddenly hear the thoughts of people around them - but only when those people are thinking about Character A. That’s unfortunately bad news for Character B.
Disaster AU - Character(s) get trapped under a collapsing building and have to wait for help without knowing if it’s coming.
Horror - Characters A & B reunite, but slowly Character B realises that Character A’s body is being controlled by… something else.
Age Changes/Future Fic - Characters A & B are old together. Some things change but some things always stay the same.
Major Character Death (maybe!) - Character A is dead. Everything reminds Character B of them. (Character death doesn’t need to be permanent.)
Mythology - Character A is an immortal being/god and Character B is the only mortal who’s interacted with them in centuries.
Accidental Baby Acquisition - Character A rescues a baby/kid, and is then made responsible for the child. Character B is unprepared when they bring them home.
Not Actually Unrequited Love - Character A is trying to move on from Character B by setting B up on a date. Unfortunately, Character B takes this as confirmation that their own feelings for A are not returned.
Fake Dating - Character B pretends to be Character A’s partner so they can stay together while A is sick/injured. The charade goes on far longer than either of them expect. Finally being apart should be a relief, so why does it feel more like a real breakup?
Sexuality Crisis - A repressed character in a homophobic society finds themselves thrust into a city’s underground gay scene, where they meet someone they never expected.
Holidays - Character A’s family is expecting them to bring a date to the annual holiday family reunion. They choose to bring Character B (dating optional).
Regency Style Romance - ‘It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single person in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a spouse.’ (Feel free to change gender as needed.)
Optional:
Hanahaki Disease - Character A is not good at expressing their emotions - this time it might just kill them.
Cowboy/Wild West AU - Character A wants to leave the city. They answer to a newspaper ad for a spouse/farm hand to live on a remote homestead owned by Character B.
Free Space - write the wildest thing you can think of!
Link to main Prompt List
Link to Rules & FAQ
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falseroar · 2 years
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A little too sleep-deprived to put it in good words, but I keep thinking about how the Universal Stability Agency website had those blurbs about the suspects, and Mark’s said he was too trusting of the Captain. Which felt odd, when the Captain’s page said they make good decisions.
But watching part 2 and thinking back over part 1, I think it makes a lot more sense. Mark trusts the Captain, he even says at one point that the only person he trusts more than himself is the Captain, and every time someone brings up an option he would immediately turn it over to the Captain. Even when he thought the choice was stupid (like sending a distress signal), he still went with it. Early on, when it was all about trying to fix the problems popping up one after the other, Mark is excited to see how the Captain is going to deal with the ADS, like really, almost uncomfortably excited. He protests when the Captain keeps sending him in again, but it takes years of abuse before he finally snaps in that timeline.
Mark trusted the Captain to the point he had them on a pedestal, believing they could do no wrong or easily forgiving them when he thought they made a mistake (like the distress signal). The problem is, no matter how great the Captain supposedly is at making good decisions, they’re still human. The whole point of ISWM is that people just...make mistakes.
Mark’s trust is slowly chipped away over time, like when he has that visible moment of doubt after saying only he and the Captain could have sabotaged the ship, or when he tries to get the Captain to confirm that the wormhole incident was the first time he died, or when Lady calls them a monster and accuses them of killing so many people.
Part 2 is where we really see that trust utterly shattered. Mark sees the Captain has the warp crystal and thinks Lady was right, that they had no intention of shutting the warp core down. He arrives in the warp core room to find the machine missing and thinks the Captain was the one behind its disappearance. And on and on, those bits of doubt plus the Captain never getting a chance to really explain (if they even know what’s going on anymore) eating away at him as he lives life after life and failure after failure to fix things until it feels like someone must be working against him.
Like I said, kind of half-formed thoughts and feelings, I just wonder if a lot of In Space happened because Mark couldn’t believe the Captain could make a mistake or that they don’t understand what’s going on, so therefore these bad things that keep happening must be intentional.
When he realizes that he’s the one who made the mistake, despite all his good intentions, when he admits to the Captain that he’s so tired and looks at them and asks if they’ve slept, it’s like he’s recognizing himself in them--two people just trying to fix something that feels so out of control, two people who think they’re doing the right thing but can’t really know for sure, two people capable of making mistakes because they’re both just human.
Two people just trying to find a way to end all of this. The only difference he can find is that while he gave up on the Captain once he saw what felt like the worst of them, they didn’t give up on him even after everything he had done. The end, when they’re standing together at the window looking out over the planet, when Mark thanks them, it feels...not stiff, just different than how they’ve interacted before. Like he and maybe the Captain too are both still awkward, still adjusting to their new understanding of the other person.
I, um, can’t really think of a clever conclusion here. Like I said, just some muddled thoughts.
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waugh-bao · 8 months
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I think one issue is the Stones are trying to treat it as simply a new album rather than a new album after a big and significant loss. And obviously no one wants an album launch to be a downer, but it seems like they would recognize that they get asked about Charlie frequently and do something to address it. It doesn't have to be an album of mournful music, but I wish they would sometimes try and be proactive rather than reactive. I know Mick isn't a 'live in the past' sort of person, but even just taking the time to talk about how it was different without Charlie and they miss him and are excited for people to hear him on those two songs would go a long way. Make it as positive as possible. Instead it is like 'answer one question about Charlie and then they just rush on to talk about Steve.' At the same time, typing that out makes me feel like I'm saying they need to demonstrate their grief more and I don't mean that...but maybe there is a tiny part of me that does want that, to know that they really do miss him even though I know they did love him? Its complicated I guess.
Its different now. Its not going to be the Beggar's Banquet launch or even the Bigger Bang launch. They are in a different place. Mick is 80. Maybe they don't want to talk about age and that but they can't act as if everything is still just great and everything is like it has always been. The fact that they are talking about their collaborators and guest artists...I don't think the old Stones would do that. They were enough, they don't need other headliners.
Obviously we are looking at things through a definite Charlie slant because he's our guy. But I think all Stones fans know the band is different now. I don't need everything to be 100% Charlie-centric but there has to be something beyond "oh yeah that guy who was our foundation for 60 years is gone now but oh well, moving on" I really, really hate to think of them doing it again if something happened to Ronnie. Would Mick do it if something happened to Keith?
I think as much as, or more, than wanting a ‘demonstration of grief’, it’s a matter of respect. They spent 60 years working so hard to make the world see what an amazing drummer and wonderful human being Charlie was, made a point to have him as the centerpiece of the No Filter and 60th Anniversary Tour shows, and always do something for his birthday, death date, etc. (What’s been said in interviews has been a little less consistently great since he passed, but they’re human, and obviously there are a lot of complicated emotions to work through, including anger). Now it just feels as though they’ve entirely dropped the ball, or are even trying to shove any mention of his aside, like he’s some ‘disloyal’ band member who quit instead of a person who loved them but had no choice in leaving.
Oh, totally. They know, though they would never admit it, that a Stones album with a ton of collaborators and guest/fill-in artists is almost never a great Stones album. Dirty Work (1986) is the archetypal example of that. And I think you’re right, a lot of what makes this feel so discomforting is that they’re treating it like every other album launch, when the unspoken assumption underlying it is that this is the last album launch. They don’t have 18 more years to fool around. Like the bit in the press conference where Fallon asked them how fast the album was done, Ronnie said “very”, and Mick explained that they’d been “lazy” about it up to a point, but for reasons he couldn’t remember, suddenly decided to set themselves a deadline to finish. Everyone knows that’s BS and that some arbitrary deadline wasn’t what kicked them in the ass to get this done, nor does it give a sufficient response for why everything recorded before 2019 was binned.
It’s a bad look, and I think even more eyebrows would be raised if they replaced Ronnie too. As far as Mick and Keith, I wish I could say I knew 100% he wouldn’t make that choice, but I don’t. You’d like to hope Mick has the humanity, or the common sense, to see how bad that would be/look, but with the right record exec in his ear and the promise that he wouldn’t have to retire, I wouldn’t entirely rule it out. And if they do stop if Ronnie or Keith is unable to go on, the lovely implication of such a choice is that Charlie wasn’t worth stopping for, but one of them is. They opened up a Pandora’s box continuing on as they did after No Filter.
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guardxdavis · 9 months
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sinqua walls, bisexual, male + he/him ― hey look, it’s davis brooks! they’re 33 years old, they’ve lived in shrike heights for one week, and they’re currently working as a security guard in shrike mall. i heard they’re pretty uncertain, but i think they’re so brave at the same time. can they make it out alive?
Davis Brooks thought he had his entire life figured out. Coming from a military family, there was never any doubt about what he’d be. His grandfather was a Marine, and both his parents were in the army (which was how they met), and then his older brother and sister both followed in their footsteps, joining the navy and the air force, respectively. For him, it felt strange not to join the ranks as well, and beyond that, Davis genuinely wanted to, especially after his father was killed overseas. For Davis, there was no greater aspiration than protecting people, and that was what he wanted to do, so he joined the army like his parents.
Davis rose through the ranks, and he truly felt like he'd found his calling. This was his dream, and it was coming true. However, his personal life was not as fulfilling. He’d dated, but he’d never had a relationship last. And even worse, he wasn’t sure he’d ever loved any of his past significant others, and the longer things went this way, the more discouraged Davis became. Maybe love wasn’t something meant for him. Or maybe he just couldn’t get over his first love.
Growing up, Davis and his best friend Alec had been inseparable, and for Davis at least, it been more than that - he’d been in love. However, Alec had always claimed to be straight, so Davis had accepted that, never professing his love for the man. It was enough just to be near him. As they got older though, they began to drift apart as they went down different paths, Alec falling in with a bad crowd. Davis had tried to help, but there was only so much you could do for a person who didn’t want help. And eventually, they lost touch.
That changed though in a way Davis had never expected. There was a home burglary in his hometown, wherein one of the residents had been badly beaten, and Davis discovered on the news that the description of the perpetrator matched Alec, particularly a unique scar on his arm that Davis remembered from a biking accident. But that couldn’t be right; the Alec he knew wouldn’t hurt anyone. So he told no one, instead looking into it himself, and after a bit of searching, Davis tracked Alec down.
When they reunited, it was like no time had passed. Alec seemed genuinely happy to see him, and after talking, Davis knew that Alec couldn’t have done this. Alec swore he had nothing to do with the break-in, and he seemed aghast that suspicion was ever thrown on him. Davis believed him, though he was admittedly troubled when he learned that Alec had briefly dated the man who had been attacked. But Davis had been thrown off by the fact that Alec wasn’t as straight as he had assumed, and his friend revealed that he’d always had a crush on Davis. And then the men finally acted on their long-standing feelings for each other.
Alas, Davis had been wrong: the house was broken into again, and just as before, the man had been attacked. This time he’d had a security system installed, so he escaped major injury, but his security cameras had footage of the attacker fleeing. The footage was shown on the news, and when he watched it, Davis knew it was Alec despite the grainy footage. Even though the man’s face was covered, he recognized the scar and the tattoo on Alec's wrist he’d seen during their night together. Davis felt so foolish, and, angry with himself, told his mother everything, seeking her advice. She was furious he’d kept this to himself, and after his mother called the police, they converged on Alec's house. Wanting to talk to his friend, to try and convince him to turn himself in, Davis went there too, reaching the house at the same time as the cops. But Alec would not come quietly, and there was a standoff wherein two people were shot before they were able to get into the house and arrest Alec. One of them was an officer who was hit in the spine and would be paralyzed from the waist down for the rest of his life. The other was Davis, hit by what he thought was a stray bullet.
The wound could have been worse: Davis was shot in the shoulder, and apart from some physical limitations, he’d made a full recovery, though he was no longer deemed fit to serve due to his injury, and the army honorably discharged him. But Davis would never forgive himself for letting love blind him to Alec's true nature. His mother never told anyone else (her call to the police had been an anonymous tip), though the police briefly questioned Davis given the fact that he'd been there during the standoff. But Davis's mother could not look at him the same way, and Davis couldn’t blame her. So she suggested he move to Shrike Heights, the town she grew up in and where her mother still owned a home, having recently retired to Florida. After his siblings figured out what had happened, Davis had nothing keeping him in Boston.
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serifsans · 2 years
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???
The little pink volph awakens from their nap and suddenly finds themself tilted, slipping out of the glass onto something warm and soft that feels like a bed. A bed seems like a tremendously good place to continue their nap, even better than a vase, but they hear vampires talking all around them with their silly, wet mouth-sounds, so maybe they should pay attention in case someone wants licks or to pet their tummy. Their tail wags before they even open their eyes. They knew the vampires would save them! They always did.
A big huddle of vampires -some small and some tall and some wrinkled and old- stare at them, none of which they recognize. This isn’t unusual. Vivi is very clever and knows that servants and guests come in and out of the house. These ones are dressed very nicely, so they must be guests. How fun! Vivi loves it when guests are over because they smell different and sometimes they ruffle their ears, which is an amazing experience you just can’t get back Home because hands hadn’t been invented yet until the first volph met the first vamp.
"It’s her. Vivi. I haven’t seen her since I was a boy,” says an old vampire with a face full of wrinkles, “we spent so much time looking for her, we thought she was stolen, but she was here all along.”
Oh no, the vampires had to make a tremendous fuss just to find them. They hope they didn’t have to take too much time out of their day but surely they’ll understand given the circumstances. Besides, it was only a little nap but when you’re looking for something, everything seems to take longer. Vampires need to learn how to rush less and play more.
The other vampires murmur to themselves but Vivi pays them little attention because some mouth-sounds are hard to understand but also because there are so many new sniffs on the wind. So many new vampire smells! So many new flower smells! So many new red juice smells! Their tail thumps in excitement but not too much; being too energetic is a bad volph thing to do and they know how to follow the rules of the game.
Their thoughts are suddenly distracted by the old vampire stroking their fur. Vivi immediately flops over and shows their belly because this is a cute volph thing to do and they’re cute. They didn’t know what cute was before they came here but they’re glad they did because now they understand who they are better. Success! Belly rubs! Vivi knows a fun trick, which is to lick people while they pet your belly. Vampires don’t have fur or vapors because they’re built funny but that’s okay, they still taste alright....and smell familiar? Vivi stops licking, starts sniffing instead.
Oh! It’s Eno! It’s their baby boy! Oh, how fantastic! He finally learned to shapeshift properly while they were napping because now he’s all tall and wrinkly. How very clever! He’s such a smart boy! Vivi knew that he’d get it right one day! They feel like such a good mother right now. Maybe someone will give them a treat for doing a good job raising him.
Barking is a bad volph thing to do inside unless there’s danger, even though they want to do it, but wiggling around is a good volph thing to do, so they wiggle on their back, tail wagging, tongue sticking out because everyone thinks that’s funny.
“Vivi, it’s been so long,” says their clever, good son and he picks them up like a baby, which is always fantastic because it’s like someone carrying you in their mouth but without danger of getting poked. They nuzzle in close.
There’s a confused whine from the doorway and Vivi knows that whine! An iridescent blue volph with long, long legs pads into view and Vivi knows those legs! They’ve darted under them so many times! Vivi knows those shimmers and shines! This is their very best friend! Oh, how fun! They can show them all around the garden and the big hallway you can slide down and their children and even the special spot where they bury shiny things from the jewelry box!
What a good day! What a good nap! They’re going to have so much fun together!
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sukirichi · 3 years
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true gift
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A god like Naoya is about to see how his little mortal is hiding a true gift.
REQUEST.  deity au + virgin sacrifice for naoya + reader with worship kink
CONTENT/WARNINGS. virginity loss, naoya isn’t nice, mentions of blood,  murder, abduction, praise kink, slight degradation, fingering, overstimulation, slight breeding kink, creampie, orgasm denial, mentions of slavery, face fucking, reader is willingly consenting to pain, reader is a masochist, naoya is a sadist 
NOTES. ah...it feels so natural to write naoya...also can someone send me some good erotic hentai panels, yay <3
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Today is the day – the one you’ve been prepared for ever since you’ve forced to make acquaintance with the blinding darkness and smell of rust.
What time is it? Is it morning, night...maybe somewhere in the middle?
There’s no telling, not when you’ve been staring at the pitch black darkness for what seems like forever. It’s been too long, so long, that you’ve forgotten what the world looks like. It’s like one day you’re helping your family tend to the farms when rough hands grabbed at you, and you’re shoved in a cold, dark cellar before you could even say good bye.
Oddly enough, the servants – or at least that’s what you assume they are, since they’ve been nothing but tight lipped and inherently obedient to a faceless figure – have taken extreme care of you.
Twice a day, they’d open the cellar, the sound of keys rustling and nearly muted footsteps like music into your ears. The slight sliver of light passing through from the outside is immediately concealed within a split second, a black smooth material wrapped around your eyes before they strip you off. Normally, you’d complain and fight back, but you’ve lost all the will to even defend yourself at this point.
You’ve given up a long time ago, and life’s been a lot more tolerable ever since.
Today isn’t any different. Maybe it was hours ago, two servants had came in to wash away the grime and dirt from your body before you felt something combing through your hair. Then, you felt it. A smooth, cold blade running up and down every inch of your body, rendering you immobile in fear even breathing could cut you open.
It didn’t. If anything, you felt a lot smoother, lighter, and freer.
“Is she bare?” an old, croaky feminine voice echoed in the small room, equally wrinkled hands removing the strap of your bra off before she lathers a rose-scented cream all over your body. “Naoya-sama prefers his slaves hair-free, you know that. Not even stubble is allowed, do you understand? Keep shaving her until she’s spotless.”
Naoya-sama.
So that’s where you were. It all made sense now.
For as long as you could remember, that name’s been spoken with terror, the slight tremble of voices and darkened eyes pooled with fear never absent in the presence of his name. You’ve never seen him, but you know enough to understand that he’s a prominent figure especially in your little village. He’s not human, but he’s not exactly a god either – at least, not one that people would willingly worship.
You’ve heard telltales on how his beauty alone had women dropping to their feet, the malice in those eyes of his enough to make even the strongest warriors stick to his side in fear of what he’s capable of.
He’s as old as time and as strong as the steady flow of the river you and your people have always bathed in. It doesn’t make sense that someone as fearsome as he was is living at the mountains where nothing but quiet, peaceful people rejoiced, but the more you think about it, of course he’d prefer his people submissive, heads always ducked in fear and shaking in terror.
This whole time, you thought you’d been sold off to a neighbouring clan head because your clan didn’t have enough funds to pay for the latest trade.
In a way, you’d feel a lot luckier if the former had happened instead, because there’s really no proper way of making sound of the fact you’re sacrificed to your own deity, Naoya Zen’in, after not completing your offerings to him for ten whole moons.
