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songmingisthighs · 3 years

Text

[9.45] yeosang × single mom!reader

⇀ being a single mom, you'd obviously be worried about your child's wellbeing. In this case though? Your child's relationship with your boyfriend. But honestly, this is Kang Yeosang we're talking about, what could possibly go wrong?

When you got home that afternoon, the last thing you expected to see was your apartment being so quiet.

You've raised a beautiful baby girl on your own so it's only natural for you to experience chaos every day and ever since little Jueun started kindergarten, her social skills had progressed slightly.

Jueun, the light of your life, is a shy little girl, having only several constant people in her life which made her not so easily open to other people that she had just met. While other children would run off to make friends on the first day of kindergarten, Jueun went straight to the book collection about dinosaurs.

Yes, dinosaurs.

She's a little quirky like that.

Ask her what she wanna be when she grows up, she'll tell you she wants to be a princess with a pet ankylosaurus.

Knowing her introversion, you had hesitated on letting your boyfriend, Yeosang, and her to meet. It's not because you're afraid that they won't like each other or that Jueun would feel that you'd force him as her new daddy, but simply because you're afraid that they won't have anything to talk about.

You initially introduced them to each other when you had been in a relationship with Yeosang for 3 months, before that you had only told both of them stories about the other, buttering them up to like the other.

Not so surprisingly though, Yeosang had told you that he likes Jueun even before meeting her. Which was a relief to say the least. So when they met, Yeosang tried so hard to make Jueun like him. This effort doesn't go unnoticed by the little girl, but she didn't immediately take a liking to him. You've always been there to mediate between the two even though they had known each other for well over half a year now.

Today however, you had no other choice but to ask Yeosang for help picking Jueun up from kindergarten as you were swamped with a project at work.

Yeosang was more than happy to provide aid, but the notion that he'd be alone with the kid whom he doesn't know whether or not she likes him almost made him puke.

But he sucked it up.

He walk up to the gates of the kindergarten, approaching the teacher on standby, "I'm Kang Yeosang, I'm here to pick Jueun (Y/L/N) from class A-3," he said, smiling awkwardly. The teacher smiled brightly at him while nodding, "of course! Ms. (Y/L/N) called in earlier and told us that you'll be picking her up, I'll go get her," then she walked into the building to get Jueun.

Whilst waiting, Yeosang could feel himself sweating a little, nervous about how Jueun would react when seeing him instead of her mom.

When he saw Jueun came out with her backpack strapped on, looking cuter than a bunny with marshmallows stuffed into its cheeks, he smiled brightly at her.

Jueun's eyes wide when she saw Yeosang, having been familiar with him but never really surpasses any significant level with him.

"Hey, Jueun-ie," Yeosang greeted, crouching down to her height. She smiled shyly at him, making his insides clench at the effortless adorableness. "Your mommy need to work a little longer, would it be alright if I take you home?" Honestly, Yeosang didn't know why he asked that in the first place, but knowing that this particular little kid is smarter than most kids her age, he felt like the question was appropriate.

A sudden look of determination appeared on Jueun's face as she nodded eagerly. She knew how important she and Yeosang is to you. Knowing how much you love and provide for her, she's beyond willing to try and let Yeosang in.

Yeosang stood up and was about to walk but Jueun raised her right hand up at him, "safety, mommy said I have to hold her hand at all times, so I should hold yours," she said.

Hearing that, Yeosang smack his forehead dramatically, "ugh! Of course! How bad of me to be so careless!" He said as he grab Jueuen's hand as she giggled at how silly he sounded.

During the walk, Yeosang tried asked her questions about what she did at kindergarten that day. Surprisingly, Jueun blabbered long about what she did, what she ate, who did what, and when was that.

As they walk home, Jueun suddenly stopped her steps in front of the convenience store right outside your apartment. When her steps halt, Yeosang's too.

Yeosang was about to ask her why she stopped walking but Jueun was already looking at him with her best puppy eyes. He crouched down in front of her, "what's wrong Jueun-ie? Why did you stop?" he asked to which Jueun pouted and pointed at the convenience store, "I want ice cream," she said sadly.

Her eyes alone rendered him defenseless. But he was hesitant because he knows that this is not his kid and he doesn't know whether or not you'd let her eat ice cream.

"I don't know, Jueun," he muttered, scratching the back of his head with his free hand. Realizing he's not outwardly saying no, Jueun pulled out the big guns, "pleeeeeease," she whined, wrapping her tiny arms around Yeosang's neck, "please, daddy, please," she pleaded as her pout deepens.

The use of the 'd' word-

No, not THAT 'd' word.

The use of said 'd' word made Yeosang's eyes widen to its maximum extent.

"D-d-did you j-just called m-me..." he trailed off, not really able to said the word himself. Whether or not Jueun realizes how much the word affect Yeosang was unclear, but she definitely knows, based on Yeosang's expression that she's getting what she wants.

"Please, daddy?" she asked one more time.

And true to her prediction, Yeosang scooped her in his arms and walked into the convenience store, letting her pick any ice cream she wants.

Jueun now knows that she has Yeosang in the palm of her hands by simply uttering the word 'daddy' to him.

Which is why as you got home at 7.30, you were greeted with the sight of Yeosang and Jueun in her little tea party table, wearing a tiara and pretending to sip some pretend tea.

Oh, and best part is. Yeosang is also wearing a tiara and a pink feather boa around his neck.

"Wow, you guys seem to be having a lot of fun together," you smirked, breaking their conversation as the little girl jumps up and run to hug your legs.

Yeosang stood up as well, pulling the feather boa from around his neck to set it on the table. He walked closer and peck your lips, "welcome home, love, how was work?" you sighed and shook your head at his question, "disastrous, but I don't wanna talk about it, I wouldn't want to ruin the fun that you're both having right now," you grinned down at Jueun, "how did you manage to get Yeosang to wear a tiara, baby?"

Jueun shook her head excitedly, "I didn't, mommy! Daddy put it himself!" your eyes widened at her choice of pronoun, snapping your head towards Yeosang who had a big, proud grin on his face, "yeah... I guess I'm her daddy now," he chuckled as Jueun decided to run out of the room.

"Yeosang, we never talked about this," you said to him lowly, not really wanting Jueun to hear your worries. Yeosang's grin dropped to a frown as he steps closer to you, taking both of your hands in his, "why? Do you not want her to see me as a father figure?" "It's not that, it's just," you paused, thinking of the right words before continuing, "I don't want her to be attached to someone she considered her dad only for that someone to leave her,"

Hearing that from you made Yeosang realize that it wasn't just you worrying over Jueun, but you're also worrying about yourself too and how it would affect you and Jueun if he leaves.

Smiling gently at you, Yeosang leaned his forehead against yours, "you don't have to worry about me leaving because I'm not gonna, I'm gonna stay with you both until you all get sick of me and kick me to the curb," he joked, making you laugh, "so please, can we celebrate the fact that Jueun called me dad and that I'm moving in with you two?"

You raised an eyebrow at him, "who said you're moving in with us?" "I did, yeah, Jueun's convinced there's an evil sorcerer living in her closet and I promised her that I'll shoo him away every night before bedtime,"

It warms your heart knowing that your two favorite person got along so well. Had you known that leaving them both alone together would end up like this, you would've done it months ago.

You were about to comment on him moving in again when suddenly Jueun's voice was heard from the kitchen, "daddy! I can't- I can't reach the ice cream!"

As soon as you both heard that, you narrowed your eyes at Yeosang, "you bought my kid ice cream?" to which he rolled his eyes at you, "well she's my kid now too," he defended. You couldn't believe that you'd ever hear him say that but hearing that he's Jueun's dad seems so natural to you.

Giggling, you pushed him out of Jueun's room, "well then, please go and handle your daughter,". He blushed slightly as he tried to suppress the grin that was threatening to form on his face. So he opted to ran to Jueun.

But before he could walk too far, you grab his hand to say something.

"By the way, congrats on being a dad,"

#ateez #ateez scenario #ateez imagine #yeosang #kang yeosang #ateez yeosang #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez au #au #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #kpop au #yeosang au #smt #timestamp #ateez timestamp #kpop timestamp #smt timestamp

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spideymarvelws · 3 years

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ooo!! no pressure but- #9 in random with in-game!techno? (i hope ur day's been alright!!)

my day has been decent lmaoo but your request definitely made it better😊I hope you enjoy!

Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To My Taglist / Prompt List

Prompt : “I want to try something,” “Oh god, please no.”

Warnings : just cute floof, mentions of killing, the voices being pricks

Word Count : 1.6k

Flowers Coated In Colour

Technoblade x GN!Reader

Techno let out a small sigh as he saw his cottage come into view. It was a long day for the piglin, with the sudden betrayal of Tommy, doomsday happening tomorrow and the extensive preparations for whatever dream had in store, it was safe to say that he was burnt out for the day.

His backed weighed heavy with supplies and tools, along with all the voices who just repeated the same thing over and over in his head.

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD

He ended up killing a lot more animals and mobs that necessary in hopes that they might calm and decrease his aching head ache but nothing worked. They only grew more violent, frustrated with him that his sword met the body of a sheep and not the neck of a member of L'Manburg.

Which is why he rushed home, reaching the snowy biome earlier that anticipated. The sun was close to setting as he rode Carl into the stables, feeding him a little bit of hay and renewing his water before stepping back out and closing the fence shut.

He trudged to the front of the house, opening the door and slamming it shut, cursing that he might've woken you up. You often fell asleep in his arms and today was no exception. After returning home from the event at the community house (well, what was left of it), you both comforted each other by the fireplace, keeping each other close while whispering sweet and reassuring words.

It was one of the rare times the voices went silence, completely replaced by your presence. No wonder they were so rowdy now, pounding in the back of his head like splinters digging into his skin.

They must pay for there crimes

They have no chance against us

Manburg with fall

Dream seems sketchy

He might use you too

He will use you too

He fell back against the wooden doors, his rough hands slapping against his face, scratching at the scared skin. He wants to destroy L'Manburg, he wanted to watch as the country fell under his wrath, destroying the land it stood on.

The only thing keeping his back was you, was Phil, was all his pets and memories he held at his now joke of a secret home. Quackity and the rest of the butcher army had gotten to them once, used them against him and almost had him executed and you killed if it wasn't for Dream and Punz interfering. Phil had been put on house arrest and Carl stolen from his grasp.

Whose to say they wouldn't do it again? Whose to say that his efforts would lead to nothing but a stronger country that might end up a bigger threat to his cause.

Techno didn't have much weaknesses, some may argue that he had none at all. But he knew from the very beginning that his weakness was his relationships with a select few of people on the SMP and knowing that others were figuring that out as well, he was putting everyone he was close with at risk.

He felt unhinged, the small control he’s been holding on to for so long unraveling by the seems. He trying to keep it for tomorrow, but the voices only started to convince him more and more that he should walk into L’Manburg by himself and take out everyone in their sleep.

That wasn’t what his motives were. He wanted to take down the country, not the people.

But the voices demanded blood.

Suddenly, he felt the soft touch of hands on his, closing around them and prying them off his face, breaking him out of his internal conflict. He hesitantly opened his eyes, meeting your worried, glittering eyes.

And suddenly, everything went silent.

“Everything alright their Tech?” you asked, squeezing his hands for comfort.

He blinked, mustering a small smile for you, “Yeah, yeah everything’s... perfect.”

You nodded, letting go of his hands and moving them to his neck.

“Phil’s already asleep if that’s what you wondering,” you said softly, helping him take off his massive cape and resting it to the side.

He hummed in acknowledgment, carefully prying off his skull mask over his face and taking off his crown with a huff and setting both items down besides his red cape.

“Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes,” you smiled up at him, taking his face into the palms of your hands. He sighed at the warmth, melting into your touch. He engulfed your small hands in his, finding comfort in your soft skin.

“Long day?”

“You wouldn’t believe.”

You leaned up on your tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to the tip of his nose, sending a wave of pink up his face and his large ears to wiggle in delight. Usually, he would shake his head, move away from your affection. But in recent times he’s learnt to accept it and reciprocate it in the best way he could.

“Then come on then,” you cooed, taking his hand and pulling him to the carpet in front of the fireplace that had a mountain of pillows and blankets. You loved to snuggle into them, sometimes reading stories to Edward or just watching the flames slowly disappear.

You fell back against blankets, crossing your legs and placing a pillow in the middle. You raised your arms, gesturing for him to join you. He gave you a questioning look but gave in quickly, dragging his body and settling down on the floor, letting his back fall and his head bounce on the pillow in your lap. One of his legs were bent, the other laid out on the ground, his hands clasped together on his stomach.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, eye brows raised.

"I want to try something," you mumbled, passing your hand through his hair.

"Oh god, please no." he grumbled, but his tone contrasted to his movements. His eyes closed with his head tilted backwards, snorting in appreciation at your touch.

You rolled your eyes, tugging harshly at his hair changing his happy noises to a playful growl, "It's nothing bad Techno,"

"Well knowing you, that statement means nothing."

You scoffed, "Glad to know you think so highly of me,”

He whined when your hands felt his hair, glaring up at you. You looked down at him with a playful smile, squeezing his cheeks and making him pout, “Who knew the blood god was such a softie,”

His nose flared while you giggled at his reaction, reaching behind you and grabbing something he couldn't see.

“Now relax... I won’t be doing anything bad I promise.”

He was about to protest until he felt your fingers entangle themselves in. his hair once again, lulling back into a meditative state. You hummed as you worked on his hair, sometimes he would feel something thin and sharp poke at his scalp but he payed no mind to it.

As much as he loved anarchy and chaos, he would give up anything to stay like like with you forever. It was hard for him to trust people but when he did, he took advantage of the love and you gave him and held everything you did together to his heart, valuing it more than money or strong tools and gear.

After a while, he started to doze off on your lap, eyes fluttering shut while you continued to work on his hair. After a few minutes, you finally finished.

“Done.” you whispered, shaking him out of his light slumber.

“I’m scared.” he mumbled, snuggling further into your lap.

“Hey, hey, don’t move.” you stilled his head with your hands, “You’re going to knock them out.”

“Knock what out?” he questioned, only to have you wave a mirror in front of his face.

He bit his lip at the sight, grumbling under his breath. In his hair held various flowers, shades of blue, purple and pink standing out against his light pink locks. You gently tucked a rose pricked of its thorns behind his ear, leaning down to quickly peck his forehead.

“Now that you have short hair, I wanted to see if I could still decorate your hair without braiding it in,” you said shyly, “It’s not the most secure but I made it work..”

Techno chuckled, “You really miss the long hair don’t you?”

You nodded, twirling a loose piece of pink between your fingers, “More that you imagine... but- I think it’s growing on me.”

“That’s great,” he yawned, “Yeah, that’s great.”

You laughed, caressing the side of his face lightly, “Get some rest Techno, you got a big day tomorrow,”

He hummed, letting his eyes flutter shut, “Yeah... I do don’t I?”

You nodded, “Blowing up a country does call for rest,”

“Why yes-” he yawned once more, “Yes it does,”

With that he started to doze off, his cheek pressed against the cushion beneath him as his head lolled to the side. He wasn’t expecting to get any sleep tonight, he was ready to stay up all night, doing mindless tasks to distract him from the voices that never shut up in his head.

But while your touch faded from his mind, his breath lengthening into an even pattern, he knew everything would be alright.

As long as he had you...

Everything would be alright.

BONUS :

“Hey, what’s that in your hair techno?” dream asked as he sat comfortably on the obsidian grid, pointing to behind the anarchists head.

“Heh?” he sounded, his hand shooting to his hair and pulling out a small purple flower, slightly withered and blood coating the edges of the petals.

He smiled softly, letting his thumb pass on the delicate flower. Pocketing the plant, he kept his head high, adjusting his hold on his sword. He knew that it would further deteriorate in the small enclosure but he wanted proof to take home to you to say that your new methods of decorating his hair was more effective than you thought.

“Nothing Dream...” he finally mumbled, biting the inside of his lip to hide the smile forming on his face, “nothing at all...”

...

I like to think that techno lets out piglin noises when he’s happy🥰

Permanent Taglist (Dream SMP) : @ossinsworld @lunarinnit @chaosofsmarty

Technoblade Taglist : @hyumiid @whenpugzfly @sammyxn

#technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #technoblade x y/n #mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader

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demon-slayer-chaos · 3 years

Note

hi!! <3 can you please do a jealous muzan scenario and what do you think would his darling’s reaction be?

🌹~Jealous Muzan x F!reader~🌹

"Calm down honey."

Thank you for the request! It's very much appreciated! In this, The reader is Muzan's wife! Also, Bonus points for a request of my man Muzan♥️ -Chaos

Tw: Jealous Muzan. Angst, slight Yandere like behavior. Douma trying to steal you in a romantic way. Muzan getting ready to whoop some ass. NSFW themes mentioned (nothing actually happens) Btw there is some fluff at the end to make up for all of this chaos.

Requested: Yes

🔒Requests are closed as of now🔒

I sighed softly as I sat down on the large bed in my room. Today has been long and rough.

I've done nothing but hang out with the twelve Kizuki, and oh boy that was a mistake. A big, mistake.

All because I was bored, Muzan was out, doing whatever. I was forced to stay back because he's afraid if anyone finds out about me, His Human wife, I'll be tracked down and kidnapped, or even killed. I understand why he wants me to stay, but I can't help but get bored.

Yes, you heard me correctly, I'm Muzan's human wife, yes. Human.

Now, how did a person like me catch the eyes of a demon overlord? I don't really know... But, he's kept me around, and he says he loves me.

I can't help but think he's lying to me sometimes... I mean, I'm a human. Why do I matter so much to him? I've got many questions.. like, why hasn't he turned me into a demon yet? Why did he pick me? Why do I have to be hidden away from everyone?But never the less with all the questions I'm probably never going to get the answer to, he loves me, and I love him back...

But today, I was bored, And I decided to hang out with a few of the upper moons. Usually I'm not allowed near them, as Muzan doesn't want me getting hurt but I'm sure these demons know very well not to harm me.

It was fun, just hanging out peacefully, until Douma walked in. Anytime he was near me, he'd get extremely... Unsettling. He'd be lovey, and he'd want my attention, but as soon as I'd go to talk or even look at Akaza, or anyone else for that matter. He'd get slightly mad and direct my attention back to him.

"S/O! I'm so happy to see you my dear!" He'd always say as he'd pick me up and hug me tightly, I've gotten used to his hugs by now, so I just hug him back and hope for the best.

But this was the one time I didn't want anything to do with him, I just wanted to read in peace. But that clearly wasn't going to happen.

"S/O! I wanna do something with you!" He said excited, I looked up from my book and gave him a blank stare.

"Douma, I don't want to do anything. I just want to relax and read." I said softly, he just shook his head and forced me up off the ground, making me drop my book in the process.

"It will be fun! I promise." He said as he dragged me off. I sighed and went along with him. I looked back at Akaza and he just shook his head, he usually would have said something to Douma about respecting me, but it was already too late.

"Douma, what are you doing?" I asked as we stopped. We were in a small room, and there was a record player. The tall demon was fiddling with something by the record player.

"I want to dance with you darling." He said as he placed down a record and the music started. It was calm.. and hypnotic. He held his hand out to me, and I accepted it. By then, he pulled me closer to his chest, and he spun me around, taking his time to move us both elegantly across the room.

