#don’t worry I tailor the traps to everyone specially:))

[jay-birds-fly]

A candid image of me cleverly tricking my unsuspecting friends into sharing an interest with me so I have someone to infodump to

#don’t worry I tailor the traps to everyone specially:)) #infodumping is a love language #the interests include but are not limited to #stranger things #our flag bbc #banana fish #mdzs #qsmp #kpop #haikyuu #mcyt #anime #yuri on ice #newsies #animal crosing new horizons #musicals #music #dsmp #shoutout my sister for dealing with this constantly #omg hit tweet! /j

[sinner-as-saint]

Just A Little Too Much.

(Dark) Mob!Steve Rogers x Innocent!Reader AU

Run-through: You met Steve after your parents got divorced. He was your mom’s ‘special friend’, and you soon began living at his place, along with your mom. You were just 18 and a half then, and Steve became the only man you looked up to after you learnt that your father was sent to prison for unknown reasons. Soon, Steve became the only family you had after your mother started going away on even more trips for work, then came the time where she stopped coming home altogether. But that was alright, because you had Steve. You were his Princess, and he often told you that you needed no one else but him. He would do anything for you, he loved you - perhaps just a little too much. 

Themes: innocent!reader, manipulation, dark!steve, smut, fluff

You woke up from your nap with a faint smile on, feeling a pair of lips leaving soft, warm kisses all over your cheek. 

Steve. 

You immediately felt so warm just knowing he was here; his powerful scent wrapping around you, making you feel safe. 

“Wake up, Princess.” He murmured. “It’s your birthday, you can’t be napping.” He said it like it was the most ridiculous thing one could do. 

You heard Steve’s voice, and felt his beard trail after his lips all over your face. You opened your eyes, giggling and realizing that you had fallen asleep on the couch in your bedroom. You looked up to find Steve above you, his strong arm placed on the back of the couch as he bent over slightly to look down at you with his pretty blue eyes. He was dressed in one of his many expensive, well-tailored suits which gave away that he had just finished some call or video conference regarding work. 

“Hi Stevie.” 

His soft gaze roamed your body. “Hi Princess. Come on wake up, you don’t wanna sleep all day.” 

You smiled up at him. “Yes I do.” You said, making him raise his eyebrows at you; smirking. “It’s my birthday, I can nap all day if I want to.” You did make a fair point, he had to admit. 

His smirk morphed into a gentle, calming smile as he reached out to caress your cheek softly. “But I miss you.” 

You shrugged, lazily. “Sounds like a personal problem to me.” 

His lips parted in fake surprise. “Is that so?” 

The moment you saw his hands reaching out towards you, you knew he was planning to tickle you till you ran out of breath and begged him to stop. So you shot up and slipped from his grasp, running away as fast as you could; giggling uncontrollably. 

Steve chased you, chuckling each time you escaped his grasp. “Come here, Princess. You can’t run from me, you know that.” He chased you around the room, watched you as you jumped over the coffee table, the pouf and just as you were about to run into the walk-in closet Steve managed to grab your hand and tackled you down on the bed. 

He had you trapped, giggling and squirming under him. He was a happy man as he looked down at you, pinning your wrists down on the bed above your head, his face so close to yours that he was certain you and him were sharing the same breath. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. 

You eventually stopped fighting and squirming. You looked up at him and smiled as big as you could. You stared up at him and saw the man who was your everything. 

Steve was your everything. Your family was… absent. Steve said none of them cared about you as much as he did. Steve also said that your father was not a good man, and that’s why he was locked up in jail. You never asked why, or what he did to deserve such punishment, but Steve said that it wasn’t important for you to know so you let it go. Your mom was not here either, she was always out of the country, working. Steve said your mom made work her priority over you, but that was okay too because you had Steve. And he was all you need. 

Steve looked down at you, admiring how pretty his Princess was. When he first saw you around four years ago, he knew he had to protect you forever. You were too precious, too innocent for this world. He couldn’t just stand there and watch this world corrupt you in any way, so he kept you close. He did what he had to in order to keep you under his roof and protection all the time. He made sure you’d never have to worry about anything, ever. 

“Hi Princess.” He murmured again, still on top of you. You gave him a smile which always melted his heart ever since day one. You owned him, and you probably had no idea about all the things he was willing to do for you. 

“Hi Stevie.” To you, he had always been Stevie - your best friend, your family, your protector - your everything. You don’t know where everyone went, or why everyone gradually disappeared from your life once you met Steve. But you had him, and he was all you needed. 

“Happy Birthday.” He whispered, wishing you for the fifth time since this morning when you woke up in his arms. Steve leaned down to kiss the side of your mouth. 

You relished his touch. Steve always made you feel good just by being there, and having all his attention on you was all you ever wanted. You giggled as he kissed his way down your neck. “Thank you.” 

He hummed as he kissed along the neckline of the dress you were wearing. “Did you like your gift, Princess?” Steve asked, kissing along the top of your breasts. 

You let out a quiet gasp of pleasure as you felt him gently nip at your skin. You nodded, “I did. Thank you, Stevie.” You whispered, getting lost in the way he made you feel. You thought of the gift he had given you this morning, it was currently parked in the twelve-car garage of the house, sitting there with a pretty, red bow on top of it. It was your shiny, new dream car. 

“We can go on a drive later, if you want.” He murmured against your skin, one of his hands releasing your wrists, lowering to undo the buttons at the front of your dress. 

You shivered as you felt the warm, slow touches of his lips and fingertips all at the same time. He was always so gentle with you and always so mean to others. He always said that was because you were his precious Princess and other people meant nothing to him. 

A drive with Stevie sounded amazing. Only, he’s always working these days. Would he even have the time? “We could. But then what about work?” 

He froze for a moment, hearing the hint of sadness and uncertainty in your tone. He hated it. He hated that he had been so engrossed in work this past week that you noticed he wasn’t spending enough time with you. 

Steve pulled away and looked up at you. “I’ve been too busy with work lately, haven’t I?” He asked, knowing the answer. The little, sad nod you gave him made his heart hurt. “Aww…” he cooed, reaching up to kiss your nose, “I’m sorry, Princess.” He murmured against your skin and pulled away to look into your eyes again. “How about this, you have me all to yourself for the whole day today and the upcoming week? Sounds good?” 

He didn’t care about how much that would affect the many people who worked for him, all he knew was that his Princess needed him and he would do anything to make her happy. 

You smiled brightly. “Perfect!” 

He chuckled before leaning in to kiss your lips. Slow and gentle at first, before growing more and more needy for you. He pressed his body against yours, allowing you to feel the urgency of his need. You gasped into the heated kiss as you felt his hardness in between your legs. Steve shoved his tongue past your lips, tasting you, stroking the inside of your mouth. You whined when you felt him roll his hips against yours. 

You felt warm, burning with need just as much as he was. And he knew. 

You shivered in pleasure as you felt him kiss his way down your body again, unbuttoning your dress with impatience, his need overpowering his entire being. He needed you, needed to taste you and have you come undone on his tongue, he needed your taste embedded in his brain, not wanting to risk ever forgetting it. 

Steve kissed down the middle of your breasts, down till your belly button and stopped at the waistband of your light pink, lace panties, which matched the bra and the dress you wore. Wanting to tease you just a little, he stuck his tongue out and licked along the edge of your underwear before licking up and down your wet, clothed core. 

He watched you squirm on the bed. Smirking devilishly, he kissed along your inner thigh just to mess with you a little more. He could tell you were slowly giving into the haze of pleasure which washed over you even though he had barely touched you yet. 

“Stevie…” you whispered, closing your eyes and tipping your head back as he nibbled along the soft skin on your inner thigh. “Please…” 

He had to give in. His cock twitched in his pants, straining against the zipper at the sound of your soft moans and pleas. 

He pulled your underwear away from your skin and to the side, exposing your dripping wet folds to his hungry eyes. He could tell just by the look of it that your sensitive clit was throbbing. He hummed in satisfaction, “Prettiest little cunt I’ve ever seen…” He whispered more so to himself, reminding himself - not that he would ever forget - that you were his. “Spread your legs for me, Princess.” 

You did, just like you did everything he asked. You parted your legs then supported yourself up on your elbows, watching him. Steve once mentioned that he liked it when you watched him as he pleasured you. 

You let out a moan the moment his mouth touched you. His lips moved along your wet folds as his tongue teased your entrance. His beard scratched your sensitive skin, as your arousal spread all over his mouth. 

“You taste so sweet, Princess.” You watched how Steve closed his eyes, savouring your taste. You were a moaning mess in no time, your whole body electrified at his touch. “Like strawberries and honey.” He moaned at your taste alone, humping against the bed discreetly. He could always fuck you later, but right now was strictly about you. 

Steve moved his hand which was caressing up and down your thigh towards your core. He pushed his two fingers past your entrance and pumped them in and out of you slowly, gradually increasing his pace. He felt your walls clench around his fingers as you moaned louder and louder with each stroke of his fingers against your walls. His mouth moved to your throbbing clit, teasing you further until you felt like you were losing your mind. 

“Stevie…” You struggled to hold back your moans. 

Steve took one look at you and he knew you wouldn’t last much longer. You never could last long under his touch anyways. But he was always more than happy to pleasure his Princess. 

“Are you gonna cum for me, Princess? You can’t hold back from cumming all over my tongue, can you baby?” 

His husky voice made your body throb even more, along with his warm breath fanning your damp skin. You whined in response, dropping down on the bed - your upper body having no strength to hold you up any longer. Steve chuckled. 

“It’s okay, Princess. Cum for me.” He whispered and placed his mouth back on your clit while his fingers pumped in and out of your relentlessly. He noticed the way your legs were shaking slightly. You couldn’t hold the pressure in between your legs anymore so you let go and came violently around his fingers and mouth. 

You moaned out loud, squirming as you came, and Steve lapped up everything you had to offer. He licked each and every drop of your cum as it spilled out of you before kissing his way up your body again. He reached your lips and kissed you deeply. 

You giggled into the kiss. It made Steve smile, he always found it adorable how you were always so giggly after he made you cum. 

Steve pulled away after a while, looking down at your swollen lips and the shine in your eyes. “Want me to order your favorites for your special day? Strawberry and chocolate donuts?” He asked. Those damn donuts were your kryptonite. He often wondered if you loved them more than you loved him. 

You gave it a thought. “Nope.” 

Your answer worried him. And he opened his mouth to ask you why but you spoke up before he could. “Let’s make some cupcakes instead. With strawberry and chocolate icing.” You had missed him so much and you desperately wanted to spend time with him, and what was better than baking together in the kitchen? 

Steve smiled, almost reading your mind. He knew exactly why you had proposed so. He felt a little guilty but quickly pushed those thoughts aside. Then he remembered… 

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Princess,” it sounded like a warning. “You remember what happened the last time we tried to bake something, right?” His voice sent shivers dancing down your back. 

Of course you remembered. It involved a lot of kisses, chocolate ganache and eventually ended with Steve fucking you right there on the kitchen floor. Your face felt really as that memory resurfaced in your head. 

You nodded. “I promise that won’t happen again, Stevie.” You were the one to blame for that, since it was you who kept teasing him in the first place. 

He hummed in your ear, the sound making your body throb again. “We’ll see about that.” He pulled away and stared down at you. “Okay, come on. Let’s go make some cupcakes for my Princess.” 

You jumped out of bed the moment he got off you. He pulled you close again, buttoning your dress for you while you looked up at him like he hung the moon. 

By the time you made it to the kitchen, Steve had already removed his suit jacket and tie. The black button down shirt was doing things to you but he didn’t need to know that yet. It should be illegal for a man to look that good. While you took out all the appliances and utensils you needed for the cupcakes and icing, Steve’s phone vibrated on the counter. 

He grabbed his phone and took a look at who the caller was. You noticed the frown on his face. 

“Who is it Stevie? Is it work?” 

The discontent in your tone didn’t go by unnoticed. But this phone call had to be dealt with. “No, Princess.” Steve stepped closer and kissed your forehead. “It’s… an old friend. I’ll be back in just a minute, okay?” He kissed your lips briefly and left the kitchen. 

You pouted for a moment but then shook it off. 

Steve went as far away from the open kitchen as he could, just to get out of your hearing range. He had to cross the entire living room to answer the call. Bitterly. 

“What?” He spat at the caller. And he was immediately greeted by a sobbing woman. 

“Just let me talk to her, at least please. She’s my-,” 

Steve cut the crying woman off, like he always did. “She’s your nothing! Nothing, you hear me? She’s mine. Only mine. It’s not my fault you’re a terrible mother who doesn’t care about her daughter’s well-being.” 

He heard more sobbing on the phone. “I didn’t do anything, I just-,” 

He cut her off once again. “Stop lying! You tried to take her away from me!” 

The woman raised her voice. “Because I realized that you’re crazy! I regret the day I met you, the day I let you in my life, in her life. You were a big mistake, and now you won’t even let me talk to my daughter?!” Her anger could be heard despite the tears. “You won’t even let me come home, I can’t even step out of this damn place because your men are everywhere!” 

Steve chuckled. Your mother was abroad, not allowed to come anywhere close to you because… because he didn’t like the thought of having to share your love or attention. You were his. You had him, you didn’t need anyone else. 

“You’re in a luxurious house, with everything one can ever need in it. What are you complaining about? You could’ve been dead, you know? I could have had you killed instead if I wanted to, but I didn’t. You should thank me for that.” 

He received a series of swear words as a reply, which only made him smirk wider. 

“It’s her birthday, Steve. Let me talk to her. I won’t tell her anything about this, please.” The woman begged. 

Steve scoffed. “She doesn’t need you. She has me. Now, don’t ever call here again or I’ll make sure you don’t live to see another day.” He ended the call right in the woman’s face. He carelessly tossed his phone on one of the couches as he walked back into the kitchen. 

You were taking out all the ingredients, weighing them on the scale carefully. You had somehow managed to get some flour on your cheek in the process. Steve smiled, his heart melting at the sight of you. So precious, all his. 

He walked over to where you stood and wrapped his arms around your waist, lowering his head to kiss your exposed shoulder. “Hi Princess.” He murmured, softly. 

You smiled. “Hi.” 

“I love you more than anything, Princess. You know that, right?” He placed another kiss on your skin. 

You turned your head to the side a little, smiling, “I know, you tell me everyday. I love you too, Stevie.” 

-

Midway through, while your cupcakes were in the oven and Steve was getting the icing ready, he noticed a slight frown on your face as you sat on the counter not far from him. 

“What is it, Princess?” He placed the bowl down and stared at you, giving you his undivided attention as always. 

“Hmm?” You looked up at him, “Oh, nothing.” You lied. And he caught it immediately. You were never a good liar. 

Steve walked over to you, stepping in between your legs and placing his hands on your thighs, caressing your skin gently. “Don’t lie to me, Princess. Tell me what you’re thinking about.” 

You looked down at your lap, his hands inching higher and higher up your thigh. You wondered if you should bring it up, because it always upset him. But before you could stop yourself, you were blurting out the words, “I was wondering why my mom didn’t call me today. She did last year. You think she forgot my birthday?” 

Steve was upset for a moment, before being clouded by jealousy and possessiveness. He tried smiling to hide it. “You don’t need her. If she cared, she’d be here right now. Don’t you agree, Princess?” 

You nodded, lowering your eyes, but Steve could tell you didn’t agree. 

“Princess, look at me.” He spoke, you looked up. “You don’t need anyone. You have me, right?” 

You nodded again, more firmly. “I know, Stevie but-,” 

You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence. Steve slid his hand into your hair and tugged on it gently to make sure he had your attention. “Because what, huh? Is my love not enough for you? Am I not enough?” His tone was gentle but bitter. His eyes were glossier than before. Anger, jealousy, it all ate him up on the inside. 

You stared into his eyes, your own watering a little. Oh no, you didn’t want to upset him. “You’re my everything, Stevie.” 

Those words shook his entire being, and he released your hair immediately. He looked down for a moment, sighing loudly. He placed his hands on either side of you on the counter, pressing his forehead to your chest. “You’re mine, Princess.” He whispered as your fingers slid into his hair, massaging his scalp to calm him down. It was working. “You’re mine and you don’t need anyone else.” He whispered. “We don’t need anyone.” 

You spoke up immediately, “I know. I don’t need anyone. I have you.” You felt him kiss his way up your neck soon after. 

“But you’re still thinking about your mother, are you not?” He sounded bitter. “She doesn’t care about you, Princess. She never has, neither did your father. They never cared or loved you like I do.” He said softly, but his jealousy was hard to ignore. 

“I know, Stevie.” 

You couldn’t see his face but you knew he was in a bad mood. He eventually said so himself, “You upset me, Princess.” He murmured then resumed kissing your skin. “I do all this for you, buy you what you want, do everything to keep you happy but it seems I’m not enough.” He whispered against your skin and you shivered at his tone. 

“No Stevie, that’s not-,” 

He shut you up by placing his mouth on yours. He kissed you with all he had in him, pouring out all his emotions - the good and the bad. His hands gripped your hips as he kissed you hard and fiercely, not caring that he was biting your lips carelessly. 

You couldn’t help but gasp into the kiss when he swiftly slid you off the counter and set you down on your feet. Steve pulled away and stared into your eyes with love and anger. “I’m all you need, Princess. Why can’t you just accept that?” 

Before you could say something, he turned you around so your front pressed against the edge of the counter and your back to his torso. You gripped the counter as he grabbed your dress on either side and pulled it up until it bunched around your waist. You felt his mouth at the side of your neck; licking and biting and kissing - making your heart race and that intensified when you heard the sound of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

“I’m gonna show you that I’m enough.” He whispered into your ear. “That I’m all you need, because no one is going to love you as much as I do, Princess.” The sincerity and certainly in his voice sent tingles down your spine. 

You felt him lower your underwear until it reached your ankles. Your heart fluttered and raced all at the same time. You could feel him, pressing against you. His hands on either side of your waist as you pressed the palms of your hands against the cold counter. 

You waited for a moment. Then you felt the tip of his cock press against your folds, slowly rubbing up and down; parting the lips at your entrance. “You’re all mine, Princess.” Steve moaned under his breath as he pushed himself slowly inside of you.

Your grip on the counter grew tighter as you steadied yourself for his thrust, knowing it was coming sooner than you thought. Steadily, Steve filled you up; stretching you all the way like he always did. And he had you whimpering in no time. 

“You belong to me.” He murmured, pushing his face into the crook of your neck. Your mind was foggy as he started rocking into you. Slowly at first, then gradually building up his pace. “Say it.” He demanded. “Tell me you belong to me.” 

You felt all of him. Each time he filled you up entirely, the tip of his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot, and you moaned out loud each time; your walls clenching around him. 

“I’m yours…” you whispered. Your mind was hazy, by him slamming into you. His thrust was animalistic, and rough. Each time he slammed into you, your front crashed against the counter, achingly. But the pleasure his body brought you made up for that.

“Louder.” He growled. “I didn’t hear you.” He taunted, pulling his face away. His hand flew to your hair and he grabbed a fistful of it, and tugged on it; tipping your head back. “I said louder, Princess.” His voice sounded menacing. 

You whimpered as he pounded into your core. His pelvic bone smacking against your ass each time he thrust into you. “I… I’m yours, Stevie” You said, louder like he wanted. 

The sounds of your skin slapping against one another was downright obscene, and the grunts leaving his mouth was even more sinful. You couldn’t see him, yet you knew he looked absolutely, devilishly handsome with his head thrown back, eyes closed, his lips parted as occasional groans escaped his lips. You could imagine him with the frown of pleasure he always had whenever he fucked you. 

“You better remember that, Princess.” He growled into your ear. “You are mine. I love you, and I am the only one you’re allowed to love back. You hear me?” 

You nodded, moaning as he reached every single sensitive spot inside you. You felt a familiar warmth taking over you, and a pressure building in your lower region. You knew you couldn’t hold it any longer. 

And when your walls clenched violently around him, Steve knew you were close as well.

“You’re gonna cum for me, Princess?” he cooed, his voice laced with lust and desire. Seeing you didn’t reply, he tugged on your hair and tilted your head back a little more. He leaned in to kiss your parted lips before pulling away a few inches to spit into your mouth, then leaned in to kiss your swollen lips again. You moaned wantonly as he did. 

“Cum for me.” He slammed his cock harder into you, and your eyes watered. He felt agonizingly good. It didn’t take much for you to come undone after that. Gushing out around his cock, walls pulsating around him; you came, hard.

He did too. With a few strokes against your walls, he came right after you. “All fucking mine.” His warm load shooting inside you, leaving behind his presence as your body shook against the counter.

Carefully, he pulled out. And smiled, satisfied, as he watched how his cum trickled out of you and past your folds. He adjusted his pants and zipped it up. He pulled your underwear up, then finally fixed your dress. 

He leaned in to kiss your cheek. Your back was still against his torso, and his arms were around you. Unable to trust your own body, your hands gripped the counter still. He nuzzled your neck, kissed your skin and moved his lips to your ear. 

“Now tell me, Princess, do you need anyone else? Anyone at all?” He mumbled. 

You shook your head, still hazy. “No, Stevie. You’re all I need. You’re my everything.” You replied, repeating the same words he constantly told you. “I love you.” 

Steve smiled against your skin. “I love you more, Princess.” He added, “Perhaps a little too much.” He meant what he said. 

He didn’t care how many times he’d have to remind you. He would do it as many times as it took, all for you to realize that you belonged to him. There was no one else. No other love, no one else to turn to, nowhere to run. Just him. 

“Now come on, we have cupcakes to ice.” He kissed your cheek before pulling your trembling body away from the counter. 

You smiled up at him. Your Stevie… How could you ever bother about whether anyone else remembered your birthday or not? Stevie was here for you, and he was all you ever needed. He was your everything. You loved him. Only him. 

#steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #mob!steve #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers

[silverechosandblankmasks]

Platonic Polyam Bench Trio Marriage AU

You guys asked, so here I am to deliver! Platonic Polyam Bench Trio marriage au where Tommy marries into Tubbo’s and Ranboo’s platonic marriage. (focus on Tommy lol)

NOTE; These are about the c!characters and not the irl people, and I'm writing this like a poly queerplatonic relationship okay? None of this is intended to be romantic or anything else and anything that is in this list is PLATONIC INTENTIONS ONLY

Edit; Now called the Bench Husbands Au

-It kinda all kicks off when about a week or so after Tommy gets out of Prison. (Note, nothing after the first stream after Tommy gets out is canon in this au, as well as some things before)

-Tubbo and Tommy finally have a small fight and argument, before talking, like really talking and Tubbo invite Tommy to come live with them in the mansion in snowchester once its done.

-Tommy doesn't really want to... but he’s tired and lonely and still scared to death and Tubbo promises he’s safe with them, plus if they lived together they could plan on how to kill Dream easier as well.

-Ranboo doesn't mind but after that he tries to go talk to tommy more, but Tommy isnt... the most receptive? Tommy is suffering still and is feeling very replaced and lonely, but doesn't excuse his kinda snippy behavior with Ranboo

-This finally comes to ahead when Ranboo snaps and calls him out, leading to another small fight, before Tommy apologizes and they also talk. This one is more in depth though and Tommy talks about what happened in exile, in the prison, and just general shitty stuff that's being going on. 

-Ranboo, in turn, talks to him about the voices and Dream’s voice and the sleepwalking and Tommy is very much more concerned about them then anyone else he told was, and validates the fear about it, and resolves to help Ranboo get rid of it somehow.

-After this, and both trying to convince the other they should tell Tubbo, that they both probably need to tell Tubbo. They want to keep him safe and not worry him, but... they both need help in different ways and they both love him enough to not do that to him.

-The night ends with lots of tears, Tubbo admitting his own traumas and tears and what he’s been not saying, and a promise to help each other.

-Its not a while after that actually Ranboo brings up the idea of adding Tommy to their marriage. He can tell the blond is struggling with feeling replaced and low-self esteem, and it would help him feel more equal and loved maybe? Tubbo thinks its a great idea and they go to ask Tommy.

-Tommy’s pretty uppity at first, he believes its just them pitying him and treating him like glass again, which he hates more then anything, but after they calm him down and explain they just want him to feel equal and that they both actually cared for him and wanted him to join in on their thing, he’s more contemplative. Ranboo nervously throws in a few other points, like how for legal reasons it could benefit him like it was for them, their allies had to leave him alone, plus Tubbo only started making his own hotel becuase he wanted Tommy to start interacting with him again, and-

-At this point Tommy just, interrupts and says yes, surprising them. They didn't exactly think he’d say no, but they thought it would be harder then that. He laughs at their expressions and says why not? Plus it stood to reason they’d want Tommy, everyone wanted Tommy.

-Ranboo and Tubbo exchange a look before bullying their now platonic fiancée. They agree to get married as soon as the Mansion is done, and till then Tommy can finish packing his stuff and a few other things he wanted to do.

-Also Tommy is totally not avoiding Michael because every pet he ever got close to has died and he doesn't want to get attached and risk Tubbo and Ranboo losing something they cared about because of him, no siree, why wouldn't you think that?

-Speaking of Michael!

-Its not all that strange to keep undead mobs like Zombie piglins as pets, in fact Zombie Piglins are the probably better undead mob to keep around due to their mostly passiveness if you want a pet and the fact they don't need much to eat and wont really be harmed if out leave them alone for long periods of time

-Though Tommy kinda thinks Tubbo and Ranboo’s insist on treating him like their child is weird, but he’s willing to let them have it, clearly it made them happy to play around

-Isn't until he finally moves in that he realizes that Michael is different then other zombie piglins and finds himself being pulled into the parent dynamic as well

-Though now that he thinks about it, something about Michael seems off… welp it's probably nothing :)

-When the mansion is done, he tears down the dirt shack and makes it a community garden and it becomes one of the only things that stays free of the red vines (who knew watering it with water from the holy land would make it untouchable? It's thanks to this garden later others figure out how to defeat the egg)

-They elect to not have a ceremony, not now at least but Tommy actually thinks a small wedding party would be fun at a later date. Ranboo doesn't mind much if they have one or not but Tubbo is actually very excited about planning it.

-Tommy wears his ring on a necklace most of the time, but occasionally wears it on his fingers, usually when he needs something to fiddle with.

-Ranboo wears his on his tail (the area right before to fluffy part) normally but also wears it on his finger sometimes when he feels like it. (If your version has horns, he also does that too) it just really depends on what he’s feeling and if he’s forgotten where he put it. He also like, never takes it off unless to move it around because he’s afraid to lose it.

-Tubbo wears his as an actual ring on his finger (though if he has horns, sometimes he puts it on one of em if he needs the ring to be off his hand.) Tubbo learned the hard way when building nukes or other machinery (since, if you can believe it, his husbands aren’t that comfortable with the nukes as he is) you can't wield or do high heat stuff while wearing metal and nearly lost his finger. He’s very lucky and he has a small scar from it.

-Each of them have their own rooms so they can have their own space and somewhere to go if they want time to themselves/store their stuff in, but there is a 4th room (directly across from Michaels) where they share and tend to curl up to sleep together. About 5 out of 7 days of the week, some combo of them are cuddling together at night, more if they're having a bad day or nightmares.

-There's multiple bathrooms in the mansion but there's one they all like the best and will fight over it/race to get into it first before the others and the other two will stalk off salty to use a different one

-They're all pretty tactile people but out of them, Tommy is the most tactile (once the fear of being hurt recess he practically attaches himself to the others) and Ranboo is the least (he won't seek out comfort and touch as much as the others unless he needs it, but is the best at telling when the other two need touch or need to be left alone) and Tubbo is in the middle of that.

-Tommy is the one that cooks most of the time, Ranboo is banned from it after The Incident and while Tubbo is okay at cooking, Tommy just knows more recipes and how to make things taste really good.

-Tommy picked up sewing from when he was a kid, even before he was found by Wilbur and adopted by Phil, it was useful to be able to patch the rags he called clothes, and just ended up continuing because his brothers and dad sucked at sewing. It then morphed into full tailoring because he found it relaxing and liked being able to make his own clothes. He can and will be insulted if anyone wears anything he deems ‘ugly’, especially his new husbands. He makes them clothes all the time, specially Michael.

-In fact he also cleans the most, he just gets bored and while he makes a mess, if the house gets to a certain point he gets really uncomfortable and overstimulated, so he cleans.

-DomesticInnit? In my au? More likely then you think!

-Gradually the whole ‘watching the prison’ and ‘planning to kill Dream’ starts to fade as he gets back into the groove of living again and therapy. He’s just… tired of Dream having a hold on everything Tommy does, he’s sick of it. So… he just tries to live these days one step at a time. (Healing arc baby! Dream can die mad UwU)

-Tommy dragged them both to Therapy with him after a while.

-Because of this he finds himself home a lot with Michael, especially if the other two are busy. They’ve pretty much decided that someone has to be home with Michael at all times, which is now 100% more doable with the 3 of them, and Puffy or Foolish babysit if there’s ever time they can't.

-Tommy is a lot less of a hovering helicopter parent then the others and was the one to finally convince them Michael cant live trapped in a room. Yes, they were all worried for his safety but… you can't raise a kid in a cell, even if it's a nice one. Tommy takes Michael out more

-Tommy started to sleep walking again once they moved in and he still gravitates towards water for some reason. Nothing more startling then waking up because you plunged into frigid below 0 temp water while sleepwalking. Ranboo also enderwalks/sleepwalks more as well and there've been some nights where Tubbo has had to track them both sleepily walking around and make sure they don't hurt themselves or drown or something. At least Ranboo is semi-aware when enderwalking and normally just does weird ender things, Tommy likes to apparently walk into oceans or climb the mansion and nearly fall off and wander hundreds of blocks away. Tubbo’s not salty at all, really.

-Sapnap, Quackity, and Karl are 100% salty the benchtrio got platonically married before they got married

-They fight about last names all the time despite none of them actally taking eachothers last name, and if they happen to pick and choose on which one they’re feeling based on mood, well they can do what they want!

-However its agreed Michael’s last name is hyphenated so he’s now ‘Michael Beloved-Underscore-Innit’

These are all I have for now, feel free to ask about it or use my ideas! <3

#dream smp #dsmp #tommyinnit #tubbo #ranboo #bench trio #benchtwt #mine #headcanons #au #my aus #Benchtrio platonic poly marrige au #NOW CALLED; #Bench Husbands AU

[tomurasprincess]

Fairy Ring (Kurogiri x Reader)

Summary: You enter the realm of Faerie despite every instinct telling you not to, in order to save the life of your sick sister. But you make a mistake far greater than you can even imagine when you catch the attention of a truly powerful, dangerous Fae. Pairing: Fae Kurogiri x Reader Rating: Explicit+ Warnings: Fantasy AU. Noncon, dubcon, aphrodisiac, drugging, manipulation, coercion, stalking, yandere. Word Count: 5.5k Note: My entry for the BNHarem Discord collab! The theme this time around was fantasy AU, and I stepped out of my usual characters by trying Kurogiri. The full masterlist can be found here, so make sure you check out the fics from all of  Special Note: Thank you to @thewheezingwyvern for being my fae lore expert, I could not have done it without you. And also for talking me through 7AM induced sleep delirium.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

This is a mistake, you know this. This is, in fact, one of the biggest mistakes you may ever make in your lifetime, assuming that you live past what you’re about to do. But you know that you have no choice. Your sister’s life depends on it. And for her, you would do anything.

And so with a deep breath, you step into the fairy circle. You feel a tugging at the core of your being before white hot agony lances through your bones. You think you scream, but you can’t be sure as you briefly lose consciousness.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

It feels like hours before your eyes open again, but in all likelihood it was mere minutes. It doesn’t take long for you to realize that it worked.

You’re in the Realm of the Fae now.

There’s a sense of unreality, a haze that makes you feel like you’re dreaming. Everything seems too bright, colors that don’t seem like they should exist in the real world, and what looks to be a purple mist covering everything you can see.

You’re standing in an open clearing, right on the edge of a large forest. Behind you, there is a large lake that looks so inviting that you just know something is lurking below the surface, waiting to pull you under, never to be seen again.

The forest doesn’t look much better, trees so close together that it feels claustrophobic, making it very hard to see anything that would approach you. You have no idea what kinds of things might be lurking inside, but this might be your best bet to find the specific plant you need to cure your sister.

And then there is the swamp that you see in the distance. The mud looks thick and deep, as if it would suck you right down into it so that you can do nothing but wait to die. The fog is so dense that you doubt you’d be able to see much beyond the reach of your arm, and in the depths of it you see pretty, flashing lights.

Will-o'-the-wisps, spirits that deliberately lead travelers off the paths to their deaths. If you go into that swamp, you worry you’ll never leave, doomed to wander around without ever finding the path back out.

Before you can come to a decision of where to go, you hear a strange whooshing noise behind you. You turn around to see something totally unexpected. A purple opening rimmed with black around the edges appears in the air as someone steps out of it. A portal, you realize, and so this must be -

He’s a very tall, slender being wearing a well tailored and expensive looking suit. But where a human face and hands should be is a swirling purple mist instead, leaving you no idea of what he looks like underneath. He has piercing yellow eyes that seem to bore right into the very core of your being.

“Welcome, human. May I ask what brings you to Faerie? We have very few of your kind coming here, and even less who come willingly.” The Fae speaks in a perfectly polite tone, but you know that doesn’t mean you can let down your guard. Everything and everyone here needs to be treated as dangerous.

“Greetings,” you nod politely. “I am here for a certain plant that I need to find.”

“Hmm, I may be able to help you find such a plant. What’s your name, human?”