It’s bad, horribly so, and you should be shaking, should be crying, should be wishing for death instead, so then why are you deferential? You don’t complain when two rough hands pull you from the ground and keep your arms tight in shackles at your lower back, vision still obscured by this cloth as you’re guided somewhere – someplace that all the sacrificed women for your deity are received.
Your feet are sloppy and smacking against the hardwood floor, heart pulsing in your tongue for all the wrong reasons. Faintly, you can smell a rose-scented candle and water splashing, but it doesn’t register until you’re immersed under it.
You gasp, hair flattening onto your skin while you look around blindly, struggling to clutch onto something as your feet keep slipping into the tub.
You’ve never been into a tub before; much less recognize the soft, paper-like objects floating into the water with you. Head swaying side to side until water is sprayed everywhere, a firm hand keeps your head in place just as a pumice stone is scrubbed into your skin. It’s not painful, but the rough scraping sensation feels sensitive from your skin that hasn’t been exposed to normal, breathing air for who knows how long.
“Stop moving,” that same elderly voice commanded, and her assistants, most likely, move quickly into extending your limbs until you’re sprawled out everywhere. “We are to make you perfect, presentable, lavishing in front of our deity himself.”
“B-but —”
“You have no right to speak!” You’re left stunned as your cheek bruises red, lips wet from the water as you pant. The sting on your skin becomes more pronounced, but you dare not speak, opting to keep your lips shut instead. The elderly woman takes notice of your behaviour, humming before she makes you stand up, that same blade swiping down your exposed regions. “You learn fast and submit well. I think we have a worthy sacrifice for tonight.”
“She is gorgeous too, my Lady.”
“She should be,” comes a retort, your jaw clenched as you keep still. She forces your legs further apart until you’re embarrassingly exposed, the rose petals in the water sticking into some corners of your skin. “If she was not, she’d be dead already. It’s her pretty face that’s keeping her alive at this point.”
Everything is a blur after that.
One moment, they’re shaving you, the next you’re thrown from one body to another. They perform all sorts of things – towel drying your hair, exfoliating your skin, plucking your eyebrows to perfection before applying a shimmer to your cheeks and something sticky and glossy to your lips, then finally you feel the warmth of silk robes you could never afford even if you work yourself to death caressing your body.
After that, you’re locked inside a much bigger room, the blindfold falling off your face slowly.
You blink in surprise.
The room isn’t that dark, but dim enough, and your heart beats louder in your chest when you see the size of the room. It’s ten times bigger than your village meeting point, a large tatami bed sat in the middle. From one side, a window is open, allowing you to see the white illumination of the moonlight that looks hauntingly romantic.
Candles are lit on either sides of the room, and your gaze lands on odd whip-like weapons placed proudly on the walls.
Your legs are wobbly as you stand, life just coming back into your unused muscles. Making your way towards it, you reach out to touch this...weapon that’s still somewhat coated with the stench of blood. It’s immaculately clean and the leather is shiny, though it’s clear this has been used for far more gruesome situations before.
I think we have a worthy sacrifice for tonight.
You recoil your hand that’s a breath away from coming into contact with it, terror plaguing deep into your bones as you take a step back.
You’re a sacrifice, an offering, sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice – you’re brought here to die, and your god would kill you himself. Others may have considered it an honour to have died from the mercy of his hands, your oh-so divine lord who’s brought prosperity and wealth into your land, but you turn away, breathing hard as you make a break for the door.
But you never made it.
Your back lands into someone’s chest, a slight gasp falling from your lips before you’re pummelled into the ground, strong hands pinning your arms above your head. Eyes widening, you come face to face with your deity, his fox-eyes lined with dark kohl sharpening his already predatory features, ears pierced with tiny skulls and black dots.
His knee nudges your leg open and you groan, the sound making his eyes dart at you in warning before he smirks upon seeing you make no move to get away from him.
“As I’ve heard,” his deep voice cuts through the eerie silence of the room, the night so mute not even birds or insects cricketed at the presence of your deity’s need to have you for himself. “You are a compliant little lamb sent to the slaughter,” you shiver as his fingers run to caress the side of your face, his free hand undoing the knots that keeps your modesty. Naoya hums deep in his throat when the cloth falls to the sides, revealing perky nipples that pushed closer and closer to his awaiting lips at each heavy breath you took.
“You are stunning,” he praises, using a thumb to graze over the hardened bud. It’s barely a touch, but you’re sensitive, wholly new to this that you whimper. The sound is humiliating and utterly pathetic, your teeth coming down to capture your lips.
This displeases him entirely and Naoya taps your lips open, glaring at your wide, fearful yet aroused gaze. “You do not ever conceal such shameful sounds when I’m above you, do you understand?” You nod shakily, freeing your lip from its confines. Naoya snickers, chest puffing up with pleasure before he leans back to his calves, pushing the rest of your robe to the side until you’re completely exposed to him.
Your breathing grows more laboured when Naoya spreads your legs open, smirking as you whimper at the stretch of having your knees flattened by your sides. Legs placed on top of his knees, your elevated posture gives him more access to your bare pussy, his gaze zeroing in on the gleaming arousal that’s beginning to form on your lips.
“So fucking wet,” he comments, using both his thumbs to pry your pussy apart. You moan at the sensation of him pressing down on a part of you that you don’t know existed, and Naoya laughs, the sound sinister yet erotic. “You’re a virgin.”
It’s not a question – it’s a statement he takes pride in, especially because he knows he’s the chosen one to take something precious away from you.
“I’ve always loved virgins,” Naoya’s hands roam all across your body, slowly, sensually, passionately, the rough, calloused hands running under your legs to hitch them up behind his broad back, to cup your soft ass before he cups your pussy, groaning into your neck when he feels you leak and he’s barely touching you to begin with. It makes his ego swell when your hands wrap around his neck; he hates being touched by mere, lowly mortals like you, but you are undeniably gorgeous and so wanting of him that he allows you just this once. “Always so sensitive – do you want to be good for your deity? Hm?”
“Y-yes!” you cry out, eyes snapping shut when he suddenly inserts a finger in.
The feeling is foreign yet not totally unwelcomed, but you grimace anyway at the slight sting his digits bring. Naoya pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy to coax your arousal to drip further into the sheets like a waterfall, your nails digging into his robes while he watches you with a smirk. He laughs when your eyes widen at the second finger pushing in, thumb rubbing over your clit until your legs tremble around him.
“Virgins are always so gorgeous once they finally learn of pleasure,” he scoffs to himself.
You look at him straight in the eye, mouth falling open while small gasps fall through at the speed he’s pushing into you at.
Something begins to form in your lower bally until your body grows utterly warm, something...something close about to snap when he pulls his fingers out of you, throwing his head back in laughter when you cry for the first time that night.
Naoya stares at the way your gaze darts from his cum-soaked fingers back to your drenched core, brows raised cockily before he stands up, his figure looming over you. “What? Got something to say?” you only whimper in response, closing your legs as you try to provide answers to the brooding confusion punching at the back of your skull.
The sound of faint rustling brings you back to life, your eyes snapping to witness your god undressing himself, the robes falling from his shoulders too wonderfully that the mere sight of him has you clenching around nothing.
Fat cock standing tall and proud, tip red and glistening with pre-cum and a body carved by fellow gods himself, the rumours were right.
He is beautiful, and it’s no lie that his slaves aren’t really slaves to begin with, not when all of them have been so eager to please him, just to have a taste of this divine being that stands before you. Naoya easily reads your face; from the slightly parted lips, thighs rubbing together and hands looming dangerously to your core – you look so needy it’s actually fucking pathetic.
He’s slow in his movements, languid and taking his time because he’s got time and more in this world that he never cares about wasting something he has a plethora of.
Naoya makes himself at home above you again, basking in the way you’re struggling to breathe even without his hands on you. It doesn’t take long before he pushes two of his fingers inside your mouth, clenching his jaw when you open your mouth submissively, innocent eyes blinking up at him as you take your juices into your mouth.
You’re a natural at this, he observes, tongue expertly swirling around his digits until you’ve licked it clean. Naoya pats your cheek affectionately, his own way of applauding you for your work.
Under him, you grow shy and abashed, arms covering your bare breasts because he’s a god, why should he be pleased with you?
Naoya doesn’t give you enough time to think before he’s hauling you upwards, your shoulders shoved back onto the ground. You kneel below him in prayer and he tugs at your hair, forcing you to look at him, or rather his cock that’s slipping past your lips. You gag when he pushes his length all the way inside, the tip of it hitting the back of your throat.
Naoya sighs at finally being taken in – you should be grateful he even fingered you – his hands guiding your head to bob up and down him.
You do well at pleasing him even through the tears, clutching at his thighs while you suck in his length and swirl your tongue around the prominent veins. Naoya watches with hooded eyes as your cheeks hollow just to take his whole length in – and again, you’re a natural – so eager to please him too when you keep pushing and pushing, his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat.
His muscles ripple above you while he lets out a long, drawn out groan, nails scratching your scalp. You feel him twitch inside you and that’s when he takes over, snapping his hips ruthlessly until you’re left gagging and sucking his cock helplessly.
Your saliva is dribbling at the edges of your mouth, looking so fucked out and whore-like while he pushes himself to the edge. He doesn’t care that you’re choking and your eyes are zooming out of focus from not being able to breathe. He doesn’t care that you could die from asphyxiation, he doesn’t care because you’re his sacrifice – if you can’t even do this simple thing, then how else could you prove you’re worthy to live?
You know this too because you force yourself to breathe through your nose instead, wanting to show that you are worthy, that you can please and take him however he pleases you to.
Naoya isn’t stupid, he can see what you’re doing and can read your mind even in his lust-driven state. Nothing edges him more than a good, submissive whore. Now that he knows you’re willing to do anything without complaints, Naoya pulls his cock out just seconds away from orgasm, pushing you back into the mat with a grunt.
“You’re so fucking good for me,” he hisses and pushes both your legs to the side, your body bent and pussy left open for him.
Naoya groans as he slides himself inside you. You’re wet enough that he slides in easily, but your virgin cunt is still too tight and new to this that you scream around him, subconsciously clenching around him harder.
“You’d do anything for me, yeah?” he challenges, cupping your face while he rams into you hard, uncaring that your walls are beyond abused and a ring of blood is already coating his cock. This isn’t the first time he’s taken someone’s purity, but this is the first time he’s had someone look gratified that he’s hurting them, fuelling him to fuck harder into you despite the steady stream of tears down your face. “Look at you – so obedient,” he pinches your nipples and rolls them between fingers, growling at the way your pained moan sounds more like an encouragement for him to go harder. “You want to please me so bad you don’t care I’m hurting you? Are you so eager to worship me that you won’t even stop me?”
“N-no, my lord,” you manage through the pain, regulating your breathing as you completely break down in tears. Naoya is hitting a spot deep inside you that makes your insides feel like they’re about to burst, and he takes note of this, pinching your clit just to get you to clamp down on him. “Please – use me however you want – please.”
Naoya smirks, pressing your knees flat on the ground before he hovers above you, forearms planted beside your head. At any other given moment, he prefers to fuck his sacrifices with their face planted on the ground because he can’t bear to see how disgusting they are, but you – you’re so damn beautiful it puts his fellow gods to shame.
Now yours is a face he’d like to keep looking at, so he roughly grabs your cheeks and squeezes them with his fingers, kissing your puckered lips and nipping at them.
You taste heavenly too; his servants did a good job of choosing honey as a gloss. Naoya greedily licks your lips until he’s shoving his tongue inside your mouth the same way his dick is ramming inside your walls, tight, puffy lips wrapped happily around his base.
You’re moaning inside his mouth as he squeezes your breast painfully. Never in your whole life have you thought that pain would feel so good, enticing you to moan louder when the sting finally subsides, replaced with the mind-numbing sensation of his thick length rubbing against every ridge of your walls. Naoya pulls his face away from you, his cum and your saliva sticky on your face and he chuckles, the sound stuttered and breathy, brows drawn together.
He looks down to watch the way you accommodate him; this is by far the tightest and wettest cunt he’s ever fucked – ever will fuck – that he doesn’t think he’ll be satisfied with any random whore’s pussy anymore.
Naoya frowns as anger bubbles up inside him, hatred making his cock swell inside you because how dare you make him wish he won’t take anyone again.
He wants more – want to kill more people, want to fuck more virgins, want to have more blood showering his skin until he’s bathed in glory and gore, but even though you’re the one he’s destroying, he’s slipping on the edge, too lost and hypnotized at the way your tight walls suck him in. Your moans don’t help either; they’re breathy and whiny, so defeated yet so eager to have more that Naoya grips your hips tight enough he might’ve cracked a femur from his godly strength.
Your scream this time is that of pain and loss, grappling on the sheets while white bursts through your eyes. Your orgasm comes crashing down on you overwhelmingly and you fall limp to the sheets, your translucent cum soaking his cock along with the previous blood, but Naoya doesn’t stop.
He keeps slamming into you until you’re mute from oversensitivity, hands cold with sweat and eyes empty while he uses you as his own fuck toy.
He gets there eventually, the room painted with his groans followed by a feral snarl, the rhythm of his thrusts turning sloppy and unbalanced. Naoya stills inside you after burying himself to the hilt, his crotch angrily rubbing at your pelvic bone as he cums. You whimper at the feeling of his warm seed spilling inside you in thick spurts. Naoya pulls out with a slight wince, scoffing at the mess you’ve made on his precious dick, but he’s forced to soften a little when he sees both your cum spilling out your hole in a messy puddle, the liquid coating your ass.
Meek as always, you don’t move a muscle when Naoya spreads your legs open, inching his face close enough to watch the way your pussy stutters and legs tremble in front of him.
You’re absolutely ruined – the puffy lips spread out and hole still pushing out the remnants of his cum. He doesn’t bother pushing them back in, uncaring if he’ll get you pregnant or not because it’s not like matters to him. You are nothing but another body to fuck and dispose of under the river once he’s satisfied with you, but he surprises both you and him when Naoya suddenly pushes two fingers inside of you, his eyes dark as he insists on keeping his seed right where they should be nurtured.
Now that he’s sure that will make your belly grow and provide him with a half-mortal heir, Naoya retrieves his robes and walks out the room, the slamming of the door shut similar to an impending doom of an imminent death.
But not yours.
You’ve fulfilled your duty as the death curse bearer of your clan; the greatest and most formidable weapon they’ve been carving to perfection the moment you’re born. The cracks in your bones and bruises on your body immediately heal as you turn to your side, chanting under your breath a hushed whisper of the words of your ancestors who’ve perfectly planned the death of the Zen’in God who’s made his people suffer for thousands of years.
They would be proud of you.
And as a body crashes outside the door followed by the frantic screams of his confused servants, you smile to yourself, falling into a deep sleep upon using your true gift.
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angry-geese · 3 years
Text
For Myself
Sukuna x Reader
Warnings: nsfw mention. mention of violence, blood, injury, and cannibalism. implied murder. starts off kind of dark but gets fluffier towards the end. gn!reader.
obligatory warning for my poor editing skills. if theres any egregious errors i'll get to them when i get home from work
Summary: some fluff where Sukuna comforts the reader while they're sick
Word Count: 2.4k
He's certain you would be more comfortable in his lap than on the floor. Even as he beckons you to sit, you refuse, turning your gaze away. You adjust your position to a more comfortable spot on your knees. The floor is hard and cold, but you don't have much longer to wait anyway. Sukuna has grown bored of the man standing in front of him. A peace offering, in exchange for not razing their village. A young woman, brought here against her own will. Her life to replace yours. It's nothing Sukuna wants, nor can he make use of her. She’s no sorcerer, likely no good in a fight, and too frail to be worth eating.
Worst of all, it insults you.
An insult to you, is an insult to Sukuna himself.
The man was only delaying the inevitable. Humans have a habit of doing that. They’re resilient, like cockroaches. You can squash, poison, trap, or drop a nuke on as many as you want to, but they’ll always come back.
He planned on killing him from the moment he stepped foot in the door.
And when he kills him, he makes sure to have the woman watch. She lays curled at your feet as you regard them both with cold eyes. Not a scream passes her lips. She’s either frozen with fear, or knows that moving is the worst thing she can do.
She begs for her life.
Sukuna leaves it up to you to decide.
It was an insult to you, after all. In a past life you could see yourself letting her go. There's many things in life you used to do that are no longer habits of yours. You were in her shoes years ago. Time has hardened you, made you cruel. If a past version of you could look at you now, you don't know if you’d recognize yourself. Not all change is bad. People are meant to change, and they’re going to do so.
You give her a minute to start running. After that, it's up to Sukuna with what he wants to do with her.
She takes the opportunity, thinking she has a chance to survive, and flees. The guards and servants let her. Your word is second to Sukuna’s. The only person who could overturn an order put in place by you is Sukuna himself. He usually doesn't. The resulting chaos from anything you do is good entertainment. And he has all the time in the world. Being immortal leads to a lot of boredom.
Sukuna would hunt her down before she could escape the estate.
Nobody got away from him. Not even you. Nowadays you’re much less serious about leaving but you still threaten it if he dares piss you off.
He'd never let you go. You know that. Try as you will, you're never getting free.
Not that you have anything to go back to. And you're rather comfortable here. Comfortable may be a bit of a stretch, but you're housed, fed, and protected. The basic human needs are taken care of. Sukuna cares about you in his own, twisted way. You may have first been just a plaything to keep his stomach full and his balls empty—a toy to be discarded after a day or two—but you've earned a place by his side. He wakes up next to you, he goes to sleep next to you. He's grown used to having you around. And you to him.
You're just as much his, as he is yours.
Everything about the man is selfish, and all-consuming. But when he is with you, he finds himself giving for the first time in his life.
He gets a servant to draw him a bath. He has the decency to scrub the blood off before finding you, and asking you to join him. His bloodied kimono is replaced with a clean one. It's black, the sleeves are wide enough to accommodate his four arms. Blood doesn't bother you, but he doesn't want to track it all over his house.
Something is wrong.
He doesn't remember you getting hurt, but you’re acting like you’re injured. He thinks back to this morning, how he had to drag you out of bed. How sluggish you acted.
Worry creases itself between his eyebrows.
Your mortality was something he knew of, but never gave much thought. There was no need to. The mortality of others was something he didn't care about. You weren't supposed to be kept long. You were merely a sacrifice, meant to appease Sukuna, and in turn he wouldn't raze your village. While young, and pretty, not good enough to save your people. He planned on fucking you, burning your village to the ground, then eating you. Not necessarily in that order, but that was the plan.
He's taken everything from you. Your home, your life, your family. Even as you were forced to face your fate, you never gave in, never lost your bite. You defied him and lived. You had a malicious streak in you. You were never as sweet and as innocent as the people of your village first played you up to be. Years later you still put up the same fight. It's a constant back and forth between you two.