I couldn't help but smile, Dancing with an upper moon? I could never think of it happening. But here we are.

We kept dancing and laughing, he was right, this was fun. This lasted for quite awhile, we danced through two songs.

At the end of the second song, he pulled me closer to him, making us chest to chest, he then dipped me. I squeaked and hold onto him for dear life, as I was unprepared.

"You look so adorable when you're scared S/O... I'd like to see that face more often." He chuckled as he lifted me back up and spun me around around.

He kept dancing with me, even though I was tired, and I wanted to stop, he wouldn't let me go. His sadistic smile never leaving his face, I gently tried to push him away, but he just grabbed my wrists and forced me to stop as we danced.

"Douma please— I'm tired. I don't think my legs can take this anymore." I plead, he simply chuckles.

"Not yet my dear, there's something I want you to do~" He said teasingly, I rolled my eyes and sighed at his playful flirting.

"And that is...?"

"I want you to kiss me." He said boldly, My eyes widen in shock. He knows I'm married to Muzan...

"Now, I know what you're thinking. "But I'm married to Lord Kibutsuji." trust me, I know very well... But... I love you so much more than him my dear, I want nothing more than to make you mine without punishment." He said as he smiled, he then pinned me to the wall.

I was in shock, I knew Douma liked me, it's been very obvious, but I didn't think he'd be this bold about it.

"Douma... With all due respect, I will not do that. I belong to one man only, and that is Muzan." I said firmly. He didn't like that.

He looked over my body, lust building up in his eyes. I tried to push him away again, but it was no match for a demon like him.

He then leaned in, and kissed my cheek.

"You'll be mine soon enough... Once your body starts to crave mine just as much as I crave you." he spoke lowly near my ear. I closed my eyes in fear. I didn't like this.

All of a sudden, Doumas hands were removed from my wrists and I was in a pair of strong, comforting arms. It was my husband.

The demon overlord stared down at the demon, who was thrown off to the side and on the ground.

"Just what do you think you are doing to what's mine?" His voiced hissed out, as his arms wrapped tighter around my waist. Not enough to hurt me, but enough to know that he was being protective. I simply just melted into his touch.

"Ah, Nothing! I was simply dancing with dear S/O!" Douma said with a goofy, yet guilty smile.

"Having her pinned against the wall? That's not dancing Douma." Muzan said with anger. The other demons smile didn't fade away.

"You're lucky I don't murder you here myself... But, I don't want my pet to see such a disgusting sight. Consider this a warning." He spat as he teleported away with me in his arms.

And that's what has led up to now. I was exhausted and tired. But, I was in my shared bedroom with my husband, his arms were wrapped around my waist, and he wasn't letting go.

He had his head on my shoulder, and I just gently leaned into his touch, I could tell he was still jealous. It's been an hour since that happened.

"Darling... you know you're mine and only mine correct?" He asked. This is the first time he's spoken up since he found me earlier.

"Of course darling, I know that very well. I belong to you, and you only." I said softly as he started to gently play with my hair. I could tell he was still mad, but not mad at me. There's a difference, if he was mad at me, he would have locked me in here alone. I've learn to grow and adapt to his cruel behavior at times. So I can definitely tell when he's mad at me, or someone else.

"Then I hope you know I won't let anyone take you away from me... Not even my own Kizuki." He mumbled, I simply just sighed softly and shifted, so I was facing him, and sitting in his lap.

"You know what I realized about you?" I asked softly, he looked back at me.

"And that is?"

"You're cute when you're jealous. You get so protective of me, like my life has been threatened. I find it so adorable. Especially since you're a demon." I chuckled as I gently took his hat off. Playing with a few strands of his hair.

"A demon overlord being protective of a weak, small human. I can't help but find it cute." And with that, he smiled gently.

"You always manage to calm me down... You're so different from other humans.." he said as he pulled me into his chest, rubbing my small back and playing with my hair a bit again.

"This is exactly why I married you... Such a small, yet adorable pet." After he said that, we stayed like this. In each other's arms.

I yawned softly and eventually, I fell asleep, listening to the soft sound of my demon husband's heartbeat.

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #fluff #x reader #muzan kibutsuji #scenario #kny #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #muzan x reader #kny muzan #muzan #Muzan fluff #jealousy #fanfiction #fanfic #kyojuro rengoku #shinobu kochou #tanjuro kamado #tengen uzui

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my2phetaliaheadcanons · 3 years

Note

If possible... Headcannons/fanfic from 2p Germany and 2p Russia, separately, taking interest in a friend from one country? Context: The country's friend is immortal, because of problems she went in her country's replacement at the meeting with the other countries. She has a very affectionate and outgoing personality, so she quickly picks up romantic interest from the attendees.

Sorry it took so long. Here it is!

2p Russia

A lone tall man walked through the basement halls of the United Nations building. His large, long blacked coat protected him from the chill of the A.C. and in his left hand was a simple black briefcase. His steps were quiet along the concrete, but his momentary silence would not last for much longer.

A set of steel doors sat closed and was located at the end of the hall. The sounds that lied within warned of chaos and death. Viktor blew a hard breath through his nose, as much as he wanted to leave, this meeting was important. It was the first time in a long time that all the 2ps were meeting and to avoid it could be costly.

Opening the door Viktor noticed that many nations were grouped together. The Nordics were in the back corner of the room talking about business. Germany and Italy were near their seats, both seemed to be scanning the crowd. Viktor guessed it was to see the missing member of their trio. Once Viktor found his seat, his eyes wandered around again.

This time his eye drifted over to the FACE family. Normally there were shouts and the clink of coins hitting glass, but today it was much quieter. As Viktor looked closer at the four, he realized something. Allen wasn’t there. Instead, there was a woman among them. She was (Y/H) and had (S/C) skin. The strange woman was leaning against the sitting blond Canadian. Both were talking and were smiling. Viktor did note that Matt seemed to have a small blush on his face. His observation was interrupted by a voice.

“All right-a everyone. Take your-a seats and shut-a up!”

Viktor grunted and looked over as the woman moved to take Allen’s seat. His eyebrow rose, this would take some investigating. But that would have to wait.

The meeting went almost as Viktor had expected. Various nations would present an issue, try to make it seem that their homes were thriving, and others would say their piece on an issue. During each part of this song and dance, some nation would then distract everyone. The main offender this time happened to be Macau. He had been going around attempting to piss of Italy so that he could win a bet.

Overall a normal meeting, but Viktor could not help but be distracted by the (E/C) beauty. She had been outgoing the entire meeting. Asking questions to the presenters, offering solutions, and overall being pleasant. It was cute, but there was one habit that stood out, pet names. Each person was given their own.

Despite the cuteness, Viktor was getting annoyed. It was not at the charming lady, but rather at his fellow nations. Their infatuation was apparent in the blushes and sudden smiles that came from their interactions with her. Viktor was not pleased with how others looked at her like a meal or a treasure. He also wasn’t pleased that he was feeling this way over a stranger, better yet a stranger attached to Allen.

With the end of the meeting came the desire for answers. Viktor rose quickly like a weasel looking for prey. He moved calmly and quickly over to the stranger. There he stood, in front of her but unnoticed, while she giggled and affectionately was playing around with England. Viktor felt his ire increase when she gave the killer baker a kiss. His blush made Viktor’s stomach twist in a painful way.

Before confronting her, Viktor looked over to the Canadian that seemed to be looking over at the pair jealously.

“Kaнaдa, who is this?”

“That’s (Y/N) (L/N). An old friend of Al’s, we’ve known her since childhood and since Al’s buried under work, he asked her to step in for him.”

Viktor just hummed in response. This woman was becoming more interesting. With two steps and a cough, Viktor stood in front of the playful pair.

Their attention turned to him quickly. The Brit did not look happy to be interrupted, while the woman smiled at him. Using his practiced grace Viktor reached out and took her hand. A gentle kiss was placed upon it.

“Hello, Ms. (L/N). I am the Russian Federation. Is there a chance you have a moment to discuss some things with me?”

(Y/N) covered her mouth and giggled. To Viktor, and many others it sounded like silver bells.

“Of course, I have some time before I have to get these notes to Al.”

Being the gentleman, he offered her his elbow. She responded with a bright smile and (Y/N) hooked her arm into his and followed the red eyed male out.

It was not long before they found a spot to sit and discuss. Their conversations soon left the topics of business and became more personal. Viktor was intrigued, despite the difference in the centuries she had lived, he couldn’t help but feel connected to her. To him her presence felt like a balm for his soul.

A beeping turned the chatting duo into silent statues. It was (Y/N)’s phone. She glanced quickly at it and grimaced.

“I’m sorry Viktor, I have got to get going. Al’s waiting for me and these papers.”

Of course. Allen just had to cut their time short. Standing alongside (Y/N), Viktor offered to give her a ride. Just something to give him more time to bask in her glow.

Being the true optimist, (Y/N) accepted with an enthusiastic yes!

The trip to his car and then to Al’s apartment felt too fast for Viktor. Before (Y/N) could leave the car. Viktor looked at (Y/N), he felt emotions that could not be explained easily, but he knew one thing. He needed to get to know (Y/N) better. So, he was going to take a chance.

“Would you care to go on a date with me? It is nothing serious, just a chance for us to get to know one another better.”

(Y/N) was not surprised. She just smiled and looked back at Viktor while getting out of the car.

“I would love to, but you need to realize one thing. I have noticed quite a few nations giving me the same goo-goo eyes that you have. So, be prepared for a fight for my heart.”

With a wink and giving Viktor a small sheet of paper, (Y/N) was gone. She had waltzed into Allen’s apartment building like a dream.

Looking down Viktor saw that the sheet was her phone number. Despite his cold heart, Viktor smirked to himself. He would figure out these feelings and if God willed it, he would secure her heart.

2p Germany

It was too loud and cold in this basement. The chaos had decided to get started before the meeting. Nations were yelling and weapons were flying. The A.C. was blowing like it was the reason for the next ice age. It was all annoying. All Luther wanted to do was sleep, maybe people watch, but that wouldn’t happen if these conditions continued.

With a deep groan Luther sat up straight and stretched. The sound of a satisfying pop alerted him that his stretching had relaxed muscles.

Luther glanced at the clock, and his head tilted to the left like a confused puppy. It was about ten minutes after the hour. That means the meeting should have started ten minutes ago, why hadn’t it started? He glanced around and understood one thing. Luciano, aka Italy, was not there.

Luther felt a little embarrassed he should have realized that earlier, but in his defense, the exhaustion and the beginnings of a headache ate at his awareness. Before he could wonder about the location of his missing Genosse, a (Y/H) woman ran over to the podium at the front of the room.

Her hair was wild, her face was flushed, gorgeous (E/C) looked around excitedly. She carried a smile as she reached forward and tapped on the microphone.

“Hello everyone, I apologize for being late. But I am (Y/N) (L/N) and I’m stepping in for Italy today. Sadly, he is out due to getting grounded and he has asked that I lead this meeting.”

Luther raised a brow and smirked. How cute. This pretty little vixen was now attempting to lead the meeting. The next few hours would be fun, well for him anyway.

For many nations the meeting was considered normal. Interruptions and fighting, before the more business-oriented nations took back control. This included the lovely (Y/N), but try as she may to keep the focus, many nations shattered her attempts like already cracked glass.

For one thing, Austria could not leave (Y/N) be. He was constantly interrupting presenting nations by breaking in rock ballads, mostly singing about (Y/N). While Norway was asking her whether or not she wanted to see a flaming heart, no one was quite sure what that mean. Since it was Norway, everyone knew that fire and pyros should not mix, except for (Y/N). Luckily Denmark stopped him by confiscating his lighter. Lastly, Luther joined in. He was dropping pickup lines and teasing (Y/N). Other nations did some stuff too, but it was not as entertaining as those three.

Throughout it all (Y/N) just giggled and responded with affection. In some cases, it was a compliment, other nations got gentle gestures. Those that received her affection either blushed or looked a little shocked.

Luther knew (Y/N) was gorgeous before, but her outgoing and sweet nature made her much more lovely. He thought he might be developing a crush, but Luther didn’t dwell to long on that thought. Mostly because everyone was getting up to leave and some of his rivals were closing in on (Y/N).

Without thinking it through, Luther quickly moved to take a spot by (Y/N)’s side. (Y/N) was surprised but didn’t seem to be against his presence. Luther gave a side smile and asked to walk her out. Somehow (Y/N)’s smile got even bigger, and she nodded.

Together they walked out of the cold, basement room. Luther gave dark glares at nearby nations while (Y/N) smiled and waved at the nations that walked by.

As they walked, Luther decided to get to know this little beauty more.

“So, how long have you known Luciano?”

“Since the third century, after all we grew up together in a way, though I am still way younger than him.”

This comment caused Luther to stop walking. Was she like them or some other thing that he didn’t know existed? Any way Luciano has some explaining to do later.

Luther watched as (Y/N) slowed, stopped and looked back at him. Her eyes seemed to be full of mischief and a cat-like smile rested on her face.

“Luther, if you don’t want to walk me to Luci’s I’m sure some other nation would be more than happy to take your place.”

Luther’s eyes went wide. He wasn’t expecting this sweet woman to be an observant and playful tease. It was hot.

“Liebling, why call someone else when I’m the only one you need.”

Both let out a chuckle as they stepped through the door that led into the stairwell. This seems to be the start of a classic love story.

#2p headcanons #2p hetalia #2p russia #2p germany #x reader #fic

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barnesand · 3 years

Text

the scent of old stories [ i ]

Summary: You haven’t found your thing here in Brooklyn, but you hope that you’ve found it within the bookstore that happens to be on your work commute. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader AU: *chants* bookshop au, bookshop au, bookshop au. Warnings: No warnings for now! Author’s note: I’ve been down, and I just wanted to write something that made me happy. I don’t know if this is technically fluff, but it’s the start of something new and Alpine is in it. Word Count: 2,551 Words (I'm a damn monster) chapter two can be found here: x

You’ve stumbled upon it during your early morning commute; it was a blur in your periphery the first time, your thoughts steadfast on the sweltering heat of your coffee cup, and it wasn’t until you successfully attuned yourself to your new schedule that you stole a proper glance at it. It was wedged between a coffee shop and insurance agency—two stories at least with gold flourishes and filigree painted at the edges of the window. Through that window you saw the aisles and stacks of books, all old and you gave yourself that short perusal to imagine the alluring scent of old stories. It was during that time that you decided you would take your day off to go inside; you had to.

You haven’t mastered the ability to resist a bookstore, especially one with old books in desperate need of a new bookshelf. Luckily, you had a couple of spots that have yet to be filled. And the Second Hand seemed to be the perfect place to lose a couple of hours scouring the stacks looking for some new companions.

Quick to remember the time that it closed, you tried your best to ignore the glee that settled into the pit of your stomach. How long have you lived in Brooklyn? Not long, and truthfully, you haven’t quite found the thing that made you love it. There were small things that you enjoyed, but you still managed to miss your hometown. You missed your favorite hangouts, the secrets about your home that only you knew. You didn’t have those things in Brooklyn, yet. All you knew was your job, and the streets you took to get there. Perhaps, the Second Hand could be your thing? There would be a seat that you always sat in, and an aisle that you visited so often you memorized all the books that were in it. You could be on a first-name basis with the employees and visit so often that you’d memorize their coffee orders.

Yes, you needed a place to cement your adoration for your new home.

Your day off finally came and dressed in your coziest turtleneck and jeans you followed your familiar work commute until you reached the Second Hand. There was something about the sing-song chime of the bell above a door that made you realize you were going to have a good time. And, just as you suspected, the scent of old stories filled your lungs. You weren’t a big fan of bookstores that looked clean and meticulously organized. You preferred a certain level of chaos—and the Second Hand provided that slight chaos. There were certain aisles thinner than most, due to an overflow of old books that have yet to find a place on the shelves. You could hear the soft mewl of a cat most likely prowling through the stacks above on the second store, and the small piles of books seemed to be on every step of the staircase. You made no effort to hide the elated smile that slid across your features. You clutched tightly to your coffee, making your way towards the staircase.

Indeed, that phantom cat you heard before—snow white and thick around the middle—was lurking on the second story. It leaned against the railing, eyes closed, and you could hear them purring from where you stood at the top. You made a note to ask the shop-keep (wherever they may be), if they had a name and if it was the kind of cat that welcomed a stranger petting them.

Despite being clear signs for each section, you instead made the decision to walk up and down each aisle without a single inclination of what you were looking for. Your fingers lingered over the spines, searching for the ones with the deepest lines. You preferred the ones that made you worry—the ones in which you knew you would have to restore the spines to a certain extent. Because, to you, that meant that it was someone’s favorite. It made you curious, made you wonder what about the story made someone read it over and over and over until the spine was only being held together by sheer faith.

The white cat began to follow you around, weaving between your legs when you stood still. You had to stifle a giggle once or twice when you moved and nearly stumbled over the cat—that was your mistake, you should have known the direction in which the cat was going—when they moved one way and you went the other. By the time you reached the top of the staircase again, prepared to make your descent to the stacks below, you’ve culminated several books.

You meandered halfway down the stairs before looking up, expecting the cat to follow. You tried to hide the pout, not wanting the cat to think you enjoyed your time together or anything.

You reached the bottom step, already scrutinizing over the selection you’ve made so far. Honestly, you should’ve come into the bookstore with at least a budget in mind. Knowing that you didn’t set a hard spending limit was your biggest trouble. Your second was that you hadn’t even looked down the aisles on the first floor, which meant that your stack would get heavier.

You stood on the last step, already looking at the spines—maybe you didn’t need another copy of Anna Karenina. You weren’t much of a Western fanatic, but the premise of it intrigued you and that felt like a good enough reason to keep it. No… no, you’d need a second opinion about it. You looked up to find the front counter mostly abandoned. Somewhere in the stacks you’d probably find an employee (or, if anything else, another customer). Moving towards the counter, you aimed to set your stack of books on the edge of it so that you could retrieve them later.

From the opposite end of the room, you heard a commotion through a cracked door. You stilled, waiting for the person to emerge.

And—fuck. You didn’t expect the person that emerged to look so good. Truthfully, you didn’t quite know which part of him you enjoyed looking at the most. Was it how he nearly filled the doorway with this wide shoulders? Was it how crystalline, even from where you stood, his blue eyes were? No—no, it had to be the stubbled that dusted his sharp jaw, and that dark coif of hair that made your fingertips tingle at the very idea of running through fingers through it? It could be the way his teeth caught his bottom lip for just a second, his brows furrowing apologetically at the sound from earlier, before his mouth curled into a smile.

All the above. That was your answer—all of it.

“Hi,” he said.

“Anna Karenina,” you blurted. You didn’t want to think about the shade of red you suddenly turned, or how dry your throat suddenly became. You sputtered; words unintelligible before you slammed your hand on your stack of books. “I, uh—hi!”

“Hi,” he echoed, only that time it was followed by a short laugh.

He moved toward the counter, and you quickly made note of how tight his shirt was around his shoulders—you also noticed the name of the store embroidered on the pocket of it—and you cleared your throat. He settled behind the counter, that smile of his still fastened onto his face. He was so… pretty, it almost started to hurt. He sat on a stool, placing his elbows onto the countertop and leaning in.

You cleared your throat again, remembering why you placed your books on the counter in the first place. “I’m trying to decide if I need another copy of Anna Karenina. You know I, uh, made the poor choice of going shopping while hungry.”