Ah, you think to yourself, the very first trap the Fae intend to set for you. You know what can happen when you give a Fae your true name, and you have no intention of falling for this one.

“You can call me the Seeker.”

The Fae’s eyes seem to glimmer with amusement.  “Cautious, are you? Very well then. I am called Kurogiri.”

He parrots your phrasing back at you, which means that it’s not his true name either, and nothing you can use against him.

“If you don’t wish to deal with me, then by all means, continue.” He takes a simple step away before motioning to the forest. “Were you intending to go into the forest? I wouldn't do that if I were you.”

The fact that he is deliberately leading you into a certain direction makes you reconsider where you intended to go. He notices your hesitance and gives a soft laugh. “I am not leading you astray, human. The forest is treacherous, and that you can be sure of.”

You ponder your options for a brief moment, before deciding to listen. At least with the swamp, you know one of the dangers you’ll face right off the bat. With the forest, there is no way to tell what you’ll stumble across. “I believe I will take the swamp, actually.” You give him a respectful nod as you take a few steps away from him.

“Please, be my guest.” He motions you in the direction of the swamp. You keep him in your sights as you walk past, worried that he’ll attempt something when your back is turned. But he makes no move to follow or stop you, and so you turn your back to him completely as you take your first steps into the swamp.

It’s very slow going, as the muck is so deep that you have to stop to pull your shoes out every few steps. The will o'wisps are hovering around everywhere, looking like delicate, beautiful lights showing you the way out. It’s a deception that you don’t let yourself be lulled into, deliberately choosing the paths where it is darker. Your world narrows down to simply taking a few steps, clawing your way out of the mud, looking for the plant you need, taking a few more steps, over and over. But nothing ever seems to change, and you seem to be getting no deeper into the swamp.

Finally, you can move no further, and so you stop to catch your breath. You’re exhausted, sweaty, and covered in mud and brackish water. You find a nearby tree to lean against and close your eyes for several seconds, trying to take deep breaths in and deep breaths out to calm your racing heart.

But when you open your eyes again, the wisps have surrounded you completely. There is no clear path anymore, the entire swamp cast with brilliant purple light as they fly around the area. You try to think back to the way things looked before you took a break, but everything is hazy in your mind.

You’re lost, with no idea which path to take to get out of this swamp, or even go back the way you came. Picking a random direction sounds like a horrible idea, but standing here and doing nothing sounds even worse. So with a deep breath, you pick a path and start to follow it.

Everything seems fine at first, passing through terrain not as difficult to traverse, but it quickly becomes apparent that this was not the correct way when you hit a patch of deep, thick mud and begin to sink in. You let out a startled shout, trying to claw for purchase, something to stop your head from being pulled under. But there is nothing, no way to get yourself out. Just as only your head and raised arms are visible, you feel something grab your wrist and begin to yank.

The strength behind it is unbelievable, and you’re out within seconds and looking at the face of your rescuer. The Fae Kurogiri is very hard to read, but you think he seems to be laughing at you.

“You seem to have lost your way, little Seeker,” he muses as he raises his arms up. You’re surprised when you feel a solid pressure against your cheek, running down along your jawline to cup your face. “Why not simply give in and make a deal with me? I could tell you where this plant is, easily.”

“And what would your price be?” You stare into those yellow eyes, a challenging tone in your voice.

“That would depend on exactly what you’re willing to give up, now wouldn’t it? Let us leave this swamp and we can discuss price and terms.”

Alarm bells ring in your head at his words. There is something very off about this Fae, something telling you that making a deal with him would be to your detriment. Maybe it’s his overly polite tone that seems to hide darkness underneath. Maybe it’s the fact that he is still gripping your face, pulling you tightly against him in a possessive hold that makes you feel like he never wants to let you go.

He must see your refusal in your expression, because his grip against you tightens imperceptibly before finally releasing you and stepping away. He makes a motion behind you, and you turn to see a portal opening up, with a view of the clearing that you came from on the other side.

You make a move to go through the portal before realizing something. Your backpack that you have been carrying with you this entire time is gone. You glance around quickly in all directions until you see the very top part of it sink completely within the muck that almost did the same to you. All of your supplies were in there, including the most important thing of all.

Your food and water.

Kurogiri lets out a deep chuckle at your panic. “Ahh, I see you lost your supplies. I could help you with that, as well.”

Your eyes meet his yellow ones as you narrow them. “You saw my backpack sinking, didn’t you?”

His silence is answer enough, and you shake your head and turn towards the still open portal. You go through it with him close behind and find yourself exactly where you expected to. Right at the beginning.

Remembering his words about the forest, you glance over at the massive lake and the faint sign of land on the other side. Your instincts scream at you that there is something horrific lurking within the forest, but you also really don’t want to swim.

“Before you go, you may want to hydrate yourself. The lake’s water is poisonous for humans such as yourself to drink.”

He holds a water bottle out towards you, and you simply cross your arms. “You must believe I’m incredibly stupid if you think I intend to drink that.”

“You will not believe me, but I am simply trying to help you. I don’t want to see you injured or wanting for a single thing.”

You glance back down at the bottle of water. It really does look good, you think to yourself. And you realize now how very thirsty you are. Would it be so bad if you took the water? You snap yourself back to reality before you can reach for the bottle, taking several steps back. “That is a kind gesture, but I must decline.”

You’re at the water’s edge now, glancing over to the land you see on the other side. You know of too many dangers that can lurk within bodies of water, and you have all but decided to skip the lake altogether when you see it. A beautiful looking flower on the other side, That could be it, you think to yourself, and it doesn’t look too far to attempt the long way around.

You begin to walk around the shore’s edge, not getting very far before your curiosity gets the better of you. You glance back at the clearing to see if Kurogiri is there or not. But he’s already gone, like he was never standing there at all

You turn back and continue to follow alongside the shoreline, setting a slow but steady pace so as not to wear yourself out. You’re not out of shape by any means, but you still don’t want to push yourself overmuch. As you walk, you try not to discourage yourself by staring at the land you’re heading for.

With the sun beating down on you and sweat pouring from your face, you truly begin to regret the choice of not taking the water Kurogiri offered. It could really be of use right now, with your tongue feeling like sandpaper in your mouth. Even worse, you’re starting to feel dizzy, occasionally stumbling forward before regaining your balance at the last second. Things are still fine, you try to reassure yourself, but you realize the extent of the trouble you’re in when you glance to the other side of the lake. You must have been walking for what feels like hours, and it’s not a single bit closer.

You turn back towards the direction you came from, only to have a moment of horror when you realize that you don’t see it. To that side is nothing but open shoreline as far as you can see. How could the land behind you have disappeared completely? You finally lose your calm, beginning to panic as you start to run, hoping that you’ll reach your destination soon. You only succeed in wearing yourself out even further, forced to stop as you pant for breath.

But that’s when you see the flower from earlier, looking even closer than you thought. That’s it, you think to yourself in elation, that has to be the plant you’re looking for. It isn’t so much farther, you could easily make it. But as you begin to walk again, your head swims even more, going completely hazy. You sway on your feet, barely keeping yourself up. When you open them again, there’s a horse standing by the side of the water.

It wouldn’t be so bad, would it? To ride the horse, get the plant, and then get back to the clearing where you started? It would be so quick, so easy. And then all of this would be over, your sister would be cursed, everything would be fine -

You come to your senses seconds too late to stop yourself from grabbing the horse. Well, not a horse anymore, at least not really.

It’s a Kelpie. Travelers have always been told to avoid Kelpie near the water, so as not to be pulled down into the depths. And you just grabbed onto the back of one.

You try and pull your hand off the creature, but it’s too late. Your hand won’t budge and you have a moment to curse your stupidity before you’re dragged into the water. Despite your best efforts not to panic, you still do, accidentally taking gulps of water into your burning lungs as you jerk and kick in an attempt to get away.

You’re going to drown, you think to yourself as you thrash about in the water, you’re going to drown and there is nothing that you can do about it, all because of your own stupidity -

Just when you think you’re going to drown, everything stops. You’re suddenly laying on solid ground, choking and sputtering as you take gasping breaths. You lay there for a few long minutes, simply gathering your bearings before you glance up at your rescuer. You know who it’s going to be, and you are proven correct as you see Kurogiri’s towering form lowering down beside you. He pets the back of your head, as if you were a dog that needs comforted, and coos soothing words at you.

“You’re okay, my little seeker.” He made a clicking noise with his tongue. “You truly should have known better than to try and ride a Kelpie. I can protect you, you know. Just talk to me for a bit, and I’m sure we can make a mutually beneficial agreement.”

You fly up from the ground, wrenching yourself a bit away from him. “No agreement,” you shake your head. “You want something from me, and I can’t figure out what.”

Kurogiri gives a long sigh. “I tire of this game. Things will go so much better for you if you let me help youl. But don’t misunderstand me. You will make the deal, one way or the other. So you may as well give in to me now, my little human.”

His demeanor has become different than before, more impatient and more annoyed. All of the alarm bells in your head are ringing, and you find yourself running towards the forest before he can say anything else. You are instantly surrounded by thick foliage, and as you glance back into the clearing to see if you’re being followed, the Fae and the portal are both gone.

You push through little by little, making your way deeper into the forest. Occasionally you have to make your way backwards to find another way forward, as the way is blocked by trees or thick vegetation that doesn’t quite look right.

You hope the instinct that you’re being led a particular way is wrong. But you have learned to trust your instincts, especially when it comes to the Fae. So when you emerge suddenly into another open clearing with Sluagh flying around, you’re not overly surprised.

You are, however, terrified.

The Sluagh are well known for their sadism, said to be feared by even Death itself. They are skeletal looking, so thin that there is barely any meat on their bones. What skin they have is dangling and loose, and their legs end in talons with razor sharp claws. Their mouths smile at you, filled with rows and rows of vicious, sharp teeth.

And right now, every single one of them is staring at you like you’re a delicious meal, waiting to be devoured. You know it’s useless to run, as they will find you even more enticing if they are able to chase you down. So you simply stay stock still, waiting to see what the creatures do and desperately hoping that they’ll get bored of you and fly away. But of course, that’s not in the cards for you.

In unison, they let out a shriek that sounds like nails down a chalkboard, causing you to cover your ears in agony. At least five of them rush you at once, and you brace yourself for the pain. But it doesn’t come, as the creatures lock their talons into your clothes instead and begin to lift you into the air.

Fuck, you hiss to yourself, you knew this may be suicidal to go into Faerie. You have faced so many of Faerie’s challenges and only survived by the help of one of them, and you knew it must only be a matter of time before your luck ran out. But you had no idea it would end this way, to be lifted up and dashed on the hard ground below. You squeeze your eyes closed when you feel them let you go, and you brace for an impact that never comes.  Instead, you hear the distinctive whooshing sound before and fall into the arms of Kurogiri.

“I did tell you not to go that way, didn’t I?” His voice has a dark amusement to it, and you realize instantly that he knew the Sluagh were there and didn’t think to warn you directly.

“Yes, you did. And your assistance is appreciated,” you say carefully, fully aware that this is yet another trap. You never tell one of the Fae thank you, as they can take that to mean any number of things you’re suddenly obligated to do for them.

“You are welcome, my little seeker,” he chuckles to himself, sounding every bit like he knows exactly what you’re doing. “Will you accept my deal now? I can help your sister if you would only allow me.”

You squirm a bit in his arms, fully hoping that he gets the hint and puts you down, but he squeezes down as if he never wants to let you go. The thought worries you, there is one thing that worries you even more.

He knows the plant is to cure your sister. And you never gave him that information.

“I - I will think about it, if you’ll kindly let me go - “

“Ah, of course.” He sets you down on your own feet, and you finally get a chance to look around. He teleported you back into the same clearing where you started from and keep managing to return to. “Now, about the deal -”

Before he can finish his sentence, you are running in the only direction that you have yet to try. It’s another smaller section of forest that you hadn’t considered because it looked impenetrable. But now you see a way to enter, and you flee there without glancing back. The trees there seem to suck you in, darkness enveloping you. You wonder if he’s still somehow watching you before shaking the idea from your head. That way lie madness, and right now you must run, must hide.

You don’t know how long you run, only that your legs almost like rubber, barely able to carry you anymore. Your breath comes out in gasping pants as your lungs struggle to take in more oxygen. And your head is spinning, most likely from your lack of food.

Just as you’re about to reach your limit, you spot a large, wrought iron gate and a large house beyond. You don’t have any time to consider the implications before you’re rushing through the gate, stopping only long enough to lock it before you reach for your last resort. You’re not sure why there’s an iron gate here, as iron is one of the things that the Fae are joined together in their hatred of. But right not, you don’t care as long as it can protect you.

Just as you suspected, Kurogiri portals to the location just outside of where you stand. But rather than be deterred by the iron, he lets out a loud chuckle as he continues to walk to the gate. Your eyes widen as he gets closer and closer, a sense of deep unease crawling up your spine.

The Fae hate iron, you tell yourself, he’s simply bluffing, he’s not going to be able to get past the gate. And then the lock simply drops away, as if it’s nothing. The gates slowly slide open as he walks through, and there seems to be a look of true admiration in his eyes.

“That was a very good try, my little human. But ultimately, you lose our game.”

It all clicks into place at once. “You - you’re a dullahan,” you whisper in fear. The dullahan are widely feared, and for good reason. They are harbingers of death, and it is said that when they stop, a mortal dies.

“Yes, I am. And now there is nowhere for you to run. Simply give in to me”

You realize you have one single card left to play, and if this doesn’t work, then you are done for. You reach into your back pocket where you stowed your ring before entering the swamp earlier. You hold it up to him to see, and smile when you see him recoil from the gold metal. You turn and begin running again while he’s distracted, only to run face first into a portal he opened back up.

When you fall out of this portal, you are no longer in Faerie. It looks like home, just as when you left it before. Nothing appears different, except for one big thing. Your sister is out of bed, looking like she’s never been sick a day in her life.

“Is that - sis, is that really you?” You whisper in shock at seeing your sister, healthy and happy before you.

Your sister gives you a warm smile as she holds her arms out for you, just like she always did when you were kids. You grin and run into them, giving her a tight hug that you don’t ever want to be let out of.

“I don’t understand, I didn’t actually make a deal.”

Your sister gives her characteristic shrug. “I don’t know either, I just know that I felt something really warm come over my body, and suddenly I felt better.”

It must be Kurogiri’s doing, you think to yourself. You have no idea what you did to earn this, or maybe it was just that he was impressed you beat him at his own game? Either way, you won’t take it for granted. “How long have I been gone?”

“Too long. I was so worried about you, I didn’t think you’d ever come back.” She pulls you into another hug, and you smile as you run your hand down the back of her head. The moment is ruined by the sound of your stomach growling, causing you both to laugh. “Bit hungry, there?” She teases you, and you simply grin.

“Yeah, I ran out of the supplies I took to Faerie and then I lost my whole backpack. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had anything, to be honest.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get you something!” Your sister runs off the kitchen to grab you some food. “Um, I’m sorry that we don’t have much, but -”

“I know, you haven’t been able to go to the store without me. It’s okay!” You take the simple sandwich she offers you, wasting no time at all before you’re devouring it. You didn’t realize how truly hungry you were until right this second. And this is easily the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted. You freeze, blood running cold as you hear an amused chuckle from beside you, where your sister was just standing. A decidedly male chuckle.

You look down at the mostly eaten sandwich as you begin to tremble, dawning horror hitting you like a freight train. Beside you, what you thought was your sister has turned into Kurogiri. What you thought was your home has turned into that same damnable clearing.

Despite your best efforts, you were tricked after all. You never truly left Faerie.

And you just ate fairy fruit.

He pulls your trembling body tightly into his as he runs a hand down the small of your back. “My little seeker, don’t feel too bad about this. You did a rather good job of avoiding my tricks. I had to resort to more extreme measures.”

A tear runs down your face as he strokes your body. Forcing you to eat fairy fruit means that you’re trapped here with him now, forever. Completely defeated, you numbly allow him to lead you through the newly open portal, taking you to the house with the large gates. The place where you believed you won this little game, only to realize that he was always one step ahead of you.

“But the gold -,” you whisper, “I had the gold, why didn’t that work?”

He laughs a bit as he kisses you. You’re surprised that he’s able to, but you assume he must have some form of human body underneath the mist. “Not all myths are true, little seeker.”

He takes you into the house, leading you down several corridors until you reach a bedroom. He leads you in, shutting the door behind him. You have only a second to worry before he’s on you. Lips run down your neck as hands come down to grip your ass. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you, how long I’ve planned this.”

He rips your clothes off easily, piece by piece, until you’re shivering and naked before him. He lays you down on the bed, sliding his tongue skillfully into your mouth and massaging yours with his own. His hands aren’t idle either, tracing up and down your body in featherlight touches that has you writhing.

Everything seems almost dreamy, and you feel very warm. Overly warm, in fact, and it only increases the more he touches you. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your head spinning. You wonder briefly what he did to you, if it was the faerie fruit you ate.

“What did you do to me,” you whine as you continue to squirm on the bed, fire raging through your veins. “I feel - god I feel so hot, make it stop.”

But when his tongue licks up your heated, dripping pussy, you realize that it really doesn’t matter what the answer to that question is. You throw your head back and moan as you try to grind down on his tongue, and you feel rather than hear his laughter as it sends pleasurable vibrations against your throbbing clit.

“Don’t you want me to make you feel good?” He slips two fingers inside of you, curling them upwards and grazing against a spot inside you that has you throwing your head back onto the pillow.

“Yes,” you whimper, sounding more needy than you ever have in your life, “please make me feel good.”

“Your name then, little human. I can’t very well pleasure someone whose name I do not know, wouldn’t you say?”

“But what about yours?”

“You give me yours first,” he sounds so imminently reasonable that you give him a blissed out smile as you nod your head. You make a come hither motion with your index finger and he leans in closer as you whisper your name in his ear, and he gives a contented laugh as he works his fingers inside of you again.

“You didn’t tell me yours,” you whine a bit in protest.

“Mmm, I am Kurogiri, remember?”

You do remember him saying that, but you also remember not believing that to be his true name. But that part seems less important than him working his fingers inside again, and you let out a small gasp as you clench down, only to be left feeling empty when he completely withdraws. You’re about to complain when you hear him unbuckling his belt.

“I would much rather feel you cum around this cock,” he whispers as he sinks into your aching pussy, filling you up completely when he bottoms out inside. You let out a deep groan at the stretch, and the burning sensation you’ve been feeling since you ate the fruit abates just a bit.

And then he begins to move, and desire flares back up inside you. It doesn’t take long for your muscles to tense up, toes curling as you squeal when your orgasm overtakes you. “So sensitive,” he whispers as he simply fucks you through it, groaning when he feels you clamp down around him. “And so needy for me. It makes me want to keep you like this all the time, my pet. Would you like that?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant as you feel another orgasm building up, “Kurogiri, please keep fucking me, it feels so good.”

”My good little pet,” he grabs your hand and guides it to your throbbing clit. “Stroke that clit for me.”

You instantly obey, moaning loudly as you begin to rub tight circles on the swollen bead. You clench down around him as you cum again, liquid gushing out to soak the bed beneath you. His movements slow as he reaches his own end, filling you up with hot ropes of cum before instantly getting hard as he begins to fucki you again.

You lose all sense of time, only aware of the burning desire, and the twitching and thrusting of Kurogiri’s cock as he fills you up again and again. You can’t seem to stop cumming either, pushed beyond your limits and blissed out until finally all you can do is lay there and take it as he continues to ravage you.

Finally it’s over, and he collapses beside you as he pulls your back into his chest. “My precious little pet,” he whispers into the back of your neck. “I worked so hard to get you where you are now, into the realm of Fae where I could claim you.”

“And now you’re mine. Forever.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Tags: @ichor-and-symbiosis, @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @ttamaki, @lildreamer93, @kittygonyan, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @daedaep69, @heyybrittannia, @groovydreamertrash, @hisoknen, @chou-maitresse, @shoutogepi, @togasknifes, @kingtamakimurder, @shigaraki-is-my-master, @kittycatkrissa, @dabilove27​, @fae-father, @anxietyplusultra​, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock​, @yumeneji​, @reinawritesbnha​m @sawamooora​, @yanderart​

#kurogiri x reader #kurogiri smut #yandere kurogiri #mha x reader #mha smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #yandere bnha #yandere mha #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: kidnapping #tw: aphrodisiac #tw: drugging #bnharem collab

[cursed-jujutsu-san]

[Prologue] My little cursed demon  - Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

So this idea came to me when I was listening to some music.... that’s it to be fair... I also wanted to try my hand at writing some gore! I’ve still not thought through everything in this story so I hope you can forgive me for any mistakes

Here’s the song, I’d recommend headphones but make sure its on a low volume as its a song with loud noises + soundtrack, I think it already has English subtitles so you don’t have to worry about that!

https://youtu.be/nAeAoDizVmw

This is set when Sukuna was in his prime - or at least just this chapter 

Oh! through out this series I will most likely go with pronouns most comfortable to me, which is female, however I will most likely edit it so everyone can read! This prologue I’ve purposely left being quite gender-neutral, so everyone can read ^-^

Italics = Reader’s thoughts 

Bold Italics = Sukuna’s thoughts

Characters: Sukuna Ryomen, You (aka. Reader), Lady Akari - a generic maniac character

Form: Prologue - multiple chapters

Word count: 1487 words

Warnings: Gore, slight torture, character death, lots of character death Cannibalism etc.

You hadn’t known why you were taken - nor were you going to be given the pleasure of having that knowledge - hands bound tightly in rope that bit deeply into your skin, a blindfold that laid thickly and hotly bound your vision to darkness. You hadn’t known why you were taken…

A low hum of talking, an echoing laugh and low whimpers swarmed your ears.  

 Harshly, you were thrust to your knees and the blindfold ripped off.  It took a moment for your eyes to adjust, a gasp trapped itself within your throat.

You were in an open aired room, its shadows long and uninviting as the forms of monsters mingled. Low lit lanterns fluttered uselessly and didn’t bring much comfort but what scared you the most was the many broken forms of tortured humans. Their blood stained the floor. A limbless man twitched uselessly as his form was dragged past you and lifted onto a spit, you could only advert your eyes at his dry sob

  Your family weren’t special; nothing more than a simple clan that dealt with clothing, a long line of tailors, so why were your family taken?

Why?

It started with one of your little sisters. Her form stripped and bound in metal and rope to a blood-soaked wooden table, the prior person’s blood still dripping and pooling.

Why? Oh gods why her...

 Her sobs crushed you as the scantily clad lady arranged her tools with a hum. The monsters laughed at her struggles yet the man with four arms didn’t even turn from the woman at his side, his voice low and hands wandering.

Yet your attention was snapped back to your young sister.

“Hello there little one,” Lady cooed, a hand gripping some sort of knife as her other held your sister’s cheeks together “My name’s Akari! And you’re going to be tonight’s entertainment ok? Make sure to give me lots of pretty screams~”

 Your sister whimpered

 Your family cried and sobbed

 You tugged at your restraints and were rewarded by a swift kick to your back, the creatures behind you sniggering at your misfortunes.

The knife was lifted, your sister trying helplessly to pull away and you did what you felt had to be done.

 “WAIT!”

 Everything went silent. Now all eyes were on you now, you gulped before standing tugging gently on your restraints before looking at the lady.

 “I want to make a deal with you” you stated, voice only wobbling slightly as you became aware of the four-armed man’s gaze on you “My life for my family’s”

 Akari Laughed. It bounced through the space before cutting off abruptly at a deep rumbling purr of a laugh. The four-armed man.

 His gaze penetrated deep into you; a shiver ran up your spine as with a flick of his wrist two of those things cut your sisters bounds and you were tugged across the room towards his stair based throne. Your knees hit stone and you hissed at the coldness of it, a clawed hand tugged at your chin. You would have been mesmerised by the handsomeness of his face if he’s features hadn’t been carved from wickedness, all of his eyes stared into you as another one of his hands tugged at your clothing, amusement danced in his eyes and something else that you couldn’t quite place your finger on and your not too sure that you wanted to either

 “Alright then little one,” he purred with a voice like a honeyed blade “You’ve caught my attention, amuse me and your family lives….”

 And with a firm push you were winded at the bottom of his stairs. Your form already being pulled up to the table and stripped of clothing as a blades were pushed into your open palms, your breathe had hardly come back and your torture was already taking away your ability to breathe.

Cut upon cut

Your innocent blood was being spilt upon cursed floors for cursed eyes

Your flesh was pierced beyond what you’d expected to last with, but it was for your family, the more you cried and screamed the safer your family was. The more you put on a show the more entertainment you brought him…

 Time lost its meaning after your fingers were cut off…

  How long had you been here? You didn’t really care anymore. Hours merged into hours with no sign of the sun rising or the torture stopping.

Your hands weren’t even bound anymore, arms having been released and fallen limp at your sides, none of your body was bound.

A giggle brought you out of your haze, languidly blinking up at her you focused in on her smile, so sweet, so sickly sweet and gentle…

 How Disgusting

 “You poor thing,” She murmured, a perfect hand running up your bare thigh as a perfect smile graced her lips as her lords continued to watch

 Revolting

 Your gaze drifted, past hers to the Scarlett of the man hidden in the shadows, she turned to follow and something malicious filled her gaze before she turned back to you.

She leaned in, blood tinted locks tickling along the cuts of your cheek and her hands resting lightly on your bare shoulder, her voice now nothing more than a whisper

“..Would you like me to end this? All you have to do is go back on that deal of yours…”

 Disgusting

 Anger filled you gut again as her hand traced shapes into your ruined thigh, her fingers worming their way into your flesh and wiggling experimentally against ruined muscle and veins

 Your revolting

 The anger felt hot within you as it slowly crept up your body and laid heavily upon your tongue

 Just die already

 You couldn’t take anymore of her waffling. Why was she still speaking? Your blooded hand clutched tightly onto the back of her head as you smiled serenely

 I curse you….

 “Huh?”

 Her voice wavered

 I…

 The scarlet eyed man smiled wickedly at you, watching your lips form words as your body continued dying.

Your torturer dragged you up into a standing position. Your arms now looked loosely around her shoulders, your lips brushed the shell of her ear, like she was your friend or worse, a lover.

You smiled.

The man leaned forward,

 “…curse you”

 Your smile turned into a snarl; voice turning darker as she pulled back, form swaying without the support of her

 “I curse you, I curse you , I curse you, I curse you,” voice holding a psychotic quality as you raised it even more, eyes once haze now filled with disgust and hatred “I  curse you….”

 You forced your broken body to walk, her form quivering in what seemed to be anticipation as your soft footsteps left bloodied trails to where she sat fallen at the base of her Scarlett eyed lord, his attention now fully on you.

Softly raising a hand to her face, you enjoyed the way she flinched into your touch, you paid no mind to the fumbling of her hands, far too taken by memorising her face.

 “I curse you to know the fate of cannibalism,” You murmured sweetly “You’ll continue to eat my flesh and even if you die….”

Her knife dug deeply into your stomach; blade tearing through your flesh easily as your organs slipped out seamlessly, your blood coating your skin in a hot flash of red that flowed warmly

 “Even if you die… you can’t undo this demon’s curse, neither can your clan…”

 You giggled as you looked up, your hazy eyes focusing and un-focusing on things that you now couldn’t tell if they were actually there or not and as you collapsed upon the cold stone and you voice slipped into something more akin to a sleepy tone you continued to giggle,

 “And only through the worshipping of me will it stop your hunger….I curse you, I curse you, I curse you…”

 You died with a malevolent smile on your lips.

  Sukuna looked on at your corpse, taking in your ruined beauty, as your innocent blood ran rivets. Your voice and curse echoing beautifully in his ears, you amused him far longer than anticipated, his gaze swept to his entertainer Akari, her form shaking with a mixture of arousal and fear as she picked up your mutilated organs,

 How amusing

 As he ate your flesh, your flavour burst on his tongue, anger and hatred and a familiar malice coated your still warm meat.  A slow thick boredom seeped back into him, your family sobbed quietly to the side of what once was your stage, he was a curse of his word, your family was released.

You were brilliant. Wonderful. So entertaining, a shame that you died. You entertained him for so long and filled his stomach, a twisted smile crossed his face at the thought of finding you – or at least someone like you – again.

 How amusing a demon you were…

#sukuna ryoumen x reader #Sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jjk sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna x y/n #jjk x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

Could I request an Asmo angst with fluff fic where MC is feeling insecure and questioning why Asmo loves them and Asmo comforts them? If you feel comfortable writing for him, of course, I know you said that you mainly write for Mammon and Levi 😁

Thank you for sending this request. ❤️ This is my first time writing a full length story for Asmo, but I think I did a pretty good job of capturing his personality. Please let me know what you think. ❤️

Perfect

Asmodeus x gn!MC

Words - 1724

Content warnings - some angst, lots of comfort and fluff

Prompt/Inspiration - anonymous request

Summary - Asmo asks you to be his date to a ball at Diavolo’s Castle, but you have some doubts about why he wants to be with you at all.

AO3

This had been such a stupid idea. Really stupid. How had you ever let him talk you into this? You should have seen this coming from a mile away. Or perhaps you did. Perhaps you knew exactly how this would all play out when he invited you to this ball, but decided to push those thoughts aside and keep living in your fantasy world for just a little longer.

You had stepped aside for just a moment to get a drink. And one moment was all it took. When you turned back around, there was Asmodeus just as you had left him. But as you took another step closer you saw that he was not alone. In fact, he was surrounded by a small group of very handsome demons, of all genders.

If he had been just talking, you don’t think you would have minded as much. At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. But he wasn’t just talking. He was laughing and smiling with his charm dialed up to 11. Everyone was mesmerized by him. And who could blame them?

You had never met someone as beautiful as Asmodeus. And it wasn’t just his beauty that drew people to him, though he always seemed to think that it was. He was attentive, thoughtful, considerate. If you needed something, he always seemed to know before even you did. Whether that was a new bottle of shampoo or a hug, he always knew. He pampered you and spoiled you, and you did the same for him. Hour long baths where the two of you take turns washing one another’s hair and massaging away all the day's stress weren’t uncommon. And you frequently fell asleep in his bed just so you could feel his fingers running through your hair in the morning.

But none of that seemed to matter right now. Right now all you could see was Asmo surrounded by a group of beautiful demons. And he just looked like he belonged there. You looked down at your own clothes, the exquisite, tailored outfit that Asmo had picked out just for you. It had seemed like such a good idea to let him dress you up. But all you could think about in that moment was how utterly foolish you felt. Lipstick on a pig, you thought.

And so you excused yourself, slipping into one of the many empty rooms that lined the halls of Diavolo’s castle. You didn’t want to let yourself cry here. You knew it didn’t matter how quiet you tried to be, someone would hear you. Probably Mammon, in which case all hell was sure to break loose when he’d turn on his brother for leaving you all alone like that. But it wasn’t Asmo’s fault. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was simply being himself. His wonderful, perfect, sweet self. So you choked back your sobs, desperate to remain hidden.

Why had Asmodeus even brought you here anyways? Why did he insist on you being his date? He could have chosen from any number of demons. So why did he choose you? There wasn’t anything particularly remarkable about you. You didn’t have any special skills. You could sing a little, but who couldn’t? You could draw decently enough, but what did that matter? You didn’t excel at anything. You were plain. Simple. Ordinary.

And he was all the things you weren’t.

As your thoughts continued to turn darker and darker, you didn’t notice when a slender figure slipped into the room. You didn’t see them sit down beside you. And you weren’t expecting it at all when you suddenly found their arms wrapped around you. But as soon as you were in their embrace you knew exactly who it was.

“Why are you all alone here?” Asmodeus whispered into your ear.

“Oh just a bit tired I guess. All that dancing got the better of me. You know, being a human and all. Looks like I just can’t keep up.” You tried to laugh it off and make excuses for yourself. You didn’t want him to worry. You didn’t want him to feel guilty. There was no reason he should feel guilty when the problem lay entirely with you.

“Sweetie, you know you can’t lie to me. Tell me what’s wrong, hmm?” Asmo gently cupped your cheek with one hand and turned you to face him. You averted your eyes and refused to look directly at him, but you could still feel him staring at you, which only made you blush in shame. What were you even supposed to say to him? How could you possibly explain?

“I...I...um…” as you struggled to answer, Asmo rubbed your back soothingly. Gentle circles to help coax your troubles from you. He hated seeing you cry. The sight always broke his heart. He tried so hard to keep you smiling and to make your life as peaceful as possible. He happily would have pampered you all day every day if you let him, but you always insisted on returning his affection with your own. And he adored that about you.

Asmodeus had received plenty of gifts over the centuries. And more than enough attention. But it was always for some purpose. There was always a reason behind their actions. From simple things to just wanting him to pay attention to them, to more calculating things like trying to win his favor.

He wasn’t used to people doing things for him for no other reason than to make him smile. But you did. You were so completely selfless. You weren’t scheming or plotting when you’d give him a gift or pay him a compliment. You were sincere. Genuine. You told him he looked beautiful, because you truly believed it. You said you loved him, because he made your heart soar. You hugged him often, because you wanted to make sure he knew he wasn’t alone.

“It’s ok dear, just take your time. I’ll listen.”

“I um...I just felt...out of place. Like I didn’t belong. Social anxiety I guess.”

Asmo knew what you looked like when you were anxious because there were too many people or too much noise, and that didn’t look like this at all. This was something deeper. Something that had taken root deep inside your heart and wouldn’t be fixed by a simple change of scenery.