You’d never be able to hurt him. As much as you'd scratch and bite, you'd never so much as draw blood. Harming the King of Curses was not an easy task.
His 'love' was much more material at first. As you got settled down, survived more than a week, gifts appeared. Jeweled hair pins and beautiful, expensive kimonos appeared. All made just for you. He'd never admit to being behind it. You were not complacent, but you were comfortable. You were his spoiled pet. That didn't stop you from clawing at his eyes whenever he picked you up when you didn't want to be touched. Being spoiled didn't make you nice.
None of his pets have lasted quite as long as you have. At least eight times the trees of his estate have shriveled and turned brown in winter, and the ground has hardened with frost. At least eight times they've bloomed and have had the life of spring breathed back into them, and the ground has thawed and turned muddy. You just did what you had to in order to survive. You've more than just survived. Some would say you’ve thrived. You would beg to differ. If you were the begging type.
He still views you as a pet. You’re human after all. Though sometimes it feels like you’re becoming more curse than human. Being viewed as an equal to him is impossible, but he values you. You're not something that can easily be replaced.
His hand touches your shoulder from behind. You don't flinch. You used to flinch. Then you started swinging. You're never able to hurt him. You're strong, but not that strong.
"She was far too frail to eat," you say, "I assumed you didn't want to keep her for that."
You don't eat human meat. Or try not to. Early on in your stay, before you knew better… It wasn't pork. Uraume was a wonderful cook, but not for anything you ate. Personally it's not your thing. Non-human meat is hard to come by around here, so you’ve stopped eating the stuff altogether. If you wanted it, Sukuna would make a servant get it for you, but you are content without it.
"You made the right call." He says. You always do.
He slips beside you, watching as you remove the intricate pins from your hair. You always loved your hair. Even at your darkest moment you took great care of it. It was a source of pride for you.
A wave of nausea rolls over you. Sweat beads in your hairline, rolling down your back, under the thin fabric of your—his—robe. You have little need for clothes. It doesn't get that cold here. Sukuna tears them off you anyway. Covering yourself up isn't necessary, but you do it out of modesty, and a sense of normalcy. You protest as he pulls at the fastenings of your robe, the flimsy fabric pooling at your feet. You have no plans on getting wet, you’d much rather go to bed. You’re tired, and you don't want to be bothered.
The tub is large enough to fit several of you. You guess it's fitting. The man is huge. He settles into the water behind you, pulling you to his chest. Try as you will, you’re not going to be able to struggle out of his grip. You’re too tired to put up much of a fight, though you do complain.
One of his sets of arms wraps around you, effectively trapping you in place. The other pulls a washcloth from the side of the tub, into the water with you. As much as you hate to admit it, the warm water feels nice against your sore muscles.
Sukuna is not a sentimental man. But with the way his hands trace across your skin, soft, lovingly, like he’s reading a book of braille, makes you think otherwise. He doesn't leer at the curves of your body like he normally does. His eyes scan across your body, looking for any sign of injury.
When he deems you clean enough, and your skin has turned a nice shade of pink from the hot water, he lets you go. You're the first to get out, drying yourself off. You never realized how cold the room was before.
He hauls you into his arms. You do little to protest, which worries him.
The King of Curses has no need for sleep. The bed mostly serves for asthetic purposes, though he's not opposed to fucking you across any flat surface, you seem to favor softer ones.
Much like the tub, his bed is large enough to fit several of you. You feel dwarfed by its size. The man is huge, he needs a bed to fit. You could sprawl out as wide as possible and never have any of your limbs hanging over the sides.
He follows you, silent.
He can't recall ever letting any of his pets share his bed before. Some have tried. Tried. He can't recall any of them surviving as long as you have, either. He finds himself irritated at the thought of anything bad ever happening to you.
He doesn't join you in bed.
He doesn't need sleep the same way humans do. He can, but if he were to decide not to, it would bring no harm to him. He used to never dream. It was something he did, back when he was human, but that time has long passed. But whenever he dreamed, he’d wake up next to you. Experiences like that made him realize just why humans like to sleep so much. Before he never woke up rested; he was never tired in the first place.
You shove the covers aside and crawl underneath. They smell like him. He snubs out the candle burning on the side table with his index finger and thumb. Though it's dark, there’s enough light in the room to make out his much-larger form.
You shiver, although sweat forms along your skin in a thin sheen. Sukuna knows it's not cold. He sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. The back of his hand presses to your forehead. You’re burning up.
You were warm before, but he thought it was because of the bath. He’s not really sure what to do. It's rare moments like these that he's forced to face your mortality. He knows you're fragile—compared to him—but he can't bear the thought of something bad happening to you.
One of his large hands moves to cup your cheek. It's just as warm as your forehead. The pad of his thumb runs across your cheekbone.
"Stay with me." You say. You stretch your arms out towards him, making grabbing motions with your hands.
You’re not one to beg. Even when faced with death, you look it straight in the eyes. Call it bravery, or lack of self preservation. He admired that about you. You ignored your mortality because it did not matter to you.
“What's the matter, pet?”
“I don't feel too good.” You say.
Though he doesn't say it, he can tell.
“I’ll get Uraume-”
“No,” your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him back towards your chest, “no. I’m okay.”
He settles down beside you in bed, on top of the covers. When he opens his arms, you go right into them. He makes sure to keep the blankets tucked around you. Sukuna runs warm naturally. You huddle close to him, trying to steal his warmth. Though your face feels abnormally warm, you shiver. His much larger body lays partially on top of yours, his head resting on your chest, ear pressed to your skin. He can hear your heartbeat. Steady, and alive. Something low in your chest rattles when you breathe.
He should get a servant to bring you water, or some tea. It occurs to him how little he knows about the mundane things humans do to make themselves feel better. Not that he ever needed to care. In all the years you’ve been by his side, he’s never seen anything like this happen. He can't decide, and instead calls for both. If you need medicine, he’ll get that too, but you don't seem to be at that point. Uraume knows more about humans than he does. He’s no doctor, but he’ll work. If he asks you, you’ll just say you’re fine.
He holds the cup up to you, beckoning you to drink. The glass is cold against your lips. Even as your hands wrap around it, he doesn't let it go. He sets the empty glass on the side table with a soft thunk.
His large hand smoothes over your head, brushing your hair out of your eyes. His nails feel nice against your scalp. Nothing about the man is soft, but when he’s left alone with you, moments like this are bound to happen. You allow yourself to be pet. The heat, combined with the weight of his body, threatens to lull you off to sleep. The ache in your joints keeps you from doing so.
When he kisses you, you taste like a curse.
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Text
sunsets for somebody else
Daphne runs into her long lost husband arguing with another man in the grocery store. Things start to take a turn when she realizes they're married.
The bottle of bleach drops from Daphne’s hand into her cart, landing with a sloshing thud as she takes in the scene in front of her, frozen in her tracks. Emmanuel is standing right in front of her, arguing with another man about cleaning supplies.
Wearing a beige trench coat for some inexplicable reason—it’s almost 90 degrees outside—Emmanuel listens to a man who’s explaining in minute detail how to clean an oven. They’re both wearing wedding rings, and Daphne’s heart swells for a moment before she realizes it’s a different ring from the one she gave Emmanuel all those years ago.
“Dean, I don’t think this is safe for Jack. This is going to create noxious fumes,” Emmanuel says, squinting at the ingredients of the cleaner apparently-Dean had thrust at him.
Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, and Daphne squeezes the handle of her shopping cart harder, feeling faint. It’s not every day you come across your long lost husband at the Stop N’ Shop.
“I think the kid can take some fumes,” Dean says, plucking the bottle out of Emmanuel’s hands and putting it in the cart. “We wouldn’t even have to worry about this if someone didn’t let the pizza fall onto the bottom of the oven.”
“The directions said to put it directly on the middle rack!” Emmanuel protests, and Dean rubs a hand down Emmanuel’s back in a familiar way that makes Daphne’s stomach roil.
She’s not jealous, she’s not. She was just helping Emmanuel when she found him, after all. Their marriage was simply one of…convenience for Emmanuel. It’s not like he had a birth certificate with him, or a social security number. What did Daphne get out of all this? Well. Daphne looks at his cheek bones wistfully, her gaze dipping down to his strong forearms his trench coat is rolled up to reveal.
Dean rolls his eyes fondly, and then he tugs Emmanuel into his side, kissing him on the temple. Daphne jerks her stare away for a moment before returning it, noticing now that their wedding rings match.
“Emmanuel?” she chokes out, against her better judgment.
For a long second, she doesn’t think Emmanuel heard her, but he turns around. “Daphne?”
Daphne nods, her words forsaking her. She doesn’t miss the way Dean clutches possessively at Emmanuel’s hip.
“I…thought you were dead,” she finally says. “I filed a missing person report.”
Dean squints at her, before something like recognition passes over her face, and now that she thinks about it, Daphne recognizes him, too. He’s the one who showed up right before everything went to shit. Horror stories of Stockholm syndrome flash through her mind.
“Emmanuel, are you…happy?” she settles on.
Emmanuel gives her a smile, leaning harder into Dean. “I am.”
“Good. That’s. Good,” she says, a strangled look on her face, she’s sure. “Would you want to catch up some time?” she asks before she fully registers what’s coming out of her mouth.
Emmanuel gives her a warm smile. “I’d love that.”
As they set up a time to get coffee, Daphne tries to ignore the glare Dean levels at her throughout the whole conversation. He insists that their meeting be tomorrow, since apparently they won’t be in the area for long. Daphne tries to ignore the warning bells in her mind that tell her she’s about to get murdered and takes solace in the fact that at least they’re meeting in a public place.
Besides, even if Emmanuel’s husband is a serial killer, surely Emmanuel won’t let him murder her, right?
-
The next day, Daphne hems and haws as she debates what to wear. Whatever this is, it’s the exact opposite of a date, anyway. She knocks on the door of her foster child, Alex, to wake them up before she goes into the bathroom to do her hair and makeup. Really, she’s just doing it for herself. She’s allowed to want to look nice!
When she finally deems herself as ready as she’s going to get, she goes back to Alex’s room to make sure they’re actually up. To her pleasant surprise, they’re sitting on the edge of their bed putting on their socks and almost ready. “Excited for school today?” she asks.
Alex makes a face at her. “Never,” they say, but their voice at least has the edge of a smile to it.
They’ve come a long way since they were first placed with her, and even though Daphne knows she shouldn’t be getting overly attached, she can’t help it. She walks down the steps and into the kitchen, deliberating for a moment on breakfast before putting frozen waffles into the toaster. If she’s about to get murdered while Alex is at school, she can at least make sure the last thing she made for them wasn’t cereal.
Alex tromps down the steps, dragging their bookbag behind them, and Daphne hides her smile behind her glass of orange juice. Alex lights up at the sight of the waffles, disturbingly easy to please, as always. They inhale them, as teenagers do, before putting their dishes in the sink. Daphne cracks open her laptop as they wait for the bus, attempting to get some of her work done for the day since she’ll be taking a break later for the coffee. She really hopes her boss doesn’t try and call her while she’s out.
Or, maybe she does. She’s not sure she’s prepared for the level of awkwardness that she’s about to go through, but maybe it won’t be as bad as she thinks. She really wants to know what Emmanuel has been up to for all of this time. She’s still…embarrassingly hung up on him, and it would be nice to get some closure.
The bus pulling up in front of the house jerks her out of her thoughts, and she gives Alex a wave before they race off to get on. She watches them settle into a seat with one of their friends, and smiles at the fact that they even have friends now.
In the end, Daphne doesn’t manage to get much work done before she clambers into her car and drives to the coffee shop they agreed on. She doesn’t really think she needs caffeine with the way her leg is bouncing already.
Emmanuel and Dean are already there when she walks in, Emmanuel with a cup of black coffee he’s dumping sugar packets into and Dean with something with whipped cream and chocolate syrup drizzled on top. She gives them a tentative wave before ordering hot chocolate for herself, settling herself delicately in the seat across from them.
“So,” Dean says. “You were Cas’s wife?”
She squints. “Cas?”
Emmanuel speaks up. “After I regained my memories, I remembered that was my name.”
“Oh.” Smiling weakly, she tries to reconcile that. “You have them all back now?”
Emman—Cas nods.
“Just forgot about me, though?” she tries to ask lightly, but it comes out a little garbled.
“You took advantage of him!” Dean explodes from the other side of the table, making Daphne flinch. “Who the fuck finds someone naked with no memories and marries them?”
“Dean,” Cas chastises, his arm shifting like he’s putting his hand on Dean’s thigh under the table.
“I was helping him,” Daphne says hotly. “Would you have just wanted me to leave him there?”
Cutting Dean off before he can say anything else, Cas looks at Daphne and smiles in a way that makes her heart flutter. “I’m very grateful. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out to let you know I was alright.”
Dean crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, taking a sip of his sugar monstrosity. He comes away with a whipped cream mustache, and it’s hard not to laugh as he wipes it away in total seriousness.
“So,” Daphne says. “You two have a kid? Jack?”
Scowling, which seems to be Dean’s automatic reflex, he exchanges a glance with Cas before softening. “Yeah, we have a kid. He’s four.”
Daphne thinks maybe Dean should have been a little bit more concerned about the fumes of cleaning chemicals if they have a four year old, but she keeps her judgments to herself. Cas beams. “He’s very bright.”
Returning the smile tentatively, Daphne asks, “How long have you two been married?”
“It’s almost our one year anniversary,” Dean says gruffly.
Daphne tries not to let it affect her, even if that’s more time than she ever got with Cas. “Practically newly weds, then!”
“It’s been an adventure; that’s certain,” Cas says, smiling serenely even as Dean elbows his ribs. “Tell us about you, Daphne. What have you been doing?”
Daphne shrugs a shoulder. “Oh, not too much.” Mourning the man I pulled out of the woods and saved and married, she doesn’t say. She knows Emmanuel never felt the same way about her that she did him. “I got approved to be a foster parent, so I’ve had a few kids come through.”
“Helping people has always been your calling,” Cas says softly.
Daphne takes a few minutes to gush about Alex, and her previous kids before them, before she notices Dean’s not actively glaring at her anymore.
“That’s…nice,” he begrudges when she finishes.
“What do you do, Dean?”
Looking like he just dropped something on his foot, he stammers before he hastily says, “I work construction.”
Daphne squints at him. She has the feeling he’s lying to her, but she has no idea why he would be.
“And what about you, Cas?”
“Oh, I mostly just take care of Jack.”
“You’re a stay at home dad?” she asks, the thought making her stomach twist into knots and heat rise to her face.
“Of a sorts,” Cas agrees.
God, they’re making it impossible to carry on a conversation with them. Daphne keeps a smile pasted to her face. “What do you two do for fun?”
“I’m convinced Dean thinks fun is superfluous,” Cas confides, even as Dean splutters at him. “But I like to drag him to thrift stores with me. Dean likes to bake, also.”
“I work on cars, too,” Dean says, and Daphne can feel his desperation to maintain his facade.
She tries not to quirk a smile at his discomfort. They chat for a while longer, Dean getting increasingly dodgy about the questions she asks before she finally excuses herself to go to the bathroom. She shuts the door behind her and looks down at the dank floor. Is she getting what she wanted out of this? She has no idea what she even imagined happening when she asked to catch up. Emmanuel running away with her? Maybe in her wildest fantasies. Taking a deep breath to ground herself, she looks in the mirror and checks her makeup, rubbing at her under eye circles before walking back out of the bathroom.
Cas is at the counter ordering another drink, for Dean, by the sound of the sugar content, and she walks over to him. Hesitating before she bites the bullet, she asks, “You’re not…like, being held against your will, right? That Dean seems,” she pauses, “interesting.”
Cas laughs warmly, putting a hand over Daphne’s. “No, nothing like that. This is a choice of my own free will, believe it or not. Dean is much more caring than he lets on.”
Well, Daphne’s not sure she believes it, but. At least he’s happy, and in the end, that’s all she’s ever wanted for him.
228 notes · View notes
astaroth1357 · 3 years
Text
Demigod MC Series: Athena
So. I have to deal with the virgin goddesses… By mythos, there really shouldn't ever be children of Artemis, Hestia, or Athena (yes, Athena was a virgin goddess). PJ got past that by making it canon that Annabeth and her siblings were born from cracking open Athena's skull (yes, that's also more or less the canon explanation). They gloss over it real quick but I remember, Rick. I've always remembered and that mental image has haunted me for years...
I can't, in good conscience, ignore the history around Athena's worship (call it an academic restraint) but I REFUSE to do the skull thing. So, since I make the rules here, I'm going with magic adoption. They still get magic powers, they're just more human than demigod. Cool? Cool.
Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena
Lucifer
The human that popped out of the portal seemed to have enough sense not to attack everyone in the room for a change, but even Lucifer could tell that was more of a strategic choice than for lack of ability...
Their very existence was highly unusual… and quite worrisome. He wasn't even aware Athena could have "children" of her own, but apparently she had been taking in some particularly bright humans to raise and train like her own...
Unbeknownst to him, a surprising amount of human scholars, diplomats, and generals have her to thank for their trade… and that alone should speak to the level of intrigue at play here. 
Was this an accident or Athena's attempt to plant an Olympian spy in the Devildom too…? Either way, he didn't trust them from the get go…
Look, Lucifer isn’t stupid. Athena is a goddess of Wisdom and War and war happens on more than just the battlefield… 
Since they've shown up records have been going missing, official documents keep getting misplaced, and he swears that there's some kind of bug in the student council room...!
It's infuriating watching the MC suck up to Diavolo when he's almost certain that they're running their own agenda behind the scenes! And he can't prove any of it!! They cover their tracks too well!
Lucifer has one of those corkboards covered in newspapers and string in a secret wing of the Castle - 100% dedicated to just tracking the MC's activities…. The longer they're there, the more obsessed he becomes...
He swears between Simeon, Solomon, and MC he feels like a shepherd wondering why the sheep are growling… The Devildom has never been in more danger than it is right now... Send help.
Mammon
To be honest, he kind of thought that they were just going to be Satan 2.0 but that's not really true.
They're more than just a book sponge! Though they do read, like a lot. Let’s just say from one schemer to another… Game recognizes Game.
They come up with plans and ideas soooo fast, it’s insane! Honestly, there are times where he has a new money-making plot and he just brings it to the MC first to run it over. 
Nine times out of ten, not only do they sniff out any problems but they have a solution for him in a matter of minutes! His scheme game has been on point since they’ve shown up!!