You sighed. You swore you weren’t always a dork—in fact, you’d like to think of yourself as the female Casanova if you put your mind to it. But there was something about the tilt of his head when he looked at you, the way his smile shifted into a smirk. He reached for the books you’d chosen, and you marveled at the size of his hands with a big gulp. He could see it—you just knew he could see how flustered you were.

“I think my first question to ask is how many times have you read your current copy? I mean, if you’ve only read it once, then what are the odds of you reading this one?” He went through the stack one-by-one, eyeing the spine before nodding to himself. You wish you knew what he was thinking. “I’m also inclined to say, you know, all of them.”

“That’s not a good sign for my back account.”

He looked at you, then, and you felt a pang—not in your heart, but in your gut. The kind of pang that caused chill to climb your spine and told that, oh, you want this man to do awful things to you. Which wasn’t something you felt often. He pressed a hand on top of your stack of books once he was finished and you tried not to think about the size of it. His blue eyes stared you down, and you watched as that smirk of his turned impish almost.

“I think I have a discount code here somewhere,” he mused, reaching into a drawer with his other arm.

You noticed it then, sleek black metal with gold embellishments. The sophistication of the design enamored you, and you couldn’t quite peel your eyes away from the way it moved—which was no different than how you couldn’t peel your eyes away from every single part of him. You swallowed, blinking away the haze before returning your attention back to the conversation.

“I would be eternally grateful,” you answered him.

“I haven’t seen you in here before,” he started to make casual conversation while he filtered through some papers. He paused to look at you, and his blue eyes looked just a little brighter when he did. “I’m Bucky.”

“Reader,” you greeted him. “And, yeah, I haven’t been in here until today. I’m new to town, so—”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Where ya from?”

You told Bucky where you’d come from, how you moved to Brooklyn for work shortly after grad school. For a moment, you started to wonder if he was taking his time looking for that discount, but each time he asked you more about your time in Brooklyn so far, and precisely what your job entailed, you didn’t mind him procrastinating.

“I mean,” you continued. “I’ve done the tourist-y stuff. The bridge. Coney Island. I just haven’t found the little local things that make it feel like home to me. It’s why I dropped in.”

You felt like you should keep that bit to yourself—like you were giving him way too much. For all you knew, he could have been making small talk for the sake of getting a sale. He probably didn’t want to know about your anxieties about living in a new city. But when Bucky looked at you, and listened, you thought you could spill everything. And it made that warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach grow hotter. He finally found what he was looking for, and your smile sank for a moment. The conversation would be over—you could, of course, return. But that meant making another dent in your bank account, and you couldn’t risk hemorrhaging funs all for the sake of looking at his crystalline blue eyes.

“This’ll take about twenty percent off your purchase today, but,” he lifted himself from the stool, leaning in. He tilted his head, in a sort of look at me way and you did precisely that. “I will give you Anna Karenina.”

“Ooh,” you enjoyed the sound of that. “But your boss—”

“I am the boss. And I’m giving this to you on one condition.” He drew in a deep breath, releasing it with a smirk. “Next time you come in; I’d like to give you an incredibly detailed list of things to do. I mean—every hole in the wall joint I can think of. And you gotta do ‘em.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Every single one?”

“Every single one.”

“I don’t think I have that kind of time—”

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to find time. Because it’ll be a long damn list, Reader.”

He winked at you, and you nearly melted. As he started to ring up your purchase, slipping that new copy of Tolstoy into your bag, you’d reached the deepest shade of red. Again, sometimes you could be a Casanova. You could be flirty back—but you really couldn’t find it in you. All you could muster was the personality of a smitten girl and that was what Bucky would be receiving until you found your other self. He was inviting you to come back—he was practically bribing you to come back. Yes, it was because he was a local and wanted to provide you with the hidden secrets of Brooklyn, but he wanted you to come back so he could say it.

You blinked. “How would you know I did each one on your list? Bucky, I could tell you I did everything. Are you gonna quiz me? Should I take notes?” You raised your eyebrows, leaning against the counter.

You felt the white cat again, their purr vibrating softly against your jean-covered calf. You looked down with a small smile, knowing that the cat couldn’t resist you. When you looked up you found Bucky peering over the counter down at the cat.

“That’s Alpine,” he told you, and you were glad in that moment because you were so close to giving Alpine another name. “And—I guess… I guess I’d have to be there to make sure. For certain ones specifically—I’ll arrange it from solo to co-op missions just in case.”

“I-I, yeah.” You sputtered along, grinning from ear-to-ear almost. “You might.”

You don’t remember much about the transaction—but you quickly shoved your card and the receipt into your purse before you were tempted to look at the price. When Bucky handed the bag of books to you, his pointer finger brushed against your knuckles and your knees nearly buckled. You sighed.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you said, nervously. “For the discount. And for the free book.”

He flashed another smile. “You’re welcome, Reader. Don’t forget the deal.”

“I will not.” Because you were sure he just asked you out—you were certain that he had. You wished he were asking you out. You’d understand if he meant in an utterly innocent way; he wanted you to enjoy Brooklyn the way he did, and you were okay with that. But, God, you wanted it to be because he wanted to ask you out.

The chime of the bell announced your exit, and you took your time strolling past the window. You were so glad that the Second Hand had been in your periphery that day. You were gleeful at the fact that, somehow, you’d found a place to love in Brooklyn.

Bucky and the Second Hand—and Alpine—had become your thing.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagines #james buchanan barnes x reader #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #( bucky barnes. )#( fanfiction. )#Alpine uses they/them pronouns cause i don't know their gender #bucky don't flirt with customers #lemme speak to your manager #bookshop au

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glassesandswords · 3 years

Text

Ease Our Burden

Summary:

Late at night, the Survey Corps veterans head to a bar after wrapping up their year-end paperwork. What happens after a few glasses of alcohol is just plain chaos.

( When I read one of Erwin's official smartpass AUs, I wondered what kind of shenanigans the scouts pulled in the bar they headed off to after work. This is a story I've been wanting to write for so long, as drunk vets live in my mind rent free. Hope you like it.)

Originally posted in Ao3 and dedicated to @someonestolemyshoes

---

It was late at night when the wooden door of the bar creaked open, the sound of raucous laughter and footsteps spilling in. The old barkeeper looked up from his counter to see the veterans of the Survey Corps entering his almost-empty establishment, headed by their commander, Erwin Smith.

He gave a quiet nod to him. Soldiers frequented this bar often, as it was the closest to the military quarters. His eyes went towards the two Military Police soldiers sipping their beers in one corner of the room. The barkeeper had planned to close for the night after the MPs left, but now that the Scouts were here, he did not mind tending to the bar a little longer. Besides, he knew Erwin well from his cadet corps days- days that felt so long ago now.

The Scouts settled down noisily around a large round table, dragging in chairs from the other empty tables to fit them all. The barkeeper recognized quite a few of them. The loud, bespectacled brunette was Hange Zoe, someone who was poked fun of by the MPs and Garrison soldiers alike on a regular basis in the bar. She was a usual topic of gossip and trash-talk, as he had seen the customers mimicking her for some laughs, as if they were trying to talk to the captured titans in the same way that one would approach a pet.

His gaze trailed to the short man next to Erwin, the infamous Captain Levi, humanity’s strongest soldier. Rumors- fueled by drinks- always spread like wildfire around the bar, and even the barkeeper himself had heard whispers of how the captain was, earlier, a thug from the underground. As for how much truth the rumor contained, he did not know.

Captain Levi sat opposite Mike Zacharias, the tall section commander who was one of Erwin’s longest comrades in the Scouts. He could not recollect the names of the four others- two men and two women- as well, although he supposed he might have seen their faces somewhere before. After all, these soldiers were the best that humanity had to offer- for going outside the walls to face the titans and exterminating them required immense internal courage. The barkeeper could never imagine him voluntarily putting himself through such an ordeal. No, he was happy here just doing his family business.

Erwin walked over to the old barkeeper and enquired about his day with gentle familiarity. The barkeeper answered in like. He remembered the times all those years ago when he’d come over there with Nile Doc, the current commander of the Military Police, to stir up some trouble in the bar and to steal looks at the pretty barmaid- Marie was her name, he believed- during the evenings after their training.

His lips involuntarily quirked up with a smile at that memory. What a rowdy bunch they were.

“What would you and your team like tonight?” he asked Erwin.

“A glass of whiskey for me,” he said and turned back to the others. “What about you all?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” Levi replied, looking bored.

“I’ll have some simple lemonade,” the short blonde haired woman said.

“Can I get a mug of beer?” Hange piqued, “I’m in the mood for some beer today.”

“I’ll have whatever Section Commander Hange is having as well,” said the tall man who sat on Hange’s other side.

“Alright, two beers and one lemonade for Nanaba then,” Erwin said. “What about you Gelgar, Marlene and Mike?”

The other two grinned, “Mike’s going to choose for us.”

At that, Mike stood up and approached him. “May I check your collection out?” he asked politely in his deep voice, towering over the old barkeeper. The barkeeper craned his neck to look up at him and nodded timidly.

Mike hopped on the counter and crossed his legs to the other side with ease. He ran a finger through the array of glass bottles, gleaming in the soft yellow lighting of the bar. Keeping his face close to the bottles, he took a sniff now and then as he went through the assortment of liquors.

The barkeeper let him do his thing as he poured the beer and whiskey in their glasses and chopped up a lemon to make Nanaba’s lemonade.

“Ah… I’m relieved that we are finally here,” he heard Hange’s husky, drawn out voice from their table. “All that year-end paperwork sucked the soul out of me. To balance it out, let’s have some fun tonight, shall we?”

“I’m curious,” Marlene replied, “What do you have in mind?”

“We are going to get Erwin as drunk as possible. I wanna see what embarrassing stories spout out of his mouth.”

Erwin gave a small chuckle. “A brave quest. Good luck with that.”

“You don’t need to get Erwin drunk to embarrass himself,” Levi drawled. “Just place him in the midst of the younger cadets and ask him to make small talk. You’ll watch him flounder like a fish out of water.”

“There sure is a generational gap, but I’m not that old, Levi.”

“Bullshit. You scared away my entire squad that day when you tried to be friendly with them.”

“I was just trying out a change in approach rather than my usual authoritative tone. It is important to connect with the younger-”

“Right, right, I get it. But you should know you suck at that. Just keep doing what you do and you’ll be fine.”

Another smile stemmed from Erwin. “I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

The barkeeper walked over to their table with the tray of drinks in his hand, as all his waiters had left for home already. He set the glasses and mugs in front of them.

“You know what would be a great idea?” Hange’s voice filled the room again. “Let’s have a drinking contest between Moblit and Gelgar. I want to see which one of you two is the fastest to chug three mugs of beer in one go.”

“I place my bets on Gelgar,” Nanaba quipped.

“Gelgar is obviously going to win, this guy is a straight-up drunkard if I’ve ever seen one,” Marlene chuckled. Gelgar, despite his weak protests, seemed quite confident in himself and eager to take part. Moblit, on the other hand, looked resigned- like he was forcibly dragged into yet another messy situation he’d rather not be in, but had no choice but to appease his superiors by participating.

Hange put an aggressive arm around Moblit’s shoulder. “You all underestimate Moblit’s drinking capacity,” she chided, “I’d bet my life on him winning this contest.”

“You do realize his chronic alcoholism stems from your recklessness, right?” Levi asked dryly.

Hange ignored him. “Get the beers rolling!” she signaled the barkeeper with her hand. “Let’s see who downs them the fastest!”

As the others banged their fists on the wooden table yelling chug chug chug, egging the two of them on as they gulped down the mugs of foaming beer, Mike and Erwin checked out the wine selection. Even though the barkeeper was used to their shenanigans, he was still weirded out by seeing Mike sniff at each bottle and give his smirk rating. Apparently, the wider the smirk, the better the liquor.

This went on for a while till Mike’s nose finally rested on an expensive bottle of plum wine. He gave the widest smirk he could muster and nodded his shaggy head at Erwin. The commander took the bottle from him and examined it.

“What’s this one?”

“The Reeves company’s finest plum wine, sir. I’ll have to warn you that it’s very strong. And a little on the pricier side.”

A commotion from the table made them look back at Hange who let out a delighted, victorious cheer, jumping and punching her fist in the air as Nanaba and Marlene rolled their heads, moaning in disappointment. “Pay up,” Hange declared, as the other two pulled out their wallets amidst the grumbles.

“We’ll have this then,” Erwin turned towards Mike. “I’ll pay. Consider this a thank you gift from my end. You have all done so much to help me, so I wish to treat you all to something good tonight.”

Mike crossed the bar counter to the other side and slapped a broad hand on Erwin’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he said, his lips forming a smile that was way more heartfelt than one of his usual smirks. “Let’s go share this with everyone.”

There were whoops from the rest of the table as Erwin and Mike brought over the wine and uncorked it. Glasses, the barkeeper remembered, I have to take some glasses over and-

He stopped, his hand paused over the tray as he saw Mike chug down the wine straight from the bottle. Swiping the back of his palm over his mouth, he passed the bottle on to Hange, who took a deep gulp and handed it over to Levi.

The barkeeper watched in disbelief at the sheer disrespect towards the expensive wine as it got passed on to Erwin, who drank it in the same way. Apparently, he wasn’t the only flabbergasted one, as the two MPs on the other side of the room went quiet, their expressions scrunched as they watched all the veteran Scouts drink from the same bottle without a care in the world.

He did not have enough time to dwell on that, though, as Hange stalked over to the counter, looking slightly dazed. “That was good,” she said as she sat on a stool in front of him, “A little stronger than I expected, but I’m not complaining.” She rested her elbows on the countertop and leaned forward towards the barkeeper as if she were about to share a secret, her breath smelling strongly of the plum wine as she whispered, “Moblit’s birthday is coming up and I want to gift him something good. What are your recommendations?”

As the barkeeper put forth a few bottles of good liquor on the table, the door opened with a creak and an old man with salt and pepper hair entered the bar, his eyes darting outside as if to check that he wasn’t being watched by anyone. Once satisfied that he was alone, he walked into the room and sat on a stool next to Hange. One look at his wrinkle-webbed face and Hange let out a surprised sound.

“Commander Pixys?”

Pixys placed a finger on his lips. “I’m undercover,” he whispered, pointing towards his salt and pepper wig. “If Anka finds out I’m here, I’m screwed big time.”

“Don’t worry,” Hange smirked, “Your secret is safe with me.”

The barkeeper poured a glass of whiskey to Pixys as Hange sifted through the bottles, almost as meticulously as Mike did, minus the sniffing or smirking part. The old Garrison commander took this as an opportunity to strike up a conversation with the scout.

“I heard your titan experiments are yielding results,” he said over his glass, “How did you manage to capture two of them without any casualties?”

“We lured them to the walls and used spiked nets to pin them to the ground,” Hange replied cheerfully.

“As expected from the Survey Corps’ genius.”

“No, no,” Hange waved off his compliment with a light chuckle. “None of this would have been possible without Erwin’s support and Levi squad’s contribution. They did most of the work.”

“You’re too humble,” Pixys shook his head, his wig sliding down a little as he did. “You know what would be a better contribution to humanity, though?”

“Hm?”

“If you researched wine with as much passion as you have towards the titans,” he said as Hange laughed. “Just imagine the breakthroughs you’d come up with that the world can benefit from.”

“How about we combine the two of them together?” Hange proposed. “Think about it, we can make the ultimate Titan-wine!”

“Huh? How is that possible?”

“We can dig a pit outside the wall and fill it with a giant tub full of berries,” Hange went on in her half-drunk state. “Then we lure the titans to fall into the pit, resulting in them stomping the berries into pulp. Once they do the grunt work, we can dispatch Levi and Mike to kill them off. Their bodies would evaporate, leaving no trace of them on the wine. Who knows- the heat might enhance the flavour as well…”

Pixys threw his head back and laughed, patting Hange on her back.

“This is exactly why humanity needs you!”

During his thirty long years of running the bar, the barkeeper had heard many questionable conversations, but this was probably the most bizarre one of them all- considering it was one between a commander and a section commander of the military. He thanked his stars as Hange broke off the conversation after selecting the wine she needed with Pixys’ insight. Wrapping the selected bottle in brown paper, he handed it to Hange, who paid for it separately.

Once Hange left to join her comrades, the barkeeper poured another glass of whiskey for Pixys. Now that his conversation partner had left the table, he started talking to him instead.

“It’s so rare to see them having fun like that,” he said, looking wistfully at the Survey Corps, who were hooting and catcalling at Erwin as he loosened a few buttons on his collar with a lazy smile on his chiseled face. “It’s hard to maintain sanity and optimism when you see your dear friends get killed in front of you during every expedition.” He took a deep drink of his whiskey. “Maybe that’s why they are so optimistic. They decided to spend whatever limited time they have left enjoying each other’s company.”

The door opened again, the sound drowned by the chaos from the scouts table. A red-haired woman strode towards the counter in a huff, frustrated anger written all over her face.

“Found you.”

Pixys winced as his aide, Anka, grabbed him by his ear and dragged him out of the bar, paying no attention to his miserable pleas.

“At least let me finish that drink-”

“You weren’t supposed to drink in the first place! Did you really think you could hide under that stupid wig of yours? I’ve known you for years, you know, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my life changing your diapers if you end up stuck in a hospital bed.”

The door closed after them. The salt and pepper wig lay on the wooden floor, having slipped from Pixys’ bald head while he struggled against Anka’s steering grip.

The Survey Corps paid no heed to the struggle or the aftermath of the fallen wig as they were too busy goading Nanaba to dance for them.

“Alright, alright,” Nanaba gave in with a laugh, “Just a few steps, but only if some of you guys join me.”

She pulled Marlene up on her feet, while Hange needed no prompting. After downing yet another shot of whiskey, they let themselves loose, snapping their fingers and shaking their bodies to the rhythmic clicks and claps of the rest. Nanaba really was good at it, and the barkeeper did not miss Mike’s longing glance at her.

Their laughter and whoops were interrupted rather rudely by one of the MPs who stood up and glared at them.

“Tch,” he said, his face twisted in disgust at the Scouts, “Can’t have a moment of peace and quiet in here. Stupid scouts, always kicking up a ruckus wherever they go.”

The other MP, however, did not seem so wasted, considering he was tugging the drunk one’s shirt, subtly signaling him to stand down. They were in the presence of the commander and the section commanders of the Survey Corps after all.

The drunk one did not seem to care about their ranks. “Go on,” he jeered, to the now quiet table, “Drink away all our taxes. That’s all that you all are good for either way.”

“What’s your problem?” Levi growled, his sharp gaze trained on him.

The drunk MP waved a hand at them. “Y’all are the problem,” he said, his words slurring together, “To the ‘ntire society. You Scouts are a sham in the name of soldiers. The world would be a better place if you imposters got eaten by the titans y’all love so much.”

There was pin drop silence in the bar. The barkeeper felt his blood pressure rise steadily as the air thickened with tension. The drunk MP, however, did not seem to notice the predatory looks trained on him, unlike the other MP, who desperately hissed at him to shut up already.

“The Survey Corps is too grand a name for what is nothing but a funeral parade,” he went on obliviously. “All you are paid to do is to lead a bunch of stupid, starry eyes idealistic brats that join your dumb regiment to their gruesome deaths in the maws of those titans. At least that saves some resources inside the walls for sane people to live-”

His words were cut short by a strangled choke as Hange strode towards him and lifted him up by his collar.