“But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?” he said, keeping his voice low and soft.

“Yeah…”

“Go on.”

“...why did you choose me?”

“Choose you?”

“For your date. For this Ball. For anything really. I just can’t figure it out. And I...I look around and all I can see are the amazing people, well demons, that you know...and I’m just...I’m just not…” your voice broke off as you pulled away from Asmo’s hand and buried your face into your arms again.

Asmodeus wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He always told you how wonderful he thought you were...did you not believe him? Did you think he was just buttering you up to get something from you?

“So you think I’ve just been...lying to you this whole time?”, he asked.

“No! no! Of course not!” you almost shouted, as you snapped your head up to look at Asmo. How could he say that? That’s not what you meant at all.

“I just...when we are alone, it’s easy. It’s just us. But when we are out, like now, it’s...it’s hard…I feel like I’m the odd one out and I can’t figure out why you want to spend time with me in the first place. And I just keep waiting for the day when you finally figure out just how boring and plain and useless I am. You might not realize it now. But you will.”

“What makes you think I don’t already know?”

“What…” tears started to gather in your eyes again. Had he really already figured it out? Was this it? He was finally tired of babying you?

“Don’t look at me like that. That’s not what I meant,” Asmo replied, his smile gentle and kind, “I mean I know what those things are that you think you lack. I already know what you think are your flaws.

I don’t see them that way, though. I know I say all the time that I’m the most beautiful being in existence...but do you want to know the truth?

I think you’re far more beautiful than I am. Your soul shines brighter than any I’ve ever seen. You’re kind, and honest, and selfless.” Asmo leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“And you want to know something else?”, he asked, cupping your cheek again, wiping your fresh tears away with his thumb. You nodded slowly, unable to form the words needed to answer him.

“You see me. Really see me. You don’t get distracted by my looks. You aren’t affected by my charm. You just make me feel seen. Really and truly, seen. And no one has ever done that before. And I doubt anyone ever will again.

You might think you’re plain, or boring, but I don’t see it that way. There is no one else I’d rather spend my time with. No one else better suited to be at my side.”

By now you were crying hard, your vision so blurry with tears you couldn’t even make out Asmo’s face even though he was right in front of you. All you could do was reach towards him and let him pull you into a hug, tucking your head under his chin. Just a moment ago you were trapped so deeply in your own thoughts you regret ever leaving the house. But now? You were the happiest being in all three realms. You had someone who understood you and knew all the right things to say. You had never felt more loved than you did in that moment.

Asmodeus gently held you as you cried the last of your tears. And when your breathing had finally calmed, he spoke again.

“Now what do you say we go get you cleaned up so I can show everyone just how lovely my date is and what a perfect couple we are?”

You gave Asmo a small laugh as you pulled away, looking him in the eyes, a warm smile spreading across your lips.

“Yeah, I would like that.”

#anon request #request #gn!mc #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me asmo #asmo x mc #obey me comfort #obey me angst #obey me fanfic #asmo comfort #asmo angst #asmo fanfic

[smut-office]

come back to me | k.th

Genre: smut, angst, fluff if you squint

Pairing: taehyung x reader

Word count: 12k

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of suicidal thoughts, minor blood, sexual themes, oral (f receiving), penetration, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praising

Snippet: To see you cry hurt the deepest part of his being, he wanted to kiss away the tears and take you somewhere you would never be upset. Where you would only smile and laugh. But he couldn’t, he told himself. Because here you were, still crying, and his hands were void of the worlds he wanted to give to you.

Note: hey guys! This is my first story on the app and I hope you guys like it. Please go easy on me haha :) - Miko

The pristine marble ballroom twinkled under the lights, filled to the brim with elaborate decorations and equally as flawless guests. Men wore cleanly pressed suits, and women wore intricately designed dresses tailored to fit their every curve.

Oh, how you didn’t belong here.

You continued to stand in the doorway, halted out of sheer fear. It was a rare occurrence for someone to catch you at one of the many formal gatherings held in your cousin’s hotel, and everyone in the city’s high class knew that. So when you caught the eye of just one person, word spread across the hall in a matter of minutes. Suddenly you felt trapped in such a large room. The dress you wore was (too) extravagant, your mother insisting you wear it. The delicate grey lace neckline dipped dangerously far underneath your collarbones while the slit started far too high up your leg. Dresses like these were supposed to make women feel confident and sexy, but you just want to find the nearest pair of sweatpants.

You only gathered your senses when someone spoke your name, and you immediately turned upon hearing the familiar voice in a sea of unknown faces.

“Baekhyun,” you voiced calmly, a small, genuine smile creeping onto your face. You had always felt bad for not showing up to his events, after receiving invite after invite, but he understood you better than anyone. You were sure he knew just how uncomfortable you felt being there.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” he said, standing directly in front of you in hopes of blocking some view of you from the crowd. Their analyzing gazes crawled across your skin, and you could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks.

“Of course,” you replied, fighting down the embarrassment threatening to burst. Beakhyun’s smile downturned slightly, only enough for you to notice. “Please, go tend to your other guests,” you insisted, finally moving from the spot you’d been standing at. You were sure your feet had grown roots by now. Baekhyun lowered his head respectfully, but as he turned you could see the flash of worry glazing over his eyes. And just like that, you were alone once again.

Unbeknownst to you, a person of memories and a reminder of your past was paying very close attention to you. His eyes watched your every move and his heart reacted in strange ways. Kim Taehyung. Your mere presence engulfed the whole place and all of its inhabitants. Everyone couldn’t get enough of the mysterious golden girl. Some scoffed, mistaking your absences as entitlement. Some women envied or admired the beauty and elegance you eluded. Some men couldn’t tear their eyes away even if they tried.

From the moment you stepped foot in the entrance Taehyung could feel you. And when his head snapped around to the double doors and his eyes landed on you, he was hit with everything he had left behind and everything he had taken with him. The regret. The guilt. The love.

Everyone else in the room seemed to fade away, every beam of light in the room landed on you, leaving him in the dark black void he returned to every time he thought of you. He went back to a place he would go when he missed your voice, your smile, your laugh, and the way you made him feel. Soon he couldn’t take it anymore, and he discretely avoided your path to the side exit and made it to a bathroom down the long hallway. He managed to get there without being spotted in his wrecked state, and he appreciated the small blessings.

His knuckles faded to white as he gripped the marble counter, his breath ragged and labored. His matted bangs curled to stick to his sweaty forehead, and his body hunched over with his head hanging low. He hadn’t seen you in three years, but he had no one to blame but himself. The days he’d planned to give you space turned into weeks. The weeks turned into months, the months turned into a year, and after a while his heart grew numb from the longing.

But seeing you for the first time, after so long, planted the seeds of sorrow back into his cold heart. And there was nothing he could do about it. Because you had no idea what he’d done.

He finally released his grip on the counter to turn the sink on, splashing the water carelessly across his face. He watched as tiny droplets fell down from the tips of his hair strands, and he found calm in watching them mix with the whirlpool of water racing down the drain. He turned his gaze forwards finding his own distressed reflection staring back at him.

Thankfully he didn’t get his suit wet, and he did feel immensely better as he unlocked the door and reentered the high ceilings of the hotel hallway. Taehyung briskly checked his watch and found the night was still young, and he quickly designed a plan to keep himself together so he could last at least the rest of the party. But things don’t always go according to plan.

He was only five feet away from the double doors when they suddenly burst open and someone came stumbling out. You stood there, dress ruined with a large stain of expensive wine, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. Taehyung’s first instinct despite everything he had told himself not to do was to reach out and grab your arm, ultimately grabbing your attention as well. Your eyes met his, the deep, dark holes you had spent many nights trying to understand, and new tears welled up inside your eyes. A flurry of too many emotions began to fill your fragile state of mind and you couldn’t find the strength to snatch yourself away from his touch like you wanted to. Instead, you allowed Taehyung to take your hand and lead you away from the open doorway and whispers of pity and shame.

He didn’t ask any questions, nor did he say anything for that matter. He only led you past a door to an empty fire escape staircase. Your heels echoed on the concrete floor as he ushered you to sit on the bottom of the stairs. Taehyung bent his large frame to kneel in front of you, his concerned eyes level with your teary ones. Taehyung had to push down the urge to wipe your tears away. It was too soon, and he had no right to do so. He didn’t, though, refrain from questioning any longer.

“Y/n, what happened?” The way your name rolled off his tongue cloaked your mind in the warmth you had grown fond of long before, and you selfishly allowed yourself to give into the comfort it brought.

“S-she did it. I knew her boundaries were few and far between, but—she embarrassed me. In front of everyone.” You sobbed, pressing your head into your hands to try and suppress your tears. Taehyung stayed silent for a moment, but you both knew he knew exactly who you were talking about.

Yuna. She used to be your best friend. When you guys were young children, you would never want to leave each other’s side. Then one night, the night of your eighteenth birthday, she suddenly grew cold and distant towards you and seemed to want to ruin your life. To this day you never knew why, but Taehyung did. And he never had the courage to tell you.

The night of your eighteenth birthday, a time when Yuna was convinced she loved Taehyung, she caught him on a balcony alone and decided to finally confess how she felt. She approached Taehyung, strutting towards him and flashing her signature smile. After her confession, which was quick and straight to the point, Taehyung had honestly been caught off guard. But he was never one to sugar coat, and he had to make sure he got the point across. He didn’t know just how big the consequences would be.

“Yuna, I see you as someone who I can say is one of my closest friends, but—I love someone else,”Yuna had felt her heart shatter into millions of pieces, but curiosity still got the best of her.

“Well, the least you could do is tell me who,” Yuna whispered, tears pooling at the edges of her eyes. Taehyung hesitated for a moment. He had never, ever told anyone how he felt about you. But he was impulsive that night. Seeing you in your beautiful dress surrounded by beautiful people, it made him wish he could tell you the next words to come out of his mouth. And maybe he subconsciously replaced Yuna’s face with yours as he said them.

“I love Y/n. I’ve never told anyone, but I always have. She’s the only light in my life, and I’m so scared of losing her that I don’t want to tell her how I really feel,” Yuna, tears truly falling down her face now, felt like she had nothing to say. All this time, all these years of falling over Kim Taehyung, all while he had been loving her best friend.

Ever since then, because she didn’t want to blame the person she still wanted to be with, she blamed you.

And ever since then, watching the way Yuna treated you, Taehyung felt so responsible and guilty that he slipped from your life, thinking it would make the madness end. You had lost your two closest friends in one special night. And you didn’t know why, even three years later.

Taehyung continued to kneel there silently, his fists clenching and unclenching every time he heard you choke up a sob. All he wanted to do was storm back into the dining hall and tear Yuna’s reputation apart thread by thread, but he didn’t want to leave you here alone. He wanted to be by your side in your darkest moments, the shoulder you leaned on while you cried, and most of all, he wanted to be the arms to wrap around you and the voice to convince you everything would be okay.

“Y/n,” Taehyung whispered. You could hear something behind his voice, a gentleness you haven’t heard from him in a long, long time. Your cheeks were stained with tears, your makeup was ruined and your eyes turned puffy from crying. But Taehyung only saw your beauty. In the haze of anger and sadness flowing through his body, he was reminded why he loved you so, so much.

To see you cry hurt the deepest part of his being, he wanted to kiss away the tears and take you somewhere you would never be upset. Where you would only smile and laugh. But he couldn’t, he told himself. Because here you were, still crying, and his hands were void of the worlds he wanted to give you.

Slowly, your tears reduced and you were left with staggered and uneven breathing. You tried to take deep breaths, but then your mind started to stray towards what had happened.

You walked nervously into the den of lions, trying your best to keep yourself calm. You saw a handful of familiar faces, smiling at them politely, before someone suddenly stopped you right in your path.

“Y/n, fancy seeing you here,” she said. You froze.

“Yuna,” you greeted politely, but your nerves were tingling. You had a feeling something bad was going to happen, and that should’ve been your first sign to exit the conversation. Something bad always happened when Yuna was involved these days.

“How’s everything been? You know, because you never come to these things enough for us to catch up,” she said, her voice eerily cheerful and bubbly.

“Everything’s okay,”

“Great! Amazing. Did you know Taehyung is here too?” The question was pretty out of the blue, and it caught you off guard. You hadn’t talked to Taehyung in years. She knew that, too.

“Oh, that’s nic—“

“How could you say that to me?” Yuna screeched suddenly. No one had been listening to your conversation until now, everyone’s heads turned to see what all the commotion was.

“What? Yuna I—“ you were cut off once again when Yuna grabbed a glass of wine from the tall bar table beside her and launched the alcohol right onto your dress. You were stunned for a moment, feeling the wine seep through the expensive material. Your mouth opened wide in shock. You looked to Yuna, seeing she had feigned a look of hurt and offense.

“I was just trying to be nice, and you insult my dress and call me a slut for wearing it? Get out!” She demanded. You could see everything clearly now. This was all just a plan she plotted before she had even approached you.

“Y/n, what’s going on?” Baekhyun approached from behind Yuna, face riddled with confusion. People all around you sent disapproving looks and glances, and you weren’t able to take it anymore. Turning without a word, you rushed to the exit. The whispers and mutters of everyone around you invaded your ears as you walked past, and tears started to form.

You pushed open the doors, and your eyes met with the absolute last person you had wanted to see that very moment. The person who you had loved for such a long time, but no one knew because your best friend at the time felt the same. You were such a good friend that you were willing to give up the one person you wanted, so your best friend could have him.

Recalling the events rehashed the anxiety you had felt, and your eyes flooded with sadness all over again. Taehyung caught this immediately, and he finally threw every doubt and worry he had out the window. Taehyung reached up to cup your cheek with one of his hands, ignoring the fact that it was shaking. You looked down, avoiding eye contact, scared he would see everything you felt if he looked into your eyes. You felt his thumb gently rub the tears away, and it only made you want to cry more.

Why was he being like this? After all this time, all these years of not being part of your life, he suddenly reappears and acts like nothing had changed. He continues to be the loving friend he had been long ago. The one you had grown to love. You were confused, overwhelmed, but most of all you were tired. Your body and mind were exhausted and all you wanted to do was leave and flop onto your bed.

Taehyung continued to wipe away your tears, the hand that was holding yours squeezing tighter. You found yourself subconsciously leaning into the touch of his hand on your cheek, closing your eyes.

Is this what it would’ve felt like if you had been selfish back then? Would you have avoided the endless nights of wondering, what did I do wrong?

For just a couple seconds, you both opened your hearts up for a mere moment before closing them again. You both thought you had nothing more left to lose. You had already lost each other.

“Come on, let me drive you home,” he whispered, trying his best to not make you any more distressed. You finally looked up to meet his eyes again.

“It’s really far. You don’t have to do that,” you reasoned. Your apartment was almost three hours away, just a couple blocks away from your college campus, and you had absolutely no intention of staying at your family’s manor tonight. That was just another reason why you barely came to these extravagant events in the capital city. Taehyung shook his head, insisting he take you home. What was three hours to someone who would follow you to the edge of the world?

——————————

He opened his passenger door for you, letting you settle inside before closing it shut and jogging to the driver’s side. He bought a new car since the last time he had driven you somewhere, but his car still smelt like him. Clean with a hint of something sweet. The leather seats were comfortable and you quickly started to feel your eyes close before you’d even reached the highway on-ramp. You let yourself drift to sleep, mind clearing of all the bad things for just a couple hours as you danced along into dreamland.

Taehyung glanced to his side and saw that you were fast asleep. He missed having you around, your presence always kept him grounded despite everything life threw at him. You were there when his first dog died, you were right beside him cheering when he opened his college acceptance letter from his dream university, and you were there for every single birthday party up until recently.

You were with him when he got the call that his mom died.

It’s funny, he thought. You were the only person he always let into his heart, and you didn’t even know it. Taehyung can’t remember the moment he started loving you. It felt as though for as long as he could remember, you were always the most precious person in his heart. But also from the very beginning, he had encased that part of him, his love for you, in bitter ice. He wanted to protect and save you from the fire inside of him, the fire that engulfed everything and everyone he loved. He had tried so, so hard to shield you, but in the end, he burned you too.

His thoughts ran south, and he desperately fought the tears down. In that moment, every restless, teary night, every call he didn’t make, every conversation he didn’t start, all come flooding back to him. How could you be his world, his everything, and he still managed to fuck it all up.

——————————

“Y/n, y/n we’re here,” Taehyung spoke softly, kneeling down beside the passenger’s seat he shook your shoulder softly, his touch as gentle as if he were touching glass. You groaned groggily, your head pounding. You slowly opened your eyes and were met with Taehyung’s face dangerously close to yours. The soft fluorescent lights from the building behind him crafted his body in an angelic glow, and you swallowed the feelings bubbling in your chest.

He took your hand and helped you out of the car, closing the door behind you and locking the doors swiftly. Your legs wobbled as you took a couple steps forward, eventually giving out causing you to collapse onto Taehyung’s large frame. He held you upright and steadied the both of you. You mumbled an embarrassed apology, but your head was in excruciating pain.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” You shook your head, not wanting to drag the night out even further. All you wanted to go was make it into your apartment and sleep. Your hands cling onto Taehyung’s jacket, desperately trying to ground yourself. Taehyung took deep breaths, not wanting to carry you and risk dropping you. He also needed you to be able to unlock your door. So, he held you securely to his chest, tangling his fingers in your hair and slowly rubbing the back of your head. Your heart defied your mind and you nuzzled deeper into him, breathing in his comforting scent. Neither of you knew what you were doing, or why you were doing it, but it felt right.

The longer you stood there, wrapped in his arms, the faster your headache began to dissipate to a dull ghost of the pain from before. After what felt like a million years, you finally pulled back a bit to look into his eyes apologetically.

“Taehyung, I’m so sorry. You should go—,” you were cut off by a quiet hush from him, while he looked down at you with a look you couldn’t decipher. It was then you realized you two were still embracing, and your cheeks turned embarrassingly red. Taehyung looked deep into your eyes, prying and picking apart everything in them. For a moment, he saw a flash of appreciation and gratefulness, and that was all he needed. At that moment, he was content. He would have waited a hundred days and nights, as long as you’d known it was him who stayed.

“Are you okay to go upstairs?” He asked gently, the pads of his fingers slowly withdrawing from your hair, but still made sure to support some of your weight. Truth be told, you could walk on your own now. But the feeling of your body pressing against his and the gentle touch on your skin made you never want to leave. The elevator ride was short and quiet, both of you silently cherishing every aspect of your time together, not knowing if things would be the same after that night, or if things could change for you two. After so much time of silence, this was the closest you two had been in what felt like an eternity.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, in those three years, both of you had tried to erase each other from your own minds. Both tried to fabricate your true feelings and convince yourselves to move on. It was a long, rigorous battle, and one that ended in defeat on both sides. This night, a night of unspoken forgiving and forgetting, solidified the assurance in both of your hearts that true love never fades. That fate and circumstance could bring two souls together, even if only for one night. For Taehyung, and for you, one night was enough to douse the pain away.

The elevator doors opened to the top floors and you led the both of you to the door at the very end of the hallway. You stood there for a moment, hand frozen mid-air with the key grasped in your hand. You only hesitated a moment, but everything felt so right that it would have taken more to convince yourself not to say this.

“Do you want to come in?” You whispered, the anticipation so high that you didn’t even want to look at him. Your eyes stayed focused on the door, and you missed the way Taehyung’s eyes brightened and the corner of his lips curled.

“Please,” he whispered back, and you felt your head flourish with new, uncharted thoughts.

Was this the beginning for you guys? Could things really work out in the end?

With a new found sense of courage, you unlocked your door and opened it. Your apartment was just like you, Taehyung thought. Elegant with splashes of warmth, and if he peered closer, he could find pieces of you in every nook and cranny of the space. He felt happy to be allowed into this private part of your world, but he also felt sadness. He was sad that he let himself miss out on all the memories you had made here. All the things you’d done and accomplished in this mini world you lived in. He was frozen in the doorway, until you entered on your own. He walked in nervously, kicking off his shoes and placing them neatly before closing the door behind him.

The moonlight shone brightly from the large floor to ceiling windows on the far wall, coating your delicate skin with its glow. He could see the tear stains on your cheeks, and his throat clenched. Silently navigating his way through the unfamiliar space proved to be a difficult task, but he managed to find a cup in one of the cupboards and filled it with water and plenty of ice. Just how he knew you preferred it. He rounded the kitchen island and placed the cup onto a coaster sitting on the coffee table in front of you, ultimately deciding to sit a ways apart in one of the armchairs adjacent to the couch. Something was poking his behind, so he pulled out his wallet and placed it on the coffee table as well.

One of your eyes opened, peeking to the man currently inside your apartment. You were a bit surprised to find him already looking at you, and he bashfully looked away and out one of the windows upon getting caught. You continued to stare at him, watching his eyes dart a million different directions as he scanned the city and it’s skyline. A city that was still awake and hosting thousands of other people and partaking in thousands of different stories. Somewhere in that city someone was so amazingly happy, and somewhere in that city someone was getting their heart broken.

“Taehyung,” you murmured, starting to get choked up for no reason. He didn’t turn his head, but you knew he was listening.

“Thank you—for helping me,”

Taehyung smiled. Not a big, ecstatically large smile. It was the smallest grin, but one that held more meaning than any other. His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly before he finally turned to look at you.

“Always,”

As soon as Taehyung said it, a million thoughts and doubts flooded to his head. Was it too much? Would you find out about his feelings? Would he scare you away when he finally found his way back to you? He held his breath in anticipation, keeping his face blank. He was surprised to hear you begin to laugh. It started as an airy chuckle, slowly building up to an adorable giggle that brought heat to his cheeks.

“Have you always been this cheesy?” you teased. Taehyung was flustered for a moment, but his eyes scrunched in amusement very quickly.

“I’m not the one blushing, y/n,” You immediately stopped laughing, and it was his turn to laugh. His laugh was a burst of warmth and joy, a real, genuine laugh that he hadn’t experienced in so long. It opened his eyes further to how much of an effect you had on him. Whether it was when you were present in his life, or if you weren’t. The room fell silent once again, the two of you just staring at each other. You became too flustered to handle the eye contact, dropping your gaze down to your lap shyly. Taehyung took it upon himself to say something.

“You look stunning tonight,” He stated. You laughed sarcastically, looking down at your ruined dress.

“Yeah, after what happened,”

“I don’t know,” he replied, looking you up and down. “I think expensive ass wine is your color,” You giggled, rolling your eyes. It was weird, for a moment it felt like everything had gone back to normal. Back when you two used to joke about anything and everything, when you could laugh at each other when they embarrassed themselves, and when you both could forget and leave your feelings behind in the moments happening right then.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you commented, finally getting a good look at Taehyung and how he styled himself tonight. You observed his features for a bit, seeing him yawn with his back slumped lazily. Finally, you realized how tired he must be.

“Oh gosh—I’m so sorry! It’s really late, I shouldn’t keep you any longer,” you said worriedly, fidgeting your hands and standing up. You checked the clock hanging on the wall to your right, and was surprised to find it well past midnight.

“Yes, I’ll get going now.” he said, thinking you wanted him out of your apartment quickly. He stood and strode towards the door, but paused at his abandoned shoes when he heard your voice.

“Taehyung—uhm—I wanted to thank you again,” You offered quietly. With his back turned, you couldn’t see him smile widely as he slid his shoes on. Remembering what time it was, you spoke up again with concern.

“Do you think it’s okay to drive all the way back? The sun will be up by the time you get home,” you thought worriedly.

“It’s okay, I have a family condo just a few minutes away from here. I’ll crash there for the night,” he reassured you calmly. Inside, however, he was gleaming with joy that you were showing concern about him.

“Well then, goodnight, Taehyung.” Your eyes met, not leaving each other’s until the closing door obscured the view. When it was finally shut, your shoulders slumped and you rested your forehead against the door.

When you climbed into bed that night (morning), fully bathed and head warped with sleepiness, you thought about the new chapter you’ve both embarked on together. And while your eyes slowly closed, you had no idea that Taehyung was thinking about the same exact thing, as he lay under his own sheets.

——————————

You only woke up the next morning when the sun blinded you so irritatingly that you were forced to get up. Groaning in annoyance, you checked your phone to find it was much closer to noon than you thought. As you were ready to put your phone back down, you realized you had a notification.

Message from Kim Taehyung

You almost dropped your phone onto your face. He only texted you fifteen minutes ago, but you raced to unlock the message.

I hope this is still your number. Sorry, but I think I left my wallet at your place. Call me when you can.

Your heart was racing, and you could see from scrolling up just a bit that the last time you texted each other was the night of your birthday, and he was asking you if you wanted him to come early to help set up. A sense of sadness halted the excitement you felt just moments before, as you were reminded of why you were so joyous to receive a single message now. Snapping out of your dreadful thoughts, you pressed his contact and dialed his number, and was surprised to hear him pick up immediately.

“Hello, Y/n,” his deep voice rang through your ear and already set a blush onto your cheeks.

“H-hi,” you internally kicked yourself for stuttering, but he seemed to brush it off. “You can come and get it whenever you want, or do you want me to drop it off to you? I don’t want to be a hassle—“

“Would you mind? I’m on an online business meeting right now,”

“Oh! I’m sorry for interrupting. Aish—you should have called me back later,”

He only responded with a chuckle, but not because you were being your normal rambling self. He was amused because he didn’t hesitate a second to pause his call for you, even if it was with international business partners.

“I’ll send you my address and the code to get in,”

“Great, I’ll leave right now,”

“Alright. Bye,”

**** Street

Floor level 99, room number 991

The code to the door is 7117.

The elevator ride up to the top floor was long, but luckily you were alone. Your hands fiddled with his heavy leather wallet, and you felt strangely nervous. You were never nervous around him before. Why did things have to change?

You reached the top floor and exited the elevator, realizing his room was the one of the two on this level. You held your fist up to knock on the door, but remembered he gave you the code to unlock the keypad. His condo, more like a penthouse, contained only white, gray, and black tones. The whole space lacked any color, yet it didn’t feel dull. You left your shoes in the foyer and creeped your way into the open living room.

Taehyung was nowhere to be seen, but you didn’t want to call out for him in case he was still on his call. So you placed his wallet on the kitchen island and figured you should leave before it got weird that you were lingering inside alone.

“Ahh, my savior,” he joked, suddenly walking in from an empty door on the right. You assumed it was his bedroom, but he closed the door behind him as he entered, blocking your view.

“Yeah, well, consider it payback for last night,” you chuckled.

It was all too surreal for Taehyung, talking to you like this. It had been so long that he began to feel empty, a hollow shell of the better him. The one that had you. But now, seeing you stand there, he regretted every choice he made for the millionth time. This happiness could’ve been what he felt everyday for all those three years.

“Well, now that I’ve finished my meeting, did you want to grab a coffee?” he offered, knowing you would always be up for one. Your eyes glittered in excitement, but you tried your best to hide it.

“Sure,”

—————————

Taehyung opened the door and gestured for you to enter the slightly crowded cafe. The decorations were earthy and gave a homely feel to it. The line nearly started at the door, so you two waited patiently while deciding what to order.

“I see you still like it bitter and black,” you remarked, shaking your head in disapproval. While you enjoyed having a sweeter, less intense cup of coffee, Taehyung always drank 10 shots of caffeine in a styrofoam cup. He chuckled, but didn’t say anything. As the line shortened, the two of you were making comfortable conversation, something you thought would’ve been much more awkward, but ended up being bearable. Teasing words were flown about, inside jokes were said that reminded you both of a time before all of this. You were so engrossed in your conversation with him, that you didn’t hear when someone called out your name.

“Y/n!” a voice squealed, grabbing your attention by a hand being placed onto your shoulder. You turned, surprised.

“Ah, hello Nina!” you greeted politely, but you were a bit surprised. You hadn’t seen Nina in years, ever since high school, but you could still recognize her. You had no idea what she was up to now, but she was always one of your kind-of friends.

“I see you’re here with Taehyung, I thought you guys stopped being friends a long time ago,” she said, as if it were a second thought, something she didn’t mean to say. Right when she realized she had in fact said it, her eyes instantly flashed with regret. “Oh my—I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to put it like that, but I did always think you guys would work it out,” she said, nervously looking between the both of you. You just laughed it off, trying to play off the awkward conversation topic.

“Well if you don’t mind, I really have to go,” Nina said, and you just noticed that she was already holding a fresh cup of coffee in her hand. You and Taehyung smiled, saying your goodbyes.

“Am I the only one that thought that conversation was weird?” Taehyung murmured, leaning over your shoulder so you could hear.

“Nope, I definitely side with you on that one,” you said, watching Nina’s long brown hair fly behind her as she raced out of the coffee shop. After coffee, you had to part ways with Taehyung to attend your afternoon class. Before you left, he stopped you.

“Um—I’m investing in a new art gallery, and their exclusive opening is tomorrow night before they open it up to the public. Did you—maybe—want to be my plus one?” he asked, slightly nervous. He knew things had gotten significantly better now, but the lingering anxiousness of having you say no still clouded his mind. But when he saw you grin excitedly, all of it blew away into the open air.

“I would love to, pick me up?” you asked.

“Of course. I’ll text you,” he responded. As you walked away, he looked down into his coffee cup and smiled to himself, already feeling his heart start to heal from its wounds.

“You will not guess who I just saw at a coffee shop together,” Nina said, holding her phone up closely to her ear.

“Let me guess, Taehyung and the leech he can’t get rid of,” Yuna responded, her blood boiling. When she watched the two of you walk away together last night, she couldn’t stop her fit of rage. It had all backfired, exploding right back into her face. She knew Taehyung was there last night, and she knew it was her chance to embarrass you. Just thinking about it again made her want to scream. “Well, what were they doing?”

“It didn’t seem like much. They were just talking, but they seem just like how they were all those years ago. What happen—,” Yuna ended the call immediately, cutting Nina off without a care.

Yuna couldn’t believe this was happening. She had tried so hard, and for so long to keep you two apart. There was nothing she wanted to do than ruin your life, no matter how much of a friend she used to call you. Yuna wasn’t dumb, she was actually too smart. That’s what made her such a master manipulator. But, she knew that it wasn’t your fault no matter how much she tried to deny it. She just needed someone to blame besides herself.

Maybe if she was prettier, she would have reeled Taehyung in. Maybe if she was kinder, he would’ve chosen her. All of it was one big slap in her face, and no matter how much she tried to act like it only infuriated her, it hurt her just as much. All she wanted was Taehyung to love her back, but all he wanted was her best friend. And so she devised her plan. There was a lot of risk involved, and a lot of manipulation. But what other option did she have? Deep down, she felt a little guilty. Somewhere far below where she kept things buried, the old her, the young girl who would’ve called you her best friend, was screaming for help.

How cruel the world is to cruel people.

—————————

“Thank you so much for attending, Mr. Kim,” a man standing at the door greeted, sending a smile to the both of you. You smiled brightly in return, before turning your head to face the second large gathering you’ve attended in the past three days. You hadn’t even attended two high class gatherings in the same month for the past three years.

You recognized most of the faces there, and with Taehyung at your side, the two of you were making rounds of greetings with nearly all of the guests. When you finally had some time to yourselves, you decided to take a look at the intricate art adorning the walls. It was an art gallery opening, after all. Taehyung had to talk to the interior designer for the gallery, and offered for you to continue looking at the art, and he would catch up with you.

You gasped as you came across a large floor to ceiling painting, split into four enormous canvases combined to make one picture. It was an abstract depiction of what you thought was a woman falling into the depths of an ocean, and a man who was reaching out to her, but their fingers were just out of reach from each other.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Someone said behind you, and you turned to be met with an elderly man, yet he seemed very young in spirit. His eyes shone with something so intriguing you wanted to talk to him for hours, and find out everything he had to know, along with everything he believed.

“It is,” you said dreamily, turning back to observe the painting and you felt him step next to you, following your gaze. “It reminds me of myself and—someone else,” You knew full well that the painting was painfully similar to your situation with Taehyung, but that you were reaching for him with the same amount of pain etched on the man’s face.

“I like to think of it as my wife and I,” the man said, chuckling to himself. “But art is interpretable. If you’re putting yourself into the painting, that’s all I ever wanted to do. I’ve reached my goal,” You quickly came to realize that this man was the gallery artist, and this was his creation. Your heart filled with admiration, and sadness. If it was a representation of him and his wife, you could only guess what happened to her. He must’ve sensed your change in mood, but he continued.

“There are things in this world you would give yourself up for, things you would drown yourself to get, if only for a second. There are people you would save, and people you would grab desperately just to hold on to and never let them go,” The man smiled sadly, his hand reaching out to the woman in the painting. “But this cruel world is too fast for one to beat its current. The lucky get to live or leave obliviously, and the unlucky have to watch helplessly with water in their lungs. I hope you enjoy the rest of the viewing,” he finished, already walking away. He had said so much, yet so little. You figured he wanted you to finish the train of thought he had started, but you were suddenly interrupted by your phone ringing. Not wanting to disturb other people, you rushed to the bathroom just a few feet away. The phone number on the screen was unfamiliar, but you answered.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Y/L/N, you are receiving a call from the ____ University administrators office. I’m sure you know this already, but we have a zero tolerance policy for plagiarism. It has come to our attention that you have committed this felony on your Sociology trimester paper. Your professor has given no room for discussion, and it is decided that you’ll be suspended from your classes from now until the end of the semester. If this happens again, we will have no choice but to proceed in your expelling. Thank you,”

The lady on the phone left no room for you to respond or explain yourself, and promptly ended the call. Your hands were shaking, your eyes filling with tears, and you were confused. You hadn’t plagiarized on your paper, and suddenly they were suspending you for it without further discussion. Frantically, you wiped your tears and rushed out of the bathroom. Back in the crowded museum, you searched desperately for Taehyung. You remembered him going towards the end of the hall, away from the entrance, so you headed that way. Finally, after shuffling through and in between people, you spotted his tall frame and his jet black hair.