They’re also even better tutoring than Satan is, so he’s even managed to get a couple A’s for the first time in his life! Lucifer actually told him he was proud (which he secretly recorded and now uses as a ringtone much to his brother’s regret...)
So yeah, he likes them... buuut that doesn’t keep him from thinking they act a little weird sometimes... 
Mammon: *points to a unused tower close to the RAD building* Over there is the Tower of Sorrow. We use it for storage.
MC: Ah. Interesting… *starts writing in a notebook, muttering* It may need a few minor tweaks but the location is defensible...
Mammon: *stops* Ya say somethin’?
MC: *looks back up* Nope! Say, you’ve been to the Castle a lot haven’t you? Do you know any good ways in?
Mammon: Uhm… Why do ya want to know that…? *starts looking around for Lucifer*
MC: In case of emergencies. I like being prepared. 🙂
Mammon: Look, I don’t know what Lucifer might’a told ya…
MC: I’ll pay you a thousand Grimm for it.
Mammon: Well shit, ya want those maps with or without color?
... Yeeeah, that’s pretty weird… But it’s probably fine. I mean, as long as they keep giving him money, who’s he to complain? 🤷‍♀️
Leviathan
Also thought that they’d be a lot more like Satan but was pleasantly surprised that they were into more than books.
What else did they like exactly? Military strategy!!
It’s been a looong time since he’s been able to talk to someone who’s actually interested in all the battles he’s fought, both in the Celestial Realm and the Devildom, and their curiosity is kind of flattering...! Not a lot of people take his strategic prowess all that seriously anymore...
Plus, they are the BEST partner to have any turn-based strategy game. Hands down. He once got stuck on a level of D-COM for weeks until the MC walked in and mopped the floor with the AI!! They have a serious head for probability and tactics.
The House once made the mistake of letting these two be on the same team during a Hell Game and they absolutely demolished the competition. Mammon didn’t even get a single shot off before half his team was lost to a rigged paint grenade… It took a whole day to clean up… 
However, Levi’s also noticed some odd things about the human… He likes that they’re interested in his past but maybe they’re a little… too interested?
Levi: -and that’s how we defeated the Four Horsemen before they escaped from Purgatory. 
MC: Wow, Levi that’s seriously impressive!! *furiously scribbling on a notebook*
Levi: Well t-thanks… 😅 But, uhm... are you writing that down…?
MC: Hm? Oh no, just doodling. *they lift up the notebook to show a bunch of cute little sketches on the page… and not the magic-based invisible ink all over them…*
Levi: Oh you draw too? Can you do fanart???
MC: Eh, sometimes. But say Levi, can you tell me about your naval ranks again? I’m still really curious… *gets the pen ready again with a smile*
Satan
Oh, it's been a long game of cat-and-mouse between these two… and unfortunately, it’s been pretty addicting too.
He honestly had every intention of tricking the human into making a huge mess do he could bother Lucifer, but at every turn they proved just a hair too clever for him...
He once gave them a cursed book to “lend” to Lucifer, but they saw through it the moment they touched it and lifted the spell before handing it over.
He rigged a podium to spray glitter during one of Lucifer's speeches but the MC disconnected the trigger mic before he even got on stage. It was pretty dang frustrating...
At one point he got so desperate that, just as a test, he tried to trap them in the House's Music Room. Fortunately for them, it only took a few minutes to work out an escape. They even passed by him in the hallway with a wink!
It's confounding! It's infuriating!! 
...and it's so damn sexy... He should be furious but he’s just in awe!!
Add on that they know their art, literature, and multiple different crafts thanks to the tutelage of their adopted mother and that’s it. He’s finished. This boy is in love.
Truthfully though, a part of him is 90% sure that they’re also gathering state secrets… Like, they’re watching Barbs and Diavolo far too close for comfort - but he just can't bring himself to care. 🤷‍♀️
The MC could walk into his room one day and say, "Hey, do you want to help overthrow the monarchy with me?" and he dreads it because deep down he knows that he wouldn’t say no…
Take some notes, kids. Some bad influences get you to drink or do drugs. Others pull you into a centuries long conspiracy to destabilize and topple rival realms from within… But he has fallen for their brain hard. Devil help them all…
Asmodeus 
They’re pretty clever, he’ll give them that, but uh… Are they a little off to anybody else?
Asmo is a charmer by birthright so he has a bit of nose for when someone’s just a liiittttle too nice… Not much of a nose mind you, because he can be thrown off by compliments himself, but enough to think that the MC might be a little too… “kind” for their own good...
First off, who wants to spend that much time with Levi?? They don’t even seem that interested in anime! They just keeping asking him for old war stories…
Then all the sucking up they do to Diavolo and Barbatos? Look, he gets it. Diavolo is a delicious piece of man-hunk and his butler could give him a lesson or two in sweet-talk (and he has), but they seem to be just a little too… nosy.
Of course, Asmo’s suspicions disappear pretty quickly after they start to spoil him with spa nights and beauty secrets they picked up from “casual research” into the subject.
And you know, get a little Demonus in Asmo and start massaging his back? Oh, sweetie he’ll sing like a bird!! … with gossip. Singing with gossip.
Asmo: So I’ve heard that Lucifer has been spending more time at RAD than usual… His whole club is talking about it, they think he’s meeting with some witch!
MC: Hm, is that so? *works on a knot near his shoulder blades* What do you think?
Asmo: Ooh~! Right there, MC! *purrs and lays his head on his arms* Well come on, this is Lucifer we’re talking about! I’m sure he’s just working.
Asmo: Hmm... though come to think of it, I think I heard him asking Barbatos for the spare keys to the Tower of Sorrow…
MC: Oh really? Huh. *works out the knot and gets up* I just remembered that I left some papers with Satan... I’ll be right back.
Asmo: You’re going already??
MC: *waves him off quickly* I’ll be right back, Asmo. *hurries out the door to do totally on-the-up-and-up things… surely*
Beelzebub 
Honestly he doesn't like this one… But not for the reasons you'd expect.
He agrees with everyone else that they seem a little shady, but Solomon and Simeon are too so it's not like that's anything new... 🤷‍♀️
No, no. He dislikes them because they're the person who FINALLY figured out how to keep him from eating all the food in the kitchen!!
Turns out that the trick was to put a teleportation charm on the fridge door that would send all the food away if it’s opened after a certain time of night… 
And where does it go? The Purgatory Hall fridge. And where does the Purgatory Hall food go…? The HoL fridge…
It doesn’t sound so bad until you remember that it means half of their fridge is now Solomon’s leftovers…. 🤢
After they put the same kind of spell on the pantry, it was all over… He couldn't get midnight snacks from the House anymore… Everything was contaminated by Solomon…
The MC is a nice enough person, he doesn’t have a lot of complaints about them, but he wants them to leave. Now. This is inexcusable… He’s so hungry… and he doesn’t want to die by “goulash” or whatever Solomon calls his latest culinary catastrophe… He’s still too young for death… 😓
Belphegor 
In a way, he absolutely could not have asked for a better person to help him get out of that attic.
… In another way, he got one of the worst possible people to try and kill... Like. They saw through his scheme sooo fast…
How was he supposed to know that the human had training in body language and sniffing out lies???
Getting the door open was a piece of cake for them. They knew enough magic to undo the seals and just rummaged around Lucifer's stuff long enough to find the key to the door. He could not have found a more competent individual for a break out, really.
It’s just… well he didn’t expect to go from locked in a room like a prisoner to tied up in enchanted rope, still like a prisoner but now mobile. 😑 
They even used his own hug ruse against him! They caught his wrists when they got close and tied him up before he could shake them off...
Admittedly, it wasn't exactly the best look for them either - what with walking Belphegor downstairs to the others like a one-man-prison-caravan but they're as silver-tongued as they are sly so they talked their way out of it beautifully… 
And like hell was he going to trust them after that!! And not even Beel liked them so something had to be up...
Well, you want a detective? Look no farther than Belphie (no seriously, it’s in the canon). He can put things together pretty fast when he puts his mind to it and watching the MC for a while gave him enough proof to work off of...
He always knew that, humans were bad news and the MC just proved it to him all over again. They are bad news, bad bad news and they’re going to-!
Overthrow… Diavolo…? Is that what he is getting from them…? Huh…
Wait a second, MC. You might just have him interested… 😏
1K notes · View notes
lavynrose · 3 years
Note
- a oneshot for artem wing when he finally mustered up courage to ask out their s/o to hang out as friends (theme parks or just garden strolls, you can pick which type of place you want i won't mind!) to confess to them and when he confesses their s/o confesses at the same time too? and the s/o is kinda shy and awkward with him so he gets surprised and all flustered with them confessing at the same time?
(ackk this has been stuck in my head for a while, sorry if there are any grammar mistakes since english isn't my first language! i hope u have a great day!! :D <3)
- coomkie anon ♡
Artem Wing and his s/o confessing at the same time pt. 1
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Title: Dedicated
Pairing/s: Artem Wing X Reader
Pronouns: Gender Neutral
Genre: Fluff
Warning/s: Grammatical errors probably
Notes: blushy artem is best artem, and we have celestine being the best wingwoman again
enjoy an amusement park date with Artem <3
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Artem Wing is a dedicated man.
If it had been any other person, they would be home right now.
but not him.
Even now, as the looming hours of the night began to tick, he sits at his swivel chair, busied with the love of his life called paperwork.
"Aren't you overworking yourself?" He looked up from his papers to see Celestine waltzing inside his office with documents in hand.
The question should've made him stop and think to at least consider getting rest, but no, we're talking about Artem the workaholic here.
He has heard Celestine's question directed at him for the past few days, and from different people at that.
"Overworking means I have more time to double-check these documents," Artem said as he reached out for the folder that Celestine brought over, "Don't you think it's pretty convenient?"
"Artem," She started with concern in her blue-green eyes, "I know you're trying to distract yourself."
Artem was silent for a few moments before coughing, "Whatever do you mean? There's nothing I have to distract myself from." He said with complete calmness in his voice that he could even fool himself.
"You don't have to hide it, you know? I see the way you look at them," She smiled as she recalled the lingering stares and soft smiles setting display into Artem's face when he's around his colleague "The way you act around Y/N." she added with a hint of teasing.
The mention of your name seemed to short-circuit Artem's brain, Celestine took advantage of this with delight.
"Also... They've been getting friendly and close with that new employee.." She puts her hands on her chin, thinking.
Earlier today, she caught Artem's looks of distraught while his eyes were on you and the new guy. You were having a friendly conversation.
Too friendly.
After that, The youngest senior attorney even requested you to work with him at his desk, claiming that he, quote "needs to keep close tabs on the files that Y/N is handling." end quote.
but Celestine knew better.
Jealous is the only word that can describe how Artem was acting. She decided she will push his buttons tonight.
"Aren't you... threatened?" She beamed at him, waiting for his reaction.
"..."
"They've been on your mind lately, I reckon."
"..."
"They're getting closer with each other, don't you think?"
"..."
Hopeless. Celestine thought.
To say that she's frustrated with this whole situation surrounding the two of you is an understatement. Everyone in your circle clearly sees it - you and Artem like each other.
In the way he bought cake for the whole office that one afternoon the day after an episode of an office drama aired, or in the way that he went out of his way to take care of you in the hospital when you overworked yourself to sickness, or in the way you blushed around each other, the lingering touches, oh the lingering touches. It was all obvious.
The both of you spend your time together more than anyone else, everyone thinks your blooming affections were inevitable at this point. Solving controversial cases meant having the mental and emotional intimacy to get to know each other better compared to your average professional relationship.
You don't see each other as "working partners" anymore, it's clear that you guys want each other as a different kind of partner.
It was known to everyone except for the two of you, apparantly.
Celestine sighed before rummaging through the magazine shelf in the office, grinning when she found what she's looking for.
Artem shot her a look of suspicion. He has a bad feeling about this.
"There." She said with satisfaction before dropping the magazine into his desk.
The magazine lays there, with an eye-catching font and colorful cover page, Artem blushes as his eyes read, 100 cute date ideas...
Judging from the cover, the magazine might actually be useful when giving date suggestions. Under the big font however, there was a smaller text that read, Your significant other is waiting!
What is this...
"I'm sorry but I have work to finish." He tried his best to unsee what he just saw, and decided to turn his focus on the headache of workload in front of him instead.
Celestine raised her eyebrows at him with a frown, "Don't be stubborn now, I'm your boss, I'm giving you both a day-off tomorrow. I mean, you haven't used your day-off at all ever since you started working here. So please. " Her voice is laced with concern.
He looked away with a sentimental look in his eyes, "You don't have to do this for me. I'm fine with... Giving them affection without them realizing it."
Celestine just frowns deeper.
"Come on now Artem, doesn't it sound tempting to you?" She clasped her hands and continued a little too excitedly like a schoolgirl in love, "Having alone time with Y/N, finally asking them out on the date so the other guys threatening your future can back off."
It does sound tempting, Artem admits.
He looked away with reddened cheeks, "I'll think about it."
He doesn't need to look at Celestine to know she's sporting a big grin right now.
Later that night on his bed, his mind keeps flashing images of you. You, wearing a big, warm smile on your face. You, with your little mannerisms that he came to memorize from hours of being with you. Every little thing, every moment, as long as it's with you, he cherishes it.
Oops. The butterflies are starting.
He didn't mind.
You looked stunning today, but then again, he finds you stunning everyday.
When was I this cheesy? He thought to himself.
His thoughts kept racing with reveries about you when a new image interrupted every nice thought.
It was of you and the new employee laughing together.
He frowned and his stomach churns.
"Are they interested in each other?" He finds himself asking the wind. His mind was reeling.
He thinks about the time when he first heard you say that you were married to your work. Surely, you aren't interested in being in a relationship with some guy, right?
Right?
Groaning, he then realized that he needs to make a move now before it's too late.
To him, you're the loveliest person he's ever met, your kindness, your welcoming smile, the passion that you present when you're in the court, the way you always remain headstrong no matter how many people clash with you and try to break your principles.
The only one that occupies his heart, you.
Artem is sure he won't regret giving you his feelings, and eventually, reveal them.
He got up from his bed and sent a glare at the magazine that is now resting on the lamp table beside his bed, mocking him. He picked it up with less hesitation than before.
'What should I choose?' Artem asked himself before flipping the pages, a faint blush adorning his cheeks.
This is a big step for him, and he wants to make sure that he's going to do it right.
7:00am
You rubbed your eyes and stretched your limbs as the sunlight permeated through your bedroom window, the yellow glow giving you a peaceful feeling, a new day is about to start.
A new day without work at that.
You had been ecstatic when Celestine called you to inform you last night of your long awaited day-off, you smiled at the memory as you stand up to brush your teeth.
"You deserve it for all your hardwork!" Even through the phone, you heard the smile in her voice.
Soon, your thoughts drifted to a certain raven-haired man.
'How about Artem? I'm his assistant, does he get a day-off too?' You wondered as you finished washing your mouth, finally heading off to the kitchen to prepare for breakfast.
You were about to choose what to eat from the fridge when you hear a song play from your phone in your room.
You hurriedly went back as you recognized that ringtone - that ringtone you had set for a particular contact.
There on the screen, displays the name of the object of your affections.
Mr. Wing.
'Why is he calling this early? What could he possibly need?' you thought to yourself before pressing the green button.
"Good morning Artem, what is it?" you didn't even try to hide the happiness from your voice, Artem calling you this early doesn't happen often, after all.
"Good morning. Do you have plans for today?" His morning voice echoed through your ears. It was husky and rough, filling all of your senses.
Realizing that he just woke up, you can't help but blush at the thought of being the first person to talk to him today.
He thought of you first thing in the morning!
You tried to control the lingering heat in your face as you replied, "Uhm, yes uhh- none. I have no plans for today, Artem. I'll be thinking of what to do though. Why did you ask? " You hoped he didn't mind the sttuttering mess presented to him this early in the morning.
You wondered if there's an emergency case needed to be taken care of, he rarely ever calls outside of work.
Then again, you're always at work.
"That's good," the other line was silent for a bit. As your anticipation for his reply grew, he finally said, "A new amusement park is going be opened today. I heard they'll be having a fireworks display tonight to celebrate the opening."
You've heard about the said amusement park from your coworkers yesterday, you even heard that it was a project from PAX.
Marius' wealth truly knows no bounds, you thought.
Kiki even invited you to come with her this sunday, as it's the only freetime the both of you had before Celestine's sudden news of a day-off.
Is Artem coming there today? He doesn't seem like the type to go to amusement parks, but now you know that he likes them, or at least he didn't mind going, you added this info to your list of things about Artem that make you fall in love with him more and more. Because let's be honest, what's there not to like about the man?
He's handsome, sweet, a good cook, a senior attorney you can look up to, and he always makes sure to reassure you that you're doing well, that he's proud of you.
He cleared his throat, breaking you out of your thoughts, "Do you want to go there..." He paused, his nerves getting the better of him, unbeknownst to you, "With me? I have two tickets, and I wanted to invite a close friend. Is that alright with you? "
What?
'Is he asking me out on a date!?' you were practically screaming internally as you paced frantically in your room.
No. No way. This isn't a date. Not until he says so.
He said 'close friend' so you shouldn't overthink this. You were partners, after all!
At least you try to convince yourself.
"Of course Artem. I'm glad you invited me, I'm really happy." You weren't lying, his invite was the most unexpected thing that happened to you this week.
He hummed, "I'm happy, too. I'll be there at 2:30pm to fetch you, they'll open around 3pm. " He said in a gentle voice before hanging up.
You pumped your fist in the air. You have plenty of time to prepare.
2:30pm
Among all of the outfits that you could've worn today, you decided to wear a cute, beige, knitted sweater. A pair of faded ripped jeans, white sneakers, and a beanie to top it all off.
The amusement park being your destination, you decided to wear casual clothing since you'd be hopping on rides left and right.
You wouldn't want to wear a skirt just for it to blow on the wind while you're in the air, screaming for dear life.
Nope. You definitely don't want that.
You're now waiting outside your apartment after Artem sent you a text 5 minutes ago that he's on his way.
Your head is plagued with expectations on how this friendly date is going to go. You've never felt as giddy as this before.
It's understandable, right? The person you like asked you out to go with him to an amusement park - using his morning voice, nonetheless, so it wouldn't be strange for you to think that this is like an actual date.
You bonked yourself mentally.
You keep reminding yourself that it's just a friendly date. It's just a friendly date. You believe in the power of your mind, it's a friendly date. He even said so himself.
Artem's going to think you're weird. It's not like you're going to hold hands or anything...
Yet, you didn't even try to stop the daydream clouding your mind.
While you were busy indulging yourself in your fantasies, your eyes caught a familiar spot of black in the parking lot. Artem's car!