The barkeeper rushed out of the counter to mediate the situation, but froze on his tracks when he glimpsed the absolute fury in the section commander’s eyes.

“Hange,” Erwin warned, but she paid no heed. Her stare was fixed on the MP’s wild eyes as he struggled to get out of her powerful, vice-like grip.

“Do you know why you MPs can live such comfortable lives within the walls?” she asked, her voice shaking with barely contained rage. “It’s because we, the Survey Corps, risk our lives to seek the knowledge that can give humanity a chance at survival. We are humanity’s spear- fighting in the front lines so that you can meekly settle down behind the walls with a family.”

As the MP clawed desperately at her hands, she shook him harder and flung him across the bar with a grunt. To the barkeeper’s horror, he crashed right on the table they were occupying earlier. The table upturned and the beer glasses shattered, amber liquor soaking the wooden floor.

Hange was still glaring at them as she was pulled back by the combined efforts of Moblit and Mike.

“If you can’t learn to show some gratitude towards the fallen, at least learn to shut up.”

The MPs scurried out of the bar immediately after. The sober one shoved a wad of excess cash into the barkeeper’s palms before he dragged his drunk friend from the establishment. Erwin apologized to him on Hange’s behalf and assured that he’d pay for the damages caused as the others tried to get Hange to calm down- which wasn’t working very well, as Moblit was the only one chiding her for being reckless while the others sat with a suppressed smile, smug satisfaction written clearly on their faces.

“Can't believe the gall of these MPs!” Hange ranted angrily, watching their backs as they left. “If you guys hadn't stopped me, I’d have climbed up on him and given a demonstration of how heroic Erwin looks as he rides a horse outside Wall Rose.” An overly exaggerated, determined look morphed her face as she saluted, hitting her fist to her heart with an amount of force enough to make the barkeeper flinch. “Dedicate your heart!” she declared, deepening her voice considerably, as if she were imitating the commander.

Marlene, Nanaba, Gelgar and Mike immediately responded with similar salutes and a ‘yessir’, while Erwin looked slightly red. A soft, huffing laugh caught their attention, and all eyes turned incredulously towards the source of the sound- Captain Levi.

Hange gasped loudly. “Somebody take the wine bottle away from Levi! He’s so drunk that he’s actually laughing.”

“Shut up, Four-eyes,” his signature scowl returned back to his face. “I'm a human being, not a brick wall.”

“I could easily have mistaken you for one.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sometimes, I wish I could get drunk just so that I don’t have to hear the shit that spouts out of your mouth all the time.”

“Ah, the things that some strong alcohol can do to others but not to poor Levi here. How unfortunate. But there’s a way to recreate that drunken state without alcohol, y’know? Just don’t sleep for ten days.”

“Joke’s on you, I'm an insomniac.”

“So is this your permanently drunken state?” Hange tapped on the commander’s arm, “Erwin, you should look into this. Imagine how much more powerful he would be if he got an adequate amount of sleep each night.”

“Wrong, Hange. Levi is probably this powerful because he doesn’t get any sleep.”

Hange let out a bark of laughter. “You might be right there.”

As their banter continued, Moblit approached the barkeeper. “If it’s not much of a problem, may I request a pencil and a piece of paper?” he asked.

“Sure, sir,” the barkeeper replied as he pulled out his notepad, tore a page and handed it over to him with a pencil he found lying around in the cash drawer. Moblit accepted it with thanks and made himself comfortable on one of the stools with a good view of the Scouts’ table. He started drawing, the pencil scratching on the paper as he made stroke after stroke.

The barkeeper looked on. Even if the sketch was a little shaky- probably because of the alcohol influence- there was no doubt that the man in front of him was an excellent artist. He rendered a near-perfect, dynamic portrait of the team of Scouts who were laughing over one of Erwin’s old stories. Moblit did take some artistic liberties here and there, making the Levi in the painting smile the way he did a while ago, Erwin relax with his loosened shirt collar and pleasant satisfaction gracing his face, Nanaba laugh as she looked over at Mike, and a drunk Gelgar and Marlene with droopy eyes and arms around each other, sharing a joke only they knew. Hange was, by far, the figure Moblit put the most effort into- apparent by how in-focus she looked in the portrait- with her striking dark hair, wide grin and the mischievous twinkle of her eyes behind the glasses.

“You are not drawing yourself with them?” the bartender asked.

Moblit blinked at him, as if it was something that did not occur to him before. From over the table, Hange waved, placing a palm on the side of her mouth as she called him.

“Moblit, collect your stuff, we are leaving.”

“Will be right with you, Section commander.”

He shook his head at the barkeeper, casting a fond look over at his comrades. “It’s alright,” he murmured, “I just wanted to capture this memory.” The barkeeper nodded as Erwin approached the counter to pay for the drinks as well as the shattered glasses. The rest of the Scouts got up and stretched themselves, collecting their bags and belongings from where they kept them on the floor. Once the payment was settled, Erwin thanked the barkeeper and left, the Scouts joining their commander as the door creaked open one last time.

With his final customers gone, the barkeeper counted the day’s earnings and shut down the bar for the night. As he stood outside the threshold to lock the door, his lips curled in a smile as he heard drunken singing drifting toward him from the end of the moonlit road.

Some things never change.

So ist es immer

We live under the burnt clouds

Ease our burden

Long is the night.

#drunk shenanigans #survey corps veterans edition #hange and pixys are proud to announce their new creation - titan wine #how well would your favourite alcohol fare in mike's sniff and smirk rating?#everyone's a simp for erwin #hange almost kills yet another person #shinzou wo sasageyo #inspired by so ist es immer #not really ship focused but im gonna tag all ships for the clout #lmao #levihan #eruri #erumike #mikenana #erumarie #erunile #mobuhan #eruhan

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stillebesat · 4 years

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Be My Dad

Sanders Sides: Janus, Logan A Vague AU Writing Prompt: @wildhorsewolf asked: Guess I'm a parent now with Janus being the dad and Logan being the kid Blurb: Janus has no interest in being a parental figure to a kid, but trying to convince the universe of that is another thing entirely. Fic Type: Familial Soulmate!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Mentions of Scars Taglist in Reblog.

To most souls, a food court was a necessary evil. Loud. Lots of people. But plenty of food options all together in one place. Perfect for those who liked a variety of choices or those who had picky eaters in tow.

It was a place to meet up with friends, family, or business associates. A place where one could sit back and observe society at work. To see people at their best...and most definitely at their worst.

There was something soothing about the chaos that Janus enjoyed...as a spectator. He could never imagine being right in the middle of it.

Not unless he was doing what he was doing right now. Trying to hide in plain sight in the middle of a crowd.

After all. He was thirty now. Single. Childless.

Obviously a menace to society in a universe that seemed obsessed with everyone being part of a ‘family.’

A Universe that had decreed that all adults who remained childless by the age of thirty, would then be subjected to being bombarded with children in need of a proper parent figure to bond with in their lives.

He exhaled, absently brushing against the raised scar on his cheek, barely looking up as a child burst out wailing nearby.

He’d checked earlier. That particular wailer hadn’t had the golden sparks. It meant he was safe.

For now.

He ran a hand through his hair, flipping another page in his notebook before he continued scrawling on the page. Maybe Virgil had actually been onto something when he said he was vanishing into the wilderness of Europe for the rest of his life.

Sure, Janus had laughed six months ago when his best friend had turned thirty and begun complaining about all the kids coming out of the woodwork to ask him to be their Dad.

It’d seemed impossible at the time. To have children want to come up to Mr. Shadows Incarnate and expect Virgil to put them to bed and tell a bedtime story.

Now though, he understood why Vee had become more reluctant to leave his house as the year had worn on. Because the mini spawns really had come out of nowhere once his own thirtieth birthday hit.

And it was awful.

Wherever he went, it was inevitable that some child would approach him, shimmering golden sparks floating around them indicating that they were looking for a Parent Bond.

It was also as inevitable that he would scare them away just as quickly.

After all, his halfmoon scar and creepy yellow eyes had caused plenty of kids to scream and run with a single look years before his thirtieth birthday.

No, at least Virgil had a bit of that shy emo charm that made him more approachable, even if the merest appearance of anyone under four feet had his best friend going pale as a corpse and ducking out before the kid could take more than two steps towards him.

Privately he was certain Virgil would find a kid perfect for him before the year was out, despite his best friend’s attempt to avoid the inevitable.

He knew Virge would make a good dad. Compassionate. Protective. His best friend had a dozen other traits that would benefit him when the right child flared with him.

Unlike Janus.

Who could make a grown man cry with less than four words and a glower.

No. He couldn’t imagine having any child coming to him in the middle of the night expecting comfort.

He knew he was intimidating.

He knew he could be scary.

It wouldn’t be fair to subject a child to that on a daily basis.

Honestly, it felt like a slap to the face that no matter how much he achieved, how many degrees he got, or businesses he owned, or careers he pursued, or money he made…

The universe felt that one couldn’t be complete unless said person also had a screaming, slobbering, dirty child in tow.

Janus ran a hand through his hair, again brushing the crescent scar on his cheek as he looked up long enough to watch a cluster of mothers with their dozen and a half children in strollers rush by, seeking salvation at the nearest set of golden arches with at least four of the kids already screaming for their happy meal toy.

Even if he did make a connection with any kid brave enough to approach him...Janus could never imagine trying to coerce a screaming brat into eating their chicken nuggets all by himself. Could never stand to walk around with food, slobber or worse, vomit stains on his best suits like a badge of honor. Could never be patient enough to listen to the long and rambling and pointless stories he’d heard multiple parents suffer through while observing them here in the food court.

No. There was no way Janus would allow the universe a say in how he ran these next five years of his life.

He had goals.

Life plans.

And he didn’t need some interfering Being with an obviously unhealthy parent complex ruining that.

The scrapping of a chair being pulled back broke through the gentle hum the noise the chaos of the food court had receded to, causing Janus to look up from his paper in time to see a boy, wearing a faded black long sleeved shirt with matching glasses and thankfully older than the screaming toddler throwing french fries six tables over, plop down in the seat across from him.

A child. With golden sparks shimmering in the air around him.

Oh goodie.

Janus barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. And here he’d thought that the fact that he’d caused a pair of twin girls, a baby, three boys, six preteens, and four other children under the age of five to scream in terror and/or burst into tears before the lunch rush had even started would have been enough for the universe to call it quits for the day on attempting a Parent Bond.

“I have a prospersition for you.” The boy said, making eye contact. Janus blinked, pen pausing mid stroke as he raised an eyebrow to the child. Prosper...prosper? Oh. “A prop-osition?” He asked, careful to pronounce the word correctly.

The boy nodded once, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Prop-osition” he repeated, saying it properly this time. “Will you listen to it? Please?”

Oh, now there was a please? The kid hadn’t even said hello. Janus exhaled, running a hand through his hair, again fingering the raised scar on his cheek, eyes darting about without much hope for any sign of a frantic adult looking for their wayward offspring as he sat back, tapping his pen on the table. “I’m busy.”

The boy’s eyes flashed. “No you’re not.”

Janus scoffed, gesturing to his papers. “I assure you that I a--”

“Are doing what you do every Friday. You’re not busy. You just sit here. All day. Reading. Writing.”

Observant. Janus frowned, again glancing around for a guardian figure. He didn’t think children thought much beyond eating, sleeping, and playing with their peers. “That is considered being busy by most people, I don’t have time to tal--”

The boy shifted to his knees, the golden sparks dancing around him as he carefully placed eight quarters on the table before pushing the pile over to him. “For your time.” He said, looking up to meet Jansus’s eyes once more.

Clever. Not quite the amount he usually took for a consultation, but he doubted a child could come up with that much cash. Still. It was the first time one of these golden sparked spawns of the devil decided to pay him instead of screaming bloody murder.

Janus exhaled, laying down his pen, sitting up as he clasped his fingers together, resting his chin on them. “I’m listening.” Though he doubted anything good would come from this proposition. He could already predict the direction this would go.

The boy relaxed, though he stayed half kneeling on his chair. “I need you,” his mouth twisted slightly, grey eyes glittering. “to pretend to be my Father.”

Father? Ha. Called it. “No.”

Golden sparks flared as the boy lifted his chin. “You didn’t even ask ‘Why.’”

He smirked, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach as he pushed the coins back. “I don’t need to.” It was obvious why the kid wanted to play pretend. After all, the sparks surrounding him were only visible to those like Janus. Single. Between the age of thirty and thirty-five. Childless. If the kid needed a fake dad...well this wasn’t his first rodeo with the concept. “You either need protection from some bullies, which--” He gestured to himself. “You think I look scary enough to intimidate them.” Though not scary enough to keep the kid from bugging him in the first place. “Or else you have lied to your friends about who your Dad is or what he does and so--”

“You’re wrong.”

Janus cut off, tilting his head. “Am I?” He was certain he wasn’t.

“You are.” The boy kept eye contact, grey blue eyes hard as stone.

It would be an intimidating gaze once he grew older, Janus was sure. “Enlighten me.”

The boy pushed the coins back across the table. “The Aquarium is having a Father/Son day today. I want to go.”

Not what he meant by enlighten, but he’d humor the kid. “So?”

The boy rolled his eyes, shifting to his knees so he could better rest his arms on the table. “I can’t exactly partisiis--partissee--par--”

“Participate?”

He nodded. “I can’t exactly participate if I go by myself, dummy.”

Dummy? Who just helped the kid pronounce ‘participate?’

Janus shoved the quarters back to the boy before picking up his pen, tapping it against the table. He could see the kid’s problem though. It made sense why the aquarium wouldn’t want to let hordes of little demon spawn run around tapping on the glass, licking the floors, and breaking things unsupervised. “I’m not spending fifty dollars to play your Dad, kid, just so you can look at some fish.”

A pet store would work just as well and wouldn’t cost a dime. If he was willing to go along with this.

Which he wasn’t.

He didn’t even like fish. Not since that stupid childhood fishing accident that had given him the lovely scar on his face in the first place.

No way would he willingly go along with some brat to a place filled to the brim with the creatures.

Despite how brilliant of a scheme it was. One Janus would have used himself though under different circumstances.

Though he supposed, if he felt like admitting it, which he didn’t, but he still---it….hurt in a way, that the kid, even having the sparks, just wanted to use him to get in to see some boring fish instead of trying out a real Trial with him to see if they had any sort of parental bond.

It was a stupid feeling.

He should be used to being used.

The boy adjusted his frames, barely blinking as he shoved the quarters back across the table, staring Janus down. “Adults get in for only ten dollars today. Kids get in free. If.” He emphasized the word. “Their Father brings them.” He shifted in his seat, pulling out a twenty and slid it across the table. “For your ticket.” He said simply, eyes flashing. “I’m only asking for your time. I don’t want to go on a Trial with you. I don’t need or want a Dad. I just need an adult with the time on his hands to pretend to be one and let me esplore the place for two measlely hours.”

Double ouch. At least some kids attempted to do an actual Trial Run with him to see if their sparks would Flare before being so blunt in telling him he wouldn’t be their Dad.

Janus frowned, already shaking his head. “Kid, I don’t--”

The boy pulled out another twenty, placing it on the table. “Two hours.” He said simply.

“You don’t even know me--” Sure, he knew the boy knew he was in the Trial stage of life since the stupid floating sparks thing, even if he couldn’t see his own, went both ways. But that didn’t mean that he should just shove--

The boy placed a third twenty on the table.

Janus exhaled, running a hand through his hair, again fingering his scar as he glared at the child. “You’re seriously bribing me? Where did you even get that much cash?” Hopefully it wasn’t stolen, but he’d applaud the boy for being so prolific in his thievery.

“Not important.” The boy stated, pulling out a fourth twenty without breaking eye contact.

Why was he being so persistent?! Any other child would have run away by now.

“Why me?” He demanded, leaning forward, sneering in a way he knew made his eyes look even more creepy. “Why not bribe some other--”

The boy hesitated, a fifth twenty already in his fingers as his steely gazed wavered. “If I tell you why, will you go with me to the Aquarium?”

That was hardly a fair exchange. The answer could be super simple and he’d be stuck with the kid for two hours. “I’m going to stick with my ‘I’m scary theory,’” Janus said instead, gesturing to his face. That was the usual reason kids gave in most circumstances.

The boy frowned, lifting his chin. “I can be scary enough on my own without your help.” He said shoving the sleeve of his shirt up, revealing an angry red corded scar that wrapped around his arm from wrist to shoulder. “We match, kinda. Your scar looks similar. Makes it easier to pretend that you’re my Dad. That we were in the same accident.” He pushed the pile of money towards him. “And if anyone suspects you aren’t my birth father, then the sparks will show them that we’re on a Trial and that our scars mean we’re meant to be.”

Meant to be.

It took a lot of effort to not touch the crescent mark on his cheek. To ignore the fluttering in his chest at those words.

They’re just pretty little lies.

Sure, there were ongoing theories that families all shared a similar trait that marked them. Whether that was having a mole on the same part of their stomach, sharing a taste in mustard, having an allergy to hay, hair having the same cowlick, or having similar looking scars--Janus kept his hands firmly on the table as he pulled his eyes back up to meet the kids.

It was hearsay though. Nothing had ever been proven. Not when the sparks flaring between parent and child was a far more accurate indicator that they were meant to be a family.

No, he highly doubted anyone would Flare with him during this five year tortrue period. Not even this kid despite the sparks dancing between them.

Janus took a steadying breath. It was fine. He didn’t need a family. Not even a pretend one for two hours. He was better off alone now that Virgil had harred off to who knew where. “How long do I have to wait before you run out of twenties and give up?” He said, keeping his voice cool. “Because I’m not taking your bribe, kid, regardless of the amount. You’d be better off hiring a nanny or something.”

Though he was curious just how much the boy thought it would take to convince him to go along with this farce.

The kid made a face. “I don’t want to be coddled the entire time.” He snapped, the fifth twenty vanishing as he shoved his sleeve down. “All anyone ever does is treat me like I’m breakable since--” he gestured to his arm, the scars once more hidden. “And I’m sick of it. You look like you’d happily let me fall off a bridge if I wasn’t careful and I just...I just--” He shook his head. “I need to not be cared about for a bit.”

Let him fall off a bridge? Ouch. Janus focused on relaxing his clenched hands, one finger at a time. “So you have a death wish? I’m not gonna be complacent to--”

The boy growled, slamming his hands on the table, steel grey eyes hardening even as they shimmered with unshed tears. “No. I just want to look at the fish.” He hissed. “I want to esplore. Learn. SEE. Without having a grown-up hovering over me like I’m freaking china. All you would have to do is stay near enough to keep any other metaling adults away. That’s all I want. For two hours. To be treated like a normal kid.” His hand clenched as he took a breath, bottom lip trembling. “I thought you of all people would understand that.” He whispered, eyes flickering to the scar and back.

It took a lot of effort to not touch his face. To maintain eye contact.

Sure.

He understood.

Janus had wasted years chasing that particular dream throughout high school and well into his first couple of years at college.

It had all been for nothing.

People judged the book by the cover. Few ever took the time to look deeper.

And it sucked that Janus was being forced to reckon with the fact that if he didn’t go with this kid and pretend to be his Dad, he’d be like every other adult unwilling to give the boy a chance to be ‘normal.’

…Great. Just. Great.