“Taehyung,” you called out, but the low chatter from everyone in the room was enough to build up into a loud hum. “Taehyung,” once again, he couldn’t hear you. You were only a couple arms length away now, and you started to feel yourself unable to hold your tears back any longer. He was still talking to a few important looking men, but you couldn’t seem to care at that moment.

“Tae,” You choked out. He heard your familiar voice, with the lace of desperation. Immediately, he whipped around and headed towards you.

“Y/n? What’s wrong, are you hurt?” he asked, clutching your face and looking you up and down urgently.

“Tae, my university is framing me for plagiarizing my paper, they’re suspending me for four months,” you said, voice shaking. “I have to go, I have to figure out what’s going on—,”

“I’ll come with you,” he insisted, but you shook your head and gently took his hands off your cheeks.

“You have to stay here, you know that. I’ll catch a cab,” you insisted, hurrying away. Taehyung’s hands still hung in the air, cradling the ghost of your face. He wanted so badly to call after you, follow you, comfort you. But you were right. He needed to be at this event, and he only hoped you would figure everything out. Despite his hopes, he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Where did your precious princess go, hm?” a voice asked, and Taehyung felt his blood run cold. His eyes met a mischievous, smirking face. “She didn’t happen to leave, did she?” She asked mock-innocently. Yuna watched everything unfold from the background, hiding in the sea of people. So far, her plan couldn’t be working any better. Taehyung didn’t need much time to put the pieces together. In fact, he had a feeling this was the case all along before Yuna even approached him.

“You did this,” he spat venomously, but in a low voice so people wouldn’t eavesdrop. Yuna only giggled, further infuriating him.

“Did what?” she asked, trying to play dumb. She wanted to see just how far he could go.

“You’re costing her her career, her entire future,” Taehyung was speaking in an angry tone, but he was almost pleading for Yuna to fully comprehend the consequences of her actions. He was nearly frozen in fear, because it felt like everything he was trying to grow and heal from was all coming back to him.

“Well, that’s true, isn’t it? So wouldn’t that mean you should stay away from her again, you know, so someone doesn’t go any further?” Yuna almost giggled in excitement, because she knew what his answer was going to be.

Except this time, Taehyung hesitated. Now that he had just gotten you back, he was almost selfish enough to want to keep you, no matter how much it would hurt you. He felt disgusted when he found himself problem solving for you losing your education. He could support you financially, he could let you live with him, maybe he would have a better chance of getting you to love him back. But he quickly rid his head of those thoughts. He wanted you to be able to pursue your passion, to work hard and reach your goals independently, because he knew that was the type of person you were. It was one of the many things he admired about you.

But what was he going to do now? Was he going to do what he’d been doing for so long? Could he handle cutting you off again, when he knows how depressed he was over it? But then he thought back to you, what Yuna was doing to you, and how much control he had over it.

“I’m giving you two options. One, you could keep helplessly dogging after Y/n, and she can suffer. Two, you could leave her again, come to me, and everything fucking her over right now would just—disappear,” she snapped to emphasize her point.

Taehyung felt his chest constricting, and he was beginning to panic. He knew he had no choice, but he resented it all the same. He had just gotten you back, and now he was being forced to let you go again. He wanted to scream, he wanted to grab onto you and take you away somewhere you two could live far away from this mess. He wanted to take the chair next to him and throw it at Yuna, but he couldn’t do any of those things.

“I hope you’re happy,” he croaked out, no longer staring daggers at the witch in front of him. By now, his eyes only reflected the sadness his heart held. His heart was breaking, and there was nothing around to hold it together anymore.

For a second, Yuna felt her heart breaking for him. Looking into the sorrowful eyes of the person you loved the most, knowing you broke them, was enough for even her to feel a twinge of regret. But she brushed it off as quickly as it came, and replaced her regret with rejoice. Taehyung didn’t notice her walk away, and he didn’t notice people continuing to make conversation. He just stood in front of a painting he wasn’t actually studying, and held the tears in for when he would be alone once again.

You received a call later that night that they had made a mistake, and that the suspension was a misunderstanding. They had offered compensation for the trouble, and probably to keep you quiet, but you declined. You were just sad that you had to take an early leave from the gallery opening. You looked at the time and figured it would be over already. So, you decided to dial Taehyung’s phone.

It was still some getting used to seeing his contact name again, after years of empty silence. The phone rang, and rang, and rang, before going to voicemail. You didn’t want to pry, so you didn’t call again. You could always call him in the morning.

————————

It’s been two weeks, and you haven't heard anything from Taehyung. By now, you have passed the point of denial and you have accepted that things might be going back to the way they used to be. The moments of being best friends again were so fleeting that it almost felt like a dream. As if it had never happened at all. You wanted to resent him. You wanted to blame him for always leaving you in the dust without any reason or explanation, but you could never find it in yourself to hate Kim Taehyung. And while you knew it hurt, you would let him do it a thousand times.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into days, and before you knew it, Taehyung’s ghost had been haunting you for three months. You spotted things that reminded you of him from time to time. Almost every other day you passed the cafe you went to with him on your way to the South campus. Once or twice you passed his apartment building, but you figured he was long gone by now. He probably went back to his actual condo back in the bigger city, miles and miles away. Your mind often strayed back to the painting you fell in love with all those nights ago, and just how true the message truly was. It didn’t matter how much you love the person, and how much you’re willing to fight to get them. Whether or not you could save someone from floating away didn’t only depend on one person's feelings. Sometimes, even the deepest love couldn’t beat the ocean tide.

Don’t think about him. You told yourself, grasping tighter onto your coat as the days grew colder, along with your heart.

“Fuck!” Taehyung yelled, grabbing an expensive vase and throwing it across the room, shattering against the wall with a crash. Shards of stained glass littered the floor, along with many other broken items that cost more than he could imagine. After nearly half an hour of acting in a fit of rage, Taehyung finally collapsed on the ground.

Falling onto his hands and knees, he didn’t even flinch when the sharp pieces of destruction pierced the skin of his palms. No physical pain could amount to what he was feeling inside. He hated everything. He hated himself for being a coward, he hated Yuna for ruining everything, he hated the world for giving him this life. The only thing he didn’t hate was you. You and your stupid, perfect self. He always told himself he couldn’t imagine a life without you, and here he was, walking out on you for the second time. He wondered what you thought of him, if you despised him as much as he did himself. He wondered if you cried, or if you didn’t care at all.

In the corner of his eye, Taehyung spotted a piece of the wreckage he caused. He slowly crawled over to it, sitting down and leaning against the wall behind him as he held it up. It was a picture taken over four years ago, a photo with just you and him. It was right afterschool, and you two were both wearing those disgustingly colored uniforms you never missed a day complaining about. You two were beaming at the camera, not looking a hair short of pure joy. Taehyung’s arm was around you, pulling you so close that your outer leg was lifted off the ground, but neither of you seemed to mind.

The photo sat in a frame, the same one it had been in since you got the photo printed for the two of you to have all those years ago. You had given it to him as a gift, and now, the protective glass had broken off in bits and pieces. Seeing this, a visual of just how much he broke your friendship, forced Taehyung to finally give in to his tears. He cried, and cried, and cried more even as the blood from his hands smeared across the white frame around the edges. What more could he do than cry? Tears and blood were all he had left.

Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed his phone. He didn’t care that blood was getting on the screen, he simply ignored it and searched for your contact name. His finger hovered over the call button, and it stayed there as the minutes ticked by. In the log below, you had called him over 20 times, all of which he ignored. He wouldn’t even be able to count how many messages you sent, each one digging a deeper wound than the last. But it wasn’t your fault. None of it was. You were just caught in a game you weren’t meant to participate in, and you didn’t even know it. For the second time in his life, Taehyung felt a pain he wouldn’t wish on anyone. It was the pain of loving someone so much you didn’t know what to do without them, as you were forced to let them go.

Taehyung’s arms were outstretched, swimming past the point of exhaustion, as you sank lower and lower into the black void he feared he couldn’t save you from. And it’s your fault. He reminded himself. It always was. He was so used to letting you go, but he hated losing you.

He swiped across the phone screen frantically, calling the second person he wanted to talk to the most, but for completely different reasons. It only rang twice before the call was picked up.

“I see you’ve finally come to your senses—,”

“You did this, you bitch. You did this to me,” Taehyung sobbed into the receiver, ignoring the burn in his throat. “I’d rather die. I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I don’t want to hate myself anymore. I don’t want to cry anymore. Take me away from here, please,” He cried. Both Yuna and Taehyung knew he wasn’t talking to her anymore, he was talking to someone much bigger than that. She didn’t know what to say, but it didn’t matter. He kept going.

“I want her to love me, I want to love her with everything I have. Why can’t I save her, why, why, why,” With every word, he hit his head backwards against the wall. It wasn’t enough to damage, but it was enough to make him feel something other than grief.

“Taehyung? Taehyung where are you?” Yuna asked, hearing the thumping through the phone. She didn’t want this to happen. She wanted to take everything back if it meant he would stop. Without responding, the phone line was abruptly cut off. In a state of panic, Yuna knew the line had been crossed. If she truly cared about him, she knew she had to stop. But Yuna feared it may have been too late.

This is it. Yuna thought. This was the end of the road for her. Subconsciously, she always knew it would end like this. This was just the first time she truly accepted it.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, y/n you have to listen to me. Taehyung is losing it, y-you have to find him. Don’t ask questions, please f-find him,”

With that, Yuna hung up. You barely registered her words before you dropped your pencil on the table and dashed out the door. The only place you thought to look for him while you mind was so plagued with worry was his apartment three blocks away. It only took you ten minutes to run over, and you prayed he was still here. An elevator ride had never felt so long before. Remembering the code, you burst into the apartment. The first thing you noticed was the immense amount of broken shards littering the floor of the apartment.

“Tae,” You called out, spotting him sitting on the floor, leaning against the kitchen island. His head was slumped downwards, but when he heard your voice he slowly lifted it up.

Was he dreaming? Was he so close to insanity that he dreamt you up so vividly? He couldn’t say anything as you rushed over to him, frantically searching his body for the source of the blood. You were relieved to find visible cuts on only his hands. But only for a second, before the pain of seeing him like this tore your heart in enough pieces to pair with every broken piece on the ground.

You dragged your hands up his neck and wiped the blood from his face as best you could, pulling his head into the crook of your neck. You let him cry on your shoulder, and you couldn’t keep the tears from falling down your own face.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault,” his voice cracked as he pleaded for your forgiveness. You shushed him and continued rubbing his back soothingly. “I didn’t want her to hurt you,”

“I know, Tae. I know,” you whispered. You didn’t know, but it was all starting to make sense. It didn’t take a genius to know Yuna was behind this. The both of you felt so stupid for letting it get to this point, and letting her manipulate the two of you into submission. “It’s not your fault. Don’t say that,” you pleaded, knowing the guilt was overtaking his mind. His body was heavy, and his arms were squeezing your ribs. You both sat there, vulnerable and exposing every part of your pain to each other, but you didn’t mind. For the first time in over ten years you didn’t care about any of that anymore. The walls of worry finally broke away.

“I won’t hurt you anymore,” he promised, and he truly meant it. If he could control it, he would never be your source of pain for the rest of his life. His heart was hammering and his head was pulsing in pain, but he struggled out the next few words.

“I love you, Y/n.”

It was your turn to start sobbing. You sobbed harder than you ever had before, even when this was the most relieved you’d ever felt. Words seemed meaningless for all the things you wanted to express to him, but all you could do was say it back.

“I love you, too,”

—————————

“Guess what,” Taehyung said, plopping down on the bed next to you and successfully interrupting you from your reading. You raised an eyebrow at him, feigning a look of annoyance. “I love you,”

You blushed no matter how many times you heard him say it, covering your flushed face. He chuckled, slyly moving your book to the side of the bed. You received no warning before your entire body was crushed under his weight, and he sighed in content as you laughed hysterically.

“Get off of me fatso,” you giggled, but you made no move to push him off.

“Not until you say it back,” he demanded in a harsh tone, though you knew he was joking. Still, you refused. His head dipped down close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “What is it going to take to hear you say it,” he murmured, his head nudging yours softly.

“Well, I did want that new—,” Before you could finish your joke, his lips were pressed against yours. Without hesitation, you reciprocated the passion he was transferring to you through his kiss. His curly black hair tickled your forehead as he held himself over you, and you whined as he sucked on your lower lip. The room and atmosphere got hot very quickly, and both your brains still could barely comprehend that this was your relationship now. You could kiss each other, touch each other, and say exactly how you felt all the damn time. These three months together seemed to erase the years of pain you two had survived, and now all you needed to worry about was the next time you would be able to see each other.

Always the impatient one, your hands wandered down to pull his shirt over his head. His lips were persistent, only leaving yours for a second before he went back to drinking you in. You were dangerously addictive, he thought. There wasn’t a point he could imagine where he would get tired of you.

“I’ll never get enough of you,” he spoke through your lips, his voice vibrating through you. It thrilled you to no end. He flipped you two over, forcing you to straddle his lap as you peeled your shirt off as well. His hands scorched your skin wherever it went, burning both your bodies in a blazing fire of want and need. Your hands threaded through his hair and he groaned as you felt at the strands. His hands dug into your hips, pushing you harder onto his bulge. This drew a whine from both of you.

“I want you so bad,” you pleaded, and you groaned frustratedly as you felt like there were too many articles of clothing still being worn.

“Do you, baby?” He asked mockingly. Your whining painted a smirk on his pretty face. You could tell he was trying to tease you, probably because of your refusal to cooperate with him, but you knew he wouldn’t deny you of anything. Not after he did so for so long.

“What exactly do you want?” He asked, detaching his mouth from yours so you could respond. As you opened your mouth, he gripped your waist tightly and bucked his hips up into you. You moaned out properly for the first time that night. “That won’t do. You have to tell me, or you won’t get anything,” he had an infuriating, smug smile, but it didn’t stop you from begging.

“I want you to do anything you want to me. Use me to feel good, Tae, please,” He growled at your words, flipping you over once again, your back bouncing off the mattress from the amount of force. He worked at sliding your pants off along with your panties, motioning for you to take your bra off. Your heart raced in anticipation, and your breathing was ragged as you stared down at his head between your legs.

“You want me to use you as my little fuck toy, don’t you?” He asked, leaning so close to your pussy you could feel the hot air blowing gently on your slit. You nodded your head, too breathless to speak. “You’re such a good girl, then I’m going to give you something,” He dipped his head in and sucked at your aching clit. The attention to your bud made you moan and thrash around, but his arms held your hips down, forcing you to take everything he was giving you.

“That’s it baby, take it.” His soft lips encased your bud as his tongue darted in every direction, stimulating you until your nerves were on fire. Taehyung hummed into you, driving you crazy. He could do this for hours, he thought to himself. And just when you felt like you couldn’t get enough, he shoved his tongue into your hole and brought his hand up to rub tight circles on your clit.

Nothing but his dick could’ve compared to his tongue prying your folds open, exploring your depths with a sense of urgency. His head bobbed back and forth as he thrusted in and out, your juices flooding his mouth. The sounds coming from between your legs were both pushing you closer to the edge and making your cheeks tinge red. His mouth slurped and sucked at you, and your arousal sounded wet and abundant. The way he ate you out was messy and unforgiving, not caring about being precise or articulate when he wanted to go fast and hard, overwhelming you from the beginning. So far he was succeeding.

“It’s so good, I’m close,” you told him, and it prompted Taehyung to speed the circles on your bud. His entire arm moved to rub your clit, flexing to push down harder. The pace he set was what you would’ve used if you wanted to get off as quickly as possible, causing your back to arch off the bed as you cried out. Your hands strangled the sheets and your eyes shut. Just a few moments later, with his name on your lips, you released on Taehyung’s tongue. He groaned happily as you gushed onto him.

“You’re so good, so fucking good,” he groaned, his breath labored. He gave neither of you a break, however, and he dipped his head back down to continue his assault on your folds.

“Tae, I’m sensitive,” you moaned, trying to push him away. He wouldn’t budge.

“I want more, please, let me eat your pussy,”

Who were you to say no to that? As he attached back onto your swollen clit, you rolled your eyes back and screamed. Without his tongue stuffed inside you, you felt your juices drip out and onto the sheets. The second time around it didn’t take you long to come. He attacked your bud with everything he had, sucking and biting and licking it until you couldn’t take it anymore. But still, he kept going and wouldn’t stop until you were coming on his face. He dipped further down and swallowed your juices as they dripped down his chin. He only stopped when he was satisfied with the way your legs shook around him, and he had his fill of you.

“You’re so good to me,” you pant, kissing from his cheek down to his collarbone. He exhaled sharply from his nose, tucking his head into your neck.

“Do you love me now?” Despite the fact that he ate you through two orgasms, you couldn’t help but laugh. He was more stubborn than you sometimes. “Depends on how well you fuck me,”

“Is that a challenge?” the darkness in his eyes only slightly scared you, but only because you weren’t sure you were ready for him. Nonetheless, you tugged at the waistband of his shorts to get him to take everything off. He sighed when he relieved himself from his confines, his large dick springing up and slapping against his pelvis. He spit into his hand aggressively, pumping himself a few times before pressing his tip to your entrance. You moaned in excitement, looking up at his face as he watched his cock slip into you. Even now, you couldn’t understand how someone could be so beautiful. Kim Taehyung truly was a man of your dreams.

His length seemed endless as he kept pushing in further and further, until his hips finally pressed against your clit and the head of his cock pushed roughly against your cervix. You grabbed at his arms and back. trying to stable yourself as he filled you to your max. Taehyung groaned as he felt your walls pulse against him, trying his hardest not to lose control and pound ruthlessly into your pussy.

“You’re so big Tae,” you whined, growing louder as he began moving out. He pulled back so slowly you could feel every inch of him as he left you, getting close to completely pulling out before he slammed back into you. You screamed in ecstasy, giving Taehyung the confidence to start properly thrusting.

“You’re so tight, fuck. I can barely move with your pussy clenching around me. What about we loosen you up?” Your brain was mush, barely processing his words before his fingers went back to toying with your flushed clit. Taehyung truly did feel your walls lessen its grip on him, allowing him to pummel into you harder and faster. You could barely speak, the room filled with your screams and Taehyung’s occasional growl when you clenched down.

Seeing you like this, completely fucked out and skin glistening in sweat, made him want to ruin you. He pushed himself from his position hovering above you, kneeling on the bed with his hands holding your hips slightly off the mattress. The new position allowed him to hammer into you, and it felt like your pussy was being torn apart on his cock. It felt so good, you began seeing stars.

“You feel that?” Taehyung groaned, taking one of his hands and pressing his palm into your lower abdomen. He could feel the ridge of his cock every time he pushed into you, and it nearly hurtled him into his own orgasm. “I’m so deep, aren’t I? Fuck, that’s so hot. I’m going to come soon,” You nodded your head in acknowledgement, but you didn’t have to tell him you were close. You were sure he already knew.

You were amazed he had this much stamina, his cock pounding into you for so long and so incredibly hard. The bed creaked underneath you as it shook from the power of his thrusts, Taehyung looking down at where you two were connected. He nearly came as he watched his length slip in and out of you, your pussy coating his dick with your arousal. It only took a few more thrusts for you to come, your pussy clenching sporadically on his length. The pulsing sent him over the edge, and he rode both of your orgasms out with achingly slow grinds of his hips.

When he finally pulled out, he watched as his cum leaked out of your entrance, and nearly got hard again. He had to hold himself back from cleaning your dripping pussy with his tongue, knowing you were past the point of sensitivity. He got up to grab a towel, cleaning the both of you up before tucking himself into bed with his arms wrapped around you.

“I love you,” you murmured, pressing a feather light kiss on his cheek. He flushed, but he still had the nerve to smirk with his cheeks painted red.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You both laughed, but were quick to lay in silence in each of your own thoughts.

Taehyung felt the lightest and happiest he’d ever been, being with you. It boggles his mind that the two of you loved each other from the beginning, and never noticed. There were regrets he had, yes, but the peace of mind he’d obtained after everything that happened made up for every mistake he apologized profusely for. Not only to you, but to himself. At his lowest points, he would become his biggest enemy. Having you by his side never failed to provide him the comfort he needed, and he vowed to himself he would never let you go again.

I swear I’m different than before.

After coming to realize everything what had happened behind your back, you were relieved at your revelation that it wasn’t you at all. The lack of explanation for why your friends had shut you out for so long came with a lot of self doubt and insecurity. You spent many nights wondering if it was your fault, if you were driving people away. But with Taehyung’s arms wrapped around you, his chest pressed against yours, you knew things were meant to work out for the two of you. It may have taken a while, with enough heartbreak to last a lifetime, but if it meant you could keep him like this for the rest of your life, you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

You learned how to lose someone before you could have them.

But you always came back, because that’s the kind of love you two had.

#btssmut #bts #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #smut #taehyung imagine #taehyung fic #bts fic #kpop smut #kpop au #kpop imagines #kpop

[aj-the-psycho]

A Camp to Remember

The other day, I found a post where @itsme98z suggested a Parent Trap AU with Roman and Remus. Honestly, that’s a brilliant idea so I thought I’d give it a shot. I hope y’all like it. (If anyone wants a part two to this where I just continue the story, you’re welcome to ask and I just might write it.)

I also used @kazykazu‘s idea: the Divorce AU where Patton and Deceit are the dads who got divorced. They share custody with Logan and Roman under Patton’s while Remus and Virgil under Deceit’s. This AU just seem so fitting with Parent Trap and the fact that Roman and Remus are twins who separated. So, I don’t really know what this is, but I hope you like it.

Warning: Nudity; mentions of nudity; small fight(s); fencing; poker/gambling - let me know if there’s anything I should be aware of.

Ship: none.

Word count: 1,574 (it’s super short)

**********

Summer camp. Oh, how exciting.

Summer camps should be fun. Dad is sending him to a summer camp for eight weeks. He had convinced his brother, Virgil, to come with. He had been reluctant, but he agreed nonetheless. Virgil grumbled the whole time. Summer was not his thing, what with having skin so pale he might as well be allergic to the sun. So, one morning, the two boys were off to camp.

“What’s this camp anyway?” Virgil asked absentmindedly from his seat on the bus, rifling through his comic book. He only joined for the sole reason of being bored at home all summer. “Bet you know all about it.”

“Dad says it’s an all-boys-camp,” Remus answered, taking a ridiculously big bite of his white chocolate bar. Virgil cringed, because who actually likes white chocolate? “Should be fun, right Virge? We could trick the boys somehow to jump into the lake naked.”

“There’s a lake?” Virgil feigned interest.

“Dad says there is.” Remus licked the melted chocolate from his fingers rather loudly—disgustingly loud. “But c’mon, Virge. Wouldn’t it be fun if we did play a prank on the hot boys and get to see them naked?”

“Disgusting.”

After another hour or so, they entered a more wooded area and finally the camp ground was in sight. They quickly spilled out of the bus and headed out to the cabins. Remus couldn’t help the small giggle which escaped him. A car drove past them, parking near the cabins.

“Wonder who that is,” Virgil mumbled to himself. The two moved on with their activities, Remus already bolting ahead to get his duffle bag—dark green with black trims and silver details. Virgil followed behind him.

The door to the car opened to reveal a man with a neat suit and tie. He opened the back door as a boy stepped out of the car. He was dressed in a fitted white shirt topped with a well-tailored deep-red jacket. He wore a pair of pants to match with the jacket. It casual enough, but a tad over the top. The boy walked over to the back of the car with a smile, followed by the neatly-dressed man from before.

“Now, Roman,” the man says with a reserved smile—though he did still look a little enthusiastic, “let’s go over the list from your father.”

“Alright!” Roman chirped.

“Vitamins?”

“Check.”

“Minerals?”

“Daily fruits and vegetables?”

“Check and check.” Roman giggled at the man’s questioning and confused look. “Check for fruit and check for vegetables.”

“Sunblock? lip balm?”

“Emile, I think that’s enough.” Roman let out a gleeful giggle. He knew, by this point, that Emile was just teasing with his questions.

“Alright then, young sir,” Emile said again with a playful wink. “Don’t forget to take lots and lots of photographs for your father, grandfather and me: your butler.”

Roman smiled again. He had been so excited for this camp. He had run around the house shouting the joyful announcement to anyone he could find. To his grandfather, to Emile, to the cooks. Everyone. Emile then offered him his hand for a shake. It was their special thing they made years ago—an elaborate handshake just for the tow of them. Afterwards, Emile gave him a sad look as they part. After a brief hug, the butler went back to the car with a wave. Roman waved back and ran off to the cabins.

----------

The day was still bright, so there was no use staying couped up in the cabin doing nothing on his bed. Roman was eager to make new friends during camp. He wouldn’t have fun without any friends now, would he? He had changed to his more camp-appropriate outfit—a soft-red hoodie and shorts. Outside was warm, as any summer day would be. There were small games put around the camp. There was a chess-play area on one side—the side of the field Roman will never dream of going to. On another side was a fencing area. That should be interesting.

A boy had just knocked his opponent down when he entered the area. The one with the white suit fell on his butt with a sharp yelp, though he wasn’t hurt. He took off his mask with a slight pant.

“That was good,” the boy said.

“Thanks.” The boy with the green suit said, helping the fallen boy up to his feet.

“Oh, we have a winning streak right here with our champion’s sixth win of the day, Remus Parker.” The camp counselor looked down at the list he had in his hand and scribbled a number next to the boy’s name. “Anyone else want to take a challenge? Come on, boys. Don’t be shy.”

Remus took his mask off, turning back to where his brother sat on a stack of wood pallets. He walked over to Virgil, murmuring a small but proud thank you when he was complimented. It was then they heard a voice piped up from the crowd.

“I think I’ll take a whack at it.” Roman could help the small slip-up of a pun. His father had been feeding him puns and jokes ever since he knew how to speak. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

Remus tilted his head to the side, he swept his long hair back and wore his mask once again before finally turning to face his opponent. The other boy was facing the other way, now wearing the white fencing suit. He pulled on the mask and turned around. The game begins. Remus started his attack mercilessly giving the other boy no chance to attack back. The boy was cornered to a tree before finally able to dodge the incoming attack.

Roman leapt to the side, now backing his opponent to a nearby cabin. The other boy backed away onto the deck of the cabin. They were forced to climb the short steps onto the landing, turning to one corner until the other boy’s back hit the fence of the deck. With one prod, Roman sent the boy falling backwards into a previously-unseen large basin of water next to the cabin. With a yelp, the boy tipped back and was doused in cold water in an instant.

“Oh, goodness, I’m so sorry!” Roman held out a hand for the boy to take.

“No, I’m sorry.” Remus yanked the boy’s hand, pulling him into the water.

“Hey!” Roman exclaimed. “What was that for?”

“You pushed me into the water!” Remus yelled, struggling his way out of the water with his suit now soaked. “It’s only fair.”

“No, I did not!”

“Well, now,” the camp counselor walked over to the two water-soaked boys. He stood with a proud posture. “Looks like we have a new champion. Roman James, everyone!”

The two boys took off their masks, standing back to back as they did not want to acknowledge the other’s presence. They wore a frown of annoyance on their faces. Roman took his fencing sword by his feet. He thought the other boy was quite exceptional in fencing, even if he managed to take the upper hand. If anything, he thought he was lucky the boy made a mistake of cornering himself on the deck. If not, Roman would have lost. Not that he will ever admit to any of that, of course.

Remus let out a groan, looking up to the sky with embarrassment. How could he have lost to a bratty boy who make a bad pun—supposedly by accident. He thought he was good enough in fencing, but no. That wasn’t enough, because apparently the boy thought it was a good idea to push him into the water. How very funny. He saw Virgil still sitting on the wood pallet with a teasing smirk on his face. That brother of his knew he hated losing.

“Alright, boys.” The counselor announced his forgotten presence. “Now shake hands. Come on, boys.”

Reluctantly, the two boys turned to face one another. Their eyes blew wide when they saw their own reflection staring back. Roman blinked a few times, offering his hand hesitantly. Remus shook his hand, sensing an odd feeling in his stomach. Their hand stayed frozen in mid-air, clasped together. Finally, Remus yanked his hand back and awkwardly tucked the lose hair on his face to stay behind his ear.

“Why are they staring at us?” Remus whispered in question.

“Don’t you see it?” Roman answered with another question. “The resemblance between us…”

Remus glanced to his side when he heard footsteps approaching. His little brother stared at the other boy in awe. He whispered something to himself—something Remus couldn’t quite catch. Slowly, the crowd dispersed to get back to their own affairs and theatrics.

“The resemblance? What resemblance?” Remus mocked. “Turn to your side, would you?”

Roman followed reluctantly. He turned to the other side when Remus told him to again. He rolled his eyes—again, irritated. He had no idea what this Parker boy was up to.

“You know, your eyes are too close together,” Remus said in a teasing tone. “And your ears—don’t worry about that, you’ll grow into them. Your teeth are a little crooked, and that nose. But, honey, those things can be fixed.”

“Whatever you say!” Roman almost yelled, outraged. “See you around, Parker.”

“That was weird, Rem,” Virgil murmured to his brother as Roman stomped off.

That was indeed odd. Remus shrugged, dragging his brother away. That was not a matter he needed to think about now.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #anxiety sanders #virgil sanders #ts virgil #creativity sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #intrusive thoughts #intrusive thoughts thomas sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #ts remus #sanders sides parent trap au #parent trap au #sanders sides divorce au #divorce au #sanders sides au #Nudity #mention of nudity #fencing #poker #gambling

[crazyrandomfucker]

Adrien Augreste: Lucky Charm

Hey ther, today it’s just a short one, but I knid of enjoyed creating it. I hope you do too

________________________

Adrien was having a funny dream, he as trapped with his friends inside a videogame, just like in Sword Art Online or Log Horizon, but the genre of the game kept randomly changing, making it hard to keep up with the game. Luckily, Mari was there and she was the best at games, his brotjer was also good, but not as much as her. Unluckily for Adrien, Mari was also there. After having that talk with Marin, Adrien hadn't been able to get the bluenette out of his head, not even in his own dreams. He had been reassuring himself that he was only in love with his Lady and that Mari was just a friend, that he was loyal to Ladybug. Yet, as the designer girl was beating another game, he couldn't help to think how awesome and skilled she was, restarting once again the whole reassuring his love for Ladybug cycle.

When he woke up with a faint blush on his face everyone else was still sleeping like babies, so he simply went to the bathroom. As usual, Plagg would tease him on his latest slip while he washed his face, but this time, Adrien couldn't think of a good comeback for Plagg's teasing, so he just ignored it and went back to his bed, grabbing his phone to play some games. He had already download the brand new UMS game for mobile and thought to give it a chance. He oppened the app and registered to have access to the multiplayer servers and not just the classic story mode. Apparently, aside from playing with the pickable charcters, one could also made his own robotic fighter with parts that could be unlocked upon meeting some requirements or paying for the special chests for VIP users. Since he had payed the full price for the game, he was a VIP user and recieved a chest just by logging in for the first time, giving him pretty neat part to customize his robot. He instantly assembled one and went straight to PvP battles, after all, the best way to learn it's by experiencing it at its purest..

Despite losing the first few battles, he quickly began to catch on the game mechanics and began to wonder if there would be someone near battling in the local PvP server. Adrien, lead by his curiosity, went to the Local Mode, expecting a long queue or to simply be empty. To his surprise, there was a single player at that exact moment, someone that went by MDC_designer. He instantly asked for a battle and he got a quick response, the other player accepting the challenge. As the countdown was going on for the battle to begin, he observed how his rival was also using a custom made robot, but all its parts where unlockable parts given rather early in the game, which weren't really useful on his opinion. Unlike that pink bot, his Chat bot was perfectly tailored with the best parts that matched his fighting style, so he thought it would just be an easy win.

A minute later, his opponent had already won the first round, leaving Adrien gawking at the unbelievable fighting style he had just witnessed, revaluing his opinion of his rival and feeling nothing but respect for them. The second round, thought it was a bit longer and Adrien presented a bit more of resistance, was still won by that misterious yet skilled player. adrien wasted no time to send a Friend request to the player, getting an equally faster positive reply.