That's your cue. When his car stopped, you made your way over to him with a small smile on your face.
His black car opened, spilling out Artem clad in his casual clothing.
You scanned his appearance, taking in those breath-taking, familiar eyes. Taking in the beige, knitted sweater he's wearing, paired with slacks and black shoes.
Wait.
You did a double take- beige, knitted sweater?
You looked at his clothes, then looked down at your own, then back at his again.
Red and warmth crept up to your cheeks as realization hits you.
You kind of looked like a couple.
"What's wrong?" Artem inquired with concern as he stepped closer and reached out his hands to your flustered form.
He even placed his hand on your forehead to check your temperature.
Yes, you think you have a fever.
It's only when he got to take a good look at you when realization hits him the way it hit you.
He retreated his hand and looked away, face as warm as yours.
"Uhh..."
"..."
Why are you acting like a highschooler!? You're better than this, getting flustered just because you wore identical clothes.
With the person you like, you added.
The both of you stayed silent for a few seconds before you spoke up with a grin, thankful that the pink that dusted your cheeks is now cooling down a bit, "We should get going now."
You expected the ride to be as awkward as earlier, but to your relief, that wasn't the case at all.
Artem played the radio on your drive to the amusement park, and even asked you about how you're feeling lately and whatnot.
Honestly, with how he's always so concerned about your well-being, you're doomed to fall even harder.
"What are your favorite rides, Artem?" You decided to talk about something connected to where you're going to go.
"Hmm," as he hummed, you looked in front of the car to see the gates of the amusement park came into view. You can even see the familiar structure of a rollercoaster and a really grand ferris wheel turning slowly.
Majestic.
Is the motif for this amusement park golden!? The railings are shimmering with gold, some parts of the rides are adorned with gold, wherever you look, gold!
PAX outdid themselves with this one, definitely took "shining, shimmering, splendid" to a whole new level. Too much for the word grandeur, you think.
You can't even imagine how wide the place must be. You haven't even stepped foot inside, yet your eyes were oogling as some more rides were seen from outside the gates.
"We're here Artem! Look!" From your side, Artem turns to take a look from the road to the park, his eyes screaming nothing but amusement.
"It's beautiful," He breathed while you nodded furiously with agreement. He shot you a look, "I'm glad I get to spend my first time here with you." The softness is his eyes is blinding as you stared at him and processed his words.
"Me too..." you managed to choke out, turning away to hide your blush.
While you were taming your flushed cheeks, Artem had parked the car already.
He opened the doors for the both of you as he offered you his arm. Confusion takes over your features.
"So you wouldn't get lost, it's a big crowd out here, " He tilted his head to have a better look at your still sitting form inside the car, "Let's go?" He said with that gentle smile, as comforting as ever.
You stood up and linked your arm with his and suggested, "How about the bumpy car first?" excitement was evident in your voice.
He shook his head and chuckled, "Whatever you wish." He said as he locked the car doors with a click. You both headed to check in and do the formalities first. After all that, with a skip to your step, you pulled Artem to the bumpy car's ticket booth, and went inside.
You're elated.
"I can't believe the Artem Wing, the youngest senior attorney, is losing to me!" You sound hysterical as you bumped Artem's car with yours over and over, your bumpy car dominating his.
This is fun! Just minutes earlier, the atmosphere between you and Artem seemed a little tight because of the matching clothing incident. Just a little. However, the laughter of everyone playing in this space is infectious, it leaves you in a really good and playful mood.
It makes you feel like you were a kid again. You hope Artem feels the same.
Before playing, you made a bet with him earlier that whoever bumps the other the most, wins.
"Y/N. I think this car is defective." He said with a frown, his eyebrows furrowing as his hands tinker whatever there was in the steering wheel.
You looked over to him and replied, "We can switch cars, let me see." The two of you switched from each other's bumpy ride and you assessed the supposedly 'broken' car.
You realized he didn't push the right buttons to ride the bumper properly.
"Artem..." You looked at him blankly and said, "Have you ever been to bumpy cars before?"
He was silent before replying with darting eyes, "No, I haven't," He cleared his throat, "I have only been to the ferris wheel and escape rooms, I haven't been to bumpy rides before. Sorry."
You beamed at him.
"Don't be sorry!" You flail your arms to disagree, "There's nothing wrong with that. I'm actually happy that you allowed me to drag you here despite you not having played it before." You flashed him a thankful smile.
He looked a little surprised at first, but then that warm smile of his came back, "Thank you." You stared at each other's eyes for a few beats in time, his ocean eyes containing a sparkle you rarely see them hold. It looks so gentle, so welcoming.
So fond.
You stared at each other for a while, his deep eyes were enough to drown out the crowd. To drown out everything that existed but him.
Blinking, you snapped out of it to teach him how to drive the car.
The cars were booster types, different from the old models wherein you just turn the wheels and you'll be good. In this specific model, commands are needed to be performed in order for the car to execute it's special feature.
"You turn it like this..." Artem is a fast-learner, so the both you were back on track as soon as you guided him the directions.
In the end, you were tied, the bumper time limit resulting the draw.
"I'm definitely beating you next time!" you declared with a smug look, hands on your waist.
After the bumper, a receptionist from what seemed like a family raft ride made his way to invite the two of you.
"You guys look like you're having fun!" He then pointed at the paper he's holding and said with persuasion, "You're going to have even more fun here! The family raft ride is the only free ride we're offering in the park for it's first day, be sure not to miss out on this special bonus!" He then turned his heel to find more costumers.
You blinked, "Too bad we don't have extra clothes..." You hung your head low and you sighed as your mind thinks of a different ride to enjoy.
"Well, he did say it's a special bonus," Artem pondered, "They sell clothes here anyway, and there are restrooms we can change on," you wondered if this is going the way you think it's going, "I can see no harm in trying this free ride." He finished with the corners of his lips turned upwards.
Your eyes sparkled with so much joy that he's glad he suggested this.
"Then what are we waiting for!?" You squeal and jump from where you stand and Artem could only shake his head at you with an adoring look in his ocean eyes.
You both headed to the line of people waiting to get their tickets for the raft.
"That's a long line..." You're already mentally tired as you stared at the single file of people in front of you.
"There's still plenty of time before the fireworks at 7pm, I can go and buy us ice cream. Do you want some? "
You're face fell, remembering you were on a diet, "I appreciate the offer, but no thanks, I'm on a diet." An ice cream sounds really tempting right now, but you must resist.
"I heard they sell low-fat ice cream in here. How about that?" He proposed as his eyes glinted with satisfaction.
He knew this would do you in, sure enough, you gave him the biggest grin you could muster.
"You're the best, Artem! Any flavor is fine, by the way. " You beamed as he turned his heel to the ice cream stall, you just stared at his back the whole time he was away.
A minute later, the man wearing a cozy beige sweater that matches yours turned around and went over to you, two chocolate chip ice cream in hand. You reached out to take your ice cream, your fingers brushing.
You ignored the tingling feeling and the chills. He looked away.
While eating, you talked about how the line for the rollercoaster was two times longer than the raft's even though it's literally free.
"I believe they added a new feature to the coaster." Artem reasoned.
"You bet. The rides' golden theme is already impressive enough," You eyed the unbelievably long line from the coaster's ticket booth, "We can go back here some time to see that feature for ourselves." your face heated as you realized the implications in your words.
His eyes widened for a single moment and then looked at you with such intensity you can't bring yourself to look away, "I'd love that." a gentle look worms it's way in his features once again.
Comfortable silence dawns on your own, little world while you both busied yourselves in your ice cream.
The two of you were thrilled as it was your turn to ride the raft, ice cream long gone, replaced by the life-vest in your hands.
"Ah," you sighed, fumbling with the vest a little longer than you should have.
Artem, of course, noticed your movements. He was kind enough to help you adjust the vest.
Of course.
"Come here." He said as his arms finds it's way to your waist, pulling you towards his stature. His hot breath hitting your face while he circled his arms around you to wrap the vest securely.
This is not good for your heart...
He's so close, you could kiss him if you wanted...
He pulled away, his warmth lingering still.
Even when the both of you sat down on the raft. The ride is going to start in a few and here you are, lost in the feeling of Artem being near you.
"Y/N," You abruptly turned your head to him when he suddenly called you, "are you nervous?"
You blushed so hard you wanted to evaporate with the water, 'Yes. You make me nervous.' you're tempted to respond.
"Yes, but don't worry about me." was your reply instead, and you smiled awkwardly and stared at his blue eyes, blue eyes laced with concern.
He leaned closer, probably so that the other people within your raft wouldn't hear, "I care about you and I want you to feel as comfortable as possible," he whispered in your ear, sending chills to your spine.
This is definitely not comfortable, Mr. Wing.
Your heart is doing flips, this isn't normal!
"Please tell me if you need something." The gentleness in his voice took your breath away the way it did as the first time.
The fact that he's unaware of his effect on you angered you so much. You scanned his face for signs of teasing. Smirk, maybe a playful glint, anything.
Yet you found none.
The raft began to move, a perfect timing to change the subject!
You leaned on him, but not too close, and whispered, "It's starting."
Water began to splash, as the raft moved with the current.
The track was smooth at first, you getting small splashes here and there.
Until a bumpy track decided to present itself.
Like before, the raft went with the flow of the water, except that it bounced and rotated harshly that one particular splash of water was enough to wet you and your clothes completely.
"OH MY G-" you exclaimed when the raft hit a rough spot again, soaking everyone wet.
You were making a surprised pikachu face as the water seeped into your clothes.
You turned to look at Artem to see his state and you suppressed a giggle with how he's making the same face as you did earlier.
Never in your life you thought you'd see Artem with the surprised pikachu face.
You took pride in knowing that you're one of the very few people who gets to see this side of him.
"Artem!" you shouted through the noisy stream of water. "We look silly!" you laughed as the water rocked everyone in the raft as harsh as it possibly can. Round and round, back and forth.
"We do!" his laughed mingled with yours even when the water relentlessly kept soaking your already wet bodies.
You smiled once again, gazing at his form with profound fondness longer than just a friend would've done.
6:00pm
"That was really fun!" You shouted to the air while Artem scooted beside you, offering his arm like he did earlier, which you eagerly took.
The both of you went for another round on the raft after the first round, not caring about the long waiting line. The ride was worth it!
All you ever did was scream and laugh at each other's state, but it was the most enjoyment you've ever had in years.
You were completely dry now, changed into fresh clothes that were sold as the park's merchandise.
Even with the change of clothes, the clothes you were wearing right now still matched Artem's.
You weren't complaining.
The crowd continues to enjoy themselves, all while the sunset was making everything in the theme park look like a fairytale.
"Yes, it was. I enjoyed it very much." Artem flashed a smile so genuine, you wanted to see this sight a thousand times more. The orange glow of the sunset gives his raven hair a golden shade, light reflecting on his blue eyes, making him look so bewitching. So you carved it to your memory, not knowing how to elicit that same image from him once again.
Looking up at him, and looking back at the things that happened today, you realized something.
You couldn't take this silent pining anymore, you wanted to tell him how precious his smile is to you, to tell him you're glad he's spending his time with you, to tell him to make more memories with you.
To tell him he's the reason of the warmth flooding your whole being right now.
'I'm in love with you' is what you first thought of saying. No matter how cliche that may be, you wanted to let him know, that you're in love with him.
"Uhh, Artem, I-" You were about to spill your feelings then and there when a voice boomed the speakers of the park.
"Everyone! One hour more to go for the fireworks! Please look forward to it!"
Your confession's gonna have to wait for later.
part 2 here
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do not repost © lavynrose 08/15/21.
325 notes · View notes
hermannsthumb · 3 years
Note
I have a fun prompt I've been thinking about I hope you have time for one day! When Newt and Hermann meet actually things go really really well and they even get together. It's just they bicker so much and have huge science-based arguments that everyone assumed they must have hated each other on sight.
sure thing! i had fun with this one
----
"So," Newt says. "I was talking to Tendo today."
Across the mess table, Hermann hums in feigned interest. Newt knows it's feigned 'cause Hermann doesn't stop either thing he's doing: using his left hand to wind noodles around a fork, and using his right hand to scribble away a series of lengthy equations on the back of a paper napkin. His full attention has been hopping between both for about ten minutes now—no room for Newt to slip in there. He's testing his limits enough as it. Half of the last equation ended up scratched into the tabletop, and the last time he lifted his fork to his mouth, it was empty. And then he swallowed anyway. Newt kinda loves the guy.
"Yeah," Newt says, deciding to continue like Hermann responded the way he was actually supposed to respond, which would've been something along the lines of what an utterly fascinating story, Newton, do tell me more. I love hearing you talk, Newton. How marvelously smart you are, Newton, and how melodic and breathtaking your voice is. Now watch me bite down on an empty fork again. "Kinda funny. He was asking how we met."
Hermann finally looks up at Newt suspiciously over the rims of his glasses, which are slipping slowly down his nose. He stills them with the tip of his index finger before they land in his dinner. "Why?"
"I don't know, man," Newt says. "He just was. It was like, small talk, you wouldn't get it. He dropped by the lab when you were out this morning to let me know that there was extra space if we wanted it. Like, lab space." Hermann resumes scratching an equation into the table absently. Newt rolls his eyes. "As in, we could have separate labs if we wanted now."
Hermann knits his eyebrows together. "Separate laboratories?"
When Newt and Hermann first started at the Hong Kong Shatterdome, the k-scientist team was pre-existing and significantly bigger, and anyone who joined on later—like, you know, them—basically got shoved in wherever they fit. For Newt and Hermann, that happened to be Laboratory Space D, Basement Level 1 (the only basement level), along with a former marine biologist who was killed on a research excursion a month later when a kaiju made unexpected landfall, like, right on top of their chosen shelter. Bad luck. Anyway, Newt's known about the existence of other Hong Kong Shatterdome lab spaces in the vague and absent sort of way that you would an urban legend, but (similarly so) he never thought he and Hermann would actually ever lay eyes on one. And then Tendo stopped by to dangle it in front of Newt on a stick.
"The other labs were being used as storage for ages after everyone else—" Newt searches for a word tasteful enough to encapsulate got stomped by a kaiju and wised up and decided to live out what are probably our last few days before the world ends with their families instead of alone in a military bunker. "—left. Anyway, Tendo told me they've been going through shit like crazy this month, I think to see if they can salvage any old tech, and that the other labs are basically totally emptied out now. We just have to ask and they're ours."
Hermann sets down both his pen and fork, twisting his mouth contemplatively. He finally loses the battle against gravity with his glasses, and they miss his plate by an inch, swinging back on their chain and bouncing harmlessly against his chest instead. Newt briefly wonders if getting a chain for his own glasses would save them from their frequent fatal falls into kaiju organ cavities and buckets of non-neutralized kaiju blood, but decides not even the money he'd save on replacement pairs would make a fashion faux pas like that worth it. "You know I don't much fancy the basement," Hermann says.
"Your joints," Newt agrees. The damp of the basement sets Hermann's joint pain off frequently, something Hermann talks about just as frequently. Newt's not really a fan of the basement either, though for different reasons—he would kill to get some windows and natural, non-fluorescent light in there. Sun lamps can only do so much. He's pretty sure he'd fucking glow if he stepped outside right now. Also, it's cold down here.
"And it might be nice to be closer to LOCCENT, in case of an emergency," Hermann continues. "And closer to—oh, hang on. What has this got to do with us?"
"Huh?"
"How we met," Hermann says. "You said, that Tendo asked—"
"Oh," Newt says. It's his turn to play coy. He stirs his chopsticks through his own dinner, accidentally flicking a piece of tofu to the table. It lands on top of Hermann's etched equations. Hermann scowls, because that's how their routine goes: Newt gets Hermann's stuff dirty, and Hermann gets mad. "Well. It was just that Tendo was like you can finally be out of each other's hair, how the hell did you guys get stuck together anyway when you obviously can't stand each other, that kind of stuff."
"Ah," Hermann says.
"And I said that it was because we knew each other before," Newt says, "and that we transferred here together. And that's when he asked."
"And what did you say?" Hermann says.
"That we used to correspond professionally," Newt says, "and met at a conference way back in 2017." He adds, with a grin, "Also professionally."
This was technically true. Newt and Hermann did write to each other, professionally, and they did meet at a conference, professionally, but what went down after a long and public shouting match in the events hall of a very nice hotel—in Hermann's room, five floors up in that very nice hotel—was not very professional. The events of the week that followed—spent, intermittently, between Hermann's hotel room, several coffee shops, a bench under a tree in Newt's favorite park, a rotation sushi restaurant, brushing knees shyly on the tram, and, finally, clasping hands on the staircase of Newt's apartment and gazing deeply into each other's eyes—weren't very professional, either, but Newt likes to think that they were very romantic. Rom-com level shit. Newt revealed none of this to Tendo, who referred to the 2017 conference as that Infamous Day for the rest of their conversation. "Well, it was professional," Hermann sniffs.
But he reaches across the table, and, very timidly, crosses his pinkie over top of Newt's. It's the most blatant form of PDA Hermann ever willingly engages Newt in. Newt thinks if he ever tried to touch two fingers at once in anywhere but the lab, or God forbid, hold his whole hand, Hermann's ears might start emitting steam like something out of a cartoon. "It might be nice," he says again.
Laboratory Space D, Basement Level 1, is unique—Newt knows—in that Newt and Hermann's quarters are connected to it directly. None of the other labs have that luxury (and Newt has a feeling it's because Lab Space D wasn't actually intended as a lab space). He remembers being told that when they were shoved into it. Yeah, you have the darkest and tiniest lab space on base, but your rooms are right there! When Newt wants to go to Hermann's room, or if he's in Hermann's room and needs a sweatshirt or something from his own, he just has to step the three feet between their two doors. Moving labs could throw a wrench in that—they might be asked to move quarters, too, and might be shuttled to opposite sides of the Shatterdome, and though they could just bite the bullet and request couple's quarters already, it's nice to have their own spaces when they need it. That would never work. And, well, besides—the lab, their lab, feels like home to them at this point. Newt shrugs.
"On the other hand," Hermann says, and he taps Newt's pinkie lightly, "I quite like how things are. I can live with the damp, really."
"We can get a dehumidifier," Newt offers.
Hermann nods, and he gives Newt the barest hint of a smile.