He’d just been guilted into spending two hours looking at the fish.

Janus broke eye contact, cursing under his breath as he shoved his papers into his book bag and stood, grabbing his jacket and hat off the chair.

Maybe he should follow Virgil’s lead and disappear into the wilderness for the next four and a half years if the kids were going to start pulling this type of act on him.

“You got a name, kid?” He asked, fishing out a single twenty from the stack before shoving the pile back at the boy. Enough for the ticket. That’s it.

The boy caught his breath, eyes going wide. “You mean--”

How could eyes hard as steel one second go so soft like freshly fallen ash the next?

You know what. He didn’t want to know. If the kid knew how to do puppy dog eyes, then he knew how. That was that, but after today Janus would not be falling for them again.

“Name.” He repeated, impatiently gesturing for the boy to follow him as he tugged his hat down over his eyes. “Else I’ll make one up and I guarantee you will not like it.”

The boy was by his side in a flash, golden sparks swirling. “Logan.” He said, adjusting his glasses with a small smile. “My name is Logan.”

#Be My Dad #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Janus #Logan #Deceit #Logic #Soulmate!AU #Familial Soulmates #Dad!Janus #Child!Logan #A Vague AU prompts

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astringofmadhousefloozies · 3 years

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Surprises

Surprises of all kinds, found after a shopping trip goes wrong. Content warning for coarse language, sexuality, threats of violence, mentions of suicide and incest, and copious amounts of headcanons.

As always, there is more in my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag, and send me a message if you liked it, I crave positive feedback.

~*~*~*~

TXT: where the fuck are you guys it's already quarter past

After a few minutes, you got a ding.

M: idia doenst want t leave something about a person see you aftr he needs freind

Oh goddammit, it's so fucking hard to get him out and about. At least Mal was with him.

You looked to Grim at your feet. "Looks like it's just us, buddy."

~*~*~*~

It was just you and Grim browsing through the dollar store, when a boy in a ratty shop apron came up to you. "Ma'am?"

You turned to him, and he coughed. "Uh, Miss. You're not supposed to have pets in the store."

Grim bristled at him. "I'm not a pet!"

Poor kid, he looked so startled. And you decided to make it worse, because yanno, why not. "How dare you refer to my son as a pet! Does he look like a pet to you?"

He looked between your face and Grim's, confusion growing. "Wh-"

"I know the resemblance isn't the strongest, but honestly! How could you say such mean things about him!"

Grim, bless him, actually caught on and decided to play along for the chaos of it. "Why are you being so mean to me? My mom works hard to keep me happy! She said I could pick out a toy today!"

The confusion had turned to anger. "That's not your kid! You're too young and he's an animal!"

Grim looked up at you, mock tears in his eyes. "I'm your kid, right? I'm not adopted like the boys at school say?" He started sniffling. "I'm not adopted, right?"

You clapped your hands over Grim's ears and glared at the now horrified shopboy. "Look what you've done! I hadn't told him yet!"

He just fled in horror, and it was all you could do to keep from laughing.

~*~*~*~

The village on the island wasn't the worst appointed. Being equidistant between two prestigious magic schools, it had a few places worth going, and after hitting up your personal favourite, you went to a small park, settled down on a bench, and started unwrapping your prizes.

You have a love for gashapon machines that bordered on a serious problem. In your biweekly trips to buy snacks and supplies to stock up your miserable, beautiful dorm, you easily fed 3000 madol (which you think was about thirty-five dollars or so at home, but couldn't be sure) into the long rows of machines in the drug store, coming out with tiny keychains, figures, and various useless but wonderful little totchkes that you kept lined up in rows in your bedroom. The joys of tiny presents! And the containers were useful too; for a creature who heavily insisted he wasn't a cat, Grim lost his shit like one every time your rolled a ball with a bell inside across the floor.

You were marveling over a tiny, perfectly realistic jellyfish on a phone strap as someone sat down heavily beside you. "Is that," they pointed to Grim poking his way around the cattails by an ornamental pond, "yours?"

"... Yes?" You turned to examine your seatmate. Charmingly strange looking, they sat impeccably robed in forest green velvet and squinted at you from behind perfectly round sunglasses. Flat-faced and thin-lipped, they reminded you of a toad, with their roundness and severe expression.

"Ah, then you are the one I am looking for. You're the pet of the prince."

"I'm a friend of his. Is that a problem?" You decided to keep opening your prizes, and pulled out a heavy ball from the bottom of your bag.

"His Highness does not have human friends."

"And yet, I am." This one, unwrapped, was the chase in the set: a tiny cauldron the size of a thimble that seemed to be actual cast iron. The chill of it was pleasant in your hand, and instead of returning it to your bag, you left it in your lap.

This presumptive stranger leaned in. "You're a diversion. A distraction from what he should be learning. Instead he plays with mortals and lets them forget their place."

"If it was so important that he didn't play with mortals, then why was he allowed to attend here?" You got a cheap set of rings on a goldtone chain in this one. Boo. You'd wanted the miniature necklace of the set for your doll. "He's very happy with the company of us all."

"Too happy. He forgets his place." The toady eyed the glittering paste gems before looking away. "Above you. Instead he crawls into your lap and serves you like a dog."

You froze. "Now, where did you get that idea?"

"We have sources." They leaned in further, smiling. A barely perceptible line of triangular teeth, sparsely placed and translucent in tone. "Foul things happen to the unwanted lovers of heirs, don't you know?"

"I am a wanted friend."

"You're a parasite who should flee."

You realized something, and turned to face your strange benchmate. "Why are you threatened by me?"

They scoffed. "Why would we be threatened by you?"

"If you weren't," you said, dropping your voice as your leaned in, "then you wouldn't be here trying to put the fear into me." They leaned back, glasses slipping off their nose. The eyes in their face were exquisite, shining gold and black speckles with a ring of gold around an oval pupil. You could help but laugh. "Pretty eyes. You really are a toad. Who sent you? The Thorn Witch? Can't be, I'm not worth her time and if I was, she'd've sent a fucking letter."

"We're a concerned party, preventing our future king from making the mistake of dealing with filth."

Well, that one pissed you off. You grabbed their wrist, feeling bumps and warts on their skin through the fabric, and pressed the tiny cauldron to the back on their hand as they started screeching.

"You," you looked them dead in their impossibly lovely eyes, "You go back where you came from, tell them I'm not a threat to whatever stupid bullshit they're worried about, and never bother us again. Or I will make you swallow this and you'll beg the precious prince you're so damned worried about to burn you alive to stop the pain."

You'd never seen anyone run so fast in your life when you let them go.

"Hey, Grim! We gotta go."

~*~*~*~

TXT: MAL SOMEONE SENT ME A TOADY SAYING I CAN'T BE AROUND YOU ANYMORE

TXT: MIGHTA BEEN YOUR GMA BUT I DON'T THINK SO

~*~*~*~

"I'm gonna kill that fucker."

"Killing them might start an international incident. If one hasn't happened already. You burnt them with iron, Yuu."

"I should have done worse! Whoever the fuck they were, that's two friends they've tried to threaten to stay away from you! That we know of!"

It turns out that the mystery toady had been the person to scare the piss out of Idia the night before. Not that they'd gotten far into their leave-the-prince-alone spiel, Idia had simply kicked them square in the stomach and fled, assuming another kidnapping attempt.

"It wouldn't have been my grandmother. In the last letter I got from her, she said it was very nice that I was making friends. She said to keep making them, even."

"She'd probably care if she knew you were sleeping with said friends." Idia was curled into the corner of his bed, and from the looks of it hadn't slept since his own encounter.

"No she wouldn't."

"You sure about that?"

You'd said that that was only going to happen once. Everyone agreed. But when all three of you settled in to play a game or watch a movie, hands moved and bodies flushed and you all seemed to find yourself tangled and gasping. And it didn't seem to require all three of you - you no longer had the strength to say no to Mal's obvious advances, and you'd walked in on your boys more than once. At least you were still friends? Really, really close friends?

"She wouldn't."

"Could they be worried about heirs?" That seemed logical. Even if no accidents were happening, they might not know that.

"That's not possible."

You raised an eyebrow. Everything worked right, and you all knew it.

Mal looked back at you. "Yuu, I hatched from an egg. I could have you both five times a day for a decade and all there would be to show for it is you couldn't walk. I cannot have children with either of you without magical intervention."

Idia made a truly impressive death rattle before mumbling something about the end of his bloodline, and you just nodded. "Makes sense."

"It's quite interesting, really, it requires numerous spells and potions, that if not kept up on, the babe will-" Malleus placed his hands together, back to back, and mimed the motion of tearing something open.

You flinched. "That's awful, goddamn."

"I have a direct ancestor who took a great deal of human women as breeding stock and simply let them be eaten from the inside out. That's what started one of the earlier human/faerie wars."

"... Wow."

"I am not proud of her."

"Can we please talk about anything else?" Idia looked ready to be sick. "I don't want to think about any of this."

"Sure, let's grab one of your doujins."

~*~*~*~

"So you're already engaged?"

"As soon as it was clear I would survive to adulthood, yes. Idia, what is this series?"

"Nyan Neko Sugar Girls. It's not that great storywise, but it has great gags." He reached over and grabbed the next one in his pile. "It's not that unusual. My mother wanted Ortho to marry my cousin Alecto when they grew up, before..."

"Before he made a lifestyle change?" That seemed the politest way to put it.

"Before she went to the criminal ward."

You shut your book with a soft thump. "What?"

"I remember the trial." Mal sighed. "Strychnine in the sugar bowl at Sunday dinner. I made sure to get the newspapers sent to the palace."

"Mother was heartbroken over it, until she realized that the wealth of that entire Shroud branch defaulted back to us." Idia shrugged. "It's sad. She was just eleven. I still send her emails."

"Idia."

"Mm?"

"Why the fuck would an eleven year old poison someone?"

"My uncle said she couldn't get a puppy until her grades went up."

"What the fuck." You'd lie down if you weren't already doing so.

"It's the curse." He sighed. "We thought she might've been from an affair? But that proved it."

"My dearest Shroud, you can't guarantee it was from the curse." Malleus turned a page. "It might have been trauma from her mother's death."

You could see more bad history incoming. "Oh no."

"Alecto was from Uncle Jo's first marriage, to my dad's cousin Alita. She had a sister, but when her mother drowned herself, she only took-"

"Is this normal for your family? Or is that just some exceptional bad luck?"

He leaned in, lamplight eyes flashing. "Out of all the Shrouds of my generation that are still capable of inheriting, I'm the most mentally sound."

Both you and Mal had to stop and really consider the implications of that.

"So, Mal. Yours isn't that closely related?"

"Fifth cousins at most when they're finally born."

You sat up. "What?"

"I'm supposed to marry the third grandchild of the Hollyoak Baron. They're a well-respected family, and of snake fae descent so little aid will be needed for conception. His eldest child is in..." He had to think about what words to use. " I believe the term is 'middle school'?"

"They really planned it that far ahead?"

Mal shrugged, the movement rolling down his whole body. "I cannot complain. It gives me a very long time to learn how to be a husband before I have to be one."

"But what if you don't like them?"

"Marriage is chiefly a contract to produce heirs. I'll learn to like them, and ideally love them."

"And if you don't?"

"I'll still treat them as kindly as I can."

"And I suppose you'd take a lover."

"Maybe. They can too, as long as all the children are mine. For legal reasons," he added.

Idia, snapping out of his thoughts, tapped Mal's shoulder. "Does the Hollyoak Baron have any friends who are toad faeries?"

It was Mal's turn to sit up. "That... He could be worried that if I have favourites at school, I'll resent my betrothed for not being either of you. Or that I would attempt to break it off entirely."

"That still doesn't tell us how he found out about..." You gestured around the room.

Idia rolled his eyes. "All that would have to happen is any one student from the Valley of Thorns writing a letter home."

"But -"

"Malleus, you're not shy in your affections. At all."

"Yes I am," he bristled.

~*~*~*~

"Mal?"

"Mmph?"

"You have to put me down. I have class."

He made a slightly different mmph and shook his head.

You tried to pat his head, but your arms were securely pinned to your sides. "I know they're fantastic, but you have to stop."

He still refused to remove his face from your chest, making a noise that could have been purring if it cane from anyone who was a proper mammal.

"Mal, we're blocking traffic."

He still wasn't putting you down, instead swaying slightly in place.

A familiar long-fingered hand with dark nails reached from behind you and tugged at Mal's lapel. "Malleus, please stop, it's ten AM and everyone is staring."

Mal finally put you down - only to switch targets, wrapping his arms around Idia's waist and pulling him flush, fixing him with such a look of besotted fondness that you immediately felt like you were intruding.

"You look beautiful today."

Idia immediately burst into a ball of pink flame.

~*~*~*~

"... Perhaps I am a bit obvious."

Idia stared up at his ceiling. "You'd be at home in my otome games."

You chimed in. "What would be obvious, in your mind?"

"Very easy. I finish the paperwork declaring you Lord and Lady of the Bedchamber and have you officially ensconced as Court of Thorns royalty, ensuring you're both taken care of for the rest of your days."

"... Finish?"

"It seemed the easiest thing to do if either of you chose to visit my homeland."

You swatted his leg. "And you didn't think to ask us first?"

Mal was starting to clue in that he had once again overreached himself. "... Surprise?"

"I'm okay with it."

You glared over at Idia. "That's not the point."

"Look, if I ever get disinherited, I have a place to go. He won't make me go outside if I don't want to. I'll bring Ortho. It'll be great."

"They don't even have dial-up over there, Idia. Lilia told me he had to get all this stuff installed to play his MMOs."

Idia pointed at Mal, easy smile turned to outrage. "How dare you try and trap me!"

It honestly seemed like Mal and Idia had switched expressions, the look of worry on his face so strange. "It's a protective measure! If you're titled, people will get in trouble if they try and remove you!"

"That's still... wait." The gears were turning in your head. "If you finish that paperwork, whoever sent Mixter Toad is going to get in so much more trouble."

Everyone went silent as they considered this.

"... As soon as I get the official permission from my grandmother. She won't like it very much, but if I explain..."

Idia turned to Mal. "You were going to make your human fucktoys official members of the Court of Thorns without telling your grandmother, the queen. Who has a notable and often justified dislike of humans."

"No?"

"Mal."

"I simply prepared ahead."

"Mal."

"I - "

"Malleus." You leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You're so goddamned stupid. Love you."

He didn't say it back with words, but you got the message loud and clear.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfiction #idia shroud #malleus draconia

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peppersonironi · 3 years

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Duke Thomas VS The "Good Child" Stereotype Chapter Three

Wooo! Chapter Two (not including the prologue) is up now for my @dukethomasbigbang fic! Today's art is by @a-sketchy-character and you can find the glorious piece HERE

thx again to my betas @queerbutstillhere & @theycallme-ook

Today has a special thanks to @batgirls-appreciation who dropped out as a beta, but this chapter couldn't exist without her!

Summary:

Duke pursed his lips, not quite sure why Cass had come down to the basement, only to look into his soul, shrug, and leave. But that didn’t matter right now. As Bruce would say, “The mission comes first.”

Read on Ao3

Duke frowned down at his empty pad of paper, trying to brainstorm. It had been a mere twelve hours since the failed Rick Roll (though, the Rick Roll itself wasn’t a fail. Duke would be daydreaming about the chaos for years to come), and the day shift bat was itching for a way to make up for it.

Alas, the creative juices were not flowing that day. Duke had tried everything - taking a walk, training, meditation, writer’s sprint, and even resorting to watching prank compilations on YouTube. But nothing worked. So, he found himself watching the target Bat - Bruce - in his “natural habitat.”

Also known as the living room, mid lecture.

“But I don’t know what I did!” Tim pleaded desperately, trying to convey to Bruce his confusion.

Bruce shook his head. “No, you do, Tim. Dick told me you all will appeal to my affection to get out of the consequences for your actions -” wow, Duke remembered Dick using that exact tactic just yesterday, and it worked - “So I will not allow you to shirk the punishment.”

Tim groaned. “This is tyranny! I’m an emancipated minor, I don’t need to deal with this.”

“Actually, yes you do. You will be doing chores for Alfred for the next two weeks, and you aren’t allowed to run off to Mount Justice.”

“Then at least tell me what I did wrong!” Tim cried, throwing his hands up in the air. Bruce rubbed his temples, then glanced briefly at Duke.

“You know what you did, and how it affected those around you. And you’re grounded because of it. No room for arguments. Now go work on the sprinklers, Alfred has mentioned they’ve been finicky.”

Tim scoffed and stalked out, soon after followed by Bruce.

Duke considered relocating as well - he couldn’t very well observe Bruce if said wild furry wasn’t present. But something about that conversation that sent a light shiver up Duke’s spine, some small spark of inspiration.

An idea began to form in his mind, and Duke smiled slowly.

*****

“For all Bruce’s waxing poetic on the merits of high tech stuff, this pipe organization is seriously ancient,” Duke muttered under his breath as he glanced from the blueprints he had secured to the mess of pipes and spigots and nozzles in front of him.

Though to be fair, this wasn’t the Batcave. Duke was in the basement of Wayne Manor - yes, he was just as surprised to find they actually had one of those that wasn’t dedicated to the dark and mystique training of Gotham’s Protectors. And impromptu Mario Kart challenges, because as Tim had once told Duke “We all know that’s the real reason Bruce got a giant computer setup.”

Duke cursed softly under his breath when he dropped a wrench that began to clang around in the messy cage of metal. He set the blueprints aside atop the gallons of paint he had chosen, and reached around and down to get the wrench. When he came back up, he found himself face to face with his sister Cassandra.

Oh shit, Duke thought, as he tried to figure out how to cover for what he was doing in the plumbing of the Manor.

Cass squinted at him and, not for the first time, Duke felt like he was an onion trapped beneath her gaze, slowly being peeled back layer by layer till the young woman before him knew every little detail about him. Every thought or plan he ever had.

Duke began to sweat, unable to keep his panic under wraps. Cass was scarier than Bruce, that was just a fact.

Cass tilted her head a fraction of an inch, and Duke thought he was a dead man. But, much to his relief and confusion, Cass shrugged and turned. She walked lightheartedly out of the basement and to the stairs, whistling tunelessly as she went.

Duke pursed his lips, not quite sure why Cass had come down to the basement, only to look into his soul, shrug, and leave.

But that didn’t matter right now. As Bruce would say, “The mission comes first.”

*****

As all members of the Wayne family knew, the Library was one of the best places, period. Aside from the living room which was always a mess of pillows, bean bags, inflatable dinosaurs, spare semi-automatic weaponry and knives, the Library was the most personal room in the expansive home that was the Manor. Sure, it was cleaner and home to fewer surprise nerf gun fights, but It still had an air of warmth about it. It was the place that they would go to to rest after a difficult patrol. Where you could find Jason reading some book in a corner, Tim busy with WE work at the large table, Damian trying to teach Alfred the Cat and Titus to read picture books, Cass and Steph trying to be subtle about making out (though to be fair that was only half the time, other times Cass was working on reading with Steph helpfully giving her guidance). Dick would always be trying to decide what to read and but he would never actually succeed, Bruce would sit in his tall armchair in the corner overlooking every small detail of his children with a not-quick-smile-but-pretty-darn-close on his face.