"Hey there @MDC_designer, great battle" texted Adrien. "Thanks, the same goes for you. thought your built was actually pretty cool" said the other player. "Thanks, I like to call it: The ChatBot. you know, in Chat Noir's honor and that" explained Adrien. "I'd expect nothing less since your nickname is @Chat_inthehouse". "Yeah, that was kinda an obious one, wasn't it?" said Adrien. "Anyway, where did you learnt those moves?" "Well, I've always been a huge follower of UMS and I've already been playing since it was first relesed, so I got practice. But I also had a bit of luck" said the other player. "Luck? Wow, you must be very lucky then. I have a lucky charm a friend of mine gave me and it had always worked" "I also have one, a friend of mine gave it to me in my birthday. Perhaps he put more luck in it than your friend?" "I don't think so, Marinette always does perfect jobs. That's my friend, btw" said Adrien. "Marinette? As in Marinette Dupain-Cheng?" asked suddenly the stranger. "Yes, do you know her?" asks curious the model. "You could say so Adrien" "Wait, how do you know my name" "Well, your the lucky charm you gave me is certainly a lucky one, thought I didn't expect you to be awake" "Wait... Mari? Is that you?" "Yep, the girls are all asleep and I was bored, so I just grabbed my phone and searched for any contendant near" "Same, thought I battle a bit first to learn the mechanics, I hadn't had an opportunity to try the game 'til now" "Really? You were really good at it, I'd never thought it was your first day" "Thanks Mari. By the way, I talked last night with Marin and now we've sort of dug the war axe" "That's great, I can tell Adrienne was really pissed at you for that" "Weren't you also?" asked Adrien, smiling for himself. "That was because Marin was being an idiot. Adrienne was mad about how you reacted to Marin" excused herself the bluenette. "Right. BTW, I'm glad to be texting like this. You're always looking as if you'd want to run whenever I'm around, but MArin told me that it's because you still feel nervous for reacting to the gum issue that way. Don't worry about that, I can't blame you. And I'd really like to talk to you and get to know you. You're a really amazing girl" "Oh.. Um.. I'll try to. Sorry for being like that" "Don't worry about it. I'd rather be your friend instead of minding such a little thing" "That would be great! I mean... I'd love to!"

Adrien chuckled and looked at his drawer, where the lucky charm rested, sending him lucky vibes. He thought that the charm was actually lucky, as he now could be friends with Marinette. Perhaps he should think about taking it everywhere, it was the best lucky charm after all.

#adrien augreste #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 10 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: This part sort of stretched itself a lot further than I originally anticipated, there was so much I wanted to elaborate on that consequently, it’s Part 11 that will feature Mackenzie’s dinner for Duncan, and the fulfillment of his morning promise (hot sex y’all) & the revelation of the special gift (I also decided I wanted everyone to witness that part through Duncan’s perspective, so we’d be privy to his thoughts and feelings regarding what Kenzie did for him and how worried he is about her safety/his desire to soothe her, among other things, and I’m trying to stick to the dual perspective pattern, so). I know this part doesn’t have smut and Duncan isn’t in it very much, but it’s very important to the development of Duckenzie’s emotional trajectory, and it took a long time for me to write it and it was emotional for me. I really loved spending this time with Mackenzie; I did my best to give her room for doubt while also being clear that she is fiercely individualistic and does indeed have a core of strength, even if she can’t necessarily always see that about herself. A lot of new AU versions of AHS APOC characters crept into this: Ben Wilder is obviously Billy Porter/Behold, Precious is Queenie/Gabourey, Zadie is Zoe/Taissa, Anchaly is Ariel/Jon Jon, Candice (my Cordelia AU)’s lost love Mia is Misty/Lily. I’ve toyed with the idea of making Samuel canonically an AU several times, but even though I think of Lance Reddick’s Papa Legba for him sometimes, he’s not really Papa; he’s someone else, my own character. If anyone wants to make fake Instagram edits for Duncan and Kenzie, I’d fucking love that. Please humor me with all the clothes in this one; I modeled the stuff Kenzie picks after things you can actually get on Madewell’s website, for what it’s worth, and I tried to plot out her Georgetown shopping as accurately as I could; there’s both a Sephora and a Dean and DeLuca within short walking distance of the Georgetown Madewell. The prints in Duncan’s living room are Bouguereau’s Dawn, Day, Twilight (Evening Mood) and Night. I made an edit representing the statues of Dike, Nike and Athena Duncan has in his living room here. Here is Ella Fitzgerald’s BEWITCHED, BOTHERED AND BEWILDERED. Nirvana Rose is a scent I wear in the spring; I always planned for it to be Kenzie’s scent of choice (vetiver, geranium and rose are the notes). I have to admit I put a lot of my own thoughts and feelings about money and the fantasy of money in this part; I struggle a lot with feeling guilty about wanting luxurious things in my life, so I sort of channeled that for Kenzie’s shyness about spending money that Duncan wants her to have. Had to finally bring in the fact that Cody and Billie are both Cancers. Kenzie’s lifelong imagining that Persephone loved Hades is my lifelong imagining.

Kenzie ran into the Post, her heart fluttering around in her chest like a butterfly trapped in a net. At home. At home. Her parting words to Duncan danced around in her brain, spinning and swaying. See you tonight--at home. She vaguely registered that she and Duncan had had their breathless conversation, between passionate kisses, on the open sidewalk in view of at least fifteen people milling around outside Franklin Square. At least, she thought. Probably a lot more than that, if I’m being realistic. She remembered the blonde woman snapping pictures of them; remembered the eyes of everyone in Emissary staring at her and Duncan as the woman made a scene. Fuck. She rushed into the elevator, her boots clicking in her ears, her bag smacking against her hip. Fuck, she was late. Fuck. At home. See you at home. I’m gonna make you come so fucking hard. Baby. Angel. His breath on her ear as she woke to his touch, the overwhelmingly hungry look in his eyes--storms, thunder--as she sucked his hard cock, the way he’d grabbed her hand holding the water glass and pulled her close to him, his hands on her thigh and against her ass, looking up into her face with that worshipping glint in his sapphire eyes--

FUCK, Kenzie, focus! You’re late for work!

Kenzie just made the elevator, smacking the button for the 10th floor, squeezing in between four other people as the doors slid shut behind her; she glanced down at her phone, dazed, as she heard it trumpet: Clairebear.

MACKENZIE LOUISE, oh my FUCKING GOD! Duncan is fucking beautiful! I see what you mean about his eyes, they’re like jewels?!?! He’s so tall and his hair like WHAT, how does it do that?? Those women in line ahead of you, what the fuck was that all about? I was absolutely STARSTRUCK with how beautiful you looked together, no wonder they noticed you right away, you were like two movie stars or something. He was so lovely and polite, who the fuck knew??? I’m just speechless!!!! You looked so happy, you were LUMINOUS, like you were glowing, bitch, love looks so fucking good on you!!! And the way he looked at you, like you were made out of moonlight or gold or something, fuck! He’s got it fucking BAD for you, I felt like he was singeing the ends my hair with that energy, I had to drink a glass of water when you guys left, WHOO

Kenzie felt the smile spreading across her cheeks as she read her best friend’s ecstatic text. Oh Claire, she thought, you’re so wonderful. She looked up to check the floor (5) and quickly typed:

Clairebear, I was SO HAPPY you were there, oh my god, I’m just so happy, I never knew I could feel so happy, I’m so glad you liked him, I can’t wait for us all to have dinner!!! He said he liked you immediately! Those women took a picture (I think more than one) of us without asking? It was really weird. They recognized Duncan and got shitty when he asked them to delete whatever they took and that’s when they left. I feel weird about it but we couldn’t really do anything?? Oh Clairebear. I’m in love. I really am. I love you, I’m sorry we had to leave so quickly, I’m so late for work. She added a distraught-faced open-mouthed emoji at the end.

She sighed, as if to let out the weight of the emotion that was enveloping her, threatening to crush her, bouncing on her feet a little as she looked up again; 9th floor. Almost there. She checked the clock on her phone. 9:26. Oh fuck. So late. The doors finally slid open and she jumped out, eyeing her little desk in the corner; glancing from side to side. No Candice in sight. That was good. She started to make a beeline to her desk, head down to avoid eye contact with anyone she might see, when someone stepped in front of her, blocking her path--someone wearing wildly colorful, meticulously tailored pants; she looked up into the severe, unimpressed face of Ben Wilder, the Executive Features editor. He was wearing oversized black-framed cat eye glasses and a blazer made of some kind of iridescently shiny, cobalt-red material, a vintage Hermes scarf tucked meticulously into the black pointed hem vest he wore under it, and he was glaring at her with narrowed eyes behind his spectacles. His dark skin was flawless; Kenzie wondered absently for the hundredth time what kind of moisturizer he used. She doubted he told people secrets as important as that one.

“Miss Stone, I have a bone to pick with you.”

“Hi Ben, lovely morning,” she answered nervously, hand coming up to fiddle with her rose quartz. Ben’s lips were pursed and he looked at her with that appraising, Anubis-weighing-the-scales severity that so unnerved every journalist in at the Post. As Executive Features editor, Ben was in charge of surveying that the quality of the Post was always at a high standard; some at the office said an impossibly high standard with Wilder as the critic. His real passion was for the Entertainment and Arts features, however, and he was infamously thorough and up-to-speed with everything happening in the DC art scene. He also knew every hot bit of gossip about every politician in the District; his knowledge was encyclopedic, and exhaustive. And he was giving her a very knowing look indeed.

“I’ve heard a rumor, dear,” he went on, ignoring her hello, “that you had a very busy weekend.”

Kenzie swallowed, her eyes darting from side to side, plotting an exit, her heart slamming into the bottom of her throat, like a dumbbell was suddenly clattering up and down her esophagus.

“On top of some very interesting photos found on certain online rags since yesterday--photos that have begun to trend on Instagram, I might add--a few more photos have materialized on Instagram in the past hour.”

He was silent for a moment, pursing his lips again, staring at her, his eyes unreadable. Kenzie looked up at him; she knew innately that the time for lies was long past, but she thought, wildly: maybe if I don’t say anything he’ll just disappear in a puff of smoke--

“Care to guess what these photos feature, Miss Stone?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

He pursed his lips further at that, lifting his arm and cradling the elbow against the hand pressed across his torso, holding the fingers out in an open gesture toward her that reminded her of Anubis holding some poor mortal’s heart, about to crush it into dust in his claw. Hers. He leaned down, bringing his face close to hers, his voice lowering conspiratorially, though as he had said himself: there wasn’t much of a secret left to keep, was there.

“Who knew a little thing like you would catch Duncan Shepherd’s eye.”

Kenzie pressed her lips together, trying to keep her expression neutral.

“I want an interview.”

“Ben, I--we’ve only been seeing each other for a few days--”

“Get me an interview and I will make sure your editorial gets to the top of the pile. I’ll ensure that when reviews come up, you’re considered very carefully for opportunities.”

“My editorial--my editorial is--” Kenzie suddenly realized wildly: my editorial is the kind of thing that’s going to make Annette Shepherd’s head turn on her shoulders. For real this time.

“You’re in the hot seat now, Miss Stone. You can’t smooch the heir of Shepherd Unlimited--a 3.5 billion dollar global enterprise trying to unseat the President of the United States--on the open sidewalk in front of a posh bistro and expect everyone to turn a blind eye. I suggest you take a look at the narrative unfolding online and get back to me. Promptly.” He stepped away from her, waving his hand a little behind him with infuriating sass, as if to say: see you soon, honey.

Kenzie watched his cobalt-crimson back retreat, her heart still pounding, her head fuzzy. An interview? Her temples throbbed against her skull harshly. How the fuck am I ever going to convince Duncan to do that? And my fucking editorial, FUCK, I didn’t even think about that. As if I need to add more reasons to the pile that is Annette Shepherd’s fuel to hate my guts.

“Mackenzie.”

Kenzie turned at the sound of her name; Candice stood outside her office in the short north hallway, hand resting on the door frame from whence she had just emerged, appraising Kenzie’s flushed face; today her boss wore a long, rose-colored pleated satin skirt, and a high-collared white blouse with a black ribbon tied in a neat knot falling down the front. Her dark eyes met Kenzie’s, framed by her wavy blonde hair that fell around her shoulders, shimmering in the overhead light; their concern sent an icy dagger coursing down Kenzie’s spine. Oh, here we go.

“Come into my office for a minute, please.”

Kenzie swallowed again as Candice vanished through the doorway, stepping up in resignation. I guess this was inevitable, Kenz, she told herself. Ben isn’t wrong. Clearly you’ve underestimated the difficulties that come with dating a man who is wildly rich, handsome, and reputable. And from a family known for stirring up controversy. Suck it up, buttercup.

She timidly stepped through the doorway of Candice’s office; a long window stretched along the back wall of the room, small ferns and falling ivy on the ledge of it, framing Candice’s golden head in a white glow where she sat behind her desk, which was meticulously neat. Kenzie’s eyes fell down to the gold plaque at the front of it, two gold paperweights shaped like open hands on either side of it: Candice Owens, Editor in Chief, The Washington Post.

“Shut the door and sit down, Mackenzie. Please.”

Kenzie carefully set her satchel down beside one of two lemon-colored upholstered chairs facing Candice’s desk, sitting slowly, her hands coming together in her lap. She felt resigned to whatever Candice was about to say; her brain felt fuzzy and faraway, as if she was observing all of this from someone else’s body, uncaring. At home, a voice whispered behind her ear. See you at home.

Candice looked at her for another long moment, her eyes unreadable. Then she spoke.

“I’m sure you’re aware of this already, but your relationship with Duncan Shepherd is about to become public knowledge.”

Kenzie couldn’t find it in herself to tell Candice anything but the truth.

“It’s only been a few days, but...yes. We’re dating.”

“Then I assume, or I want to assume, that you’ve considered the consequences.”

“I won’t let it get in the way of my work, Candice.”

“As you were late this morning, I’m not sure you’re doing a very good job at convincing me of that so far,” Candice replied, her tone even. She turned her head a little, questioning. “You do realize that Duncan Shepherd is a very controversial figure from a very controversial company led by a very controversial, very manipulative, very wealthy family?”

“Yes.”

“Whether you intend it or not, your relationship with him will bring scrutiny on the Post, and it’s going to change your personal life in serious ways as well. It’s only a matter of time before your name and occupation are spread around online. I anticipate that we’ll need to increase security in the building, which is already tight. Your mother being who she is--a staunch and very public opponent of Annette Shepherd’s political agenda--that’s going to cause a real controversy.”

“I’m sorry, Candice. This was all really unexpected...I didn’t expect us to...”

“Fall in love?”

Kenzie swallowed, blinking at her lovely, poised boss, feeling like she was unraveling under her dark-eyed gaze, feeling as though she were a sparrow under the eye of a falcon. Exposed.

“Anyone looking at those pictures could see it, easily. It’s clear that you are in love.”

Kenzie felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes, to her deep dismay. The idea of crying in front of Candice made her feel mortified; her respect for her boss was all-encompassing, akin to the deep admiration she felt for her mother; she was surrounded by so many incredibly strong women. And here I am, she thought, frustration seeping under her skin. A fucking mess.

“We are,” she whispered, her eyes looking down at her hands, afraid to look into Candice’s face again; unsure she could maintain her composure if she did.

“Mackenzie. Does Madeline know?”

Kenzie nodded; she tried to stifle the sniff that came out of her, but failed. She saw Candice lean to a box of tissues behind the desk, pulling a few out quietly. Her boss leaned over her desk, holding them out to her.

“She’s meeting him tomorrow. I haven’t met Annette yet. I’m terrified.”

Silence hung in the room for a moment; a little bonsai fountain in the corner of Candice’s office mingled with the sounds from the street outside; cars beeping and buses rushing by, pigeons outside the window, vague music, drums coming from the park across the street.

“I loved a woman once,” Candice said, surprising Kenzie, “who was the daughter of a prominent Republican Congressman. Her name was Mia. When I asked her if we could be together, she told me she could never disobey her father’s wishes; like we were living in feudal England. That she loved me; that she wanted to be with me; but that she couldn’t, because it would be a betrayal to her family. And she chose them.”

Kenzie wiped at her cheek, her wet eyes lifting up to her boss’ gentle face. She could see the vague shine that had cast itself over them; Candice too was on the edge of tears, but they didn’t fall; they hovered there, trapped in Candice’s resolve. I’m such a crybaby, Kenzie thought. Candice is so beautiful and so strong.

Her boss paused, then went on.

“Professionally, I have serious doubts about the advisability of your attachment to someone so infamous. Men in this town; they want power, and most of them are willing to crush anyone who becomes an obstacle to that power, Republican and Democrat alike. I don’t know Duncan Shepherd; but I know Annette and Bill Shepherd want one thing and one thing only; complete control of Washington D.C. and by association, the trajectory of this country.”

She paused. Kenzie lowered the tissues to her lap, now damp with the whisper of tears that had threatened her. She looks so beautiful this way, Kenzie thought. She thought of Duncan’s statues; Justice, victory, wisdom; all women. To Kenzie, Candice was a higher being, surveying all of humankind with an omniscient eye; like Cassandra, oracle of Troy, all-knowing, perceiving truth and future alike, cursed with her own sorrow and knowledge.

“But personally, I know what it’s like to be torn away from someone you want more than anything. And I would never presume to dictate the love that extends from one heart to another. Love is boundless and obscure, and it does not follow the petty rules set down by human philosophy.”

Kenzie felt her lip tremble again.

“If you need help, Mackenzie: come to me. Don’t hesitate. Promise you’ll do this.”

Kenzie felt another tear fall down her cheek.

“I will. I promise. Candice...thank you. I...I feel overwhelmed by all of this. I never expected this to happen to me. It feels like I’ve been living inside a dream for days.”

She hesitated, sniffing again. “I can’t help but feel...afraid. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and it frightens me.”

Candice stood; moved around her desk, sat in the chair across from Kenzie, and reached out, her hand grasping around Kenzie’s in her lap, clutching the tissues. Mackenzie immediately felt a small wave of warm comfort wash over her, as thought Candice had lit a match and held it close to her skin; close enough for her to feel it, but not to burn her. The tears immediately dried from her eyes, as though someone had held a blowdryer against her cheeks for a moment.

“Fear? What has a man to do with fear? Chance rules our lives, and the future is all unknown. Best live as we may, from day to day.” Candice smiled at her, squeezed her hands a little, her eyes still shining with that hidden sheen. “Sophocles. Oedipus Rex. I was Jocasta in a production in college. I was awful. But I always loved that line.”

Kenzie smiled back at her, finding herself speechless. I still feel as though you know the future, she thought. I wish you could tell me.

“Back to work, Miss Stone. That’ll be all for now. Keep your wits about you,” and Kenzie thought of her mother, their words clashing together, echoing against each other.

Kenzie nodded, clutching Candice’s hand for a moment. Candice held it, and Kenzie felt that warmth spread through her fingers again; felt flashes of light behind her eyes. And then Kenzie stood, grasping the handle of her satchel, and walked to the door, looking at her boss over her shoulder.

“Leave the door open,” Candice said, and turned away.

Kenzie went to her desk, falling into her swivel chair with a heavy relief. She pulled her Macbook out of her satchel, setting it on her desk and opening it, her article coming up as the screen illuminated. She went to type towards the end of it, and balked. I guess I need to look at Instagram, she thought with another twinge of apprehension making its jagged way through her mind and stomach. She pulled her phone from her satchel, tucking the bag under her desk; as she lifted the phone to her face, the lock screen illuminated and she saw a text from Duncan.

I meant to mention it a few times, but keep getting distracted in you (Kenzie smiled at that). The Shepherd Freedom Foundation Gala is next week. It’s a huge event for the company every year and it has a strict dress code and a theme...my mother wants you to go to her personal stylist to find a dress for it. If you hate whatever he picks out, you don’t have to wear it. But my mother’s being really insistent about you doing a fitting with her. Is that okay?

Kenzie couldn’t stop smiling, despite her twinge of annoyance at the idea of someone else telling her what to wear; Are you asking me to be your date to the Gala, Mr. Shepherd? She typed.

She saw the telltale text bubbles appear under her reply almost immediately.

Yes, please? The theme is Gold in the Darkness: the juxtaposition of light and shadow in the works of the Pre-Raphaelite movement. I chose it, because it reminded me of you.

Kenzie breathed in sharply. Duncan had created the theme around her. The thought stunned her, made her skin feel hot, made her legs and the back of her head tingle. More to get used to, I guess. Whew, Kenzie Lou. Whose life are you living now?

That’s beautiful, baby, she replied. I can’t believe you did that.

Since you’re the only thing I can think about, it seemed natural. His reply popped up immediately. Kenzie imagined him sitting in the back of the BMW or in a meeting or in some gilded interview chair, staring down expectantly at his phone. She loved to think of him so distracted by her, though she felt a twinge of guilt. The drug that was his attention, his gaze, his touch; she wanted more, she couldn’t help it. She wanted him, all of him, his beauty within her sphere always.

I think those women from the coffee shop posted something on Instagram already, she typed, biting her lip. My coworker said something to me as soon as I got into the office. She left her talk with Candice out of it. She felt worried Duncan would be upset about her boss’ concern; there was a part of her that wanted to keep her conversation with the other woman between the two of them for as long as she could. I have to talk to him about it in person, she thought. When I feel less...unhinged.

Fuck, I had a feeling they wouldn’t waste any time, Duncan replied. My mother doesn’t want me to talk about you in interviews yet. She’s worried about the “optics”, her personal obsession in all things. But I don’t care. I love you. Let me know if anything else weird like this morning happens again. I have a feeling it will and I want you to feel safe. I can hire you a private escort as soon as you feel like you need one. And I’m going to send you Samuel’s contact right now; I sent him yours already. Please text him when you’re done with work, he can take you anywhere you need to go. I can take an Uber later. I don’t think you should take the train as often, at least, not for a little while, until the media stuff dies down. And I don’t think it’s going to for a little while.

The distinct iPhone contact bubble appeared under Duncan’s text; Samuel Adebayo.

A wave of dizziness washed over Kenzie again. I don’t think you should take the train as often. She thought of the way the woman had snapped pictures of them, the photos of them on the gossip website. A private escort? It was as if she’d been sucked out of the normal world and sucked into another one, a different timeline where nothing made sense. 

Okay, baby. I feel overwhelmed.

Duncan: I’m here. Anything you need or want from me, tell me right away. This will get easier in time, baby. I promise. I’m already dreaming about how hard I’m gonna make you come tonight. At home.

Her nerves thrilled again. At home. The thought of living at Duncan’s penthouse even sometimes was too dreamlike to even really consider. The fact that she was going to go there tonight with her own key made her feel like her stomach was trying to turn over inside her. She felt goosebumps on her arms again.

I’m dreaming about you too, baby, she typed. She left the lipstick stain emoji at the end.

Kenzie opened the Instagram app on her phone, squinting in apprehension. An alert flashed at the bottom: 2,457 new followers, 1,345 new comments, 567 new likes. Her eyes goggled. What. She hit the outlined heart at the bottom of the screen; she scrolled down; mention after mention of her handle (@kenzielouwho) on several posts made by other accounts. Oh god, they found my Instagram, she thought, closing her eyes for a moment in horror. We found it she’s @kenzielouwho her mom is Madeline Stone omg omg one said. Holy shit remember this this is @kenzielouwho’s mom ripping @duncanshepherd’s mom a new asshole another one said, accompanied by a link. Kenzie clicked it; it led to the infamous YouTube video of Annette storming off the air at C-SPAN after Madeline’s comments. Kenzie went back to Instagram. I don’t know why @duncanshepherd would even be interested in her she’s not even that pretty another one said. Kenzie made a face. Because I guess he should date you instead, she thought, and then immediately felt guilty. Ugh, this is weird. Kenzie went to one of the photos that many of the comments seemed to originate from. It was clearly the account of the woman who had taken the photo of them at Emissary earlier that morning; her handle (@greatpatriotjane, Kenzie winced) was a dead giveaway, accompanied by a photo of her in an American flag bikini and a spray tan. The latest photo was Kenzie and Duncan, of course; they were looking to the side of where she’d pointed the lens, probably towards the other woman in pinstripes, Kenzie tucked under Duncan’s arm, her hair pressed into his leather jacket and falling against her cheek, a tiny frown crossing her features; one of her hands was at her breast, fingers around her rose quartz, the other hand disappeared behind Duncan’s back. Duncan’s hand was around the crook of her elbow, holding her close to him, his expression concerned, his brow furrowed; his black phone rested, forgotten, in his other hand, which was raised slightly, at his torso. We do look nice together. He looks so tall. His hair falls so perfectly. He’s holding me so gently. He’s so handsome. I look scared. That’s accurate. I felt scared. I hated it. God, he’s so beautiful. And he’s holding me.

He’s your boyfriend, Kenzie, of course he is.

Saw @duncanshepherd with his newest girlyfriend at the coffee shop this morning!!! The woman had written below. He’s so sexy in person it’s RIDICULOUS, probably has a new girl on his arm every day!!! Kenzie snorted, biting into her lip. I guess this could be worse, she thought. We look annoyed but we look really good, at least, Duncan does, and I don’t look hideous, and she didn’t know my handle...I guess someone else found that. She went back to her mentions; there was another prominent post that lots of people seemed to have commented on that was more recent; Kenzie went to it (the handle was @geminibabiered; the account photo was a selfie of a girl with long, dark, very straight hair and heavy eye makeup taken in a bathroom mirror). There were several shots of--oh my god, already--she and Duncan standing on the sidewalk outside One Franklin Square a mere hour or so before now, wrapped in a passionate kiss, clearly taken in succession; this one a true kiss, of course, unlike the photo that had been captured of them outside Le Diplomate; Duncan’s hands were around her, in her hair, at her cheek, their mouths open against each other, eyes closed. He’s so much taller than me, Kenzie marvelled. At Franklin Square and @duncanshepherd runs after this girl who just got out of his BMW ahead of him and MACKS ON HER LIKE CRAZY in front of like 20 people, they said something to each other and then she like RAN away from him into the Post building, omg I bet she works there, DUNCAN SHEPHERD fucking a girl who works for the Washington Post like I am REELING the caption read. Fuuuuuck, Kenzie thought. This one is a lot worse. She noticed the comment proclaiming excitement at having found her handle was under this post; couldn’t have been that hard, my photo’s up on the Post website.

She noticed that Duncan had followed her, though, a small silver lining, she thought, smiling at his profile picture. It was professionally shot and black-and-white (he looks like a classic movie star, she thought dreamily), his hair tossed back from his forehead in a perfect cascade, his eyes illuminated but looking off-center, his expression calm and serious, that constant five o’clock shadow prominent (I love that, she thought, I love that stubble, pressing my mouth along its prickly curve, clutching his face there as we’re fucking), wearing one of the high black Oxford collars he was so fond of. Kenzie hit the follow button on his account, scrolling down; some of his posts had to do with the company and the TV show, but most of his posts were a plethora of professionally-shot images, including some from a recent profile he’d done for Esquire (one of him in a long black coat, lounging lazily in a throne-like chair, his hair even more artfully tossed than it normally was, his blue eyes staring off toward unseen subjects, one of him in a thick, dark gray Irish Fisherman sweater, eyes squinted, hand at his lips in that tick he did when he was thinking or nervous, one of him in a well-tailored blazer and band-collared shirt, adjusting his cuffs facetiously, a silver band, like a very simple crown, across his forehead; Duncan Shepherd: Heir Apparent, Prince Presumptive the editorial read). She double-tapped them, the heart floating in front of her, dizzily admiring how ridiculously beautiful he was yet again; I still can’t believe any of this. 7.8M followers, 124 following. She inhaled sharply. 7.8 million followers, holy shit. Millions of people to critique her. Millions of people about to leave a comment that said she “wasn’t even that pretty”. Fun shit, Kenzie, a real hoot. You’ve really put your foot in it now.

She noticed he’d gone through the past few months of her photos and liked most of them; especially the ones of her laughing or smiling, or of her outfits or her plants, anything that was really her. On one photo of her (one Claire had taken of her at Emissary at the end of the previous summer, on a balmy September afternoon, under the canopy of their outdoor seating; Kenzie wore a white sundress and a light gray sweater that was falling off one shoulder in it, looking off to the side, a frosty Aperol spritzer in front of her, her hair down and wind-tossed, a little rose-gold moon pendant at her throat, a faraway smile on her face; Clairebear always takes the best pictures of me, she’d written for the caption, followed by the celestial sun face emoji), Kenzie noticed he’d left several heart-pierced-by-an-arrow emojis. She realized this was the first time she’d seen him use emojis; they were never in his text messages. His comment already had hundred of likes; she didn’t dare look at the comments under it. But it was as if she could feel the tenderness with which he’d looked through her posts, and it made her chest feel warm and hazy. She felt her cheeks glowing; she brought a thumb to her mouth, teeth biting her nail in her shyness. Deep into the funnel of love, she thought, unprompted. She shivered a little. The last time she had looked at her profile, she’d had 400-some followers; now, she had over 3,000, and counting. Fuuuuuck. Don’t even look at the comments, Kenz. Don’t do this to yourself.

Kenzie set her phone down on her desk, pressing her fingers into the corners of her eyes where she’d started to feel the low pressure of a migraine. Suddenly, she turned her phone over and shoved it away from her, shaking her hair back. Fuck this, she thought. I have work to do. To hell with Instagram. And to hell with Annette Shepherd for that matter. I refuse to be afraid of her. And fuck any-fucking-body who wants to try to tell me I’m not good enough, pretty enough, or ENOUGH for Duncan Shepherd. I am. I’m fucking great. Sun shines out of my ass. She turned to her Macbook, reading the last few lines she’d written: the prevalence of PAC donors manipulating political narratives and candidates is a serious problem in American politics, and new policies must be enacted to ensure upcoming elections are just and fair to all candidates, regardless of their ability to receive funding from wealthy donors. Good, Kenzie thought. Now, keep going. She got to work, leaving her phone face-down, determined not to look at it again until her article was finished. Or maybe never again, she thought, feeling a wave of nausea climb up the wall of her stomach.  Maybe social media isn’t going to be fun anymore. So to hell with that too.

------

Kenzie rubbed her eyes. She’d just hit send in the email containing her finished article to Ben and Candice. She looked over at her phone, which was still face-down, hesitating. She’d eaten lunch without looking at it; gone back to writing without looking at it; left it on her desk every time she took a bathroom break. It’d taken all her resolve (what if Duncan texts me), but going on Instagram had shaken her badly; it had made a realization sink into the pit of her that she hadn’t really come to terms with yet. Your life is going to be different now, Kenzie Lou. And she wasn’t sure how to deal with that. She had always loved and appreciated privacy; had decided on a tiny apartment so she could avoid living with roommates; felt shy when she was the center of attention, and cried easily. How am I going to be this other person, she thought. This person dating the heir to billions of dollars; this person with thousands of Instagram followers, this person who has her picture taken by strangers in public places. I should call Momby. But as soon as she had the thought, she pushed it away. If she called her mother already, Madeline would say I told you so. I told you this man wasn’t right for you. And Kenzie couldn’t listen to that. Duncan was right for her; she felt that in her bones, in the pit of her gut, in the center of her heart. It was all this other stuff that was frightening and upsetting to her; not him. Not Duncan. He was her calm oasis in the scorching desert; her little island on a stormy sea, her blanket to hide under in the thunderstorm. When he was near her, her soul nestled into peace and joy and desire. It’s the best feeling I’ve ever had, she thought. Like going home after a long day and falling into bed, listening to rain fall outside your window. Only, it’s a person. My person.

She turned her phone over. Two texts. One from Duncan, one from Clairebear.

Duncan: I love the photos on your Instagram, they’re so beautiful. Almost as beautiful as you are. I saw the video and the photo that woman took. It doesn’t matter; don’t read the comments if you can help it, it’s all nonsense. This will all mellow out soon, don’t worry too much about it, it’s just something new for people to latch onto, and people get distracted easily. Let me know if you need anything from me. I can’t wait to see you in a few hours. I love you.

Kenzie felt a wave of warmth spread over her as she read it. Beloved, she thought, the word seeping into her as if it had drifted out of a dream. He is my beloved. I can see his hidden soul and it’s beautiful beyond all description. Her hands shook as little as she replied. I’m okay, it’s just disorienting. I love those Esquire photos of you so much (here she inserted the heart-eyes emoji). I finished my article, I’m going to send Samuel a message in a minute and go to Georgetown to get some stuff to make for dinner and some clothes and toiletries to keep at your house. It will be such a relief to see you...at home. I love you too.

She read the other text from Claire.

Clairebear: You’ve probably seen Instagram already, but holy shit, what a hot mess. Just don’t look at it if you can help it, some people are insane. I love you and I’m here if you need anything from me.

She felt another warm hand clutch around her heart. I’m so lucky, she thought. To be loved so genuinely by the people in my life. I’m so lucky to have these people to love. I’m grateful.

Thanks, Clairebear, she replied. You are a darling to me and I appreciate you every day. I’m gonna stay off Instagram for a few days, I think. I looked at it this morning and it freaked me out, haha. Duncan seems to think it’ll calm down eventually, so I’m following his lead here. He’s way more used to stuff like this than I am. He gave me a key to his apartment and an expense account, I’m just...he wants me to keep stuff at his penthouse. I still feel like I’m trapped in a dream. This is all so surreal.

Kenzie texted her mother next.

Momby, Duncan and I would like to have dinner with you tomorrow night at Busboys and Poets. Is 7 PM okay? We can pick you up or we can meet you there, whatever you want to do. He’s really looking forward to meeting you. I love you to the moon and back, she added; a phrase they’d used with each other since she was a little girl.

She took a deep breath, setting the phone down. She closed her Macbook, slipping it into her Margaux satchel; she noticed as she did that she must have put Duncan’s cardigan absently into her bag at some point between last night and today, because it was stuffed in the bottom. She pulled it out carefully, shaking it a little, pulling it around her shoulders. You can do this, Kenz, she thought. Just pretend it’s a game, like when you were little. You’re Princess Diana; you’re calling your magical car to take you to the movie theater, the imaginary one with endless pizza.

She was about to text Samuel under the number Duncan had given her when she noticed some of her coworkers milling around by the windows against the east wall of the office; staring down onto the street with curiosity on their faces, whispering to each other, some of them glancing over at her. She stood up and walked over to them; Ben gave her another coy, perturbed look with his lips pressed, as if he knew something she didn’t; he walked away from her as she approached him, waving a hand behind him again, before she could ask him what everyone was staring at. She looked after him, frustrated, an exasperated noise falling out of her. She noticed Precious and Zadie, two of her coworkers, talking in low voices to each other a few feet away, both of them staring out the window in concentration.