Their monthly delivery of lab supplies—whatever they can afford with their shoestring budget, which, these days, mostly means chalk, rubber gloves, and nice instant ramen—comes three weeks later. Newt wouldn't exactly call the Shatterdome delivery guy a friend, seeing as he has yet to divulge his name to Newt (and also Newt's pretty sure he has a thing for Hermann, since he always seems to wait until Hermann is in the lab to stroll by with his package trolley and always calls him Dr. Gottlieb with big stupid heart eyes, oh, Dr. Gottlieb, that new sweater looks soooo nice on you!, so anyway, that makes him Newt's rival by default), but he, at least, recognizes and acknowledges Newt at this point. That's more than Newt can say for most people on the base. After his usual greeting to the two of them (hey, Newt, oh, hellllooo, Dr. Gottlieb, did you do something new with your hair?), he starts to unload their packages, also like usual.
"I was surprised to see that you guys are still down here," he tells Newt, not like usual. "Tendo mentioned something about you getting your own labs."
"He did?" Newt says, meaning to frown, but grinning instead. It's kind of fun to be the subject of gossip. He pulls off his gloves and tosses them in the trash to help with their supplies—the dehumidifier he requested should be in there, and it's fancy and definitely on the bigger side.
"Yeah," their delivery guy continues. He hands Newt a fuckin' massive brick of a package. Hermann's stupid chalk. The amount that Hermann tears through in a month really is astounding: Newt has a private theory that Hermann is an undercover space alien from a planet where chalk constitutes all of the primary food groups, and he secretly sneaks out here and eats it in the dead of night when Newt is asleep. "Anyway, sorry I'm late," the delivery guy says, as Newt imagines Hermann crunching on a piece of chalk like a carrot stick, "I went to all the other labs first."
"No worries, dude," Newt says. "Sorry for the confusion."
He lugs the package over to Hermann's desk, and drops it down on the only spot not over-cluttered with papers and books. Hermann complains about Newt's messiness a lot for a guy who is just as bad, if not worse. "Need any now?" Newt asks Hermann.
Hermann, scribbling away at his chalkboard, grunts. Newt decides that's a no.
"Hard at work, Dr. Gottlieb?" the delivery guy says, practically fluttering his eyelashes.
Another grunt. Newt snorts.
"I thought you guys would've moved right away," the delivery guy (obviously disappointed at Hermann's lack of attention) tells Newt. "Tendo mentioned you've been stuck together for a while, ever since some sort of dramatic confrontation at a conference ten years ago." he adds eagerly, "Did you really get thrown out? I don't know how you haven't killed each other yet."
"It's taken a lot of hard work," Newt says. Yeah, the whole being-ejected-from-the-conference-and-barred-from-all-future-ones-forever thing is technically true too, but everyone there was too stuffy and serious for Newt's fun vibes anyway, so he thinks it's their loss. The most important part of the scientific breakthrough process, Newt frequently thinks, was having someone there to challenge you and push back at you. Sometimes loudly. And in public. In the conference hall of a very expensive hotel, in front of all of your scientific peers, some hotel security guards, and a poor graduate student who made the mistake of asking you and your penpal-colleague for your joint opinion on something and got caught in the crosshairs. Besides—out of everyone at that stupid conference, Newt and Hermann were the only ones snapped up by the PPDC, so it's doubly their loss. "And, yeah, we got thrown out. Me and Hermann fight a lot, but we always make up eventually. It's no big deal. It's, like, our thing."
"Make up?"
Newt waggles his eyebrows and doesn't elaborate. The making up part is the best part of arguing with Hermann, honestly, but he's not about to go giving private details about stuff like that to his rival.
By the time Hermann finally descends his ladder, three hours have passed, and Newt is frowning over an email he's just gotten from Shatterdome HR. Hermann will probably see it in a second when he checks his own email—it was sent to both of them, after all—but Newt waves him over to his desk anyway. "Look," he says.
He draws out the spare chair he keeps by his desk (for Hermann), and Hermann drops into it gratefully, propping his cane up against the arm. Then Hermann pushes his glasses up onto his nose and scans the email with a frown of his own. Newt reads it aloud for him anyway. "'Subject: Quarters Reassignment,'" he says. "Dear Drs. Geiszler and Gottlieb: It has recently come to our attention that you will be transferring to Laboratories A&B. Should you wish to transfer quarters as well, you will find the necessary paperwork..."
"By Jove," Hermann groans, and pulls his glasses off again, smudging a bit of chalk on his cheek, "can't they just leave us alone?"
Newt laughs. "I'll tell them we're not interested. Wait, listen to this bit at the end: Congratulations—this must be a relief! Guess they were getting your complaint forms after all, Hermann." Both Newt and Hermann had long-since assumed that any and all official complaint forms stamped with a k-sci lab return address are filed right into the garbage. It's never deterred Hermann from sending them in, though.
"Hmph," Hermann says.
Newt carefully rolls his shirtcuff back down to his wrist and uses it to rub off Hermann's chalk smudge. When it's gone, or at least, mostly gone, he brushes his fingers back through Hermann's short hair. Hermann's eyelids flutter shut, and as he leans into Newt's touch, his creased forehead smooths just a little. "Mm. You're lovely," he murmurs. "We really ought to tell them we're married. It's gone on long enough."
"I guess," Newt says. "But it's kind of funny, isn't it?"
183 notes · View notes
jade-parcels · 3 years
Text
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The bunnies’ other jobs!
From my bunny cafe au
((I am so peeved :((( I had this all written out!! And I deleted it by accident!! Darnnnnn!!!))
Anon asked “You mentioned that some of the bunnies have day jobs so do they all have jobs outside the cafe or just a few?” (Something along these lines…again…I deleted it by accident 😔)
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Diluc/‘Angel’
After his father got bored with the wine industry, he passed the whole company off to Diluc on his 18th birthday in order to shift his focus to mining. Diluc found himself swamped with all kinds of business decisions while just barely being an adult. He expanded the company and hired some very trustworthy people to handle things for him so he could finish college
When the business was given to him, Diluc and Kaeya had an explosive fight over it. Kaeya felt like he deserved to have some say in what happens to the business, he’s still a part of the family! But Diluc refused to let him in on any decisions so Kaeya packed his bags and left (not before cussing him out in front of their father, staff and business partners). He was just in a silly, goofy mood. They’re fine now, not on the best terms but they do chat and meet up for lunch on occasion.
He is filthy rich, he couldn’t spend all of his all of his money if he tried, so he doesn’t really need the job at the cafe! Kaeya got him the job because he knew his brother was stuck in a weird, antisocial funk and needed some fun in his life
Diluc loves this job, he has a great time, but it isn’t his main job. His priority will always be the family business!! If he has to quit his job at the cafe, he would in a heartbeat
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Kaeya
Kaeya was going to go into the police academy but was scouted out by a modeling agency. They had seen him at Ragnvindr company events and thought ‘well damn’ so they gave him a pretty generous deal
Kaeya makes a good living off of modeling, the tips and paycheck from the cafe. He rakes in cash pretty quickly just cause he knows how to get it. That, and his dad sends him checks every other month as well. Kaeya thinks of it as ‘I’m sorry’ money. He isn’t wrong
He doesn’t travel much for modeling, which he doesn’t mind, so he kinda just hangs around the city with a lot of free time on his hands between photo shoots. That’s why he got this job at the cafe! It gives him something to do and it’s fun as hell ;)
Albedo
Bedo is one busy bunny. He finished college early and is getting his masters degree online. He works most days at the cafe and on the weekends, he tutors other college students in bio/chem/science related subjects
(He was actually Xiao’s tutor back when he was failing chemistry!! Xiao is very thankful for Albedo’s help!!)
His dream is to become a biochemist, he’s always been interested in cells and what makes up living beings. So having a career in that field would make him the happiest man alive
His mother and sister live outside the city in a more rural area so he spends a lot of time FaceTiming the two of them! Klee is always so excited to hear about Albedo’s experiments or the people he’s met while working in such a bustling, fun city :)
Zhongli
Zhongli is a simple man! He’s a bunny waiter and an artist
He creates intricate pieces based on folklore from different cultures, focusing mostly on dragons. His favorite medium is paint, he loves painting on glass and layering the panes in order to create a 3D piece
He sells his works to galleries, shops and anyone who wants them! As long as they appreciate the story behind the artwork. Sadly…He undersells his work. He could def be making more money but he just does not desire money or material goods the way others may
So he got his job at the cafe in order to help out his dear friend Ningguang, not for money, he only planned on working there for a month or two until she got more bunnies but…he ended up really loving the people he works with :’) he looks forward to working with them now and texts/calls them outside of work to meet up for lunch or bowling (such an old man thing to do omfg)
Dainsleif/‘Sweetie’
Dain was a bouncer at another bar before leaving to come to Celestia’s! He’s good friends with Beidou, they belong to the same motorcycle club so when she was talking to him about the lack of security at the cafe/bar, he stepped in to help out
Little did he know…he’d actually become a bunny…And like it
This is his full time job now, he doesn’t have another for the time being. While he is a bunny at the cafe, he still keeps an eye out for any threats to his coworkers and has access to the offices upstairs (Ningguang’s office and the security office)
When he isn’t waiting tables, he’s upstairs in a tank top and sweatpants keeping an eye on the security cameras and talking to the other security guards through their ear pieces
Ajax
Ajax is a student who doesn’t really have much time on his hands
He mows lawns in the summer and he’s quit his job as a cashier to come work at the cafe! He mostly works night shifts his cause he’s still going to school aaaaaand he’s on his college’s swim team! He’s about to graduate so he works close with his coach to help train the others on the team
He doesn’t really want his family knowing that he skips around in a skimpy bunny outfit and fucking customers most nights but I mean…They’re bound to find out if they see him in pictures people post
Xiao/‘Tofu’
Xiao is an art student!! He wants to be a tattoo artist :)
He’s already got one sleeve of tattoos, it’s unfinished but you can’t really tell just by looking. When he isn’t at the cafe, he’s either in class or shadowing Ganyu, his best friend and tattoo artist. Their art styles greatly differ, she focuses her craft on cutesy, colored tattoos, but she is skilled. And Xiao looks up to her
Xiao admires Zhongli too, they met at the cafe and when Zhongli found out Xiao wants to be a tattoo artist he told him that once he’s licensed, he wants to get a tattoo from him :’)
Baizhu/‘Honey’
Baizhu is a (mostly) full time pharmacist, hence why he isn’t usually at the cafe
He also has a niece, Qiqi, who he babysits often. He loves her very much so he has no problem watching her! Baizhu will even bring her to the pharmacy with him when he’s swamped with work. In the break room, he has a play kitchen, coloring books and a bunch of puzzles to keep Qiqi occupied while he works :)
When he’s not at work, he’s at home resting. He has chronic pain flare ups in his back and shoulders that can make life miserable :( he has plenty of good days that outweigh the bad! And as a pharmacist, he has access to any medicine he needs to make his life easier!
Dottore(Alain)/‘Doc’
Alain’s an oral surgeon who’s a little bit….too into his job
He isn’t phased by blood or gore so he’s easily able to conduct procedures that would make other squeamish. He’ll pull teeth, put in dental implants, remove rotten tissue, any of that without even flinching
Outside of that, he works at the cafe. He wears a mask in order to avoid being recognized even though at his job as a surgeon, he’s usually wearing a medical mask anyways. It’s just a precaution
This has nothing to do with his career but he used to be a tap dancer and actor so he’d join in on local theatre shows! He helped build sets when he wasn’t rehearsing. He doesn’t have time for that anymore (which kinda makes him sadddd) but he has all kinds of theatre playlists on his phone and in his car that he’ll sing along to
Scaramouche/‘Boss’
Scara’s job at the cafe is his main job! His side job is something you may not expect from such a grump
He works at an animal shelter! In fact, he brings cats home to train so they have an increased chance of being adopted. Someone is more likely to adopt a potty trained, socialized cat than a feral cat who doesn’t know what a litter box is. So Scara brings them to his apartment for some one-on-one socializing, training and cuddling
One time he offhandedly mentioned working at an animal shelter while he was working at the cafe and sure enough, three separate customers from the cafe came by to adopt!!! Only one actually took an animal home but he was still surprised that those people had listened to him and cared enough to come by
Scara is a jerk most of the time but when he’s at home…by himself…With a lil kitten sleeping in his lap while he plays games on his PC…Yeah, he softens up a bit
So as you can see, we have a very diverse group working at the cafe! They’ve all learned a lot from each other, come to appreciate each other’s friendship and come to help each other out when one of their coworkers is in need or upset.
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lubdubsworld · 3 years
Text
Blackberry Winters.
PART 1 🌸 PART 2
Namjoon Werewolf Au!! 
Pack Head Alpha Namjoon and mate OC!
Arranged marriage sort of?
Pack dynamics / strangers to lovers. 
Part 3
“You did not think to tell him no? To demand that you had every right to stay there?” Her mother in law looked disappointed ,  eyes trained on her as Jiah carefully pulled the blouse of the tunic down over her tummy, frowning when she realized that it didn’t do a thing for her figure.
She felt self conscious, the grey cotton of the tunic making her feel drab and lifeless. Why did she always choose clothes in colors like this? Why did none of them fit her right? Why did she never make an effort to look at least a little good. Her hair was limp, a mousy brown and while it was thick, it had no luster… Why didn’t she use one of the hundred powdered mixtures the village healer liked to give the younger women?
“Jiah, are you listening to me?” Namjoon’s mother said sharply and Jiah jumped a bit, guilty.
“I didn’t want to be a bother..”  She said nervously, not sure how to handle her mother in law. On the one hand she seemed to be understanding of her many hang ups, but she also looked impatient and upset, anytime Jiah failed to stand up for herself.
Lady Kim drew herself up to her impressive height and Jiah cowered. She’d hung around enough pack bonfires to recognize that stance and that gaze. The woman was about to give her a piece of her mind.
Sure enough, her voice thundered when she addressed her.
“If you keep viewing yourself as a bother, I’m not sure how others will begin seeing you as anything else. You’re the head alpha’s mate. Your place is by his side, helping him with the crown on his head. It’s not a choice. Your duties are not mine and I am tired of doing them for you.” She snapped.
It stung. Guilt churned and Jiah could feel the beginnings of one of her episodes. The ones that always left her shaking and breathless. Much to her surprise, Lady Kim’s gaze softened at that and the next second she was being drawn into a warm embrace.
“Good lord child, why are you so terrified? Has my family not been kind enough to take away this stark terror out of your veins?” She sighed deeply. “You must not let your fears dictate your life. I want you to live your life, pleasing the person you’re bound to .”
Jiah felt her shoulders sag. Please the person she was bound to.  Of course. Namjoon. It all came down to the alpha wolf. And how was she supposed to please him, if he couldn’t bear to be in the same room as her?
“Yourself.” Lady Kim’s voice, laced with amusement made her jump.
Jiah frowned, pulling back to look at the older woman in confusion.
“You’re bound only to yourself , Jiah. You need to please yourself. To do and be the person you want to be. And then everything else will fall into place.”
Jiah watched as the woman went back to the door, calling for and directing a few more workers as they finished setting up the outer courtyard of her living quarters. Still a little chilled, she grabbed a thick coat from the small cupboard by the door, draping it over herself and tying it together with the sash. She moved quickly to the door, watching her mother in law talk to the workers, looking them straight in the eye , firm and clear in her instructions.
It was fascinating.
Lady Kim’s stance fairly vibrated with power and her voice brooked no disobedience. People looked at her and listened. They saw someone who knew what she was talking about and many a time, Jiah had felt it herself, the comfort of someone reliable. Someone who wished no ill on anyone.
Namjoon’s mother had lost her husband at a young age. Namjoon had scarcely been a babe of two when it had happened and the entire pack had expected the young wolf to lose his birthright as the heir. It was unheard of for a mate to take over the head alpha’s duties but Lady Kim had risen to the occasion with an elegance that had stunned everyone. The woman had met pack leaders and settled disputes, had negotiated boundary conflicts and made elaborate plans for new buildings , all while carrying around a babe that was still fed at her breast.
What was more, she had defended her position against the men who had wanted to usurp it. Mnhyuk and Jaejoon were two of her husband’s cousins, eager to sink their fangs into the woman to mate her, just to be able to get their hands on the pack. They were terrible men , even worse wolves. Their ideas on how the pack ought to be run dripping with archaic ideals and oppression of women.
But Lady Kim had humiliated them, told the whole pack in no uncertain terms that the next pack alpha would be Kim Namjoon. Her son would be raised to rule the pack with kindness and understanding and she would make sure of it.
The tales were told with hushed tones of disbelief and admiration and Jiah had listened to them with hunger and aching. Had felt such a huge surge of affection for the matron , had wanted to hug her and tell her she had done a great job.
And standing here as her daughter in law, she realized that she would be a fool not to listen to her. Not to learn from her. Especially when it was obvious that in the entire pack, the only one who didn’t seem to hold Kim Namjoon on a pedestal, was ironically his own mother.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“ They’re going to challenge you again. I can feel it.” Taehyung said gruffly, dropping the bundle of scrolls on the table and Namjoon flinched, head throbbing.
“That bad?” He asked hesitantly and Taehyung nodded.
“They want you to re-negotiate that treaty about courtesans owning property. Think it would make them quit the profession… if you let them own stuff” Seokjin said quietly and Namjoon bristled.
“They are no different from any of us. They work for their pay too. Why shouldn’t they be allowed to do what they wish with money that they’ve earned?” He demanded angrily.
“You’re a good man Namjoon. A fair one. And you’re striving to build a pack that treats all it members as equals . Obviously people who thrive on abusing their power aren’t going to like that. Especially Minhyuk and Jaejoon’s pups. Those two are terrible.”
“You should accept their challenge and just rip their throats out someday.” Taehyung said firmly AND Namjoon gave him a glare.
“I’m not going to shed blood without cause, Taehyung. Don’t suggest that. Even in passing.” He said firmly and the younger beta bowed politely in apology.
“Where is Jiah?” Seokjin asked casually.
Namjoon glanced at him, brows raised.
“Since when are you so familiar with my mate, hyung?”
Seokjin rolled his eyes.
“She used to come sit with me, when I watched over the herds on the outer pastures. Sweet little thing really. Very funny too.”
That made Namjoon pause.
“Funny?” He asked, completely confused.
“Witty. She would make these clever little riddles and jokes that would always leave me in stitches. We made a game of it. I would give her one of my funny jokes and she would give me a riddle. Is she feeling better now?”
Namjoon who was still kind of struck dumb by the idea of his cowering, reticent mate doing something as…. Normal and friendly as laughing and being witty….. could only stare at Seokjin in confusion.
“I…. Yes. She’s well. We’re expecting a pup.” He said softly.
Both Taehyung and Seokjin went still.
“What?!!! Why didn’t you say that first?!!” Taehyung exclaimed, offended.
“It’s not that important…” Namjoon waved it off, reaching for the scrolls , “ what about the treaties, then? You did tell Jungkook we aren’t changing anything right?”  