Duke himself also had his own spot that he would work on writing poetry, or just surf Tumblr. It was a window seat at the far side of the library which was technically big enough for three people, but Duke had a strict policy that it was his and his alone and no he totally wasn’t bullied by Cass that one time to snuggle. Why on Earth would you ever consider such a thing?

It was in this spot now that Duke was situated, though he was not alone. Titus - yes, Damian’s dog - was draped across his lap. Now, Duke didn’t mean to steal his little brother’s pets, but it just happened. Titus was in need of snuggles or belly rubs when Damian was away with Jon or on patrol at night, and Duke just happened to be the only one that said canine could bully into granting him.

Thankfully, like all bats were, Duke was a multi-tasker. He wasn’t put off by having to scratch a dog behind the ears whilst simultaneously checking the twelve blinking dots on his laptop screen that represented his family members.

Duke stared intensely at the diagram of the Manor as all the dots slowed down and finally stayed in their predetermined positions. Huh, Tim was right. Stalking family members did pay off!

The dots suddenly stopped blinking, and Duke snapped out of his self congratulations. It was go time . He switched windows, then quickly pulled out his phone and pressed a button.

There were several screams that echoed throughout the ancient halls, those screams spoke of terror and surprise, and passed along the message that something was very, very wrong in the world. The status quo had been broken, and there was no returning from this.

Duke smirked down at his computer, where a dozen different squares displayed camera footage of the real time happenings of the Manor. Said footage was showing several members of Duke’s family drenched in paint. The same paint that Duke had meticulously divided and poured into the ceiling sprinkling system that the Manor had for some totally-not-plot-related reason. The same paint which had been primed and ready to be sprayed out of the spigots coating each bat with the perfectly calculated, even layer.

The paint had just finished being deployed, and yet several people were for some reason trying to fight it off like it was an attacker. Duke noticed that the swinging of bo staffs, AK-47’s and katanas were altogether unsuccessful. Honestly, the people who were standing completely still in shock, or who were trying to shake off the paint were having much better luck.

But then everyone finally realised that they weren’t being sprayed anymore, and a collective sigh spread out across the Manor. The onslaught was done, and they could finally gather together and grab the pitchforks to hunt down the responsible party.

It was then that the glitter was deployed.

The chaos immediately multiplied tenfold, and the screams sounded up again. The air was filled with the sparkly dust that was way too thin to swat away. (No, Duke totally didn’t spend extra time researching to find the world’s finest glitter)

Duke was outright laughing at this point, so hard that he almost fell off the window seat. Titus barked suddenly, and Duke sobered enough to get back upright and watch the finishing up of the chaos. He had to admit, this felt wonderful. If he had to describe his current state of thrill in two words, he would have admitted that he felt altogether too close to the Hellmo Meme.

Unfortunately, Duke was not Stephanie, and ran out of glitter eventually. The vents stopped blasting the film of fairy dust, and the bats were given a reprieve.

Though the break was short lived, as just then, Bruce’s loud bellow sounded throughout the giant house.

“ALL OF YOU GET IN HERE!”

Duke chuckled as he scooched Titus over and set his laptop to the side so he could get up. This was all working perfectly! He’d arrive at Bruce's interrogation completely free from all paint or glitter, which would immediately prove his guilt. And if that didn’t work, then he supposed he could outright confess. But that wasn’t the point of this. The point was for Bruce to come to the conclusion on his own.

He walked down the hall, completely carefree. So happy and confident in his own abilities that he never even noticed that Cassandra’s paint or glitter didn’t go off. That she wasn’t even present where the tracker he had subtly placed on her earlier that day said she was.

*****

Duke hummed to himself as he skipped along the carpet, past the antique vases and random finger paintings, past the drawing rooms and bathrooms, and towards Bruce. All was quiet.

Though that began to trouble Duke, as he got closer to one of the rooms which was very special. It was where Cass had been situated, playing with Selina’s cat Isis, for the past hour. Now, Cassandra was quiet, sure. But not that quiet. And besides, wouldn’t the cat be screeching right about now? Cass didn’t seem like the person to give a nerve hit to an animal just because it was being loud ( cough Jason cough ).

He slowly entered the room and looked around, but was surprised to find it completely empty. Not just of girl and cat, but of paint and glitter too.

“You were mistaken.”

Duke whirled around to find Cass sitting in an armchair, wrapped in shadows, and stroking Isis in a manner not altogether different from that of an Evil Mastermind™.

“Uh…” Duke replied, “about what?”

Cass smirked, and Duke felt a shiver run up his spine. “Actions have consequences. ”

Duke frowned. Wait, what? He glanced around again, trying to figure out what Cass meant. On a surface level he understood, but there was something about the way Cass was eyeing him that told him something else was up.

The only thing he could find that was out of the ordinary, however, was the camera he had placed just yesterday. Huh, now that he thought about it, he was at just the right angle to see it. Which meant he was in direct view of the camera itself. Pretty darn to close to where he had been planning Cass would stand, actually.

Then a faint spitting noise came from above him.

Oh.

*****

Duke trudged forlornly into the room where the rest of the bats - except Cassandra, who had disappeared after the glitter had deployed onto Duke - had gathered. He was one of the last to arrive, muttering curses under his breath, so all eyes were on him as he opened the door and joined them.

Though that also meant that Duke could see them. He had to admit, that as disappointed as he was, it was still hard to keep a grin from spreading across his face. Boy, he had done a great job with color coordination, hadn’t he?

Bruce was front and center, covered in a dark gray paint which had the sheen of yellow glitter. Dick had black paint completely covering him (much more than Duke planned. Did Dick roll in the stuff?) along with blue glitter. Jason had both red paint and glitter on him. Tim had started off with a lighter colored paint - this time red - and then the look was finished by black glitter. Damian looked like a small Christmas tree in his green paint and red glitter. Harper had blue paint then covered in purple glitter, both of which were the exact shades of her hair. Duke wasn’t a monster ; he knew how to match colors.

The cousins - both honorary and actually - had also been present. Bette had been appropriately targeted with a flaming orange and gold combination. Kate had black paint and, instead of red, Duke had picked a rainbow glitter for her. From the slight glint in her eye, Duke supposed he had chosen correctly. Jean-Paul had been doused in yellow paint and red glitter, and he honestly looked like a very large and human shaped version of his sword. Luke was covered in silver paint and an electric blue glitter.

Bruce, however, didn’t give Duke a second glance, covered in yellow paint and black glitter (which had been meant for Cass, but honestly, it fit Duke quite well), though he was.

“Good, now we just have to wait for Steph,” Tim remarked, rolling his eyes.

Duke frowned. “What about Cass? She’s here too.”

Everyone gave Duke a weird look. “Uh, no she isn’t. She’s been hanging out with Selina and Babs all weekend.”

“Then your intel is wrong,” Duke countered. “She was just here! I planned on her being here!”

The silence in the room was palpable. Before, where there had been bickering and accusations, the quiet had taken over. Everyone stared at Duke with suspicion in their eyes.

Finally, Duke thought, sighing in relief.

Bruce opened his mouth about to question Duke’s statement when the doors to the room banged open.

“What’s up, Bitches? The Waffle Queen has arrived and looks as fabulous as ever!”

Duke stared, completely amazed that she actually seemed to like the purple on purple combo Duke had picked for her. Oh, yeah, now that he thought about it made perfect sense that Steph was the only one to like this.

“Wow, whoever did this really got my colors right!" Steph continued as she waltzed in and posed in front of everyone, her hip cocked and arm thrown up dramatically.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed, and he began to growl at her. “This is not funny.”

Steph pouted. “What do you mean? I sure think it is!”

Oh boy, she didn’t notice she was digging her own grave, did she? From the looks of the other bats, they shared Duke’s sentiment.

“Stephanie Brown, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Stephanie smirked. “Yup! I look way better than you, you old fur- hey wait! Are you blaming me ?!”

Bruce glared even harder, and Stephanie started to protest, claiming that she was but an innocent victim of these pain-filled proceedings! It was not her fault! Nor was it her fault that she happened to get colors that she liked better than everyone else.

Bruce refused to hear what she said, and told her to go get changed. “You will be cleaning up this whole mess, and no patrolling until it’s done.”

Bruce turned and stalked out, and Steph was left speechless - for once - in the hall. She backed away, seeing the angry stares from the others. The only one who didn’t seem mad at her, was Duke himself. He opened his eyes wide, conveying pity. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed silently.

Instead of being reassuring, however, Steph squinted in suspicion. Oh shit, that probably hadn’t been the best move.

Just moments after Steph left, Jason threw up his hands. “Okay, who wants to have a water gun fight to clean off?”

There were several cheers of assent, but Duke quickly made his own escape at that time. He honestly wasn’t in the mood to get splashed in the face with water. Now was not the time for fun, as the failed prank still hung over him.

Now was the time for plotting.

*****

“Okay, but why on earth do you have a fully functioning sprinkler system in every room?”

“Yeah, Bruce, even for you that’s paranoid! What caused you to think that was necessary?”

“You.”

#duke thomas #duke thomas big bang #batfam #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #bruce wayne #dtbb21 #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #kate kane #jean paul valley #luke fox #bette kane

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fallen420 · 3 years

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Rebel Spy - Chapter 12: The Trio

After all the chaos that happened with the ice planet, the frog lady, the baby eating her eggs, landing the practically destroyed crest, reuniting the frog lady with her husband, we finally seem to catch a break. These Quarrens know where other Mandalorians are and agreed to take us to them on their boat.

The baby's pod floats in between me and Din as we look out onto the ocean breathing in the salty air.

“You ever see a mamacore eat?” A Quarren says to us, “Quite a sight.” When neither of us responds the Quarren speaks again,” Child might take an interest. You should take a look. Come on over here.”

We follow the Quarren to the middle of the ship where there's a huge hole covered by a cage. We stand at the edge of it and we watch as the Quarren open the cage and drop fish inside. The Quarren is talking some more but I don’t listen.

I watch as the water begins to bubble and before either of us can react the Quarren pushed the baby's pod into the water right above the mamacore.

“No!” Din and I yell at the same time. Next thing I know I’m also being pushed in.

I hold my breath as I try to look around but it's no use in the murky water. I hear a splash and I know it's Din jumping in after us.

Din and I swim up to the top, grabbing onto the bars, coughing as we attempt to catch our breaths. The Quarrens above us hit our hands making us let go of the bars.

I take a deep breath and I sink back down once more. Din seems to be having more trouble than me as he goes back up for air sooner.

Once the burning in my lungs becomes too much I go back up with Din just in time to see a blue Mandalorian land and attack the Quarrens. Din continues to cough as we see two more Mandalorians land helping the first one.

I only get a glimpse of the first ones helmet but I immediately remember that day the first and only time I ever met her before today.

The cage opens again and I grab onto the edge holding myself up. Bo kneels down in front of the water and puts her hand out in front of me. I shake my head, “Him first.” She puts her hand out in front of Din and he takes it, “Theres a creature,” I say through ragged breaths, “Has my kid.”

As one Mandalorian helps me out the other jumps in to get the kid. Bo sits Din and the Mandalorian sits me next to him. “The Child help the child,” Din begs Bo, his voice strained from all the coughing.

“Don’t worry brother. We’ve got this.”

Din places a hand on my thigh and squeezes as we both try to catch our breaths.

After a few agonizing moments, the Mandalorian jumps out with the pod in her hands. She kneels down next to us and rips off the lid of his pod.

She takes him out and hands him to me. I make sure he's alright and I hold him close to my side. Din reaches over to brush his ear before looking back at the Mandalorians, “Thank you. I’ve been searching for more of our kind.”

“Well, lucky we found you first,” Bo says.

“We’ve been quested to deliver this child I was hoping that…” Din stops speaking when they take off their helmets

Oh no

Din stands up getting in defensive mode, “Where did you get that armor?”

“This armor has been in my family for three generations.”

“You do not cover your face. You are not Mandalorian.”

“Mando,” I say, stepping closer to him, “This is Bo-Katan, she was the leader of Mandalore. Last I knew of at least.” I know he's wondering how I know her but he decides to ask later.

“He's one of them,” the man says

“One of what?” Din asks.

“She's right, I’m of clan Kryze. I was born in Mandalore. I fought in the Purge. I am the last of my line. And you are a Child of the Watch.”

“The Watch?”

“Children of the Watch are a cult of religious zealots that broke away from Mandalorian society/ Their goal was to re-establish the ancient way.”

“There is only one way. The way of the Mandalore.”

Din walks over to the edge of the boat before I follow I whisper, “I’m sorry,” to Bo.

Din grabs on to me tightly, he turns on the jetpack, and we fly away.

“What do you mean it makes sense?!” Din practically runs ahead of me with the baby in his hands. We walk through the doc trying to get back to our ship. It's dark and both of us are very irritable after the past few horrible days we’ve been having.

“I mean it makes sense.”

“Would you care to explain?” he stops walking and turns around.

“I told you I knew another Mandalorian for some time. She had her helmet off most of the time. When I met you I figured you had older views.” He just huffs and turns around, “Just because your way is different than theirs doesn’t make you or them any less of a Mandalorian.”

“How is it that you know everybody?” He decides to take this argument in a different direction.

“You meet a lot of important people when you fight in a rebellion,” but that answer isn't good enough for him, “Look for a while I hung out with a crew and we went on a mission to save one of the members' fathers. Bo came in as reinforcements that's all.”

He turns around and keeps walking, “Look I can’t imagine what it's to know that something you’ve been told your entire life is not the complete truth. I’ll never know. But aren't you slightly open to the idea that there's another way?”

If he was planning on responding he doesn’t get to because Quarren comes out of the dark corner. “Hey!”

“Oh come on,” I whisper angrily at the fact that we have to deal with yet another problem.

The Quarren steps closer to us, “You killed my brother.” More Quarrens come out of the darkness.

“Let us pass,” Din says.

“I don't think you understand.” Din and I both notice the Quarren charging their weapons, “You killed my brother. And now I’m going to kill your pet.” My hand hovers above my blaster as he gets closer to us.

Luckily, Bo and the others come down to help us.

“They didn’t kill your brother,” Bo says, “I did.” Bo shoots and we all take that as a queue to shot the rest. Which we do. In just a few seconds all the Quarren are dead.

“Can we at least buy you a drink?” Bo asks.

“Please.” Is all I say before walking towards the nearest Cantina.

“Trask is a black market port,” Bo says. We all sit around at a table. The baby sits in between me and Bo. Dins hand finds my thigh again probably his way of apologizing for snapping at me earlier. “They’re staging weapons that have been bought and sold with the plunders of our planet. We’re seizing those weapons and using them to retake our homeworld. Once we do that we’ll seat a new Mandalore on the throne.”

“That planet is cursed. Anyone who goes there dies. Once the Empire knew they couldn’t control it, they made sure no one else could either.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear. They wanna separate us. Mandalorians are stronger together.”

“That's not apart of our plan. I’ve been requested to take this child to the Jedi.”

“What do you know of the Jedi?”

“Nothing. Only what Auroras told me.”

“We were also hoping you could help,” I say, “I lost all contact with the ones I knew.”

“I can lead you to one of their kind, but first we need your help on our mission.”

Why is there always a mission?

“You see that Imperial Gozanti freighter?” Bo asks us. We stand on a broken ship in a junkyard of some type, looking at the freighter that is sitting on a doc, “It's being loaded with weapons as we speak. “According to the ports manifest, its scheduled to depart at first light.”

They explain how they scan for life forms before taking off which means that we have to fly up there once it takes off.

After discussing the plan Din and I drop the kid off with the frog lady where he will be safe. Both of us make sure to tell him not to eat any more of her eggs.

Before Din and I can even land, Bo and Koska take out the stormtroopers guarding the doors to the ship.

Axe uses a splicer to open the door. When it opens Bo runs inside killing the three stormtroopers that were waiting for us. The rest of us follow in behind her. Din and I stay further back and I’m slightly behind him since I don’t have beskar protecting me.

In front of us, doors open revealing more stormtroopers. We use the sides to take cover. Each of us shoots at the troopers as we slowly inch forward.

Lucky for us troopers have bad aim and we don’t so we take them out easily. We walk over the troopers' bodies and we carry on onto the next room.

We take an elevator into the cargo bay where the weapons are. Again we are met by stormtroopers. We take out the troopers in the hall but before we can enter the cargo bay the doors closed.

Without saying anything I walk over to the panels in front of us. I press a few buttons and the screaming confirms that the doors to the cargo bay opened making all the imps in there fly out.

I close the doors and I open the ones in front of us so we can get the weapons.

The Mandalorians start opening the boxes and admire all the weapons.

Bo talks on the comlink to one of the imperial officers "Oh, We’re not jettisoning anything. We’re taking the entire ship.”

“Huh?” I say in confusion.

“What?” Din also questions.

“Put some tea on we’ll be up in a minute,” She puts the comlink down and Din and I walk up to her.

“Bo, this is more than we signed up for,” I tell her.

“There is something I need to rule Mandalore. Something that was once mine. You were there when I first go it, Aurora.”

“You lost the darksaber?”

“I was stolen from me,” she says defensively, “Look they know where it is. Regardless, we are taking the ship for the battles ahead.

“I got you your weapons,” Din says, “We have to return to our ship with the foundling.”

“If you want my help finding the Jedi, you will help me take this ship.”

“You’re changing the terms of the deal.”

“This is the way,” she says almost mockingly.

She walks out and the other two follow leaving me and Din alone.

“The faster we do this, the sooner we can be back on the crest with the kid.” He just nods his head before following the others.

We start to make our way towards the front of the ship where the cockpit is. The ship moves suddenly and we all fall to the sides. Din grabs my hand as we hold on to the walls. The pilot is taking the ship down to try and get us off of here.

“Let's move!” Bo says. Din lets go of my hands and we both pull out our blasters, “There’s the bridge. Come on!”

There are more stormtroopers waiting for us and we take cover on either side of the doors.

“How many troopers?” Bo asks.

“Sit to ten. Two with heavy repeating blasters,” Axe answers her.

“We need to move now.”

“They have too much firepower!”

“Were still dropping,” Koska reminds us.

Din puts his hand in mine and he squeezes which means he's about to do something stupid. He lets go and he takes two charges out of his utility belt, “Be careful.” I tell him and he nods.

“Cover me!” Is all he says before running out into the trooper's blasts. All of the blasts bounce off his armor. I see him lay down before throwing the chargers where the stormtroopers stand.

I cover my face as fire and smoke begin to fill the area. Once it clears we run out and Din is already standing up, running towards the cockpit not giving me the chance to even ask if he's okay.

We open the door to the cockpit. Din grabs the pilot and throws him out of the chair. Din sits on the pilot's seat while I sit in the co-pilots.

We both grab on to the control wheels in front of us. Both of us pull up trying our hardest to stop this ship from plummeting into the ocean.

“Easy, easy,” Din says his voice strained from using all his strength to get this ship up

After a few moments of pulling up, we feel the ship start to go up in the air again. We both let go and start to catch our breaths.

“No!” Bo yells and as we turn around the imperial officer is on the ground.

“Look we have to go, he sent a distress signal,” I tell her.

Din and I stand up and Koska takes his spot.

“Are you sure you won’t join us?” Bo asks.

“There’s something I need to do,” Din says.

“The offer stands if you change your mind.”

“Where can we find the Jedi?” I ask her.

“Take the foundling to the city of Calodan on the forest plant of Corvus. There you will find Ahsoka Tano. Tell her you were sent by Bo-Katan. And thank you. The both of you. Your bravery will not be forgotten. This is the way.”