“Hey, Precious, hey Zadie--what’s going on? What are you looking at?” She felt suddenly afraid to peer out the window from the way Ben had reacted to her.

Zadie didn’t say anything, giving Kenzie an odd look, one that was sort of a mixture of pity and nervous excitement, her long, straight hair falling down her shoulders, her arms crossed under her little breasts, her lips closed. Precious gave Kenzie a look of vague annoyance and disbelief, one of her hands coming around to play with the big golden lion pendant around her neck. She nodded at the glass. “Kenzie, see for yourself. This is obviously for you.”

Kenzie bit her lip, set her nerves, and looked out.

Near the entrance of One Franklin Square, she could see the clustered heads of a group of probably twenty reporters with recorders and microphones, huddled on the sidewalk as if they were a pride of lions gazing carefully on unsuspecting antelopes at a waterhole, laying in wait. Oh shit. The press had found her.

“Fuck,” she breathed.

“Unfortunately, it would seem, kissing Duncan Shepherd in full view of a Tuesday morning crowd at one of DC’s busiest parks has some consequences,” Precious said, not unkindly. She looked at Kenzie knowingly, then turned, walking back to her desk, the graphic tee she wore flashing its cheeky mantra at Kenzie as she went; If you can’t handle the heat, the front said, and Kenzie watched her back retreat; get your face out of my oven. Zadie gave her another quiet, sympathetic look. “Maybe Candice will know what to do?” she said. Her brown eyes flickered over Kenzie with that same mixture of pity and odd thrill. It was clear Zadie couldn’t help but find this sort of exciting, and Kenzie envied her coworker’s ability to see it as an outsider; they aren’t here to follow you out the door, Kenzie thought. You get to observe and go home as usual. She wasn’t upset with Zadie for this; on the contrary, she felt a wave of envy wash over her. That sense of anonymity seems to have slipped away from me overnight, she thought. And now I’m not sure who this new girl is; the girl these reporters are waiting for.

She walked away from Zadie, feeling oddly disembodied, towards Candice’s office; Zadie’s eyes followed her as she went, curious. Kenzie rapped carefully two times. “Come in,” she heard Candice’s kind voice call out.

“Candice, I’m sorry,” Kenzie said, stepping into her boss’ office for the second time that day, meeting Candice’s warm eyes with alarm seeping out of her own. “But...I need your help already.”

------

With Candice’s help, Kenzie had managed to slip out through the back entrance; this one was usually reserved for delivery trucks, with a long ramp that slanted down, trash and recycling bins lined up against one side of the concrete. She’d texted Samuel less than ten minutes before; and here he was, to her vast, wild relief; the BMW idled on the corner quietly, its tinted window betraying nothing of the tranquil interior to the occasional pedestrian on the side-street. Kenzie stepped quickly down the ramp from the backdoor from whence she’d just emerged, looking carefully from side to side, hoping against hope; she’d almost made it to the car when she heard a loud voice to her left, a bark of sound that made her jump, her eyes darting in the direction it had come from.

“Miss Stone, Miss Stone! Mackenzie Stone!” A man in casual clothing, a smattering of beard around his face and the shiny pate of his balding head reflecting the late afternoon sunlight, was walking briskly in her direction, holding a camera carefully on his shoulder; he was flanked by a woman in a tight champagne-pink pencil skirt and blazer, and it was her sharp voice that Kenzie had heard; she was holding out a microphone, the kind Kenzie had used herself for press conferences and soundbites outside courtrooms, but the image of one being pushed towards her was odd and alien, and she balked, her eyes freezing on them. Her blood froze, and she suddenly felt as though she couldn't move; the microphone came under her and she shied away from them, her body singing with adrenaline almost immediately; she felt nauseous and panicked for an instant, and then she saw Samuel stepped out of the car, oh thank god, and his strong, warm arm was coming around her, and he was opening the backdoor of the BMW and pushing her gently inside, the man with the camera still trying to angle it onto her (“Miss Stone, are you and Mr. Shepherd romantically involved? Are you privy to the Shepherd Unlimited corporation and its assets? Are you engaged? What are your feelings about President Underwood?”, the woman’s sharp voice was ringing in her ears), and Samuel barked at him to step back (he did with an alarmed look; Samuel was at least a foot taller than him); the door shut with a sharp click and she could see them pressing against the dark window, trying to see inside, the woman still pressing the microphone into the window, the man still angling the camera on it; she could still see them but they could no longer see her through the tinted glass, and Samuel was suddenly, with supernatural swiftness, back in the driver’s seat, his foot on the gas, accelerating away in a blink.

----

“Miss Stone, are you alright?” Samuel’s eyes peered over the rearview at her, his brown eyes concerned and full of empathy. He was driving carefully, smoothly now; the last few minutes had been a blur as Samuel weaved through the narrow streets with an alarming agility; he was losing anyone who might try to follow us, Kenzie thought in a daze, but they were now heading south towards Georgetown, according to the GPS, at a much more measured, casual pace.

Kenzie was breathing slowly in the backseat, her fingers clutching the strap of her satchel with white hands; staring off into space. Her attention floated back from the nether into which it had drifted; adrenaline crashed down through her, and she noticed she’d started to shake. She noted, vaguely, that soft music drifted from the speakers; bewitched, bothered and bewildered am I / couldn’t sleep and wouldn’t sleep….when love came and told me, I shouldn’t sleep…

“I...I think so…” she murmured softly. She put her satchel at her feet, feeling for her phone; her hand closed around its smooth rectangle, and she felt relief flood through her. She held it in her lap, gazing down at it in a stupor; Duncan had texted her again.

Did you text Samuel? I’ll be in a meeting for another hour or so, and then I have to pick something up. I should be home by 7:30. I’m so excited to have dinner. At home. With you.

Kenzie looked dazedly at the time; it was just after 4:30.

There were a bunch of reporters waiting outside the building when I tried to leave work, she replied. My boss helped me through the back door, but two of them still found me. Thankfully Samuel was there, but I think they got me on camera. I don’t know who they were with. I’m okay. Samuel was wonderful. I’ll be so relieved to see you, baby.

“Samuel?”

“Yes, Miss Stone?”

“Please call me Mackenzie.”

“Of course, Miss Mackenzie. I would love to. Where should we go, Miss Mackenzie? This car is yours now, like it is Mr. Shepherd’s. I’m at your service, as I am at his.”

Kenzie hesitated, feeling disoriented. Her head was pounding.

“Miss Mackenzie,” Samuel went on, softly. “This will get easier. Duncan cares very deeply for you. I have seen it; I know it is true. You can trust him. He is cradling your heart in his hands. You have kindled the desire for life in him. Through love, all things are possible.”

Kenzie closed her eyes for a moment; Ella’s voice washed over her. I’m in love and don’t I show it / like a babe in arms…

“Thank you, Samuel. Thank you for your help back there. I was absolutely terrified.”

“I am here for you now, Miss Mackenzie. There is nothing to fear. Now, where do you want to go? I will take you anywhere.”

“Georgetown is okay, Samuel. I just need to go to Dean and DeLuca to get some things for dinner, and some of the clothing shops. It shouldn’t take too long. Thank you so much.”

“Miss Mackenzie, whatever you want, it is a pleasure. Mr. Shepherd is lucky to have you; I will do whatever I can to help him make you happy.” Kenzie smiled at him sweetly through the mirror; she felt full to the brim with emotion, far beyond words.

“I wish I could talk to him now,” she whispered softly.

“He’s with you. You will bring each other strength. This time of turmoil will be brief; your life will be long.”

Kenzie nodded a little, feeling the telltale stinging of tears in her eyes again. Someday, she mused,  I’ll have cried enough. Someday, I’ll be done crying. But not yet.

-------

Samuel was an excellent chauffeur (of course he is, Kenzie thought); he pulled up smoothly to the side of Wisconsin Avenue, hopping out of the driver’s seat and opening the door for her, holding out his hand. “Miss Mackenzie, do you want an escort?”

Kenzie shook her head, as much to decline as to clear the residue of tears from her head and her cheeks, and stepped from the backseat of the BMW, clutching her satchel and his hand as she got out. “No thank you, Samuel. I really want to do this alone, if that’s okay.”

“Of course it is, Miss Mackenzie. Please let me know when you need me; I’ll be nearby.”

She smiled up at him, nodding. He smiled back at her, giving her hand a little squeeze before he let go, stepping back around the car into the driver’s seat, and accelerating away from her slowly. She slipped her phone into one of the pockets of her long skirt, bringing the strap of her bag around the crook of her elbow. The sun was still out, steady and strong in the late May sky; dreamy cumulus clouds scudded over it every now and then, and the sapphire of the heavens behind them reminded her of Duncan’s eyes; everything reminds me of him now, she thought. Colors, smells, the touch of his cardigan against her arms. I want to feel his faith that everything will be fine. So I’ll pretend I feel it. I’ll pretend I’m confident, despite all of this. I will pretend I’m strong.

She breathed deeply; then she stepped toward the open entryway of the nearest shop; it was a Madewell, the May breeze coasting behind her through the blue doors which were thrown wide to the perfect weather. Kenzie knew her own style and taste well; it didn’t take her long to find outfits she loved that she knew would suit her; of course, the idea of an unlimited budget was one she wasn’t familiar with, and she couldn’t deny it was thrilling. A girl could get used to this, too. She perused the brick-lined walls with a careful precision. She’d loved clothes all her life; she could see how much Duncan loved and appreciated them as well, and her skin tingled thinking of the way he’d gazed over every outfit she’d worn around him thus far; the thought of him admiring her in anything she chose today was electrifying; the memory of his eyes on her like that made her feel drunk. She thought of the clothes she was choosing hanging in his walk-in closet, beside his perfectly pressed, perfectly tailored black clothing, and shivered a little. Together. She found a strappy, hemmed denim dress that fell to her ankles; a slip dress in a color that reminded her of grapes in sunlight; a long black chiffon dress with short sleeves and a slit up the side, covered in tiny flowers; a sweater dress with buttons down the sleeves; her thoughts drifted towards oncoming summer, choosing short denim skirts and velvet cami tops, a denim bell-sleeve top with a wrap around the middle that reminded her of a shirt her mother wore in a photo (taken in the 70’s) that was tucked into Kenzie’s bathroom mirror; a black top with a front-tie, and several mock neck crop tops with long sleeves in several colors; gray, mulberry red, dark brown. She picked up a pair of black suede boots and a pair of darkly tan leather Reagan boots; boots go with everything. She found a long necklace with tiny stars; two tiny chain bracelets with moons; little rose-gold earrings that reminded her of her succulents, and a slim black convertible bag with a gold-button clasp that she thought would be perfect for going out on evenings. Everything she picked was personal; a reflection of her.

She piled the things on the counter; the girl behind it had long dark hair tied back in a casual braid, and a warm stare. She was looking at Kenzie with a funny expression, though her smile was friendly.

“Did you find everything okay?” She asked.

“Yes, thanks,” Kenzie smiled back at her. She pulled her long black wallet from her satchel; suddenly, she felt nervous about using the card Duncan had given her. Ever since she’d gotten her job at the Post as a staff writer, she’d gained a sense of pride in using her own money; money she’d earned herself, with her writing. Using someone else’s felt strange. Then, Duncan’s voice floated into her head. Everything is okay. It makes me happy to give you these things. Please, accept them? She pulled the card out of her wallet, gripping it firmly.

The girl quoted the price to her; it was over $900 for everything she’d picked out. Kenzie handed her the card, her lips pressed firmly together. The girl swiped the card, but not before Kenzie noticed her eyes go wide from glancing at the name, a long receipt printed out.

“I thought you looked familiar.”

Kenzie felt her blood chill in her veins.

“I--I saw that video on Instagram,” the girl said, putting Kenzie’s clothes carefully into two white shopping bags with Madewell in black lettering along the side. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be so nosy, shit. You’re so lucky. He’s, like, the hottest guy ever. Good luck with everything, really.”

Kenzie blushed deeply, unsure of what to say. Today is the weirdest day of my life in a long string of weird days, she thought. “Um, thank you.” The girl passed the bags to her, shyly looking back at the register, clearly embarrassed. Kenzie turned, feeling disoriented again, and walked out of the shop. Back on the street she let the sun fall on her, warming her skin; just breathe, Kenzie Lou, her mother’s voice drifting into her mind again. She draped the Madewell bags over her arm, her satchel slung over her shoulder. She felt dizzy with the money she’d just theoretically spent. Don’t know if I’ll ever get used to this, she thought. And every piece of clothing in Duncan’s closet costs as much as I just racked up.

Kenzie turned the corner, walking up to where she knew she’d find a Sephora; make-up is so fucking expensive, she thought. I’ve lived on ramen for days to buy hair products and foundation. She perused the perfect lines of lipstain and eyeliner, picking out her standards; it would be a relief to have makeup and face wash and a hairbrush at Duncan’s penthouse, at least, if she was going to be there constantly (in various states of undress and dishevelment, she thought, unable to suppress the giggle that bubbled up). She picked up a full-size bottle of Nirvana Rose, her favorite scent, relishing the feeling of it in her hands; she only ever bought the roller-balls, it was so expensive. She imagined it sitting beside Duncan’s bottles of cologne in his giant bathroom with a thrill. Together. She imagined her hairbrush on his sink, her toothbrush next to his, her shampoo and conditioner in his (fuck) shower beside his. Together. It made her feel absolutely high. Knowing he wanted her things there. Knowing he wanted her there.

Kenzie had one more stop to make; she carefully perused the shelves of Dean and DeLuca, the fanciest grocer’s she had ever been to and normally could not begin to afford. She had been planning the dinner she’d make in her head since she came up with the idea to cook for Duncan; cooking was something that gave her a lot of peace of mind and comfort, and she felt, somehow, that she wanted to give this to him; she wondered how long it had been since someone who loved him had made him food. It was something her mother did for her all the time; something that made her feel close to her mother, something that gave her comfort, soothed her. She could see the ways that making food for someone was like telling them she loved them; this is for you. I made it for you, because I love you. It will nourish your body and bring you joy and I made it. Despite the difficult trajectory of her day, Kenzie felt innately that having a meal together would be healing for both of them tonight; unlike the prying eyes of the patrons of Le Diplomate, this would be just the two of them, with no one to spy. The thought filled her with relief, flowing through her body like the first hit of a bowl of good weed. Alone, together.

Once she was finished, she texted Samuel, trying to juggle a half a dozen bags in her arms now; as was his way, he pulled around within minutes to where she stood on the sidewalk outside the posh grocer’s. He immediately jumped out to help her with all her bags; she smiled at him, thanking him warmly. This man is so wonderful, she thought, sending out all the warm energy she could muster towards Samuel’s back bent over the BMW’s trunk, where he carefully placed her assorted bags. I already trust him with my life.

It only took a few scant minutes to make it back to Duncan’s high-rise from where she’d been shopping; its glittering facade was very still in the afternoon sun, and the street was surprisingly quiet. Samuel pulled up quietly to the curb, hopping out again to pull her door open; “Miss Mackenzie, please go inside, I will be up with the bags shortly. Don’t you worry.” Kenzie hesitated, feeling self-conscious, tucking stray hairs behind her ear; she glanced at her phone. It was almost 6.

“Okay. Do I need to tell the doorman anything?”

“Miss Mackenzie, they will know who you are. Duncan has told them everything.”

She balked at that. Told them everything. I hope not. She blushed.

----

Kenzie stepped into the building; a tall, portly, middle-aged doorman opened it for her, nodding to her politely. She felt odd, being there alone. The foyer was spotlessly clean, everything in gilded gold and polished marble. Another man sat at the front desk; he was short with closely-shaved hair and a tiny moustache, his slender eyes indicating his Asian lineage. He was deeply absorbed in a copy of Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller. Kenzie approached him quietly, one hand clutching the strap of her satchel against her shoulder, the other buried in one of the pockets of her long skirt.

“I’m...going up to Mr. Shepherd’s penthouse.”

He glanced up at her, a gentle smile falling across his face. “I’m Anchaly. You must be Mackenzie Stone. Very good, Miss Stone. If you ever need anything, please let me know.”

“I’m a Cancer, you know,” she replied.

“I’m sorry?”

“That book you’re reading. My zodiac sign is Cancer.”

“Ahhhh. Children of the moon.”

She laughed at that, surprised. “I suppose so, yes.”

“Mr. Shepherd is also a Cancer. How fortuitous. Two moon children in love.”

She blushed. Two moon children in love. “Today has been a very strange day.”

“I find that strange days are often the best days, in retrospect.”

“It was nice to meet you, Anchaly.”

“Likewise, Miss Stone.”

Anchaly leaned back down towards his book; she stepped away from the counter. I’m not one to disturb a reader twice, she thought, walking over to the gold-embossed elevators and pressing the up arrow. She thought of the night she’d first come here with Duncan; both of them locked in a passionate embrace, locked in the passionate feeling of each other’s energy, locked in the moment. Who would have thought it’d become something so real? She thought. Who would have thought something so impulsive would become...what it’s becoming. Her heart shivered. Who would have thought I’d fall in love with him this way. She stepped inside, letting the doors slide shut behind her; staring at herself for a moment in the full-length mirror against the wall; her eyes looked tired, small dark circles vaguely visible under them, her eyeliner beginning to smudge. She brought a hand to the rose quartz at her neck for the hundredth time that day; for love, she thought. Duncan’s penthouse was at the top of a 30-story high-rise. She pressed the 30 button (it was silver with black numbers), knowing full well his penthouse was the only residence on that floor. It made her shiver a little again. She pulled her wallet out again, fingers falling over the credit card he’d given her for a moment before moving on to the keycard; she pulled it out, studying it. It had a another silver 30 on it, and the name SHEPHERD, DUNCAN in silver Garamond lettering beside the numbers. The card was jet-black with a strip on the opposite side; other than these features, the card was blank. It was heavy in her hand, made of some kind of metal (titanium, maybe...like that Black AmEx Duncan has). It felt expensive, like the card alone had cost a lot of money. It probably did. She was gazing at it still in the elevator’s warm golden light when the doors slid open on the 30th floor.

Kenzie stepped out towards Duncan’s long black door, thinking again of a few nights ago when he had fumbled the key there; her arm reaching out to steady him, her lips pressing against him. Where did all that bravery go? She wondered. I could use a bourbon now, honestly. She held the card out to the slot beside Duncan’s door, annoyed with herself when she saw her hand shaking; as if you’ve never been here, she said to herself. She pulled at the small gold knob and stepped inside as a low beep rang out; closing the door behind her, breathing out slowly, carefully, her eyes falling on the pristine quiet of Duncan’s apartment.

Being here alone was odd; she felt like an intruder, as though she was here without anyone’s permission, though she knew deep down that wasn’t true. She was struck yet again by how beautiful everything he owned was; how elegant and pristine and quiet and exquisite. She moved past the vast kitchen, the diamond-drop chandelier winking at her; into his huge front room with its low leather couch and the silent, watchful eyes of the three statues (Dike, the goddess of Justice, lifting her scales, Nike, goddess of Victory, headless and winged, Athena, goddess of Wisdom, in her battle armor) on three separate corbels, two against the wall of the study, one against the wall leading to the bedroom; the wall that she faced there was made entirely of one long sheet of weather-proof, bullet-proof glass, the view she’d neglected to admire the last few times she’d been in this room, too lost in the weight of Duncan to care about anything else. She walked up to it now, gazing out on the nation’s capital city. In the daylight, it was mostly smatterings of white and cream with patches of trees, gray against the blue and white of the sky. She supposed that if she ever remembered to look, it must be magnificent at night, with the city spread out in glittering electric lights. She turned to look at Nike, who was closest to her; she trailed one hand over the back of the statue’s left wing, loving the coolness of the marble stone under her hand. Three women, powerful and wise. She loved these statues; that Duncan had them displayed so prominently in his home was of some comfort to her. She had no doubt that he admired strong women; his fierce love for his mother most evident. Having been raised by a mostly-single mother herself, she wondered if it wasn’t so much of the reason he had turned out the way he had; with a hidden depth of feeling, a hidden shine of the soul, one that extended beyond his (admittedly overwhelming) physical beauty. She hoped again, in her own silent way, that she and Annette could find a way to be friends; find some meeting of the minds, at least when it came to Duncan. We both love him, she thought. At least we have that in common.

On the wall that faced opposite Duncan’s study was a series of four paintings of identical size in gold frames, and unlike The Youth of Bacchus, these seemed to be high-quality prints rather than the originals (I guess most of these paintings actually hang in museums, she thought); she had noticed them before, that first morning, (Pre-Raphaelites, she had thought then, and they were), but studied them more carefully now; each was a woman who appeared to represent a different time of day, the first with long red hair, bathed in soft lights with plants growing behind her (the morning, Kenzie thought), the next floating in sunlight, holding a branch out to a bird, leaves in her hair (the day), and then next, she with her pose of ecstasy, the waters of the sea at her feet, a moon rising behind her (twilight) and then she bathed in shadow, her mantle black, storm clouds behind her (the night). Kenzie loved them immediately and fiercely; goddesses of nature and time, she thought, a hand reaching out towards she of the Twilight; towards the moon that hung over her head. For women create all things.

Kenzie moved through the door to Duncan’s study, holding her breath; then she turned and gazed, eyes widening, at the beauty that was The Youth of Bacchus, in all its real splendor. Looking at it sober, she still somehow felt drunk on it. She could see the ridges and bumps of Bouguereau’s paint; see the brushstrokes around the eyes of the revelers, the skin of the maiden in the center, white and bare. Oh for the hundredth time today, she thought, feeling her tears. But she couldn’t help it. It was perhaps the most beautiful object she had ever seen. The thought of seeing it every day; of being near it, living beside it, moved her utterly. She turned away from it, toward his bookcases stretching along the walls behind the desk; they encompassed all genres, but she noticed that many of them were mythology books. Of course, she thought. I can see how much it means to him. I can see it in his house and behind his eyes and I can feel it. Justice, victory, wisdom. Three women; trios are always a pantheon of power. Like the Fates. Like Hecate in her shades. Like the Moon; waxing, full, waning. She thought back on her own studies of Greek mythology; she’d poured over the book by the D’Aulaires’ in the library for months the year she was 13; she’d read Bullfinch’s Mythology in high school and The Odyssey in college. She thought (drifting) of Hades stealing Persephone from the earth, bringing her down to the dark Underworld; in many versions of the tale, they called it The Rape of Persephone, an act against her will. But Kenzie had often imagined that secretly, hidden in the annals of time, lost somewhere, Persephone loved Hades; loved his dark sadness and his eyes like blue fire, loved his crown of curls, his dark cloak, his hands, his gentleness. As a girl she often imagined Persephone didn’t return to the Underworld because she had eaten Pomegranates; but that she returned because she loved him, loved him and could not choose between her mother and the bright flowers of the living, and her husband and the dark flowers of the dead. She thought of Duncan; his serious gaze, his eyes piercing through her like thunder; his lips pressed to her like the fervent whisper of a prayer; my own Hades, lost in his Underworld, only this one hovers above the masses in its own special limbo. And in that moment she did feel torn; torn between him and the world she felt she was leaving behind, whether she meant to or not. She went over to the little polished mahogany bar cart beside the wine case that stretched along the corner, admiring the Tiffany lamp on the shelf beside it, Duncan’s spotless turntable; she took one of the crystal tumblers and her eyes traveled over the bottles there, eventually choosing the spherical shape of Angel’s Envy bourbon, pouring a finger into the tumbler, bringing it to her lips, and sipping, slow, savoring the taste, moving it under her tongue. It coursed through her, down her throat; it filled her tired mind with heat, soothing her, and suddenly, she ached for the night to come and her lover to return to her. Today was a long day, she thought. And I long for him. She went to the turntable; a Beethoven record was sitting on it, the needle hovering just above. She pressed a button on the side of it, and the needle dropped; Moonlight Sonata, she thought. I love this one. I love that he was listening to this.

She gazed for a moment longer at Bacchus, bathing in the silence, relishing the sound of the music; the curtains in this room were light-tight, the better to preserve the priceless painting, she assumed; then she heard the front door of the penthouse open, and she went out of the study, the tumbler still cradled in her hand, to see Samuel stepping into the kitchen with her many parcels; he set the Dean and DeLuca bags on the kitchen counter, then moved through the living room to set her other bags on Duncan’s low leather couch; he nodded to her, smiling, then turned to leave.

“Samuel.”

He turned back, his brown eyes dancing.

“Yes, Miss Mackenzie.”

“Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. For everything.”

“Miss Mackenzie...it is my honor. Be well and be happy. I will see you again soon.”

He smiled a little; his eyes seemed to fall into him, deeper, stranger, like a universe unfolding and widening; Moonlight Sonata resounded in her ears, extending the moment. Than he nodded a little to her, turned, and walked to the door, closing it softly behind him.

Kenzie sipped from the tumbler again; lost in thought, in the fading light. Then, she went into the kitchen, flipping the switch on the wall so the diamond-drop chandelier burst into luminescence; she set the tumbler on the counter, and got to work on the grocery bags beside her; she reached up into Duncan’s cupboards, struck with excitement at his beautiful kitchenwares; only a man who cooks for himself has all of this, she thought. She hummed as she worked; and slowly, the light of day faded, and the light of the city came up, in the evening mood.

#millory #millory au #duncan shepherd #cody fern #billie lourd #duncan shepherd au #collie au #collie #cody x billie #house of cards au #body and soul #my fic #michael x mallory #duncan x mallory #duckenzie #duncan x mackenzie #duncan shepherd x mackenzie stone #ahs apocalypse #house of cards

[lonelypond]

2025: Breakout

Love Live, NicoMaki, 5.3K, 1/?

Summary: Super Idol and Closely Held Government Secret Yazawa Nico's been back from her tour, but she and Tokyo's top robotics expert, Nishikino Maki, have been at odds, unable to just pick up their relationship. And even if they can, how can they make a future work in a Tokyo that wants to limit their choices. Sequel to 2024.

A/N: Giving myself a Lunar New Year present a day early and posting this as a challenge. I rough drafted this chunk a year ago maybe and I kept tossing between potential story arcs and stalled. However, this is one of my favorite AU's so I'm giving myself a nudge. Any chapters to follow may or may not follow a linear timeline. Apparently I’ve missed juggling multiple AUs. Enjoy!

Also, thanks again to the Love Live Wikia for song translations. And may the Year Of The Pig bring you health, prosperity, and happiness. Thanks for all your support.

Chapter One

"Ebbing and rising,

The waves of my heart wash me away The strength to desire something this much Is the passionate Reason in my chest

That's strange; I'm feeling fervent! Once you've taken the first step, you've gotta run Has everyone gone through this? Everything starts to pick up; Ah, I can't stop

I think I want to give those things a try; I'll walk forwards while counting them"

And that’s Love Arrow with "Yuuki No Reason". Winter is winding down with a bit too much gray for our liking, but the next Tunnel Rave theme is Neon Night. Password is “first step.” Text it to the number you know for the location. And we’ll also be hosting a virtual dance floor for those of you who can’t make it out. Diamond Princess has banned Nico Ni songs but send us your requests for anything else that hits the target for you. And Ballet Twist has some advice about which toys to avoid when you hit the virtual dance floor.

FALLING INTO HER EYES

Five times in the past month. Professor Nishikino Maki couldn’t seem to avoid events that the Number One Idol in Japan aka that demon doll, Nico Ni was scheduled to perform at. She couldn’t blame either Nico or her mother. Nico had barely returned from her tour of the North of Japan, released a new single with a new sound and a burst of popularity, pleasing her government minders. Tonight was the fifth event, an unveiling of a new Robotics lab at a small company Maki often consulted with. Maki wondered if the Air Special Defense Forces did too, but the robot she’d examined the night she’d uncovered Nico Ni’s double life was the only one of its kind she’d heard of. And Eli had put discreet questions out but received no answers. Maki was having no success growing her own organoid brain, even at a small size.

Maki had decided casual was the ticket for tonight so tailored black trousers, her N-Zan, grey button down shirt, loose white tie, black vest. She and Nico had tried meeting for a meal -- pizza -- in a dive near Muse, when Nico had first returned to Tokyo, but it had been an awkward encounter, neither of them sure what they could safely discuss in public. It had also ended awkwardly, a quick kiss and a promise to meet again when their schedules cleared.

Which didn’t suit Maki at all. No 1 Idol and the rest of the Idol Fools had been painting regularly, but Maki had noticed an increase in curfew drones and police foot patrols in areas that had been hit by them. Which worried her.

Maki entered through a few photographers and reporters, nodding in their direction, but neither answering questions or smiling, as they expected. Next would be the colleagues excited by her latest breakthroughs in electrical transfer from skin photocells. Batteries for emergency only would leave more room for processing power. She and Eli had been working on a breakthrough for two years, but after seeing what was possible with organic brains, Maki had to fake her excitement. But it had led to her contract being renewed, a budget increase and the possibility of hiring another grad student, although the department had pushed her to hire one of the younger male grad students, preferably a married one. That had been the theme of Nico Ni’s last song, a slow, pulsing number, the joys of newlyweds under the cherry blossoms, which had led to Nico performing at every wedding Maki had been invited to recently. The wealthier families being able to hire the crazy popular Idol made both marriage and wealth seem more exciting to everyone looking on through their personal devices. Maki was really quite fed up with both wealth and marriage, although she did appreciate that her money made much of what Soldier Game did possible as she had provided the seed money for Eli’s investment portfolio.

Inside, someone had draped black fabric everywhere, lights shimmering against the folds, highlighting the textures. Seemed gloomy, but maybe that was just Maki’s mood. At least there would be dark corners and Maki could hide there. She grabbed a bottled seltzer water and slunk into the corner she’d decided on. Wait for the music to start, give it a few minutes, then find the founder, shake his hand and express her reluctant need to get back to her lab. It was a great plan. Maki had spent at least an hour going through the steps in her mind, including the slight nod when the demonic black eyes of Nico Ni glanced in her direction. As if she didn’t know her, as if she thought the eyes were actually black, as if she hadn’t been dreaming every night about…

Nope. That was a trap. Take a sip of water. Focus. Ignore everything below eye level. Until they simper.

“So the brilliant Professor can’t stop stalking the great Nico Ni?” Nico’s voice sounded even peakier than usual.

Maki took a long moment and looked down her nose at the singer, taken aback by a Nico shaped hole under a lace cage of deep blue lights. It was disconcerting, she heard Nico’s voice, but as her eyes struggled to find definition in Nico’s face, she could only sweep the contours and as her line of sight followed the line of Nico’s body down, and she was pretty sure some of the curves were padded, but there was nothing but depth. Maki shivered, a hand instinctively reaching out but as she connected with the light cage, Nico Ni hopped back, “No touching, Professor. You’ll break the illusion.”

“Sorry,” Maki grunted, pushing her hand into the wall behind her to contact something solid, her eyes still futilely attempting to make sense of Nico’s lips and nose, lost in the darkest black she’d ever seen.

There was silence, a hole between them as black and deep as whatever was obscuring every detail of Nico’s appearance. Nico fell back into character, leaning forward toward Maki, what might be an arm sweeping her finger to her lips, her voice a coquettish giggle, “Don’t tell anyone, but Nico Ni is debuting a new song later. About pretty girls.” Maki was glad she couldn’t see the wink. That was her cue to accuse Nico Ni of being simplistic or untalented or invasive. Her cue for disdain and disinterest. They’d done this same exchange too often recently and Maki didn’t have the drive for another round.

“I’m sure I’ll enjoy the performance.” Maki shrugged and went in search of the founder.

Nico frowned, startled out of character for a breath as she watched the redhead get further and farther away. “No fight left?” Nico muttered, uncertain. Then with a smile obscured by designed darkness, she swept back into the crowd, every awed comment, every intake of breath, every ‘Nico Ni’ shouted greeting fueling her for the upcoming performance. No time for worry.

Maki had left halfway through Nico Ni’s performance and headed to the dojo. She and Umi were trying to build an light array based on specs Hanayo had given them. Umi was also working a program to mimic the abilities and reactions of the organoid brain. Maki calculated that if they could find the right pattern, seizures could be triggered in the A-RIse bots, similar to how patterns effected epileptics. It would be a strategy to use against them, if necessary. Eli was working on sourcing parts for a Taser sized EMP device that could trigger a robot shutdown. Nico would probably refuse if Maki asked to borrow one to test it on. But that didn’t mean Maki wasn’t going to work from the data they’d gotten. Maki guessed Nico and the rest of the Idol Fools would let their paint cans idle tonight. It would probably take Nico far too long to get the body paint off to make any other activity practical.

Maki pulled up the main screen and did an automatic check for Soldier Game mentions and #sgame on TWIG. The social media chatter had been dropping; the government had had a bunch of bots pushing Nico Ni’s latest single and spreading the rumor that Soldier Game were government agents. Attendance at the last rave had dropped and Nozomi had passed a rumor on to Eli that there might be a raid at the next one.

Maki sighed and hearted the latest IdolFools image. They needed to talk about a way to pushback. Eli had started taking advice from Nozomi, but she thought they needed to be public figures, something not even Eli agreed with. And Umi was preparing for a trip to see Alisa. Maki was the only person lacking advice from someone significant in her life.

Her phone buzzed? She looked down. The encrypted weather app. A change in the Kyoto forecast. That meant Nico.

N: Where are you?

M: Working.