Seokjin scoffed.
“ Only you would say that these treaties are more important than your own pup.” He snapped.
Namjoon sighed a bit at that.
“I don’t mean that. I’m just saying, what she needs now is to rest and take care of herself and the baby. I’m not what she needs . I’ve arranged for her to stay in some private quarters with the other women.”
Seokjin sighed deeply. After years of being one of Namjoon’s trusted friends, he could feel his heart ache for the younger and all that he hid from the people around him. He reached out and gently placed a palm on Namjoon’s shoulder.
“ Namjoon, you don’t have to do all of this by yourself. Tae and I , we can take over duties a couple of days a week… You can relax… Maybe spend some time with your new wife….”
“She hates me.” Namjoon said softly. “ I spent a whole month trying to talk to her, all she did was tremble and shake. Even when we…” Namjoon exhaled sharply, “ Even in bed , she made me feel like I was some kind of…. Predator.”
Taehyung bit his lips, looking worried.
“You’re not… You’re not going to break the bond are you?” He asked nervously.
Namjoon sighed.
“I’m not. I may have considered it, before . But now… She’s with pup. I can’t do that to her. I don’t want to either.”
“Why did you pick her?”
Namjoon stayed quiet.
“Because you wanted a wife who wouldn’t ask or demand or complain.” Taehyung said distastefully.
“That’s not… You make it sound so terrible. I’m supposed to be taking over pack duties, supposed to renegotiate every single treaty we’ve drawn in the past twenty years, not to mention get the entire pack ready for the winter…. Of course I wanted a wife who would adjust. Have you seen the omegas in our clan? The ones I could court ? They want to leave on trips… They want to visit the neighbouring packs…. They want me to arrange festivities and feasts for every damn thing…. You think I can marry someone like that??” Namjoon snapped angrily. “none of them understand a damn thing about helping me out. They’re shallow and vain. Jiah… I chose her because she didn’t seem like one of them. She seemed like she could understand what it means to be my wife. But I was wrong. I thought she understood my responsibilities and was giving me my space…. Turns out she just thinks I’m some kind of monster she needs to run and hide from.”
Seokjin reached out, patting his back soothingly.
“Namjoon I understand… It’s been hard on you, and you’ve been doing all of it by yourself. Its bound to take a toll. And that’s why I think you should take a few days off, a week. Give us all the instructions. We’ll carry it all out. You can relax.”
“That’s exactly what my uncles want. For me to slack off. They’ll summon the council and want to challenge me again. I can’t afford it. “ Namjoon shook his head.” Not until the babe is born and my position as pack alpha is solidified. I can’t let them use this against me.”
Seokjin and Taehyung exchanged looks.
“Joon-ah….”
Namjoon gave both of them a tired smile.
“I’ll be fine hyung. It’s going to be okay.”  He said reassuringly. “ The council’s meeting tomorrow right? I’ll try to go over these tonight.”
“Its already past sundown.” Taehyung said worriedly.
“Then I better ask the maids to keep enough oil for the lamp to last.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What are you doing here?” Namjoon blinked, staring at her like she was out of her mind and Jiah flinched. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. But the sight of him made something curl in the pit of her stomach. He looked exhausted. Like he had been up all night. She wondered if perhaps she ought to retreat. Go back to the private quarters he’d arranged for her.
No. No , you will not chicken out of this.
“ You have a council meeting, this evening. Could I come with you?.” She said softly, watching his face carefully. She tried to read his emotions, tried to look for traces of irritation or anger but all she found was a sort of hopeless resignment. Like he had stopped trying to fight whatever was bringing him down.
“Come with me….?? ” Namjoon stared at her like he wasn’t quite sure what she was talking about.
She inhaled sharply.
“Your mother told me I could go. As your mate, I’m allowed to sit in on council meetings. She told me it’s a new provision. That you were the one who had it written in. So perhaps, you should… let me come with you.”
“My mother-“ He paused, sighing. “ You don’t have to do everything my mother asks you to.”
She blinked, the words throwing her off. The truth was, she had been the one, tailing the older woman all day, trying to see what she did and how she did it. Lady Kim had merely offered to help her do her duties. She had mentioned in passing, that for centuries , mates hadn’t been granted many rights of their own. Namjoon had spent the past couple of years making a lot of amendments to pack laws and the council hadn’t taken to kindly to all of them.
“ Of course. I just thought that, as I am your mate , perhaps I should accompany you. ” It was a miracle, the way her voice came out, steady . Not at all betraying the nervousness coursing through her veins.
“Jiah…. I’m not sure.” His voice dripped with hesitation and she flinched. Oh, well, no one could blame her for not trying.
“If you don’t want me there, that’s fine.” She said quickly.” I’ll go…”
She turned around, feeling her face burn red as she quickly descended the stairs to the courtyard.
“Jiah wait!!” His voice made her still.
She turned around swiftly.
“I didn’t mean to imply that I did not want you there. I just….Council meetings aren’t short. They tend to go on for hours. Will you be alright?” He asked gently, gaze dropping surreptitiously to her middle.  
It took her a minute to understand what he was even talking about.
“I… Oh.” She quickly pressed her palms to her stomach, confused. “ I mean… I may have to be excused a couple of times to relieve myself. I’ve been doing that way more often than usual.” She laughed.
Namjoon’s lips quirked in a hint of a smile and she flushed. Surely, her stern mate didn’t want to hear about her body functions? What was she even doing…
“But, yes. I wouldn’t mind sitting with you. Truly.” She said quickly.
Namjoon nodded.
“Well, then. You can come with me. It’s an hour before sundown… I’ll come fetch you myself.”
“Yes , alpha.” She said brightly, curtsying lightly and immediately feeling like a fool.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“They’re called red feathers …” The healer, a middle aged woman called Selma,  opened a small earthenware jar to show her the contents. Jiah peered into the jar, catching sight of a bundle of dried flowers and roots.
“These can help me…?” She asked dubiously and Selma gave a quiet chuckle.
“They help you sleep better and also help you relax. They’re good for you. You won’t feel this anxious if you take them regularly.” She said calmly.
“Oh… alright.” Jiah nodded, glancing carefully at her mother in law who was standing elsewhere, looking through an assortment of salves and tinctures. “ Can I…. is this safe for Namjoon?”
Lady Kim stilled, turning around to glance at her sharply and Jiah stiffened. God, her impulsive mouth. She wasn’t even sure why she said it. Just the whole , helps sleep better , had immediately reminded her of how tired Namjoon had looked.
“I’ve already tried to get him to drink some of it. He refuses.” Lady Kim said tiredly. “ He feels that it may affect his mental faculties”
“Auntie Selma?” A high, soft voice rang through the hut and Jiah glanced up. She went still, catching sight of Jisoo, dressed in red velvet and all of her ornate jewelry.
“Ah… Jisoo…you’re back.” Selma said cheerfully. “ How can I help you child?”
Jisoo stared at her, eyes steady and unreadable.
“I need some wild carrot seeds and ginger roots.” She said softly and Lady Kim scoffed.
“I hope the man you’re taking into your bed is not who I think it is , Jisoo.” She growled. The younger woman merely bowed.
“I’m but a courtesan, my lady. I go where I am asked to.” She said softly.
Lady Kim sighed.
“Then perhaps you should go back home. Now.” She said sharply and jisoo flushed and ugly red.
“Your son wants me to visit him for tea , this evening. I was hoping to meet my lovely lady there…but I hear you no longer stay in his hut.” Jisoo turned to her, tone dripping with acid and Jiah swallowed nervously.
“I… I’m…” She couldn’t quite talk, much less think of something to say.
“Because she is with child.” Lady Kim said sharply, a hint of triumph in her tone. “ Namjoon’s child.”
Jisoo had gone paper white, her face pale and bloodless.
“What?” She whispered.
“It’s true. She carries my son’s heir. You know what that means, Jisoo. It means they are bound, for life. I like you. I respect your courage and admire your talents. You are beautiful and you deserve a mate of your own. Do not pursue my son.” Lady Kim said firmly.
Jisoo didn’t respond for a few seconds.  
And then she bowed again .
“Like I said, my lady. I only go where I am called.” She said quietly.
She turned on her heels, stalking away and Jiah could only stare after her, heart pounding a bit at what had just happened. She wasn’t sure why she felt so much disquiet. She’d never had high hopes of fidelity from Namjoon. The entire village knew that Jisoo had been his paramour. But now that she had seen how dismissive the younger girl was of her, she felt the unaccountable urge to fight back. To stake her claim.
“You look pretty upset. Don’t let her bother you. Namjoon will not break his vows.” Lady Kim said quietly and Jiah gave her a soft smile, although her heart still raced. She remembered how pretty the girl had looked in all her brocades and velvets. She stared down at her own murky yellow dress. She couldn’t go to the council meeting, dressed worse than a courtesan. Couldn’t embarrass Namjoon like that.
“ My Lady….” She turned to her mother in law. The older woman hummed, returning to examining the shelves.
“What is it, child?”
“Can we stop at the seamstress’ hut on our way back?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Whatever Namjoon had been expecting, as he knocked on his wife’s private quarters, it hadn’t been this.
He stared , or to be more accurate, gaped at his wife, completely thrown by her appearance.
She looked…. Cheerful.
That was the only word he could think of, taking in the warm yellow and green fabric of her gown, all with an abundance of ribbons and lace. She had also clearly made some effort to tame her hair.
Not a very successfully attempt, considering the dozen strands sticking out of her bun and curling over her bare neck and shoulders …..but an attempt nonetheless.
Which reminded him.
Why was her neck bare?
“I…. have you forgotten… part of your dress…?” He asked awkwardly, gaze trained on the pale, blemish less expanse of skin in front of him. Too much of it was on display he felt.
“Oh?” Jiah twirled about for a second, glancing at herself. “ Not at all, my alpha. This is how it is.”
Namjoon blinked.
“Right… the night is getting colder. Perhaps a shawl?” He suggested tactfully.
Jiah frowned, sticking a hand out of the door as though to the gauge the night air.
“Really? Feels quite warm to me.” She said thoughtfully.  
“It may be cold for the baby.” He said quickly and that made her pause. She glanced back down at her tummy and he wondered what she expected to see, every time she did that.
“Perhaps you’re right alpha….let me be back.” She floated back into the hut and he sighed in relief when she reappeared with a white fleece shawl over her shoulders.
“Shall we go ?” She asked quietly and he hesitated before slowly offering her his arm. She gripped it lightly, and they began the short walk to the main village square where the council usually convened.
“You… You’re better adjusted to this place now?” He asked carefully, trying to find the girl he had taken to his bed. The terrified, nervous , trembling young girl.
Jiah didn’t respond at once.
“I… I’ve been drinking some of Selma’s potions. They help.” She said quietly and he frowned.
“Potions? Potions for what?”
“They help with my nerves. I get scared easily…imagine things ….” She trailed off nervously.” I’m very anxious by nature and it gets worse in a new place. With new people.”
Namjoon considered that carefully. That made sense. Perhaps, that was why she had been so odd.
“The potions help?” He asked carefully and she nodded.
“Yes…that and your mother.”
“My mother?”
“She’s very kind to me.”
Namjoon laughed a bit at that. In all the years he has had people talking to him about his mother, the word ‘kind ‘ had never come up.
“ I’m being honest….she has helped me adapt to this place. To see how things are run. I… I don’t want to be a bother. I want to pull my weight. In the pack. To help in any way I can…”
Namjoon felt a sudden unaccountable fondness bloom in his chest at the innocent words.
“ That’s very virtuous of you.” He said seriously and she flushed.
They didn’t say anything else, continuing the rest of the path in companionable silence Namjoon spotted the seven council members gathered around a blazing fire and lightly stepped closer to her.
“You can stay close to me. You don’t have to answer them.  If they try to draw you into any controversial topic, just ignore them. I’ll handle it.” He said quickly.
Jiah gave him a wide eyed, nervous look but nodded quickly, fingers moving from his forearm to his palm , linking with his own and gripping tight.
“I’m here. You’re not alone.” She said quickly and it was ridiculous, how the words actually helped him relax just a little.
Taking a deep breath, he led her on to the meeting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author’s Note : i thinks its about time i accepted that this is a full blown fic and not just a drabble. fuck my life. 
Note : Red feathers are actually herbal medicines used as anti depressants. So this is just werewolf au equivalent of therapy. 
248 notes · View notes
itsapeterthing · 3 years
Text
The Ship || Peter Parker
Tumblr media
pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader
summary: you and your best friend and teammate, peter parker, go to a costume party only to discover that everyone believes that you and peter’s alternate super-hero identities are dating.
word count: 3.8k
warnings: brief mention of near death experience, fluff
masterlist || request
Peter Parker was your best friend, teammate and that was it- or that was at least what you two told yourselves. The two of you met after you were sought out by the Avengers once you had discovered that you had powers. Since then, the two of you had fought alongside each other and when off from school, spent your time staying and training with one another at the Avengers Compound.
The two of you spent most of your time with the other but you both told yourselves it was because you both had crazy lives and hectic schedules that matched up- not because you particularly enjoyed hanging out with each other- especially alone. 
Although you both spent your fair share of time alone together, tonight you and Peter had other plans. Putting aside vigilante justice for one night, you and your best friend had agreed to go to a costume party. Despite the fact that none other than Flash Thompson was hosting said party, you convinced Peter it would be good for both of you to get out and allow yourselves to be normal teenagers for just one night without the responsibilities of being young superheroes hanging over you.
“Wait- you’re being Han Solo?” You asked your best friend as you crossed the street to meet him where he was standing on the sidewalk in front of Flash’s house. “You didn’t tell me that! I dressed as Leia!”
When you reached Peter, you stopped and admired him dressed as Han Solo. He stood bathed in the light underneath the lamppost and as much as your brain hated for you to think it, you couldn’t help but admit to yourself that the costume looked... good. That he looked good. You never even thought about the idea of him dressing as Han but now that he was standing in front of you you couldn’t help yourself from staring a little bit longer than you were probably supposed to at the way the white shirt hung on his body underneath Han’s characteristic vest.
Peter did the same, admiring you in the famous white dress of Leia’s until Ned- who was dressed as Luke- nudged your shared best friend. “Dude.” He muttered to Peter.
“What? Oh!” He spoke finally shaking his head. “It- it’s fine, Y/n. People will just think we're dressed in a group costume.”
“They’ll think I’m your girlfriend. It’s whatever.” You told him nonchalantly before walking ahead of the two boys to enter the party. “It’s getting cold can we just go inside, please?”
As you continued to walk up the steps he was now the one stopped in his place, admittedly a little hurt by what you had said. He wondered why it would be such a bad thing if other people thought that the two of you were a couple... before he snapped himself out of it, reminding himself that you were his best friend. He didn’t like you like that and you definitely didn’t like him like that. What was he thinking?
Mindlessly, Peter and Ned followed you up the steps and into the party. Although Peter dressed up, he admittedly didn’t think that many others would, but to his surprise the house was packed with other kids from school dressed in costumes of their own.
“Penis Parker!” Peter and you heard an all too familiar voice shout. “Y//l/n! I’m surprised you guys actually came. Thought Parker said he was too busy for stuff like this?”
Just when you were about to answer in Peter’s place you heard a loud crash sound from the kitchen. As soon as the sound reached Flash’s ears he quickly raced to the kitchen without saying another word to either you. “Not the vase!” was the last thing you picked up before he left you, Ned and Peter’s point of view. 
“Well.... that was easy.” Peter said. “I’m going to go get something to drink. Do you want anything, Y/n?”
“Just a water is fine.” You smiled.
While Peter and Ned left to go find something to drink, you stood in your place, taking in the room around you. Around you was a large crowd of students your own age dressed in all sorts of fun costumes from the generic angel to who you assumed was a Taylor Swift.
Although you saw many different costumes- noting a few to point out to Peter when he got back- one in particular caught your eye immediately. Still standing in the spot Peter had left you in, you watched a girl across the living room from you stand there with a drink in her hand dressed in what you were sure was an all too familiar ensemble.
She was wearing a black jumpsuit with a matching black cloak tied across her shoulders. Both the jumpsuit and the cloak were adorned in haphazard details made of what you assumed was golden glitter glue. Completing her look was a matching black mask, covering her eyes.
You could recognize that ensemble anywhere. Although it was most certainly cheaper and made of latex and glitter glue, you knew it was attempting to replicate the ensemble you wore as your superhero alias “Sorceress”.
Neither you nor Peter had shared your identities with the world or your powers with your classmates. As far as everyone at your school knew besides Ned- you and Peter were normal high school students and Spider-Man and Sorceress were Avengers who saved humanity from multiple world-ending threats- there was no connection between you two and your secret super-human identities.
Although you knew you probably shouldn’t have, you couldn’t help yourself. Before you even realized what you were doing, your feet were already carrying you across the room to meet the girl dressed as... well... you.
When you stopped in front of her and her eyes met yours, you knew you couldn’t back down now. “Hi, sorry. I have to ask-“ You spoke, gesturing to her costume. “Are you- are you dressed as Sorceress? Like the Avenger?”
Taking another sip of her drink, the girl smiled back at you, nodding her head, her blond ponytail bouncing with it. “Yeah!” She told you. “That’s so cool that you noticed. I’m wearing it because my boyfriend wanted to do a couples costume.”
Just when your heart was filling with pride in knowing someone wanted to dress as you, you were taken back by her comment. Your outfit... a part of... a couple’s costume? You were sure you heard her wrong. You- and therefore your superhero alias Sorceress- were most definitely not a part of a couple.
“What do you mean couple’s costume?” You asked, quirking your eyebrow.
Before the girl in front of you could could answer you, however, you heard the shout of the name “Amber” from across the living room. You watched as the girl, Amber- you now realized her name was- jolted her head, stepping on her tip toes to scan over the sea of heads surrounding you.
“That’s him calling now!” She informed you.
You followed her line of sight and watched as her boyfriend emerged from the crowd... unmistakably dressed as... Spider-Man. Confirming your suspicions even further, you watched as Peter trailed behind him.
When the couple finally met, you and your best friend’s widened eyes met each other, knowing without a word that Peter had just had the same conversation with Amber’s boyfriend in the other room.
“Wait... this is your couple’s costume?” You asked, making sure you were understanding the situation properly but also not entirely sure if you wanted the answer.
Just as you asked, her boyfriend wrapped his arm around her waist as she rested her head on his shoulder and laid her hand on his chest, giggling.
You knew your best friend, Peter, well enough to know that he was looking at the sight in front of him with the same horror in his eyes as you were.
“Yeah!” Her boyfriend, clad in the Spider-Man outfit assured you. “We’ve been getting compliments all night!”