“This is the way,” Din repeats.

We get the kid back from the frog lady and her husband. We finally sit on the falling apart razor crest the kid seated in my lab as Din starts the ship.

Once he gets the ship in the air I ask, “Are you good?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he doesn’t turn around to face me like he normally would.

“I mean with everything Bo said. Don't you wanna talk about it?”

“There's nothing to talk about Aurora.”

“Right, it’s always nothing isn’t it.”

#Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x oc #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x oc #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x oc #bo katan kryze #bo katan #baby yoda #agent whiskey #Frankie Morales #oberyn martell x reader #agent whiskey x reader #pero tovar #dave york

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 106

I know I’ve been on a fluff kick lately, and I’m not even remotely sorry. This chapter started out as an excuse to re-visit an offhand comment from a previous chapter, and ended up with Sophia having the kind of night off I wish I could have.

Thanks go out to @baelpenrose (beta and also creator of our favorite teacher-cum-warlord-cum-teacher), @charlylimph-blog (because no one else could have created the ball of chaotic friendliness that is Charly, nor her strong, silent, and charming partner), @werewolf2578 (because I will never not love Maverick), and @creakingcryptid (for donating faerself and Antoine early on to the cause, and putting up with me in real life. This entire story, from chapter 1, would never have happened if not for faer, and I’m not even remotely exaggerating about that).

“Lift the right corner a bit more,” Tyche called out. “Yeah - Dammit, Arthur, that’s too high. Bring it down a bit more.”

“Do you want to swap?” he quipped, dropping his side of the large, white sheet to exactly where it had been before.

Ignoring him, Tyche asked Maverick to lower his corner instead, to much greater success. At least satisfied with the results, she turned to me and made a ‘ta-da’ gesture towards their work.

I shook my head at her. “And we need this why?”

“Movie night,” she reminded me needlessly.

“Eyeah. It was kind of my idea.”

“And none of us have been to a proper movie theater in ages.” She had a point there.

“Do we even have a projector?” Maverick asked, grinning, as he walked up.

Arthur, right behind him, grinned almost malevolently before Tyche cut him off with a glare. “I told Charly we were doing a movie night,” she offered by way of explanation.

“She insisted she had popcorn covered,” Arthur ventured carefully. “Do I even want to know?”

Eyes wide, I turned to him. “She didn’t tell you?”

He shook his head. “I asked what that meant, and all I got out of her was a maniacal laugh. By any chance, does she always carry around a cartoon-villain moustache in case she needs to twirl it?”

“And cat ears, yeah,” I confirmed absently. “She really didn’t tell you?”

“I just asked if she got the consoles to actually make popcorn that wasn’t better used as packing material,” he admitted.

Maverick erupted in laughter. “You are in for a treat.”

“Will it poison me?”

“Doubtful,” Tyche shrugged regretfully.

“Hmm. Pity.”

Trying to get somewhat back on topic, I pressed on about the projector. “So, you told Charly we were doing movie night this week, so she is going to… obtain? Steal? Jury-rig a projector?”

“I try not to ask, unlike some people,” Tyche arched an eyebrow defiantly. “Gift horses, mouths, you get it.”

“I doubt she’s stealing one,” Maverick offered. “She’s an engineer. Pretty sure she already had one she made, or is finishing one up as we speak.”

Fair. “What movie did we end up agreeing on?”

Maverick and Arthur answered in unison. “Star Wars.”

“Nuh uh. Nope,” my sister argued. “Repo! The Genetic Opera.”

“I’m with her,” I jerked my finger toward the person not insisting I watch a movie about a war in space while actually on a spaceship.

We continued arguing good-naturedly while getting non-popcorn snacks and drinks together. Arthur, to no small amount of surprise, was putting a very impressive amount of thought and consideration into the arrangement of blankets and pillows on every conceivable seating surface in my living room - some of which I didn’t even recognize and probably didn’t want to know where he got them. At some point, Derek and Sam arrived, judging by the latter sitting happily next to a moving lump in Arthur’s careful construction and petting my cat.

About the time snacks were ready to be carried into the living room, the door opened to reveal Conor, who abruptly stopped to remove his work boots. Unfortunately, he was knocked down by a clattering intruder behind him and saved only by the - no joke - knee deep ocean of bedding. A hinged brass lid and a metal piece of something went flying past his head, revealing the intruder to be Charly. “Hi, guys!” she waved cheerfully. “Don’t worry. Coffey has the projector.”

White teeth flashed in a dark, handsome face as the man in question held up the device. “Her hands were full,” he shrugged before glancing past Conor. “You take movie nights seriously,” he added with an approving nod.

Charly, who I couldn’t remember having even seen wear shoes, had already scrambled over Conor’s laughing form so that she could grab the lid and basket, which she brought along with the enormous pot into my kitchen area. “Popcorn,” she declared, gently slamming the pot on a heating surface. “As promised. I’m thinking green today.”

“That’s not popcorn,” Arthur pointed out, curiosity etched into every bit of his face.

“Duh, Mr. Farro,” she sputtered. “It’s how we’re going to get popcorn. The consoles never season it, and it’s always stale, or soggy, or just… not good. So. I made a whirlypop.” With a clatter, she patted her copper contraption. “It makes absolutely perfect kettle corn, every time. And I can make it whatever color I want, too.”

“It’s really good popcorn,” I confirmed. “She brought some to your fight with Jokul.”

“Of course she did,” he sighed. “I thought you said no selling tickets and no concession stand for that?”

“Doesn’t mean she can’t bring her own, screaming blue popcorn with her,” I held up both hands in surrender. “I couldn’t argue with the logic, and she was the only person there with popcorn, can confirm.”

When I glanced back at her, I saw what I pretty much expected to see: her handy cartoon-villain moustache was pasted firmly on her face and she was twirling one end in what could only be described as a dastardly fashion. Arthur, on the other hand, was almost sputtering. “I - how? I was facing you, Charly. How?”

“Don’t ask, you probably don’t want to know,” I sighed with a wave of my hand. “Besides, I’m reasonably certain the answer involves a collective hallucination, blood sacrifice, or time travel.”

“Two out of three,” Charly nodded, sounding impressed but not clarifying any further. “So! Everyone ready for- oo! Mini pizzas! - popcorn and Master and Commander?” A collective groan went up at a third movie being added to our ongoing argument over what we had agreed to watch. “What!? It’s my favorite!”

Maverick explained the conversation we had earlier to those who arrived after. Even having nine people voting now didn’t help: we were still split evenly across all three movies. In the end, we agreed to take a run at watching all three, but that led to another discussion - what order? We knew the odds of getting through all three were slim, and nobody wanted theirs to be left out.

Sam finally interrupted us. “If we don’t stay awake through all three, can we watch the last movie on another night?”

My jaw clicked shut mid-argument. Tyche tilted her head, “That makes entirely too much sense.”

With that anticlimactic resolution, we quickly took votes to determine which movies were most popular. In the end, we ended up with Star Wars first, Master and Commander second, and Repo! last, much to my and Tyche’s chagrin. At least we weren’t the only ones who voted for it, so I was mollified. Somewhat.

While we were hashing all that out, Charly somehow called upon the popcorn deities and managed to fill nearly every bowl and bucket she could find in my quarters with a rainbow of fluffy kernels. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t figure how she managed to make that much in roughly fifteen minutes, and when I asked, the only answer I could manage to get from her was “Two out of three, like I said.”

I wasn’t asking after that, because I wasn’t sure I wanted to know if blood magic was involved, honestly.

Antoine arrived right as I was trying to figure out how to fit on the couch, where Maverick and Conor were cuddling and hogging the whole damned thing. Unfortunately, between the immense quantities of popcorn, blankets, pillows, and people strewn everywhere - and somehow my Christmas lights were carefully hanging from the ceiling, which I had a sneaking suspicion was Derek’s doing - our poor resident therapist looked a bit confused.

I couldn’t help but grin as I waved at the chaos. “Welcome to movie night, apparently. You can sit anywhere except there,” I explained, gesturing at a particular pile of blankets.

“Why not - ah….” he trailed off in understanding as a hand darted out of the ‘pile’ to snag a mini pizza.

“Eyeah, only Mac can sit there, I think. And nobody better be feeding him pizza?” I warned. “Whoever does gets to keep stinky cat for the night while he has tummy trouble.” Turning back toward the couch, I stuck my lip out in a pout. “Where am I supposed to sit?”

“We’re comfy….” Conor whined, hiding what was probably a grin behind Maverick’s head. Rather than sitting up in any capacity, the two were laying down along the entire length of the couch, both their feet sticking off. There was maybe two inches of couch between them and the edge.

While my attention was focused on my boyfriends, two strong hands grabbed each of my arms and tugged me down. With a yelp, I fell across Charly and my sister, both of them giggling. Deliberately, Charly started to pet my hair as clumsily as humanly possible, and the scowl I directed at her set Tyche off in hysterics. When I opened my mouth to protest, popcorn was thrown in. With another scowl, I surrendered to being draped across both of their laps, with a fluffy blanket spread over me from somewhere.

I still sulked, and ignored that I probably looked like a particularly perturbed cat. With much determination, I managed to keep a scowl on my face until the first movie started rolling. It was hard to stay even faux-upset after that, as what ensued was the most laid back night I had enjoyed in longer than I could remember. Seats were stolen every time someone got up for any reason, snacks were eaten and refilled, popcorn got everywhere….

It. Was. Glorious.

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#the miys #science fiction #humans are weird #found family #found family tropes #humans are space orcs #fiction #original fiction #earth is space australia #hfy #humans are space fae #humans baffle aliens #humans are crazy #movies #cuddles #popcorn

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2-cute-4-school · 4 years

Text

Hiraeth

Group : NCT

Pairing : Lee Donghyuck/Haechan x f!Reader

Genre : fluff, angst

Word count : 4K words - Part 1

Mafia AU | M.list

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 - Final

Chapter summary : “Y/N please tell me you’ll always love me.” | “You know I do. I love you and I’ll keep loving you no matter what.”

“Hiraeth - (n) a homesickness for a home you can’t return to, or that never was.”

Haechan was always by her side, her guardian angel and her partner in crime at the same time. Sure, he wasn’t ecstatic about having a little girl around them at all times in the beginning, but Taeyong was their leader and what he said had to be done. He remembered the day he met her so clearly, a lasting impression on him.

Taeyong had told them beforehand that a new member was going to arrive, but none of them ever expected her. Their squad was made up of only boys so seeing a frail girl trailing behind their leader left them shocked and frozen in their spots. Her eyes were wide, scanning her new surroundings and future teammates while tightly griping Taeyong’s shirt until her knuckles turned white. She tried to put on a brave face, but anyone with a decent sight could see that she was trembling like a leaf.

He later learned her name, Y/N and that she was training for the spy position. Same as Haechan. They seemed to be around the same age but he still felt a strong need to protect her, shield her from any harm. She looked so small that day, meeting the other members who swarmed her as soon as she peeked out from behind their leader. The way her face broke into a grin as she found out she would be training alongside Haechan as spies broke his hard exterior and made him decide he would take her under his wing.

And now, years later, Y/N became the light in the endless night, a breath of fresh air after drowning in the fast waters of a rushing river, although neither Haechan nor the rest of the boys would ever tell her that. But it could be seen in the way they looked at her, drops of honey and stardust swimming in their eyes whenever they caught sight of her or in the relieved exhale of air whenever she hugged them, her warmth enveloping them like a comfort blanket. It was the subtle hints that showed their love for her and the other way around.

“Y/N, I’m going to murder you!”

“Taeyong told me to wake you up, why are you such a bitter bitch?”

“I’m not the bitch here, dear”

“Is it because of old age, Doyoung? I know old people can get easily irritated, but damn gurl, you’re on another level”

A vein popped at Doyoung’s temple and he deeply breathed in, trying to keep his composure before he went nuts and burned down the entire household.

“Y/N, I’ll give you three seconds to vanish from before my eyes”

And she didn’t need more as she zoomed past the rest of them, her giggles echoing around the hallways.

“This is what I get out of raising children” Doyoung sighed before plopping down on the couch beside the younger ones.

To be honest, Haechan wanted to murder both of them. As much as he liked making fun of his members, being dragged out of his room for an unknown reason wasn’t on his to-do list today. He simply wanted to play some video games with his roommate Johnny and Y/N, maybe eradicate their self-confidence when it came to survival games with his unmatched skills. What he didn’t want right now was petty bickering, even though it’s usually his forte.

His train of thoughts was interrupted by the slam of the front door. Taeyong stormed inside, draping his coat and leaving his shoes by the door. His hair seemed messy and his movements were quite tense, very unlike for him.

“Are all of you here?”

No greetings, no smile. Something was going on.

Y/N trudged back in the living room with Yuta in tow, hearing the ruckus created by Taeyong’s hurried entrance. She sat down on the arm of the couch, beside Mark. Haechan took a moment to look at her. Her eyes turned serious, no glint of mischief in them anymore, her lips set in a straight line. Haechan gulped before turning his eyes back to their leader.

“Yes, what’s going on, Taeyong?” Taeil voiced out all of their thoughts. He also seemed tense, it was very weird that Taeyong hadn’t told him anything beforehand.

“I know none of you will like this, but we have a new mission”

Everyone looked at each other. Missions weren’t anything new and it’s been quite some time since the last time they all went on one so they didn’t understand Taeyong’s worry.

“Alright, so? Things were starting to get boring anyway, so I don’t think anyone minds. What’s the job?” Johnny seemed even more content than the others at the mention of a mission

“Park Ji-won and his goons are having a party. All rich and influential people are invited. They’re probably trying to make connections with powerful people, maybe get them involved in their business. Wendy said he’ll have a USB flash drive with him. It contains future plans and reports of his actions if we get our hands on that he’s done for. Unfortunately, we’re not sure where it will be exactly. He probably won’t have it on him, it would be too risky, but other than that it could be anywhere in the house although his office seems most likely.”

Park Ji-won, the leader of one of the most powerful gangs in the country, a master of assassinations and other dirty deals and NCT’s biggest threat. He hunted them down with every chance he got and killed any allies of Taeyong’s he could. Everyone knew it would be a hard mission.

Johnny was the first one to break the silence.

“We can handle this, we’ve handled worse”

Taeyong bit his lip, anxiety showing on his face.

“The mission is tomorrow evening”

Silence. And then chaos. Questions and remarks were flying everywhere, most members in shock before Taeil shushed everyone. He looked Taeyong in the eyes, his glare ice cold.

“Do we have a plan already?”

Taeyong sighed before answering.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Y/N and Haechan will go in dressed up, blend in with the crowd. The hackers will stay here and monitor everything with some of us. The rest will wait in cars scattered near the party. I’ll fill in our spies with some info about the people there and come up with an inside plan, but that’s all”

Haechan’s hands started to sweat and his breathing became irregular. His mind was running wild and he seemed restless. His heart seemed to climb up his throat and jump out any minute. Haechan knew what this meant.

“Taeyong, this is too rushed and you know Ji-won isn’t a man to mess with” Taeil tried reasoning calmly.

“We’ll have to, this is a one time chance”

“BULLSHIT!” Johnny exploded. His excitement from earlier seemed to turn into anger at the announcement of the time of their mission “This is bullshit and you know it, Taeyong! What you’re doing is sending us, sending them” he gestured wildly to the couch where Y/N and Haechan were seated with wide eyes “on a suicide mission.”

“No, I’m not. We have a plan, as long as we don’t stray from it we’ll be fine”

Johnny was seething. He gritted his teeth, barely containing himself from exploding. Anyone could see his clenched fists by his side.

“I’ll shove this poor excuse of a plan so far up your ass it will reach your brain and unclog this shitty mindset of yours, I swear to God-”

“Let’s stop this, please” Y/N voice was weak, any smaller and no one would have heard her. She was looking at her elders fighting with a sore expression on her face “If we have to do this, let’s at least try to come up with something better, this is no usual mission.”

Taeil sighed as he gently pushed Johnny back.

“She’s right, you’re acting like clowns, did the hair dye fry through your scalp and to you neurons?’”

His words seemed to cool down the room, but burn Haechan’s heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was in the early hours of the morning when they finally settled. Although their plan didn’t stray too much from the original one, details were added and the spies knew perfectly what they had to do. Things were still riskier than ever and tension was high in the air of the dorm.

Y/N stayed close to Haechan the entire time, his presence calming her down. As long as he was there beside her, she felt as if nothing could touch them, neither one would allow it. Over the years, their bond that first started as a simple partnership soon developed into what they liked to call a soulmate bond. They could understand each other without words and trust tied them together tighter than anything else.

“You should head to bed, bub. You need all the rest you can get.” A warm hand petted her hair, as she lifted her head to meet Johnny’s eyes. He could see the unspoken anxiety behind her fatigued orbs and he wanted nothing more but to wrap her in a fluffy blanket and protect her forever. But everyone knew it would never be possible.

Y/N tried to offer a smile, but it was weak and it didn’t meet her eyes. She was clearly feeling oddly off about their mission too.

“Right, goodnight then.” She lifted herself off from the armrest of the couch and began trudging back into her room, which she shared with Haechan. Said boy didn’t waste another second before following her.

“And kids?” Johnny waited a second until they both turned their heads towards him “Don’t worry too much, we won’t let anything happen to you.”

He smiled kindly, showing his fatherly side which surfaced only around them and it was enough to get Y/N to smile, even in the slightest while muttering a broken ‘thank you’ before continuing her short walk to the bedroom.

Haechan instead lingered a few more moments, eyes shining as he stared at Johnny’s retreating back. He shook his head as if snapping himself out of a trance and rushed to catch up to Y/N, who was already fluffing up her pillows to settle down.

As she finally stretched herself out on her mattress, Haechan hesitated nervously near her. His bed looked cold and lonely and right then, his mind wouldn’t have been able to achieve peace without the help of his lifeline. His soul was too agitated and his heart was beating erratically, almost shattering his rib cage to escape its dark prison and find itself into the warm hands of their real owner, the girl whose eyes would disgrace all the stars in the sky.

“Are you going to fall asleep while standing or do you plan on joining me?”

She could read him like an open book. Through just a few words, Y/N could rip his thoughts out of his fuzzy mind and present them on his sleeve.

Haechan said nothing as he dragged his feet over to her bed and plopped down beside her. Without a second thought, he wrapped her in a protective cocoon of his arms, trapping her against his chest. He worried for a second. What if she could hear his heart? What explanation would he have for the way it betrayed him and threatened to simply jump out at her mere presence? That he was more afraid of losing her than losing anything else in the world? That he wanted to end his own pathetic self at the thought of the next day? That losing her meant his end, the edge of his sanity that he would throw out the window?

“I’m scared.”

It was only the second time he ever heard these words coming out of her mouth. The first time was on her first mission when he had to hold her hand all the way to the house they had to infiltrate in, just to keep her grounded. But that was such a long time ago when she had no experience in the field and her innocence was still intact. So hearing her say these words now unsettled him greatly.

“Why?”

“Is that even a question?”

“We’ve been on countless missions before, we’ll be fine.”

“No, no we haven’t. Not on one like this.”

“Y/N, as long as we stick to the plan, nothing will be different.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Neither did we before any of the past missions.”

She went silent. Y/N knew he was right, but she could only admire curiously the firmness in his voice. Was he really this fearless or did he only keep up this facade to lessen her worry?