N: Nico is at your place. And you only have pizza. （●≧艸≦

M: Why are you at my place?

N: TO SEE YOU (ღ꒡ ᵌ꒡)⋆﹡♡⃛*⁎⋆(꒡ᵋ ꒡ღ)

M: I’ll be there in 10 minutes. Stay put.

N: ┗(^o^　)┓三

Maki pulled her hat down and tossed on a dark hoodie. Back into the tunnels. To see Nico. Her stomach fluttered a little as her pulse picked up. She hoped Nico had gotten out of that nightmare makeup. She had enough bad memories of the Idol’s ‘demon doll’ side.

Maki was surprised to find Nico calmly on her couch, wearing baggy cargo pants and an over sized sweatshirt. Her face had been scrubbed clean, but there were disconcerting slashes of dark on her neck that Maki kept staring at.

“You need to upgrade your makeup removal stash. Nico will give you a list.” Nico put down the book...one of Maki’s recent organic robotics purchases and leaned back, “Hey, genius.”

“I have a name.” Maki snapped.

“Professor Nishikino.”

Maki sighed and fell into the couch, “I missed you too, Lt. Colonel.”

Nico’s head was suddenly in Maki’s lap, Nico’s eyes literally holes in her head. Maki didn’t scream, that was a plus, although she did nearly bite through her lip.“Please, Nico-chan, take out your contacts.” Maki tried not to shiver, but Nico caught the movement away from her and bounced up immediately.

“Do you have anything that isn’t pizza?” Nico complained as she hurried into the half bath. Maki took a container out of her kangaroo pocket, “I picked you up some kind of rice dish from a street vendor.”

Nico leapt over the couch, kissed Maki and grabbed the box, “You are so worth it.”

“Worth what?” Maki kept staring at the paint slashes, which moved as Nico swallowed. Eerie.

“Sneaking out after curfew, fraternizing with enemies of the state, risking my career,” Nico turned, mid chew and winked, “And my heart.”

“You have one?” Maki doubled down on snarky and wished she hadn’t. This was a real chance to talk to, to be with Nico and here she was, back to blowing it. Nico raised an eyebrow and Maki saw another slash of dark under it. This looked like Nico had a tiny hole in her head. Tonight was a winner in the least favorite Nico Ni costume derby. “I’ll wait while you get out your stethoscope, Doc.” Nico waved her chopsticks toward Maki’s lab.

“I’m sorry.” Maki slid a little closer to Nico, “How’s the recovery from the A-Tak?”

“Nico hasn’t fallen in” Nico counted off something with the chopsticks, “Three weeks.”

Maki nodded, a little closer, her arm on the couch behind Nico. She watched as Nico picked up every last bit of rice and then neatly placed box and utensils on the table. Then Nico turned, “You look even better than I remember.”

So did Nico. Lips thankfully free of black paint, crimson eyes a mysterious, welcoming warmth. Maki could feel Nico so vividly, where her arm rested near the Idol’s back. Maki was 1000% sure there were important topics to discuss and lines to draw, but Nico wasn’t moving away and Maki just wanted to charge forward into a kiss. Touching Nico’s lips was a jolt, the first time Maki had been overwhelmed by the sensations that exploded, but this time woven into an even greater crash of sensations was the memories, the touches, the thrusts, the skin against skin contact that made every flinch, every twitch a wave. And Nico was moaning yes, and Maki barely heard a zipper through the cacophony in her ears and Nico was encouraging Maki to lift off her sweatshirt, then Maki’s lips were sliding down Nico’s tensing abdomen, her hands stroking up the dancer’s muscles that had always fascinated her, Nico crying Maki’s name and Maki suddenly desperately hungry for a new taste.

###

Couch again, Maki thought as she pulled Nico closer, before the blanket slipped off both of them. Not that Maki would have minded the view, but...not letting go of Nico while creating a warm space for snuggling seemed to be a higher priority to her instinctive reactions. Nico yawned and pecked a kiss on Maki’s cheek.

“Hey,” Nico wondered sleepily, “Where were you? The university’s further away than 10 minutes.”

“Top secret.” Maki murmured into Nico’s hair, “No one knows.”

Nico flipped so she was lying on top of Maki, her eyes full of the impish glee that had charmed Maki through the computer screen, “I can find it.”

“Ha!” Maki shook her head. Nico pressed her lips together, dragged an extremely distracting hand along Maki’s ribs and dropped her head to whisper, “Bet I can” into Maki’s ear, triggering shivers.

“No.” Maki managed to get out.

“No?” Nico pulled back, quirking an eyebrow.

“Won’t find it….” Maki was finding hard to get words out as Nico’s hands ranged lower, taking their time over her curves.

Maki kicked the blanket off and Nico laughed, “Getting hot?”Nico hovered over Maki’s lips, barely brushing kisses against them. WIth a moan, Maki wrapped her arms around Nico, forcing the Idol even closer.

“I think that’s a yes,” Nico whispered as her hand skimmed over Maki’s breasts and Maki gasped, nodding, her legs hooking around Nico’s as momentum took more than the blanket to the floor.

###

Nico and Maki were sitting, backs against the couch, pizza shared between them, blanket wrapped around them, speakers playing jazz.

“How’s the Soldier Game business?” Nico popped the tab on a cold coffee.

Maki frowned, finishing her slice of pizza, “Not as much traffic; government spreading rumors that we’re government agents. We’re trying to figure out a strategy to ‘retake a defensible position, ‘to quote Umi.”

“Give the people what they want.” Nico stated simply.

Maki turned, ignoring the blanket that fell off her shoulder, enjoying Nico’s inability not to stare, “And what do the people want?”

Nico’s finger traced a gentle line across Maki’s nearest shoulder, tapping lightly up her neck, “The people want sexy.”

“Sexy? But we’re anonymous…” Maki looked confused.

“So? You don’t need pictures. Music can be sexy. Haven’t you heard Nico’s latest?” Nico stared at Maki for a long moment and when no response was given, she shrugged and continued, “Nico will forgive you. It’s capital S, triple XXX, kiss the girl hard, SeXXXy. Kind winds don’t really blow the clothes off girls.”

Maki had recovered and her eyebrow went to war, raising archly to eloquently express doubt, “I don’t see yours.”

Nico roared with laughter, then kissed Maki hard enough to scramble Maki’s next thought, which was fine with Nico, “See, sexxxy. Spice up your music. Give the cute girls what they want.”

Maki growled, as she moved into Nico, “And what do you want?”

“There’s the sexy,” Nico bopped Maki on the nose, causing the redhead to sit up,”Growl like a...panther, prowl...visualize.” Nico gestured at herself, then slid the blanket off her shoulder, “You don’t get to see this much of the Number One Idol in the universe without some game.”

Nico was giggling. Maki sighed and leaned back.

“What’s wrong?”

“You have no sense of mood.”

“Nico Ni knows mood.”

“Nico Ni knows nothing.”

Nico pulled Maki in, kissing her so long and with so much weight that the redhead was breathless and panting and leaning forward for more, “Nico knows Maki will remember this.”

Maki didn’t want to let Nico win, while at the same time desperately wanting Nico’s kiss. Nico took advantage of her internal argument to once again advance, her caresses expertly deployed to melt Maki into a shivering mess.

“...want...No 1….Lt….Col...Yaza...you...,” Maki managed to get out amid mostly animal noises.

Nico’s laugh was a cold contrast to the warmth her hands were driving straight through Maki’s legs, “I bet I can have you singing my latest song. I know you listened to it.”And all senses surrendered before Lt. Colonel Yazawa’s bold sweeps. No treaties were signed.

THE MORNING AFTER

Fortunately, Maki did not have an 8 am class scheduled so sleeping in after Nico left at dawn was not a problem. There was a department meeting at 3 so Maki headed in early to clear out her email and prepare. A woman, dressed in more business like attire than the usual student wear, was pacing outside her office.

“Hello?” Maki greeted her visitor.

“Doctor Nishikino?” The woman’s voice had a lovely, musical lilt but everything else about her screamed razor sharp professional edge.

“Can I help you?” Maki tapped out her passcode, puzzled.

“Did you receive Doctor Amago’s message?”

Maki shrugged, “I had family business this morning and haven’t checked anything.”

The woman shook her head and followed Maki into her office, uninvited. Maki sat behind her desk, typed in her password and waited.

“If you had read Dr. Amago’s message, you would have expected me.’

“I am sorry if my being unprepared is causing a delay in your day.” Maki bowed her head slightly, monitoring the tone of her voice closely, “Can we reschedule for another time?”

The woman shook her head, still standing. “I am Inoue Kiku, departmental assistant for media relations.”

Maki realized the woman frowning at her was her link to the media, the Ms. Inoue who passed on all the requests for interviews.

“Dr. Amago has asked me to pass on a directive that the government had given to him.” Inoue linked her hands behind her back, light eyes boring into Maki’s. “For such a high profile department, working so closely with military suppliers, the government requests that you hire an assistant who is both male and married.”

“W...what...why?” Maki half rose from her chair, hands clenching.

“While we acknowledge that Ayase-san’s work has met the requirements of the position, we feel that two women at the head of our premier robotics efforts sends the wrong message.”

Maki stood, hands shoved into her desk to channel some of the flaring rage she felt, but any comments she thought crashed into her faltering mental filter so she just stared into Inoue’s expressionless eyes, mouth slightly open.

“Ayase-san will be moved to another, less visible department.” Inoue stated.

Maki shook herself, “I am not firing my assistant and replacing her with a random male. Does the university demand any level of talent or skill or experience of this imaginary male?

Inoue didn’t back down, even as Maki’s voice gathered force, “The government representative I spoke to was not concerned about that. We would pre…:

Maki inhaled and drew herself up, briskly cutting off Inoue, “I don’t care. I am not replacing Ayase-san. Her work is excellent. Please inform Dr. Amago of my decision. Should another research assistant slot open up, I will certainly consider his advice, but my main concern is the quality of the work being done. That will not change.”

“Your status does not make your position more secure, Dr. Nishikino.”

“Thank you for sharing your belief, Inoue-san. Please leave my office. I need to catch up on my correspondence.”

Inoue shut the door behind her and Maki fell back into her chair, all the post night with Nico jaunty replaced with worry for Eli and frustration with a government that had decided, once again, to put women in secondary positions. Eli’s partial Russian heritage heightened the probability that the department would not stop pushing until they’d found a way to replace her with a ‘definitive picture of traditional Japan.” Maki needed to install a speed bag here as well, especially if the government was planning to use her to further its agenda. How did Nico manage? Maki closed her laptop. Quick walk was a better use of her pre meeting time. She didn’t really want to think about the choices Nico made daily and the message Nico was promoting. Maki had been able to float a little above the fray, buffered by circumstances and money, but now she could feel the ground shift, about to tilt her into the messy middle of the fight.

###

Nico entered the offices. Sergeant Takeda saluted, “He wants to see you.”

Nico nodded, stepping quickly into Komura’s office.

“Yazawa.” Komura was sorting through papers.“Sir?”

“Phase Three is approaching and we are being ordered to develop new public outreach strategies. There’s a meeting in two hours with the rest of the team. Your “find a new songwriter” suggestion was a big success and a commendation has been posted in your file, but I want at least three more usable ideas from you.” Komura met Nico’s eyes, grim, “There are elements pushing back and we need to counter their efforts.”

Soldier Game, Nico thought to herself, and Maki had insisted that their numbers were lacking, but Nico couldn’t think of anyone else out there pushing counter propaganda. Well, the Idol Fools, but...

“Is there anything in particular going on, sir?” Nico was surprised that she asked, and recovered, “so I know where are our efforts are weak?”

Komura stood, clapping Nico on the shoulder, “You’re a loyal airman, Yazawa. I respect that.” He sighed, “Mostly foreign influences, celebrity postings on TWIG, a podcast and a few Japanese artists, some of whom are anonymous. We’ll be discrediting the public figures, but we need some high voltage celebrity presence ourselves.”

Nico nodded, good soldier Nico time. A strategy to boost Nico Ni’s image had flashed in her mind immediately, but she wasn’t going to enjoy it and she was willing to bet a certain temperamental roboticist would hate it.

“I’m on it, sir.”

“Good. Two hours, Yazawa, use them well.”

Nico saluted, thoughts pinballing between opposite worlds and incompatible needs.

INTERLUDE

Eli was always surprised at how quickly Muse had become a second home and how comfortable she had gotten with Nozomi. It was still disconcerting when Nozomi would fix Eli with an intense stare and insist Eli pull a card from her Tarot deck. The last had been a Two of Rods, with Nozomi insisting that Eli was preparing for a journey, to which Eli’s reply had been that she’d pulled Umi’s fortune by accident. And had then sat through a lecture on how the cards did not tell fortunes, they provided guidance. Considering how Nozomi’s turquoise eyes had twinkled and Eli’s reward after, Eli was willing to learn more about Tarot any time Nozomi was willing. Eli was willing to learn more about anything any time Nozomi was willing.

They were upstairs, in Nozomi’s room, jammed between the Idol Fools workspace and Kotori’s fabric and clothing storage. Eli was lounging on the bed in a open shirt while Nozomi puttered in the kitchen, making tea, in a sarong and bra.

“Is there always this chemical smell?” Eli wondered.

“Sorry. I’ll open a window. They must be trying a new paint formula. They mask the profile with smells the drones won’t track, mostly spices.”

“So that’s why I get a curry craving whenever Honoka and Rin hug me.” Eli yawned and laid back.

Nozomi giggled, “What kind of tea do you want?”

“You.” Eli propped herself up on an elbow, her best come-hither grin aimed right at Nozomi.

Nozomi shook her head, “Chamomile it is.” After pouring water into the kettle, she sat on the side of the bed, taking one of Eli’s hands in hers, “I need to talk to you, Eli-chi.”

Eli immediately pulled Nozomi in for a hug, worry replacing any other thoughts, “What’s wrong?”

“Honoka and Rin found three more teens who were kicked out by their families.” Nozomi said, softly, her head pressed into Eli’s shoulders as the blonde tightened her hold, “We’ve almost got a safe place set up for them, but we need a little more help…”

“What do you need?” Eli’s organizational skills readied to receive a list

“Money, food, clothes….They had the clothes on their back and two kept their phones.”

Eli kissed the top of Nozomi’s head, blue eyes earnest, “I don’t have much, but I’ll talk to Maki.”

Nozomi shook her head, “No, Eli-chi, what they need is Soldier Game. We need to reach out to as many people as we can. We’re going to need more safe spaces and to tell people how to find them.”

Of course, Soldier Game. Eli blushed a little, embarrassed at her misunderstanding of Nozomi’s intent. Nozomi tilted her head, watching as Eli looked shyly away and took the blonde’s hand again, “You are a wonder, Eli-chi. You care and do so much. It’s what I love most about you.”

Eli raised her head, amazed as she heard Nozomi’s words repeat in her head. And then before she could stutter out a response, Nozomi’s lips reinforced the message they’d just breathed out.

###

"Flow like the waves until dawn breaks My feelings swirl more violently than usual And I feel as though I could fall apart completely

Should I sleep? The moon eventually grows light A gentle dream falls upon my chest

With this clichéd sadness and clichéd pain, I barely hold back tears and watch the stars They shine brighter than usual, and seem to fall As they quietly illuminate me…"

Greetings! That was our newest song "Arifureta Kanashimi no Hate". Ballet Twist here wishing you gentle dreams. But some of us are facing rather harsh realities and so we’re here tonight with a request from the IdolFools and new friend CupQueen, who are finding safe spaces for those turned out and turned against by families, landlords and friends. Next tunnel rave, three days from now, please bring an item that would get you through a dark night. We have to help each other. Code word is star watching; you’ll get the usual text. And watch the clubs for a Minalisky appearance; Love Arrow has heard they’ve been really restless lately and looking to burn up a dance floor ENBY style ‘til they close down the club.

On a brighter note, two newer and gayer episodes of Dynamic Leadership Rescue Force have been given the RAY treatment, redubbed for your virtual pleasure. Strap into our VRLock and see what Captain Sasaki and Dr. Tora have discovered on the Shadow Planet.

And now, our resident street medic, Diamond Princess, has recorded some tips for taking care of yourself out in the wild. Listen up. We got your back, hoods and g-skis, but you have to stay safe ‘til we can get you to help.

“DATING” Maki yelled. Eli and Umi looked up from the light array they were working on. Maki was hovering over a Yazawa Nico oddly lacking confidence.

Nico muttered, head down, Maki leaned down, Nico reached a hand out to Maki’s cheek, Maki stepped back and turned on her heel.

Eli and Umi exchanged a glance, as they caught the look on Maki’s face, sullen and scared. “Come upstairs, Eli. Alisa texted me some new photos of her latest eaglet.” Umi grabbed Eli’s arm, both doing their best to ignore the other two in the bunker.

“Maki…” Maki’s eyes were tearing and Eli hesitated, not certain what would be best to say. Nico’s head was still down, hands shoved deep in her pockets, “We’ll be upstairs when you’re done.”

Maki nodded. After Eli and Umi left, Nico came up gently behind her lover and looped both arms around Maki’s waist, “It’s not really dating and I don’t like it either, Maki.”

“I hate it.” Maki spat.

Nico leaned her head into Maki, “How can you…?”

“I have a job.” Nico said quietly.

“D..did Komura think this up? Because…” Maki began, fists clenched and started to press into her thighs.

“I did.” Nico’s voice was so soft Maki couldn’t believe she’d actually heard Nico correctly. “It was my idea.”

Maki turned, Nico’s arms still around her, amethyst eyes open and lost, “Nico-chan?”

Nico swallowed and then blew out a long breath, “After I saw you last, Komura told me our superiors wanted us to develop pushback strategies against things like Soldier Game. Having Nico Ni make public appearances with high profile athletes and celebrities was my suggestion.”

“Why? Do you want to?” Maki felt as if she were going to fall and Nico seemed to sense the sag in energy because she moved them both to a chair, sitting across Maki, arms around the redhead’s neck, one hand playing idly with curls of hair.

“No. And nothing will happen. But I have a job. And I want to do it well. And I don’t want anyone looking for reasons I might be disloyal.” I don’t want them looking for you, Nico thought as she took one of Maki’s hands, brought it to her lips and kissed the palm, “I won’t lie to you, Maki. But there’s some things I can’t tell you right now. You just have to trust me.”

Maki knew Nico was trying to distract her by letting her lips slowly move from palm to wrist to forearm, but she was too detached to notice the gentle pressure. “Nico-chan.” Maki’s tone commanded Nico’s attention and the ruby eyes blinked up at her, mischief clouded by worry.

Nico let Maki’s arm drop and put both her hands on Maki’s cheeks, ensuring that their eyes stayed locked on each other, “I want you. So much. Only you. Nico never imagined feeling like this when I was 18 and they said, “Hey Nico Ni, sign up here for ten years and be an idol.” Nico frowned, “I never imagined anyone as amazing as you in my life, Maki-chan.” Nico kissed Maki, lips desperately twisting to break through the barrier Maki’s stiffness was building around her heart. ”Please trust me. It’ll be like spending time with my little brother for Nico. People will mostly care about seeing posts on TWIG. I won’t care at all.”

Maki sniffled as Nico licked away tears rolling down her face, “I hate this, Nico-chan.”

Nico kissed Maki’s cheek softly before replying, “I know. But I can’t just quit.”

Silence. Both of them staring ahead, no future to be seen, wondering if the other’s was darker. Maki could feel Nico, so close, so much brighter and warmer than any tomorrow she could see. Nico would be with other people, talking, laughing, maybe kissing, maybe…

Nico’s eyes were serious, as if she were reading Maki’s mind, “I won’t.”

Maki had no words, but her hands grabbed the back of Nico’s head and pulled the Idol in for a deep, yielding kiss, any self control Nico might have had dashed by the sudden softness inviting her in, Maki’s whispers encouraging her to prove how much Maki would haunt her thoughts, pushing Nico deeper into the swell of need surging between them, into an intensity of emotion Nico was not prepared for, but there was Maki’s voice, the movement under Nico’s hands, the fingers gliding shivers across Nico’s back. Nico pulled back, staring into trust and warmth and confusion, taking a breath to regain control.

“N...Nico-chan?” And that breath became a hiss as Maki touched a hesitant finger to Nico’s underlip.

Another surge, another kiss, another second became an eternity for Nico, “I love you, Maki-chan.” And then Nico ensured that neither of them said anything else, so she didn’t have to think about what “I love you” meant or hear a response that would lead to a court martial. A moan, a cry, a plea, she knew how to handle those.

#nicomaki #IdolPunk #2025 #cyber #cyberdystopia #Yazawa Nico #Nishikino Maki #Ayase Eli #Tojo Nozomi #Sonoda Umi #2024 #2024 sequel

[esseastri]

Megan Reads Oathbringer (part 11)

All right, now that it’s been 4 months and I’ve read all the other things, I realized that it’s, like, 5 days until this book has been out for a year and I should probably get the fuck on with it, so. Here we are.

Part 11 encompasses pages 828-934 (previous parts)

me in July: I’m almost done! I can finish this!

me, now: sweet christ I have a smaller novel’s-worth still to get through lord let me live

Aw, damn, I left off on Interludes, but I DON’T CARE ABOUT VENLI, WHERE MY BOYS AT

oh SNAP I WANT THAT, the ability to speak and understand all languages???? GRABBY HANDS

ah yes the “the alethi enslaved us so we should rise up and kill them by enslaving ourselves to this other, more horrible godlike being” narrative. my favorite.

sigh

why we gotta EXTERMINATE people?

I’m tired. of extermination plotlines.

Maybe. Venli and her lil light spren will stop? the extermination!? I’m here for that!

“There was an art to doing laundry” HONESTLY THO, HAVE YOU MET COLLEGE-AGE BOYS WHO NEVER LEARNED HOW MUCH SOAP TO USE? AMEN.

oh.

I forgot about Mraize. 

like, literally, 100% forgot about his existence. sorry alyx.

eyy, we found Shalash!

HE WAS LOOKING FOR HER?? IT WAS A TRAP??

admiralakbar.gif

...Mraize has a babsk? I didn’t think he was Thaylen????

“A resistance is not what we caught you mounting.” UGH. PICK THE HAMMER, YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT.

Why do I feel like this is a “HE HAS CHOSEN THE BEAR. BRING FORTH THE BEAR” joke?

yeessssssss, VENLI!!! TAKIN RESPONSIBILITY!!!!!!!! I CARE NOW. I WANT HER TO BE BETTER, I WANT HER TO WORK THROUGH. GIIIRRLL!!!!

HOW LONG WILL YOU VACILLATE?

YESSSSS

gr oss? Tha nk s? for the melting flesh images??

yelch

PART FOOUUUUUURRR

that’s. so many POVs. What is this, a GRRM book?

also none of the POVs are Bridge Four and. WHEN WILL MY BOYS COME BACK FROM THE WAR.

wait, I could have sworn the Alethi had been fighting the Parshendi for ten years?? but Dalinar is talking to Gavilar EIGHT years ago?

Did I miss smthn?

Did I conflate the Shattered Plains with the Trojan War? I’m confused.

Lisa has done Math for me and found out that it was only 6 years????????? Why did I think it was ten??? I COULD HAVE SWORN IT WAS TEN????

“his job was to loom” heheheh

so... Dalinar is the nuclear deterrent and the nuclear threat all in one?

Dalinar, leaning into the mic: “The truth is... I am Iron Man.”

#Evideservedbetter2kForever

OH NO A BABY

TINY FIFTEEN YEAR OLD ADOLIN IS MAKING MY HEART SING

“I had this specially tailored” I LOVE HIM

OHHHHH

HE’S TRYING SO HARD TO IMPRESS HIS DAD I’M CRYING

“When censured, Adolin only tried harder.” I! LOVE! THIS! TINY! SUNLIGHT! BOY!

I wanna write fic where Adolin Kholin meets Luke Skywalker and the world literally EXPLODES IN SUNLIGHT AND SOFTNESS.

“Who could deny him?” CERTAINLY NOT ME, I WOULD DIE FOR ADOLIN KHOLIN TOO GOOD TOO SOFT FOR THIS WORLD

me, squinting: “which Herald is Ahu?”

my running method is to just suspect everyone of being a Herald. At some point, I’ll have to be right.

WHICH! HERALD! IS! AHU!

HE’S TALKING ABOUT THE UNMADE LIKE HE KNOWS THEM PERSONALLY, TALKING ABOUT HOW THEY LET THEM IN. WHICH!!! HERALD!!! IS!!! AHU!!!!

LISTEN, I JUST WANT TO KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT THE HERALDS. GIMME A BOOK ABOUT THE HERALDS, BRANDON!

GIMME THAT JUICY GOOD BACKSTORY, BRANDON!!!

me: why is there a map with the sea but Kholinar is on it???

two seconds later: OOOHHH DUH IT’S SHADESMAR

wack y fun!

ARE DREHY AND SKAR OKAY???? THEY DIDN’T COME WITH???

ARE THEY OKAY?

OH NO OH NOO I’M GONNA WORRY AOBUT THEM FOREVER

Adolin, say hi to your swwooooorrdddd

....the Oathgate has souls?

what?

Fearspren: gross.

I knew they were all bigger on the inside, as it were, but. #yikes?

“Kaladin’s not well.” “I have to be well.”

BRB SOBBING ABOUT KALADIN

I’M!

HE’S SO STRONG

I’M! HELP!

GIANT CLAW? UNMADE!!?? LET’S KILL IT. IDK IF WE CAN BUT CAN WE TRY??

“sword lady” HEH

ok well, at least we know Drehey is alive, since Shallain bumped into his soul, which is both TERRIFYING and REALLY COOL

YOU’RE NOT NOTHING, ADOLIN, YOU ARE EVERYTHING AND I LOVE YOU.

*long keening noises*

I FELL ON THE FLOOR

“Hey,” Adolin said. “It will be all right.” “I survived Bridge Four,” Kaladin growled. “I’m strong enough to survive this.” “I’m pretty sure you could survive anything. Storms, bridgeboy, the Almighty used some of the same stuff he put into Shardblades when he made you.” Kaladin shrugged. But as they walked onto the next platform, his expression grew distant again. He stood while the rest of them moved on. Almost like he was waiting for their bridge to dissolve and dump him into the sea. “I couldn’t make them see,” Kaladin whispered. “I couldn’t...couldn’t protect them. I’m supposed to protect people, aren’t I?”

GUESS WHICH PART BROKE MEGAN

GUESS WHICH PART DUMPED MY HEART ON THE FLOOR

ANYWAY, I’M CRYING

THISISFINE.PNG

“I’m frightened. I talk when I’m frightened.” I LOVE HIM.

ADOLIN’S HELOIGN HIM HE’S MAKIN HIM TALK TO DISTSRAT HIM AND MAKE HIM JEEP WALKING AND I”M

I LOV A SUNSHINE BOY

SO MUCH

...is Vivenna okay?

oh shiiit, Adolin is? king????

sort of? almost??

oh man, he’s gonna be SO GOOD AT IT!!!! LOOK AT HIM TAKING CHARGE AND TAKING CARE OF EVERYONE. HE’S SUCH A GOOD LEADER, HE’S GOING TO BE SOOOOOO GOOOOOOODDD AT THIS!!!!

that chapter was a Lot

OH NO A SZETH CHAPTER

I’ve only been asking for this for tHE WHOLE BOOK

but now I’m gonna be MORE SAD

.......idk how I feel about the soul-after-image thing. it’s interesting, but I’m still a lil weirded out by Szeth...you know...being alive?

huh. Vasher knows about the magic fish? So....does this validate Lisa’s theory about the fish and the birds from that other cosmere thing I can’t remember bc I haven’t read it?

holy shit, that’s a LOT of skybreakers.....

...who have been around the WHOLE TIME???? WTF

So...Szeth can hear the Spiritual Realm.....and is going to bond a spren, of the Cognitive Realm...and is in the Physical Realm... so does that make him the Avatar, Master of All Three Realms?

(while he may have a lot to learn, I believe that Szeth can save the world)

hm. they’re so...regimented. militaristic. ritualized. They’ve got tests and rules for getting in and it’s all very well-put-together. and it’s WEIRD compared to everyone else stumbling into their Ideals. Is this what is was like before the Recreance? or is this just the Skybreakers being Skybreakers?

why are there kaladin flashbacks in the dalinar book, why, brandon, why must you hurt me in this way

Brandon: *mentions Tien* Me, softly: “no”

HE REALIZED HE COULD KILL AND THAT’S WHAT TERRIFIED HIM

THISISFINE.PNG

I’M EMOTIONAL AND KALADIN IS SAD AND I’M UPSET

Also, Syl just. grabbing his arm and snuggling him is VERY GOOD, SHE IS VERY GOOD, AND SHE SHOULD BE WORSHIPED FOR BEING SO VERY WONDERFUL

“It cannot be holy. If it truly were, it would have burned me away long ago.” I’M SAD NOW, THANKS.

I have weird emotions about people losing their faiths, and Szeth’s character arc has been particularly. compelling to me.

“Here’s what you have to do: fight him and win!” has the same energy as that obnoxious Assassin’s Creed “tip” that’s like “the trick to staying alive to is get your enemy’s health bar to zero while keeping your above zero” and I’M SO PLEASED.

ooohh shit

he drew Nightblood

which I feel is NOT RECOMMENDED

# Y I K E S

Skybreakers take the “lawful” part of DnD alignments to a very unhealthy extreme

tbh they’re a lil fucked up, ngl

Skybreakers make me uncomfortable, is what I’m saying.

“he had never mastered the ‘sleep anywhere’ skill the grunts bragged about” NEERRRRDD

WHEN WILL ADOLIN REALIZE HE’S A REALLY GOOD LEADER??? SOMEONE TELL HIM, I WOULD BUT I’M TOO FAR AWAY.

oh that makes sense

I was confused for a hot second about how Vivenna knew Adolin’s kata, but she probably learned it from Vasher who...also...taught Adolin. Duh.

“I’m just a woman who has been constantly out of her league since adolescence.” Viveennnnaaaaaa, darling. You’ll be all right.

also that makes total sense--the Horneater Peaks? If they’ve got a portal, it makes sense they’re so much more in tune to the spren. Easier border crossings.

PEOPLE live in this realm? What the??

I don’t know Nazh, but the fact that he has an embarrassing tattoo due to Horneater lager bad decisions DELIGHTS ME

hm. idk why I’d sort of assumed that Dalinar went to visit the Nightwatcher before Gavilar died, but. maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it was a consequence of Gavliar’s death. 

“the other one” GET FUCKED WITH A CACTUS, PAST!DALINAR 

OOHH

SOFT BOY

Renarin is such a Good

also, Dalinar HUGGING is SO GOOD KEEP DOING THAT THAT WILL HELP

“Humans, you must stop your emotions. They are very inconvenient here.” I think, Pattern dear, that Shallan rather thinks emotions are inconvenient everywhere.

mmmmmmmmmmmmm

HERE WE ARE AGAIN

ANGER IS ALWAYS THE FIRST STAGE OF DEPRESSION

HELLO, KALADINMEGAN BRAIN, IT’S BEEN A WHILE SINCE YOU WERE SO NEATLY SPELLED OUT BUT HERE WE ARE AGAIN

“You’re not angry at anyone, you’re just looking for something to latch onto. Something to feel.” To stave off the darkness of unfeeling and anger is easy. It’s irrational and warm and so easy. So it’s always the first one to go.

“It would continue until numbness seemed preferable.” GOD YUP. THERE IT IS.

It’s still really validating and really, really unsettling to see your brain problems spelled out so succinctly.

oh lord

“Men he loved, killing each other.”

I’M UPSET

(and the very tiny garbage part of my brain goes, ‘see he LOVES Moash’)

ADOLIN TAKING THE REARGUARD BECASUE SOMETIMES KALADIN NEEDS LOOKING AFTER I’M EMOTIONAL

Syl had a different Kaladin before Kaladin?? Wild.

and GOD but the symbology of the LIGHTHOUSE in Kaladin’s chapter. I’m. <3

EEEYYYY NAVANI!!!

she made them carry their own chairs, GOD THE MEANING BEHIND THAT, I LOVE HER

“Elhokar and Adolin are safe somewhere.” ABOUT THAT....

LOPEN, PLS

Bridge Four’s unwavering belief in Kaladin is SURE A THING. I love them SO MUCH.

also, god, MY BOYS, here they are, eating all the food and being ridiculous losers at a formal event I HAVE MISSED THEM SO

god, fuc you Ialai. ofc she didn’t carry her own chair, fukin JERK

good to know the assholery of the Sadeas name is being upheld, even after his death

god, every time Taravangian is mentioned, my gut just clenches, he makes me SO NERVOUS

GOD YES OH MY GOD, LIFT VS ROCK EATING CONTEST PLS GIMME MORE

I have forgotten that I love Sebarial. Petition for him to show up more often.

OH GOOD HE’S HAVING A BAD DAY. EXCELLENT. HE’S MUCH BETTER WHEN HE’S STUPID

...unless he’s super smart today and just pretending to be stupid.

fuck

IT’S SO HARD TO TELL WITH HIM ARGH

ANYONE ELSE HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THE DISCUSSION OF INVADING SHINOVAR WHEN SHINOVAR IS THE ONLY PLACE THAT DOESN’T HAVE A REPRESENTATIVE AT THIS COUNCIL???? JUST ME? OKAY.

also they keep talking about Shinovar as a redoubt and a haven, but....didn’t the Everstorm--going the wrong way--destroy Shinovar? Has anyone checked??