You could barely believe the sight in front of you. You and Peter were best friends and nothing more and your superhero aliases abided by that same rule. The two of you never confirmed a relationship to anyone or- to your knowledge- ever give anyone a reason to believe that Spider-Man and Sorceress- or more importantly- you and Peter- were ever anything more than best friends.
“But...” You began, being careful to not expose yourself and Peter. “Spider-Man and Sorceress aren’t dating.”
At that the couple in front of you both laughed as the boy dressed as Spider-Man replied, “You’re joking right? Do you even keep up with the news or anything?”
You and Peter simultaneously turned to look at each other before your attention was grabbed by none other than the host of the party- Flash Thompson- butting himself into the conversation.
“Woah, Spider-Man! Nice!” He complimented, shaking the boyfriend’s shoulder, then noticing his girlfriend laid over him. “Wait wait wait- she’s Sorceress? Dude! Best. couple’s costume. ever.”
“They’re not a couple!” Peter shouted suddenly besides you.
All five of you went silent after Peter’s outburst before Flash spoke up again, chuckling.
“Parker, I wouldn’t expect you to keep up with someone as awesome as Spider-Man.” Flash told him. “But Spider-Man and Sorceress are one hundred percent dating.”
As if on cue you and Peter glanced at each other once again, communicating your horror, confusion and embarrassment without words.
“They’ve never said they’re dating.” You told Flash finally, crossing your arms.
“They don’t have to!”
“Yeah!” Amber agreed, still draped over her boyfriend. The image of someone dressed as you all over someone dressed as Peter despite the fact that you two were only best friends and nothing more made made you feel almost embarrassed standing next to Peter. You just wanted to shrink into yourself. It was almost as if someone had exposed one of your deepest, darkest secrets to Peter that you couldn’t bare to have him know.
“What- what makes you think they’re together?” Peter asked, finally finding his voice once again.
Peter hoped that the dim lights in the room would mask and make it impossible for you to catch the blush that was spreading quickly over his cheeks and ears.
What you didn’t know about your best friend standing beside you, fiddling with his wristwatch while this scene played out in front of him was that he felt the exact same way. He wanted nothing more than to escape this situation without looking suspicious considering his fantasy was playing out in front of his own eyes. As much as he hated to admit it to himself and he told himself he would never admit it to you- he had laid awake at night thinking about standing with you the same way the couple in front of you were.
“Do you ever watch clips of them online or anything?” The unnamed boyfriend asked. “Where do I even start?”
Before anybody could even begin to answer, he nudged his girlfriend off of his shoulder and began counting off on his fingers.
“For starters they’re always together. Have you ever seen them fight and not be next to each other? Didn’t think so. Also, she’s always getting swung around by Spider-Man. She can basically fly, can’t she? Seems weird, right?”
Now you could feel yourself becoming flustered. Was there a door nearby that you could escape through? Maybe they wouldn’t notice. Maybe Peter wasn’t paying attention to what this guy just said.
“Also remember that story about how Sorceress was patrolling that parade on some rooftop and that guy came up behind her with a gun and before she even noticed Spider-Man- like- webshot the gun out of his hand? They said he was supposed to be like two blocks away! I’m just saying, for you to notice something like that from two blocks away, you have to be looking- like really watching her-“
“Okay!” Peter shouted.
Everyone’s attention then turned to Peter with their eyes wide. Even some of the chatter had died down around you and you could see people quickly glance and glare towards Peter before resuming their own conversations and antics.
“Listen man,” The guy told him. “I’m just saying they’re definitely together.”
Fiddling with the long, white sleeve of your dress it was your turn to speak up. “Maybe they’re just friends?” You suggested, shrugging.
With that the guy in front of you as well as Flash adamantly shook their heads.
“No way.” The guy concluded.
“Yeah,” Flash said. “You’re trying to tell me that Spider-Man would friend zone a hot, sorceress who he’s with all the time? Okay, Y/n. I knew Parker was dumb, but I expected more from you.”
Now you were seriously flustered and from Peter’s outburst earlier you could tell- even without his “Peter tingle”- that he was too.
“What if she doesn't want him?” Peter asked.
As soon as you whipped around to face your best friend, your brain still attempting to comprehend what he had just implied by his sentence, you heard the blare of police sirens making their way down the street.
“Shit.” Flash muttered.
After that, everything happened so fast. You and Peter joined the exodus of partygoers scrambling out of Flash Thompson’s front door before taking a cab to the Avengers Compound where the two of you would be staying for the night due to you having training the following morning. The car ride was mostly silent as both of you- unbeknownst to the other- continuously replayed the conversation with the couple and Flash in each of your heads.
Did you two really make yourselves out to be a couple? Were you guys a little too close for best friends?
You ran through your head all the things that the guy had mentioned. You and Peter were essentially attached at the hip and he was your partner on most missions but you figured it was just because you were best friends. You remembered the night where you almost would have died if it weren’t for Peter looking out for you. He told you it was a coincidence, but what if he really was looking out for you the whole time?
Then you thought of all the times you had saved Peter. Did you catch everything because you were observant of everything going on around you or because you were hellbent on protecting your favorite person?
Before you could dig even deeper into your thoughts, you felt the cab stop outside the limits of the Avengers Compound. You and Peter climbed out of the cab and made your way towards the entrance of the building almost without a word. You could usually live with the silence between yourself and Peter- it was peaceful. But now you could just hear yourself screaming in your own head to make the awkwardness stop.
“So...” You cut through the silence.
“So...”
“Crazy night, huh?” You chuckled awkwardly, trying to diffuse the situation.
“Y- yeah...”
“You two are here-” You both looked up at the sound of none other than Tony Stark’s voice. He was standing in the doorway of the facility with a cup of coffee in his hand. He shifted his view from you and Peter to his watch. “Like... what? Twelve hours early? This isn’t a daycare.”
Peter was the first to speak.
“Mr. Stark? What are you doing here?”
“Scuffed up the suit a bit on our last little promo tour in Germany- figured I’d fix it up. I also- I don’t know- pay for the place.” He shrugged before using his free hand to gesture between the two of you and your Han Solo and Leia costumes. “What’s with the get up? Since when are you two together?”
“Why does every one think we’re dating?” You huffed in frustration.
Tony laughed.
“So you two know about the whole ‘Spider-Man and Sorceress’ thing I take it?” He asked, quirking his eyebrow and taking another sip of the coffee in his hand.
“Wait.” Peter said, piecing it together. “You knew about that?”
“Uhhhhh, yeah.” Tony said clearing his throat. “I created some of the highest performance equipment in the world... I think I can do a google search.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” You asked him, practically yelling.
“Because you guys are what? Eighteen? I thought you for sure would have googled yourselves by now. Besides, what are you going to do about it now that you know? Hmm?” He paused, testing the both of you. “Tell everyone you’re not dating? You two are literally wearing a couples costume right now.”
“That wasn't our plan!” Both you and Peter shout in unison.
“Look at you two- finishing each other’s sentences.” He teased the two of you, swinging the door open to make his way back inside. He looked over his shoulder at the two of you one last time, calling. “Don’t stay out too long! The last thing I need is for you two to catch a cold. Imagine those headlines!”
When you heard the door click into place behind Mr. Stark, instead of following him inside you sat yourself on the steps. When you looked up to catch Peter still standing in his spot, staring at you, you gave him a small smile and pat the spot on the step besides you. You watched as Peter shot you a closed smile in return, slipping off the vest that had previously been around his chest before plopping himself down in the sport beside you with a sigh.
Without Tony there to break the tension, an awkward silence hung in the air around you, knowing that the other was thinking of the conversation from the party you had just briefly attended.
Without thinking, you rested your head on Peter’s shoulder.
You thought over the events of the past night. Did you like Peter? You would have normally told yourself that this wasn’t true but you couldn’t deny the way your heart jumped in your chest when you saw him standing under the lamppost dressed in costume or the way your heart ached for Peter to hold you the way Amber’s boyfriend was at the party. As admittedly awkward as it was to watch people pick apart your relationship right in front of you, a part of you knew that they were right.
Much to your surprise it was Peter who broke the silence first.
“Do we... do we like each other?” He asked you.
You didn’t move, only focusing your attention on the stars above you while your head rested on Peter’s shoulder.
You didn’t exactly know how to answer that question. In what was almost a movie like montage, all the memories you had of Peter rushed through your brain from the first time the two of you met to nightly patrols to where you were now, picking them apart and analyzing each of them. You recalled the times where he nearly died and how terrified you felt, knowing a piece of you would die with him. Any time Peter was in danger, your first thought had always been regret- not because you couldn’t save him- but because of all the things that would be left unsaid. You never understood that gaping whole you felt in your chest any time he was hurt, but now you did- you liked Peter. You had always loved him, but you now realized you loved him in a way you were almost afraid to admit.
“I think so.” You laughed.
Peter quickly pulled away, causing you to lose your balance as his shoulder shifted to no longer cushion your head.
“A- are you sure? Are you just saying that because of... of you know Flash and everyone?” You gazed at his face, watching as his eyes searched yours for a hint of truth. You could see the worry coated over his face. “If you don’t, it’s okay. It’s totally okay. Just... be honest. O-o okay?”
You smiled at him once again. This time while your eyes still met his underneath the stars and the glow of the warm light escaping from the front door, you reached out for one of his hands.
This wasn’t the first time the two of you held hands, but this time it felt different as you gently wrapped your hand around his.
“I’m not just saying it, Pete.” You promised him. “I think I’ve always had a little bit of a crush on you. I just- I don’t know- I guess I never admitted it to myself because I was too afraid to tell you.”
“Why?”
You sighed, your eyes straying from his to your intertwined hands in his lap.
“You’re Peter Parker. You spend the whole day being the smartest guy in the room and at night you save people from bad guys. Even Flash worships the ground Spider-Man walks on. Plus, you’re my best friend, Peter. I didn’t want to admit it to myself and then have to deal with it and risk losing you. Even right now I’m realizing you never said that you necessarily liked me. Even if you don’t just don’t stop being my best friend, Pete. I couldn’t take it. Please-”
As you reached the end of your speech and looked up, you immediately felt the soft touch of Peter’s lips connecting with yours for a light peck. As soon as you comprehended what was going on, his lips left yours, but his face stayed close to yours. Your eyes met and before he could say anything else, you reached your free hand up to cup Peter’s cheek, pulling him in for another kiss.
Both of your eyes fluttered shut and you could feel his hand squeeze yours as the two of you melted into the kiss. You could barely believe that you were kissing Peter- you’re sweet best friend, Peter- but as his lips met yours all you could do was ask yourself how you had gone this long without doing it.
When you finally pulled away, all either of you could do was smile.
“So.. you like me?”
Peter chuckled and he was so close, you could feel his warm breath against your skin still. “Y- yeah.”
“Good.” You smiled, leaning in once again, but before you could meet his lips, Peter’s eyes went wide as he pulled away.
Worried yourself that you had done something wrong, you squeezed Peter’s hand. “What's wrong?”
“I just realized- we forgot Ned.”
“Oh shit.”
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spanishskulduggery · 3 years
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Hi can you help me figure out the different between present perfect subjunctive (e.g. haya reconocido) and imperfect subjunctive (e.g. reconociera)? Not those verbs exactly but when to use them? Thank you!
They're very similar, depending on how you use them.
Note: I promise this will come into play later but I just want to make something very clear. In Spanish, there are tenses and there are moods. It may be easier to understand them in Spanish - a tense is tiempo [meaning "time"] while a mood is modo [meaning "mode"]
There are 3 moods, indicative, subjunctive, and imperative [imperative are commands; not useful for this particular discussion]
The moods encompass the different tenses... so think of it like columns; indicative includes present tense, preterite, imperfect, future, conditional etc. And subjunctive includes present subjunctive and imperfect subjunctive.
The layman's explanation is that the mood says how the language works according to the "conditions" of the sentence/thought, and the tense says at what time it happens.
A very simple layman's explanation: the mood is the "conditions" of language. The tenses say whether it was past, present, or future in some capacity.
And there's usually a version of the indicative that corresponds to the subjunctive... present tense indicative happens at the same "time" as present tense subjunctive, for example
And perfect tenses [the ones that use haber] are a bit of a rogue time traveler; they can exist in any tense and can be either indicative or subjunctive, thus he reconocido happens at the same "time" as haya reconocido... just the conditions are different
No hemos reconocido... = We haven't recognized...
Es increídible que no hayamos reconocido... = It's unbelieveable that we haven't recognized...
So while they seem to express the same thought or idea, and though they happen at the same time [tense] the conditions of the second sentence necessitate subjunctive mood.
Keep that in mind going forward and it will make a lot more sense.
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Present perfect just in general is used for placing something a little bit in the past, but since it's present it's still affecting the present:
Escribí. = I wrote. He escrito. = I have written.
Comí. = I ate. He comido. = I have eaten.
Pagué. = I paid. He pagado. = I have paid.
In the contexts of grammar, the simple past [preterite] in the first examples is just the actions "I wrote" or "I ate" etc. The action is done and completed and over.
Note: There are many people who will use the present perfect in place of the preterite tense because they do equate to largely the same thing in function. Though technically different, it's a colloquial thing.
But in a more grammatical roundabout way, present perfect brings that past action into the present, meaning it still has some bearing on the present in some way. Saying "I have written" is a way of just talking about past actions, but possibly bringing them into the present still.
I realize that doesn't make much sense but consider something like: "I've written a lot of essays, but I don't know how to write a poem"; or "I've read a lot of books but I've never read that author".
In those contexts, your past actions now have some bearing on the present situation. That's the basis of the perfect tenses.
With the haya here, that's the subjunctive form of haber.
In grammatical terms, it's the same idea as the present perfect... just with subjunctive phrasing:
No te has roto el brazo. = You didn't break your arm. Dudo que te hayas roto el brazo. = I doubt you broke your arm.
Lo has terminado. = You finished it. / You've finished it. Dime en cuanto lo hayas terminado. = Tell me as soon as you're done. / Tell me once you've finished it.
No se han equivocado. = They weren't wrong. No creo que se hayan equivocado. = I don't believe/think they were wrong.
Me han llamado idiota. = They've called me an idiot. Aunque me llamen idiota... = Even if they call me an idiot... [present subjunctive] Aunque me hayan llamado... = Even though they have called me an idiot...
In Spanish there are certain subjunctive phrases that activate, and they exist across multiple tenses.
Certain phrases necessitate subjunctive, so it can be the same information sort of, but they'll determine whether it's indicative or subjunctive.
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Imperfect subjunctive is the equivalent of past tense subjunctive.
So just as an example real quick:
1. Quiero que pongas la mesa. = I want you to set the table.
2. Quería que pusieras la mesa. = I wanted you to set the table.
1. Sugieren que lo hagamos. = They suggest that we do it.
2. Sugieron que lo hiciéramos. = They suggested that we do it.
1. Es importante que tenga tiempo libre. = It's important that I have free time.
2. Era importante que tuviera tiempo libre. = It was important that I had free time.
1. Aunque me hayan llamado cobarde... = Even though they have called a coward...
2. Aunque me hubieran llamado cobarde... = Even though they had called me a coward...
Still subjunctive mood, just 1 is present, 2 is "past" so it's imperfect.
Imperfect subjunctive today also encompasses future subjunctive which can be confusing. This is normally done with contrary to fact states, hypothetical situations, and your basic if/then constructions with the conditional tense.
Si tuviera el dinero... = If I had the money... Si tuviera el dinero, estudiaría en el extranjero. = If I had the money, I would study abroad.
Si pudiera... = If I could... Lo haría si pudiera. = I would do it if I could.
Si me permitiera, señor... = If you allow me, sir... Si me permitiera, señor, podría ayudar. = If you allow me, sir, I can/could help.
Si hubiera otra opción... = If there was/were another option... Si hubiera otra opción, lo elegiríamos. = If there was/were another option, we would choose it.
Como si fuera la última vez... = As if it were the last time...
Me habló como si fuera idiota. = He talked to me like I was an idiot.
No puedo creer que nuestro jefe nos regañe como si fuéramos niños traviesos. = I can't believe our boss would scold us as if we were naughty children. [technically could be niñas traviesas if it the nosotros here were nosotras referring to all women]
You will occasionally see the future subjunctive forms, but really only in literature and contracts. It's not used commonly today; it'll look like imperfect subjunctive just with -e endings; tuviere, hubiere, hablare, llamare, quisiere etc.
For example: si fuere menester is a common thing in contracts and means "in the event of". Literally it's "if it were to be needed"
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Important historical / regional note!
Once upon a time, the -iera/-ara forms were used as pluperfect, "had done", "had seen" etc.
You see it mostly in literature, particularly literature before a certain time period or things set in the middle ages or that have an old-timey feel (like Lord of the Rings has this)
So if you had come across llamara you might assume it's imperfect subjunctive, but it may read as "had called" which is pluperfect.
In other words for some historical contexts (and only for historical contexts, not for modern day Spanish):
me hablaran = me habían hablado = they had talked to me
les escribieran = les habían escrito = they had written to them
nos dijeras = nos habías dicho = you had told us
viera = había visto = he/she/You had seen
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I'm not a historical linguist but I believe this is because haber in older contexts was not an auxiliary verb like this. In its original form, haber worked the way Italian did as "to have". You would see el hombre ha dos hijos "the man has two children".
haber didn't get used as an auxiliary verb until later on, and tener which now means "to have", was often used in the context of "to obtain" or "to grasp"
So in these older contexts, pluperfect [now done with haber in imperfect + past participle] was done with one verb.
Imperfect subjunctive would have been done with the -iese/-ase forms. So llamase read as "would call"; si me llamasen "if they should call me" for example
Just be careful when you're reading things like that! It's usually not too bad if you can recognize the verb because at least you get the overall meaning, but if it's not quite translating how you think it might be one of those more "antiquated" usages of a tense
...
Spain still keeps this distinction more so than Latin America. You will see -ara/-iera forms used for imperfect subjunctive [past subjunctive].
But in Spain you're more likely to see those contrary to fact statements or hypotheticals with the -ase/-iese forms:
Si lo hubiese sabido... = If I had known...
Si tuviésemos más tiempo... = If we had more time...
Como si fuésemos niños... = As if we were children...
My own Spanish leans towards Latin American usages, so I tend to use -ara/-iera forms for everything.
Spain makes more of a distinction between them, and that's why in most dictionaries or conjugation charts you'll see two different forms... like "fuera O fuese" for example
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Importante Note: You will see the -ara/-iera forms used as pluperfect in some contexts, even in Latin America - above all in journalism, biographies, and publications
This is why you may see nació "was born" written as naciera "was born"...
But you will NEVER see it as naciese for "was born"
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