Navani is so clever and it’s brilliant.

“Taravangian was talking about having you tour Vedenar personally”....alone....so he can MURDER YOU. BAD IDEA. ABORT MISSION.

KALADIN HAD AN OLD LADY SLAVE FRIEND WHO DIED AND I’M SAD AGAIN DAMNIT

“He’s got battle fatigue. We have to watch him when he’s sitting around doing nothing, not when he’s got a specific mission.” MMMMMMHHHMMMMMMM

the future is forbidden, but not to Truthwatchers, sooooooo... is. this “Oracle”. a.......... Herald? PERCHANCE.

(He’s not, but I AM SUSPICION INCARNATE)

Weren’t they lying at the beginning and saying that Shallan was an Elsecaller? Because Odium thinks she’s an Elsecaller for some reason. And I wonder...who he’s spying through and where his attention is focused and who told him the lie?

KALADIN JUST WANTS TO SAVE HIS DAD IS THIS TOO MUCH TO ASK

aight, which world does canned food come from? How far ahead is the mistborn world whose name I can’t remember right now but it begins with an s SCADRIAL YEAH THAT ONE how far ahead is Scadrial in technological progression? Where does the Stormlight Archive fall on the mistborn timeline?

ADOOOLLIINNN. TALK! TO YOUR SPREN!!!

THEY DON’T KNOW??? THE BOYS DON’T KNOW? HOW THEIR MOTHER DIED?

HOW DO THEY NOT KNOW?

oh my god

that

god, that’s a huge lie to believe for so, so long. ohhh my goddd

someone has been writing down all the Unmades’ names, right? So I can look them up in the Coppermind later and be confused and try to work out which is which and what they do and how terrified I should be of them? cool thanks.

HELLO DARKNESS, MY OLD FRIEND

HE’S GONNA TELL US SECRETS!!!!! ARE THEY USEFUL!? WILL I LEARN THINGS ABOUT THE HERALDS!!!!??

I have one (1) priority in this establishment

...why does Syl have color

who is she

also LIGHTSPREN/REACHERS??? COOL AS FUCK OMG

“You don’t fly, you fall the wrong way.” Hehehehehehe <3

I HAVE MISSED KALADIN’S SELF-DEPRECATING JOKES THAT ARE FUNNY BUT ALSO VERY PAINFUL god, I love him. I love him so much. idk if y’all know this about me.

...ok, but the punny banter between Kaladin and Shallan is SO NICE Why do they have to be mean to each other so often why can’t they just be terrible sarcastic pun buddies?

“In that polished breastplate and striking figure, with her talk of chasing bounties and traveling worlds. She’s deeply mysterious.” CAREFUL, SHALLAN, YOUR BI IS SHOWING.

“The feeling was friendship, but neither of them had ever experienced it.” 

NOPE

NOOOOOOPPEE

WHO WANTS TO BET THIS SCENE IS SHIP FODDER DEAR LORD

Kaladin, darling, that shit is SO UNHEALTHY, DO NOT ENCOURAGE THIS

god

also like. darling. no. “I wish I didn’t have to care” DARLING ALL YOU DO IS CARE WHO WOULD YOU BE WITHOUT CARING

THIS IS GOOD FOR NEITHER OF YOU STOP

DO NOT ENCOURAGE THAT IN HER AND DO NOT WISH THAT FOR YOURSELF, jesus

lord, ok, well, I’ve read 100 pages, so on that disappointing character note, I’m going to go to bed.

#op #Megan reads OB #Oathbringer spoilers #is it still spoilers? man have I come out the other end on spoilers? oh well #Stormlight Archive #Oathbringer #Brandon Sanderson #mmmmmm I HAVE OPINIONS #also cry a lot #I miss Bridge Four petition for my boys to come back

[exowolf-reactions]

Promises and Secrets

genre: Jongin Lotto!AU (angsty? idk tbh, idk what this is save me xd) type: drabble/scenario characters: Jongin, reader(sister), EXO The anon that requested this scenario asked it to be based on /this/ reaction I wrote some time ago. Anyways, hope you like it. Xo Ara~ Do not copy without permission or use in any way, this is my work.

You only saw men in black, only saw well tailored suits, expensive leather shoes and a peculiar ring each one of them had. Your sight was fuzzy, you felt dizzy but you remained conscious, or at least tried to. You were never told what to do in these sort of situations but your instinct told you to stay awake, to remember every detail your confused brain could retain, to stay alive and say nothing.

For some reason you didn’t fear for your life, if they wanted you dead, they would have done it already. But you were scared for your brother, you feared something could happened to him  if he tried to rescue you which he would of course, because he had promised. And Kim Jongin wasn’t the type to break his promises.

The house was upside down, broken chairs, shattered windows, three boys trying to hold a fourth one still.  “Let me go!” He yelled, frustration could be heard in his voice. “She needs me!” “Kim jongin!” One of the boys rose his voice. “You have to calm down before going to rescue her!” “Kyungsoo if it were your sister you would be like me” Jongin said desperately.  “No! I would be a mess, inside. But thinking straight is what you need before going in; you need a plan if you don’t want her to get caught in a crossfire” Jongin knew Kyungsoo was right but it was hard to him to calm down, after all they were talking about his little sister. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. “Then what should we do?” Jongin replied. “Well” Everyone turned to the door’s direction. Someone had just arrived. No, not just someone, their boss. “We do what we do best, show them why they were so eager to keep us in a lab room”  Everyone nodded, remembering those dark days, remembering why they had become what they were now. And the promises they had made.

They didn’t need to bring a gun, not a single shot was heard. They came with the night and left with the wind. While Chanyeol and Baekhyun were busy creating a distraction outside with balls of fire and shots of light, Jongin transported inside of their enemie’s facility to get you back. No one knew where he had come from but before they could harm him they realised who was behind him. The man of ice. Probably, Minseok didn’t have to use his ability before all those men were running away from him fearing to be frozen to death. 

“Y/N?” You heard someone calling your name. For a moment you thought you heard your brother’s voice. “Y/N?” Was it really Jongin? But how? How did he get pass all those armed men. He arrived to the room they kept you in, rushed to unchain you not before he scanned the room first, to check there were no traps. “Did they hurt you?” His voice sounded different. You knew he was worried but somehow he needed to act tough.  “No... They just left me here... how did you get in here? Are YOU hurt?” Jongin smiled. “For being in this kind of situation, you seemed pretty worried about me and not yourself” “Jongin answer me” You were almost free, just one more chain.  “I am not, but this is not the time to explain. I’ll do that later” It was then when you realised it hadn’t been your brother breaking you free. But his friend, breaking the chains with his bare hands. “H-how?” “Later Y/N... later”

You didn’t want to ask what happened to the gang that had taken you. Didn’t want to know what your brother’s friends had done but you were still curious how any of you had left without a single scratch.  “Nini?”  “I know... I know I owe you a lot of explanations” “I thought this was just only a mafia kind of thing but.... how?” Your brother sighed as he sat down next to you. “Why did they take me?” “Sometimes they forget they shouldn’t mess with us?” “And why shouldn’t they?” Your brother smiled. “You know, you shouldn’t be asking all these things” “You promised Nini! You promised there would be no more secrets... I need to know” “Let’s say we are special... strong... better” “And just because of that you decided to form a mafia?” “No it’s not like that... You see... we promised we wouldn’t let the bad guys do the same they did to us, to others” “So you had to become bad?” “Sorta... they are strong... so we needed to be stronger. We have to be stronger if we want to stop this once for all” “So... the ones who took me...” “Yes, they were going to do the same to you. Or try to. But there’s no way I would let them” “Is it that bad? Being special?” “It’s not the abilities that are bad Y/N” Your brother looked sad for a moment. “But during those years that I went missing... I experienced a living hell... we all did. And there’s no way in the world that I’ll ever let you go through that same thing. You are mi family sis... and that means that I’ll protect you to the very end”

#exo #exo m #exo k #exo l #exo reaction #exo reactions #exo request #d.o #do kyungsoo #kyungsoo #sehun #chanyeol #kai #kim jongin #kim minseok #xiumin #chen #kim jongdae #baekhyun #lay #yixing #suho #kim junmyeon #tao #luhan #kris #wu yifan

[writeraraik]

Dark Congress: Dayo

The run for freedom was a dangerous one, fraught with terrible conditions and the threat of capture at every turn. So when a tall, pretty, colored man appeared in your cabin with the promise of freedom of course you jump at it, not just for you, but for your whole family. It wouldn't be long before the master of the plantation made his rounds for the night. if the way he kept looking at you while serving meals or trapped out in the field meant anything you would jump into the arms of Satan himself and be damned later for it before continuing on as you are now. 

One more hellish night of him on top of you while you try to think about anything but what he's doing to you and the other girls and boys, you can't stand the thought of it. If the way the missus looks at you, staring daggers and already cutting the small amount of rations you and the littles get, you don't want to face her hell and cruelty in the morning either.

You're doing this for you and your family, for the taste of freedom you’ve never had. Your brothers were all sold away to different plantations years ago, your mother died tens years back in a mysterious incident with the missus of the plantation, and your father died long before you even could remember his face.

The colored man is dressed handsomely, there's no rags or hand-me-downs for him, no sir. You’ve seen tailored clothes before and that's what he's wearing. He must be one of those freed men you hears so much about whenever the Masters back is turned. Not one wrinkle in his clothes, and not one line of fabric out of place, and his eyes are beautiful too. He has these deep brown eyes that seem to glow. Not the special kind like Master’s “other littles”, but an otherworldly glow to them, the kind of glow your mother used to warn you about. What had she called men like these? You can't recall for the life of you, you're in awe, it's almost too good to be true. An angel draped in orange, yellows and reds has come to your rescue.

“You an angel.” You say to him, but you want to know what he wants in return. You can't get something for nothing, your mother taught you that too.

“Far from it.” He said, he sounded different, not cultured in the way the dock workers and the Masons are. It's a thick and old accent, ancient almost but familiar and calls out to you, how strange.

“What do you want?” You asked and looked out the window of the cabin up to the main house. The lights inside were being snuffed one by one. Soon enough master would be here to do his business with you. You start to peel back the layers of your clothes when he stops you with a simple raise of his hand.

“Not that. The offer is tempting.” He said reached over pulling the sleeve of her dress back over her shoulder. “For now just a drop of blood.”

“Why?” You asked, you've done your fair share of hard work and spilled too much blood from your own hand on this plantation. What's one more drop?

“By the time we get what we need you'll be dead and gone for a long time.”

“We?” You questioned.

“My coven.”

“You a witch?”

“No, not a witch.” He said, and those damn eyes of his glow again and soothes the surplus of worries growing inside you at a dizzying rate.

“So what do I call you?” You asked.

“Dayo.”

“Well that sure is different," You say and fidget some more, "So, what about my babies. I can't leave without them.”

“We have taken into account ever measure. You and all your desired loved ones will be leaving today. All that's left is to close your eyes.”

“But he's coming!” You nearly yelled at Dayo, and it's true, you can see the Master making his way down the hill towards the slave quarters. He's coming to hurt you again, because he can, because he wants to and he's the one in control. There's no one who can stop him or defend you and you were too scared to fight back, you saw what the Master and his missus did to the girls and boys who did dare to fight back or run away his 'affections’.

“He won't hurt you again, okay?” He said, and it's those thrice damned eyes of his that suck you in, they calm you. You actually believe him, and he seems sincere. It's just a drop of blood, right? What's the harm in that? Just imagine all you'll have, the life you can give to your children and your family. The threat of torture if subdued and captured is a heavy sinking feeling, but the lightness of freedom is worth that. Escaping not just the plantation, but the back breaking labor and that the master wouldn't turn his disgusting attention on your little boys and girls.

“Okay.” You said, and it meant so much, you were going to do this. You trusted this strange man not just with your life but the lives of your children. You trusted this man to be held at his word, that the Master wouldn't hurt you ever again, and then you gave him your hand and closed your eyes. He made a small cut on the center of your palm and you feel a thin line of blood escape, feels the same way when you cut your hand while cleaning the main house or when the missus threatens you with glass, holding it so close to your throat that it breaks the skin slightly. This is different, you feel the old boards of the cabin creak and groan as he kneels before you, you open one eye just to peek, you're too curious as to what he's going to do.

“No peeking.” He said and flashed those brilliant brown eyes of his back up at you. You laugh nervously and close your eyes, and then you feel a warm tongue lapping at the thin line of blood that trickles from your palm. You've heard “grown folk” stories about men like this, so gentle but firm but you thought they were just rumors and hallucinations from older women. You've never ran into anyone so seductive and gentle.

You hear him moan as he flattens his tongue against your palm and that's when you hear the cabin door open. You don't react to the Master entering, your eyes remain closed until the screaming starts. Your eyes snap open in a heartbeat, long enough to see the kind stranger rip out the Master’s throat leaving the man a twitching, writhing bloody heap on the floor. That type of strength is not common and now you remember what your mother told you.

'They say they in Covens, or sometimes families. But these people ain't like us, nothin’ good come from fooling around with them. They from the other side, and need to stay there'

In a desperate attempt to save your family you've damned the lot of so many others. You rush over to the window, and look out to see that hell has broken loose and this man and his 'coven’ is doing away with everyone on the plantation who isn't a slave. The rest of her friend and families emerge from their cabins slowly as a wave of confusion washes over all of them. What is going on? Is this hell or has an angel answered their prayers?

Cries and pleas pour out from all around along with the screaming and then nothing. It's as silent as it always is on Sunday nights except this isn't a typical night, so has changed, you looked to the colored man and then the dead master. Dayo walked over to you with bloody hands and a thin trail of your own blood running from the corner of his lips.

“Freedom awaits.” He said with outstretched hands.

“What are you?” You asked curiously. You may have locked yourself in hell by agreeing to this but a weight is lifted off your shoulder, your children and their children won't suffer the way you have they'll have a better life, no answering to overseers, no being taken by force without a say, no Master making their a living hell due to some idea that they were born better than you are. The slightest infraction wouldn't lead to immediate death, they would live, and not just exist as tools in a world that would never see them as living and loving humans.

“More than you could ever imagine, Celia.”

“What now?” You asked, your mother's Sunday school lessons come back to you. Not.only had she aligned herself with some type of demons, it lead to the death of the master and their entire family, that probably meant the missus and her littles too. That damned question lingered in the back of her mind, “Am I going to...to hell?”

“Only if you wish to stay here.” He said and for the first time in the night he smiled, his teeth were as white as the linens in the missus bed with hints of pink where he had tasted her blood, and you can see his elongated fangs that look so different from anything you’ve ever seen before. “You...your children….your community will be safe...and free.”

“Will I see you again?” You asked, you're not entirely sure if you want to see him again. He killed the Master with such ease, he could do the same to you if he wanted to. She thought about her littles, nothing good would come of that if she kept such terrible company around them.

“Not if you don't want to.” He said to you and you stepped forward and took his hand and he led you out of the cabin, your children rushed over to you, hugging your legs with terror in their eyes. When

“Mama.” Young Georgie said, “What's going on?”

“We're free, baby. These men are going to lead us away from here.’ She said and cleared her throat before speaking up. “I may have done a bad thing but it has freed us all, these people will take us far from here and what you do when you get there is your business. But anyone getting in the way of freedom can join the master.”

“Where's he at?”  Jimmy called out.

“Burning in hell.” You tell them defiantly, you've made your bed and now you'll have to lie on it. The dead weight of a plantation on your shoulders, but with freedom so close who are you to turn it away? “Now who wants to be free?”

The run for freedom was a dangerous one, fraught with terrible conditions and the threat of capture at every turn, and a tall, pretty colored man led you there. His skin as dark as yours and so are his eyes, and unlike so many others he is true to his words. When you reach the north and are settled comfortably he came to stand before you.

It is wrong, you two are not even from the same world. You can't be. The longer you traveled with him, taking muddy backwaters and forgotten patches of lands, you realized he was not human, and if he very had been it was very long time ago. Whatever trouble you and your caravan of freedmen ran into they handled. There were moments were you caught him staring at you, studying you with an unslaked thirst. You think it's the blood, others in the coven have commented about how sweet your entire line is said to be. They wait on you, something akin to being treated like a Queen. But you're not a Queen, so why is he kneeling before you?

“Dayo, are you leaving us?”

“I can stay if you want. My Congress will stay and watch over your tribe” He said with his head bowed.

“That wouldn't be fair, not to you or your family.” You say, he's been far too kind.

“I don't care about fairness.”

“Clearly or you wouldn't have killed all those people.”

“You were enslaved, captured, humiliated. I couldn't allow those people to live.” Dayo said and she saw his jaw clench and his fangs elongate before he pulled himself back together looking calm, cool and composed.

“If this was happening all over the world, would you kill everyone who hurt people who look like me?”

“Do you want me to?” He asked sincerely.

“I don't want more people dying, and get up off the floor you'll gone and mess up your good clothes.” You said and pulled at his hands as he rose from the floor.

“You are far too kind, some would call it a personality flaw.” He said and gave her a strange look, he was a head taller but was never rough or manish with you. Whenever you woke up it felt too good to be true, how could someone evil be so kind? How could your own mother been so wrong about the covens. They didn't snatch up children, they didn't eat them or drain them of their blood, none of them had did that to any of the countless children around. Just what else had you been misled about?

“Would you?” You asked him and he fidgeted in place while running his tongue over his teeth.

“I'd rather have my tongue cut out than answer that.” He said.

“What do you want from me?” You asked him, it was something you whispered to the elder women whenever Dayo’s back was turned, you’d asked them so many times what you thought Dayo wanted from you. You never knew what he wanted, why he looked at you with such unbridled yearning?

“I want you to remember who you are.” 

“I'm me, all I've ever been.” You said and he stepped forward closing the small gap between you both. You were used to this part, you knew how to lay there and let them use you until they were finished. But he never pushed you down, only stroked the side of your face gently and leaned forward pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Forgive me.” He said.

“For what?”

“I shouldn’t have done that, not without permission.” He said and she could see him scolding himself.

“You're not...human, are you?” You asked, it was something that had weighed on your mind. There was only so much you could assume before the glaring truth returned to you.

“No, I've never been accused of such a thing.” He said and saw the strange look you gave him, "But you are and there's nothing wrong with that my...Celia."

“Y'Know, I don't think they ever saw us as real people.” You tell him as he placed his hand on your shoulders, there wasn’t a day that passed that you didn’t think about your life on the plantations. You had been born a slave, you never expected to be freed, you were unsure what to do with this freedom now that you had it. There was one thing you did know, you weren’t going to give it up without a fight. “They'd read the good book and tell us we needed to be saved, that they saved us. But they didn't treat us that way.”

“No, they never will.”

“How you know that?” You asked.

“I can see it, in the future, in your future. I’ve tasted it.” He said and nibbled on his bottom lip,  elongated fangs poked out from under his top lip reminding her how incredibly different they were. “They will try but not hard enough."

“Are we alike in any way?” You ask him, you know what he wants from you, the look in his eyes can't be mistaken this time. You suppose he’s human enough to desire that from you.

“We are the same, but you are different, you're better.” He said and cupped your chin, tilting your head back. Did he know how much power he held? How a single look from him sent a chill down your spine? You wanted to run away from him and straight to him at the same time. Your mother couldn't have been entirely wrong. No one person should have held this power, but he wasn't a person, now was he? 

Thoughts of your last night on the plantation came back, the master lying on the floor writhing and gasping for breath while Dayo looked on as if this were normal for him. He was not normal, not like you, but he was kind, not truly a monster in a way only the master and his missus could be and despite what you saw you don’t fear him. You feel at ease and protected when you’re with him, how strange is that. Dayo spoke again as he stared down in your eyes, everything about him held your attention, again his eyes sparkled and shine and you’d believe rainbows shot straight out of his mouth if he told you, how strange. “You are full, so full, and I don't want to ruin that. A war is coming and we need a Queen, our Queen."

“Good thing I'll be dead and gone by then, right?” You say and try to laugh. Death has been apart of your life since you were little. You have no immature designs about life. You work as hard as you can, love as much as you can and hope that in return you get something back and then you die. You were able to give your kids something, give your entire community a new beginning and the taste of freedom for however long. That was more than worth it, you had your lot in life to carry, you were unsure of when that wright would be too much but you continued on.

“No, I will miss you more than I have missed anything.” He said and paused for a second before speaking again. How could he know he’d miss her? He barely knew you, but maybe he had felt something different when he tasted your blood. Lord knew something more than courting was going on between both of you, the entire community could sense it.  “There is a way you could stay forever.”

“I don't want to live forever, everybody's gotta get old and die. That's just how things are.” You said, when you were old and gray you wanted to go home to the mother you missed and the father you never met. You hoped that whatever God that was up there keeping count of everything you were doing could see it in you to forgive you for what you had done. You knew you still had a lot to pay for. 

“I know.” He said and leaned forward and kissed you, this time he poured more into it. Kissing was something you had done as a young girl with pretty boys in the fields when your Aunties were just out of sight. It was odd to be doing it now but you enjoyed it, liked the way he held you and spoke to you in a language you felt but couldn't understand. He continued to speak softly between gentle pecks until something in you lit up like a barrel of gunpowder. You pressed your body against his own, it was as if a door had opened inside you.

“What is this?” You said in that special language that you two shared, the words unlocked inside you as if they have been there the entire timing waiting for you to discover them. Dayo is the key and you're the lock, just what else might he open up inside you? Maybe there was a reason your  mother directed you to stay away from covens, tried to persuade you to believe things, somewhere deep down you were one of them, you weren't entirely human, you couldn't be, how strange. You reached up stroking the side of his face gently, he turned and kissed your fingertips gently, raking his elongated fangs over the tips of your fingers, close enough to nip but soft enough to not break the skin.

“The Call. The Power.” He said and you pulled him back with you towards the bed, it felt like lava was beating in your veins but there was no pain. It was like shedding an outer skin, somewhat painful but all the more invigorating and helpful in the end. That night a life is brought into the world, fates are sealed and an old council is revealed. You lived, you raised your young daughter as the Coven moved on and took Dayo with them. You never knew what would happen, what you truly were or who this Queen was, you didn’t know there would be hell on earth because of this.

#Writing #Writeblr #wip #Dark Congress #tw: rape #tw: rape mention #It's not graphically described but it is talked about #Dayo #Royal Guard #It's surprising how the amount of accidental world building that took place in this #Excuse the fact im jumping from tense to tense #It's just the beginning of a long wip based in urban fantasy genre

[aion-rsa]

The Rod Serling Christmas Movie You Never Saw

https://ift.tt/2LtOQF3

A Christmas Carol is the definitive Christmas story. Yes, you might try and argue it’s the nativity, but the volume of movie adaptations begs to differ, and I can tell your heart’s not in it. And yes, I see those of you rushing to the comments to tell us it’s Die Hard and I think you’re very big and clever.

But A Christmas Carol has everything, all the trappings of Christmas, that sliver of darkness running through the whole thing, and above all a strong seasonal message to remind us what Christmas is about.

The story has been reimagined and retold endless times since Charles Dickens’ book came out, from textually accurate recreations such as A Muppet Christmas Carol (seriously) to modern-day reimagining like the Bill Murray vehicle, Scrooged.

And across all of these different retellings, the seasonal message is usually the first casualty. Scrooge’s lesson is often softened into “charity is good” or “don’t be mean to people”, or, at its worst, Scrooge’s sin is made out to be that he doesn’t like Christmas.

But A Christmas Carol itself is unflinching in its look at poverty, and poverty as a direct result of the actions of the powerful, and Scrooge’s argument for “decreasing the surplus population” still wouldn’t look out of place in several mainstream journalism outlets today. Very few adaptations of the book, even the faithful ones, capture the anger that runs through the original story. It’s not a general anger at the idea of “meanness”. It’s a very specific anger targeting political ideas and rhetoric that people held then and now.

Over a hundred years later, Rod Serling was another writer who wasn’t afraid of using his writing to express political anger. Anyone who’s seen even a handful of episodes of The Twilight Zone will know Serling used his platform to target McCarthyism, war, bigotry, and conformity.

The opening narration of one of the most famous episodes, ‘To Serve Man’, reads:

“The world went on much as it had been going on, with the tentative tip-toeing alongside a precipice of crisis. There was Berlin to worry about, and Indo-China and Algeria and all the other myriad of problems, major and minor, that somehow had lost their edge of horror because we were so familiar with them.”

That atmosphere of dull, routine, existential terror will sound familiar to anyone who has just lived through the post-2016 Hell Years.

But while Serling was determined that The Twilight Zone would tell stories about the issues he cared about, he also had to fight tooth and nail against networks and advertisers that wanted nothing less than to be associated with anything “political”. So Serling’s political messages were frequently veiled in magic, “Men from Mars” and hypothetical futures.

So it’s surprising that, in all 156 original Twilight Zone episodes, most of them written by Rod Serling himself, that the show never tried its own twist on the classic Christmas story that was in many ways tailor-made for the Twilight Zone treatment.

Except Rod Serling did write his own take on A Christmas Carol, as a TV movie featuring Peter Sellers, and it’s been almost completely forgotten.

A Carol for Another Christmas

A Carol for Another Christmas was a TV movie, aired on the American Broadcasting Company on the December 28 1964. It was the first in a planned series of movies promoting the United Nations. The final one of these films, about a UN narcotics agent, is believed to be the last story written by Ian Fleming before his death.

Read more

Movies

A Christmas Carol: The Best and Worst Adaptations

By Robert Keeling

That A Carol for Another Christmas was part of this series is probably why Serling was free to be far more openly and explicitly political than we’ve seen in even the angriest episodes of The Twilight Zone. It takes the line “Mankind was my business!” from Charles Dickens’s story, and turns it into a tale about America’s role on the international stage. It doesn’t linger on the trimmings of Christmas, instead taking a long, hard look at the dead, the dying and the suffering. At times it feels like a Christmas special from the makers of Threads.

The film also boasts a turn by Peter Sellers as a terrifying post-apocalyptic cult leader.

Peter Sellers appears in a modern remake of A Christmas Carol penned by the writer of The Twilight Zone and Planet of the Apes seems like a genuine piece of television history, and yet it’s virtually impossible to find today. Since its first broadcast in 1964, the film was only available to view at the Paley Center for Media in New York and Los Angeles and the UCLA Film and Television Archive in Los Angeles, and rare bootleg copies.

In 2012 TCM broadcast it for the first time since its original showing, and has done annually since, and has made it available for limited-time on-demand streaming via TCM.com. But there has never been a home video or DVD release and the film has never been broadcast elsewhere.

So as we go into a recap of the film itself, we’ll issue the standard spoiler warning, but also beware that if you’re waiting to watch it yourself you might have a long search ahead of you.

Three Very Different Ghosts

Watching A Carol for Another Christmas is a strange experience. The film is both frighteningly relevant but also weirdly dated, and extremely of its time. The structure of the story is the one you already know.

Scrooge- here called “Daniel Grudge”, is approached by his nephew, argues with him about Christmas, then is approached by three ghosts bearing the three usual messages, “You weren’t always this way”, “Others are not like you”, and finally “This is what will happen if you continue this way”.

Grudge, a wealthy industrialist, is approached by his nephew, Fred, who is furious because Grudge has put a stop to a foreign academic exchange scheme, and we’re already seeing here where Serling is leaving the source material behind.

Grudge’s sin isn’t mere miserliness. He’s an all-out American isolationist. He wants the foreigners to stay behind their fences while America stays behind its own, and Fred’s argument that America has no choice but to engage in the international community falls on deaf ears.

Grudge’s motive for this is that his son, Marley, is a soldier who has died fighting a war elsewhere (based on the timing we can reasonably guess it’s Vietnam). He’s angry that every 20 years the US gets dragged into a foreign war, and sees the UN and foreign exchange schemes and similar as getting involved in and giving handouts to places where it isn’t America’s business. His ideal is for the USA to stay behind its fence, building faster jets and bigger bombs so that other countries know to leave it alone.

After seeing a brief apparition of Marley, Grudge is transported to a boat, filled with coffins covered in the flags of different nations. The Ghost of Christmas past that introduces himself to us is as the war dead. Not just the American war dead, but an amalgamation of everyone who ever died in a war.

In a line that will have unexpected resonance for modern viewers, Grudge describes the war dead as a “sucker brigade”.

It’s a fascinating but confusing exchange. Serling, through his stories and his words, was openly against the Vietnam War, and yet his proxy, the Ghost of Christmas Past, makes a passionate case for America’s involvement in foreign wars “every twenty years” with a clear nod towards the combat in Vietnam. Ultimately, the Ghost of Christmas Past is arguing for the importance of talking. “When you don’t talk, you fight,” he says.

The most chilling moment comes when the Ghost reminds Grudge of his comment that other countries need to know America “isn’t too chicken to use the bomb”, and points out that they already know it.

The next scene takes Grudge back to his naval service, inspecting a hospital in Hiroshima after the bomb was dropped, and for a piece of 1960s prime-time Christmas viewing, it does not pull its punches. Rod Serling served in the occupational force in Japan and he has no time for sugar-coating this.

A doctor introduces young Grudge to Japanese children who looked up as the bomb detonated and had their faces flash burned off. The film lingers on these children and refuses to move on until you get a sense of the true horror of Hiroshima. It’s something you can’t picture TV doing today, and definitely not on ABC on the 28th of December.

“Watching Makes all the Difference”

The Ghost of Christmas Present at first seems far more like the one we remember from the Muppets. A man in a dressing gown gorging himself on a banquet. The Ghost of Christmas Present isn’t here to take Grudge on a rooftop flight, however- even with 1960s TV budget permitting.

Read more

TV

How The Twilight Zone Influenced Are You Afraid of the Dark?

By Chris Longo

Instead, the dark background lights up to reveal this banquet table is right next to the barbed wire fence of an internment camp for displaced peoples, another image that is horribly resonant for modern audiences. As Grudge criticises the ghost for eating his feast while starving refugees watch, the Ghost simply responds that the “watching makes all the difference”.

Once again, Serling isn’t here to talk about “the needy” as some vague concept to make people feel better about themselves. He talks about giving people around the world vaccinations for their children, rolls off figures such as 13 million people with tuberculosis, 130 million with malaria, three billion suffering from hunger. He talks about people closing their windows as violent crimes occur in the street- mere months after the murder of Catherine Susan Genovese, the story which would eventually lead to the codifying of the “By-Stander Effect”.

The Ghost of Christmas Past says “You were not always like this”, the “you” is America, the “were not always like this” is (even with Hiroshima) a somewhat rose-tinted view of America’s foreign policy interventions.

The Ghost of Christmas Present says “Others are not like you”, and in this case shows us the suffering around the world and the USA’s responsibility to it.

Anyone who’s seen a version of A Christmas Carol before knows what comes next, and it doesn’t take a Ghost of Christmas Future to guess what the next vision will entail.

Grudge finds himself in his local town hall, a bombed-out wreck. The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, a far more verbose spirit of Christmas future than we’ve come to expect, points out that in this future people have “less need for a platform for debate”.

One of the things that most jars with a modern audience watching this film, aside from an oddly uncritical perception of America’s role on the world stage, is the film’s constant refrain that “debate” is a good thing. In this film “debate” is what you do instead of fighting, it’s a way to find compromise, to solve problems. It rings very strangely in a time when “debate” is mostly associated with rhetorical games played in bad faith, and the idea we have some sort of duty to listen to and validate even the most toxic ideas.

We learn, unsurprisingly, that when the talking stopped the fighting started, and now the last few humans are living in the radioactive ruins of the civilisation that came before.

Then we meet Peter Sellers’ character, the Imperial Me. This is Sellers at his most comic and sinister, dressed up like an 18th-century pilgrim wearing a huge hat with “ME” written on it in giant sequins. Sellers is leading a horde of post-apocalyptic cultists to war against a nearby community that wants to “talk” and “debate”. The Imperial Me takes Grudge’s philosophy to its ultimate extreme, all that anyone should look out for is themselves. The Individual Me is above all, and after this tribe has killed off all the other rival tribes, they will set to killing each other, until the last individual is alone in the perfect society.

I’ve friends who work in the NHS with patients who won’t wear a mask “because it protects you, it doesn’t protect me”, so this scene hasn’t lost any of its bite.

Anyway, you know how the story goes from here. Grudge asks if these are things that will be or things that may be. He wakes up at home on Christmas morning. He reconciles with his nephew, admitting that “no man is an island”.

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But one thing this version misses is Grudge doesn’t then go on to eat a fabulous feast with his family. Instead, he takes his morning coffee in the kitchen, while his black servants work around him (and probably wish he’d sod off back to his study). It’s an oddly sparse ending compared to what we’re used to with our Christmas Carols.

Carols for Other Christmases

At the time this strange, didactic retelling of A Christmas Carol saw mixed reactions. It’s a film that doesn’t mind lecturing its audience, and quite a few reviewers took against it for that. The right-wing advocacy group the John Birch Society particularly took against it, organising a letter-writing campaign against the film before it was even broadcast.

Is the film preachy? Hell yes. But so is the source material. Where it differs from the source material is that it offers far less comfort, far less of the warmth we see with Fred and Fezziwig and Bob Cratchit, while the threats it warns of are a great deal more severe.

Perhaps it’s a film that is most interesting as an artefact of a particular time and the anxieties it had.

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But also it’s an example of the power of Charles Dickens’s story when it’s allowed to be more than a twee festive tradition. It’s a story that should have a sharp political bite as much as warm fuzzy nostalgia. As much as it’s a Christmas story, A Christmas Carol is a ghost story, and ghost stories are meant to be scary.

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