“Maybe you’re right.”

“You know I am.”

“Shut up, Hyuck”

He softly laughed at her tone as he let his fingers run through strands of her hair as if mesmerized by the way she was really there, tucked in his side as her index finger traced patterns mindlessly onto his chest. And he was scared too.

He was scared that the patters would slip through his skin and burn his hurting heart. Scared that tomorrow could bring an end to him, to them. Scared that he would knowingly let his lifeline vanish before his eyes, taking with her his whole being. He wasn’t scared for himself, no. He was scared for her and only her.

“Y/N please tell me you’ll always love me.”

“Ew Hyuck, what the heck are you talking about?”

“Y/N please”

His voice trembled then and broke at the end of the sentence. Y/N craned her neck in order to lift her gaze to his face. She found his eyes already trained on her, staring through her soul with an indecipherable look. That seemed to wake her up a little.

“What is this all about? You said nothing will be different. Why should we- “

He seemed to realize his mistake as he softly shushed her, cradling her back in his comforting embrace.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, I just want to hear it from you”

It was silent for a few moments and his caresses seemed to slowly lull her to sleep, hopefully, a soothing one.

“You know I do. I love you and I’ll keep loving you no matter what.”

Her words were muffled, barely audible, but they resonated through Haechan’s entire body. It was a matter of minutes before Y/N was off to Dreamland while Haechan came undone in the darkness of their shared room. Hot tears rimmed his eyes before slipping down his cheeks, leaving trails of ashes from fallen stars. He closed his eyes tightly, feeling the utter dread rip apart his body, burn every piece of him down to nothing as the only witness to him falling apart was the moon which seemed to shine shallowly through the lids. He lifted a hand to cover his mouth, to keep the devastation inside himself, to let it eat him inside out.

That’s how he finally fell asleep, heart in his throat, weakly yelling at him to give up, to allow her full control and his mind, fighting against it, destroying him from both ends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N’s hands were sweating as Mark went over the plan for the millionth time, talking endlessly from the passenger seat. Johnny was sat behind the wheel, gripping it so tightly, Y/N was afraid it would bend and break anytime. She did her best trying to shut down her emotions ever since she woke up that morning, falling into her way to cope with unwanted uneasiness that came every time she had to go on a mission.

“Are you sure you’re feeling well, Y/N?” Mark’s voice snapped her out of her state.

“Huh?”

“You seem a bit out of it”

“I’m alright, don’t worry,” Mark still seemed reluctant and she could feel Johnny’s gaze through the mirror in front of him “really, I promise.”

Mark sighed as he turned back around, settling down in his seat as silence enveloped the car. Suddenly, fingers slipped through hers, intertwining their hands with a strong grip. Y/N’s head snapped towards Haechan who watched carefully with worried, but soft eyes. She could tell he was nervous too, but he tried to push that aside just to make sure she was fine. In return, she squeezed his hand back fiercely, trying to show him he could also lean on her, that there was nothing to be afraid as long as they stayed together.

As they neared their destination, the tension in the car intensified, almost suffocating Y/N as she struggled to keep her mind clear and not let her evident fear unleash and swallow up her sanity. The car stopped just short of the entrance gate as they unbuckled their seat belts. Y/N watched as Mark checked Haechan’s in-ear one last time before leaning forward herself. Mark did his job, but before she could bid goodbye and exit the car, Mark’s warm hand cupped her cheek affectionately, instantly grounding her with his reassuring touch.

“Come back safely, okay?”

“You know I will, we always do.” Y/N tried to bluff her bravery in a poor attempt to convince everyone, including herself, that she didn’t doubt herself. But Mark didn’t fall for it, and she knew none of the others did either. His eyes looked deeply into hers, searching her orbs desperately.

“Y/N.”

“I will, Mark. I really will.”

Johnny patted her head as Mark let his hand fall back in his lap.

“You too, devil child.” Haechan’s head snapped up and he had to force the smile on his face to seem genuine.

“Wow, I can really feel the love here, we’ll be fine.”

With that, the two youngest exited the vehicle, letting the light breeze brush away their nerves and bring them their usual mindset. Quick, quiet and clean. That’s how their jobs went every time. This had no reason to be different. They easily passed by the guards with the fake invitations Wendy provided them with and they stepped inside.

The first thing you could feel once you entered the party hall was definitely the stuck up atmosphere, which wasn’t shocking considering the people present there. The lights were dim and conversations were kept hushed. The tables on the sides of the room were filled with glasses of probably expensive champagne with fancy names and the occasional plates with small sweets. Y/N and Haechan spent the next 15 minutes checking their surroundings, blending in with the ever-growing crowd. They did catch a few glimpses of Park Ji-won caught up in conversations and Y/N could feel her blood start to boil at the sight of him. But she knew they weren’t there to kill him, so she kept a safe distance, far enough to keep out of his sight but close enough not to lose him in the crowd.

“I think we should get this going,” Haechan whispered subtly in her ear. She eyed the stairs she had to climb to the floor where the offices and a few other rooms were located, their best bet at finding the USB. Haechan was supposed to remain downstairs, monitor any weird actions and watch her back. Y/N nodded and immediately disappeared into the crowd, missing the indecipherable look he threw her.

Nearing the stairs, she quickly slipped upstairs, tapping her in-ear once, sending the boys outside and back at the dorm the signal that the plan was put in action.

“Alright, be careful” Taeyong murmured.

She checked the first few rooms nearest, so quietly you could hear a fly buzz around. Every room was empty, both of any people and the USB. Ji-won’s office was still yet to be found, but Y/N’s chest was uncharacteristically beating uncontrollably. Everything was so silent, only the ruckus from downstairs could be heard faintly. Haechan had been silent the entire time and Y/N clung onto her hope things were going well since he hadn’t said a word since she left.

The blood was rushing through her veins, adrenaline high and keeping her going as she neared the next door. Her eyes were focused and it seemed as if no emotion was displayed, her face muscles completely lax. Her footsteps were light, making no sound against the carpet beneath and adding to the eerie silence that threatened to cloud up her throat and spillover.

A loud bang resonated in her ear and she was instantly snapped out of her trance. She barely contained herself from lifting her hand up to touch the device settled inside her ear, but it was enough to make her freeze in her spot, waiting for something, anything, for someone to guide her, to calm her and keep her steady on her feet just for long enough to finish her task. But her guide never came, at least not in the form she hoped for.

“Y/N! Haechan! Get out of there! NOW!” Taeyong sounded more frantic than ever. Never had Y/N heard their reliable leader scream that way, not with such raw desperation and never to abandon their mission, never. Several gunshots now echoed in the background and her teammates’ yells could be barely heard over the ruckus created. “We’re getting attacked! Get out-” Another gunshot, incredibly loud and it was enough to cut off the connection, their only link to the outside.

Y/N felt herself getting dizzy. She was trapped, with no help, her brothers were in danger back home and she could do nothing besides muttering a broken ‘no’ and turning around harshly, not wasting a second to get out of here and back home. Her feet carried her thoughtlessly, to hell with the stupid USB and the cursed Park Ji-won, nothing mattered more than her family who needed her help now more than ever, and she would be damned if she doesn’t get there fast enough to fight alongside them.

Her entire world was shattering and she was hopelessly and blindly running back to gather the shards.

A hand reached out, grasping her arm and turning her so her back was pressed tightly to a chest as a hand came around her to embrace her tightly around the shoulders. Y/N reached out immediately, ready to fight back but settled for a few moments one sensing the familiar scent of Haechan.

Right, Haechan was still there, still with her. Her lifeline was still there, keeping her alive, clinging to her sanity. Her soulmate was there and anything would be alright as long as their fates stayed intertwined, she would fight until her last breath with him by her side.

“Thank God you’re here, we have to go, come on, the rest are in trouble.”

Y/N urged him to get moving, tugging on the arm wrapped around her and trying to step forward. But the boy behind her didn’t seem to budge, frozen in his spot like a cold statue, roots keeping him planted into the ground. She felt him let out a shaky breath, the warm air blowing a few strands of her hair as she struggled to snap him out of his daze and run back to her family, their family.

“Haechan come on-”

But her words were cut, just like Taeyong’s as the same arm that hugged her protectively in her safe heaven the night before, slipped up and tightened around her neck, cutting off her air supply. Her eyes widened, trying to comprehend what was happening right under her fingertips, the way the pieces of her world were falling apart, becoming dust in the wind with every second that passed. She struggled both physically and mentally. She tried to wrap her mind around the situation at hand, the way her vision was turning black and her will to keep going faded with it, the cruel way everything was ripped away from her in a mere second, the simple way her small world she worked so hard to gain along the years was vanishing into an endless abyss filled with bitter reminiscences.

Y/N struggled to grasp her Haechan’s sick betrayal.

#nct #nct fluff #nct angst #haechan fluff #nct mafia #haechan angst #haechan mafia #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct haechan #nct fanfic #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines #haechan fanfic #nct mafia au #nct au #haechan au

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passionate-reply · 3 years

Video

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This week on Great Albums: Soft Cell’s 1981 debut, Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret! The first great gay synth-pop album, and the one that walked so that acts like Bronski Beat, Erasure, and the Pet Shop Boys could run. Yeah, “Tainted Love” is cool, but have you ever heard “Sex Dwarf”? Full transcript after the break!

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! Today’s video tackles Soft Cell’s 1981 debut, Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret. While “Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret” is not necessarily a household name, this album did produce one track that I can just about guarantee that you’ve already heard, assuming you have any familiarity with Western popular music.

Music: “Tainted Love”

“Tainted Love” is one of those classics that’s almost too big for its own good, with an enormous shadow in popular culture. Few compositions from the 1980s, from the general arena of synth-pop, or, indeed, in the popular music canon, have quite as much of a legacy. As an introduction to the significance of Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret, it’s not an awful start, but it does have a bit of an “obvious single choice” feel--not only for that huge hook, but also for how tame, even quaint, it starts to feel compared to the other stuff here. “Tainted Love” is a gay song, sure, but it’s only expressing that idea in an abstract manner--it is a cover, after all. What the remainder of the album lacks in “DUN DUN,” it makes up for in frankness and remarkably candid handling of sexuality, which still manages to be a bit shocking, even as this album reaches its 40th birthday. Could anyone but Soft Cell’s Marc Almond really have sold us the raw, lurid raunchiness of “Sex Dwarf”?

Music: “Sex Dwarf”

Beyond the outrageously explicit nature of “Sex Dwarf,” its most noteworthy characteristic is just how playfully, cartoonishly devilish it is. I’ve always read it as a work in the grand tradition of the queer community reclaiming the trope of the camp gay villain, seen so often in popular media. In its purest form, this gay villain archetype is the ultimate expression of chaos and disorder--their rejection of social norms of gender and sexuality and their threat to the status quo go hand in hand. While it’s reprehensible to simply equate queerness with evil, there’s a long tradition of reclaiming that same imagery, turning the lavish power of such transgressor figures into a badge of strength, and that’s how I tend to interpret “Sex Dwarf.” That said, for as much as tracks like these seem to almost force a specifically gay reading of the album, it also seems interested in themes of sexuality and sin, more broadly. Take the track “Seedy Films,” for example, a more playful number full of slinky clarinet, teasing rattles, and breathy, almost gasping female backing vocals, seemingly suggestive of a more heterosexual vantage point.

Music: “Seedy Films”

I like to think of each track on Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret as coming to us from the perspective of a different anti-hero, each as unreliable and capricious as the last. Another key track that complicates issues of perspective and identity is the album’s tense opener, “Frustration.” “Frustration” delivers on its title musically, with a stubborn refusal to ever resolve its constant melodic tension at any point during its runtime, making it legitimately fatiguing and stressful to listen to. Its lyrics might be interpreted as a critique of the boredom lurking behind mainstream society’s “ideal” life of suburban safety, and a send-up of the alleged appeal of fitting in and being normal. But we could interpret it equally well, as a song that’s less about being “straight” in the sense of “square,” and more about being heterosexual--perhaps as the lament of a closeted gay man, tormented by an incommunicable internal struggle, despite all the material comforts in the world.

Music: “Frustration”

Either way, “Frustration” can be compared to “Secret Life” on the flip side, which focuses on the idea of a divide between one’s external facade of a respectable and ordinary existence, and the darkness of one’s internal, deviant, carnal desires.

Music: “Secret Life”

Whether their narrators are parsed as gay or straight, their songs are certainly tense tales of repression and release. And they’re also mediated by the idea of being trapped in a tame, and particularly middle-aged existence. The clearest expression of the theme of getting older, and possibly more and more constrained by the need to put on airs of respectability, is, naturally, “Youth”:

Music: “Youth”

The stale, conservative lifestyles of the middle-aged certainly don’t seem like the most natural subject matter for a debut album by a pair of twenty-somethings, but I like to interpret this fixation as a bit of a memento mori. The urgency of enjoying life’s pleasures, now, is checked by the fear of a future in which that window of opportunity is closing. As I said earlier, all of these tracks are narrated by some character or construct, and in that sense, the real identities of Marc Almond and David Ball matter fairly little. In the world of Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret, nearly everything feels constructed or artificial--it’s all just an act, as much as “Secret Life”’s narrator puts on a respectable front. The superbly campy “Entertain Me,” which wouldn’t feel out of place in some cult musical, engages most clearly with the idea of performance, bringing in a giggling call-and-response choir and a chaotic clamour of percussion in its desperate attempt to, well, entertain us. Critically positioned at the top of the second side, it’s the perfect place for the album to second-guess itself as a work of art.

Music: “Entertain Me”

That track is certainly more “Rocky Horror Picture Show” than “Architecture & Morality,” isn’t it? While the synth-pop acts penetrating the mainstream before Soft Cell, like Gary Numan and OMD, had a bit of punk’s rough, low-budget, DIY ethos to them, Soft Cell were the first ones really crafting performative, self-aware post-disco synth-pop, that owed more to the swooning divahood of Donna Summer in “I Feel Love” than it did to the starched shirts and robo-rhythms of Kraftwerk. Much like disco, Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret is truly a production--dense, luxurious, tweaked to perfection in a studio, and featuring several traditional instruments that are uncommon in rock, such as “Frustration”’s saxophone and “Seedy Films”’s clarinet.

The most noticeable thing about the cover of the album is almost certainly its lurid blue and fuchsia lighting, gleaming harshly against Almond and Ball’s leather jackets. It immediately takes us to the sweaty, nocturnal, and of course, homoerotic world this music dwells in. The duo stare us down, with fairly cross or standoffish posturing, suitable for an album as in-your-face as this one. There’s a bit of a narrative hook here, with Almond either producing this mysterious, almost certainly illicit package, or perhaps tucking it away. Almond’s sunglasses are a small detail, but one that I think holds a lot of contextual significance. There’s a long history of erotic art aimed at the gay male audience utilizing devices like hat-brims and shades to create a “disrupted gaze”--a sort of lightly objectifying, or compartmentalizing, manner of sexualizing its subjects. I’d also be remiss if I didn’t mention Ball’s snakeskin necktie, which is another classically sexy touch. Note also the neon light motif used for the text, which contributes to that nightlife feel as strongly as anything else. With a name like “Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret,” it would’ve been truly sinful to write that out in anything besides this warping neon, and it’s the perfect title to accompany an album that’s as insistent and gleefully tawdry as they come.

Earlier, I had contrasted Soft Cell with other major players in synth-pop who came before them, and I think that context is vital to understanding why this album is so indispensably important. Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret is, quite simply, the first great gay synthesiser album. Growing up in America, the rock and roll heartland, it’s hard to escape the understanding that electronic music is inherently gay-coded. But that’s an impression you won’t get from that first generation of artists, who presented as unpretentiously butch, and were more interested in singing about factories, spaceships, and telephone lines than about sex or romance with anybody. The deep relationship between queer culture and the music synthesiser simply wouldn’t have blossomed the way it did without Soft Cell, and the unforgettable worldwide success they achieved with “Tainted Love.” Without that foot in the door, the rise of groups like Bronski Beat, Erasure, and the Pet Shop Boys later in the 80s would’ve been unthinkable. That alone makes Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret a piece of essential listening for anyone seeking to understand the history of electronic music.

While Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret remains Soft Cell’s great masterpiece, and they never reached the same heights of commercial success again, they went on to release two additional studio LPs before disbanding in the mid-1980s. Marc Almond went on to have a fairly successful career as a solo artist, bagging a few additional hit singles in the UK, and David Ball became half of the house duo The Grid. The pair did re-unite in 2002, to produce a rather serviceable LP called Cruelty Without Beauty, which explores many of the same themes of their earlier work, albeit through a lens of Information Age dread.

Music: “Caligula Syndrome”

In 2019, we were told to expect the true final report of Soft Cell, in the form of a grand farewell concert entitled “Say Hello, Wave Good-Bye”--a title pulled from one of the singles off Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret. But, for all of the hype, it looks like that really won’t be the end for them after all, as Soft Cell have announced yet another reunion in 2021, and another new studio album in the works. So we’ll have to see what else these two have in store!

Overall, my favourite track on Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret is the single “Bedsitter.” It’s all about questioning whether the life of hedonistic excess is really worth it in the end. It’s about those moments one spends between benders, binges, and flings, gripped by emptiness and self-doubt. Therefore, the presence of “Bedsitter” adds some nuance, and undercuts a lot of the easy, simple conclusions we’re tempted to make, from a surface-level reading of the album as a free-love bonanza. With languid and melancholy verses clashing with a disconcertingly anthemic refrain, it’s filled with tension from within, and despite its lack of external conflict, it comes across as one of the more unsettling tracks we have to choose from. That’s all for today. Thanks for listening!

Music: “Bedsitter”

#music #great albums #album review #album reviews #synth-pop #synth pop #synthpop #soft cell #marc almond

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emmy-writes-sometimes · 4 years

Text

Quarantine

When Chris’s honeymoon gets cancelled and Scott ends up getting quarantined with them to avoid New York, their lives turn to absolute chaos. This ended up being SO long!

“Can I, uh…?” Chris cocked his head at the door to their home office, where his wife of a full week was sitting at her desk. She nodded, turning off her microphone and getting up. She didn’t even know why they wanted her sitting in on that meeting.

“Yeah?” She asked as she joined him at the door. He smelled like the shaving cream he had just used in his shower.

“So, uh, Scott’s boyfriend might or might not be sick,” Chris started, eyes squinting like he was waiting for a blow. “And he can’t be around the kids, or Mom and Dad until he tests, so can we…?” She knew what he was asking before he even finished.

“Yes, he can stay here,” she sighed. “But no funny business, okay? I still have to work until I finish this project.” Chris grinned like a little kid whose parents said he can keep the stray dog.

“Thank you, I love you, and he’ll be here in two hours.”

“New York is three and a half hours away,” she reminded him, tilting her head.

“I know. I told him he could come an hour and a half ago.”

“Christopher!” She chided as he chuckled. “You have to make dinner tonight, then, because I’m not doing it.”

“Fine,” he agreed. “If you feed the dogs.” She rolled her eyes and went back to work. The next time she even looked up and out the window was when Scott’s car pulled up in the driveway and he began taking a suspicious amount of luggage from it. Chris ran to the front door, guarding Dodger and their puppy, Rex, from getting out. She stood up, ready to greet Scott from six feet away.

“No, no, no, you have to read the definition!” Scott exclaimed to his brother, holding his cards against humanity game in his hands. “It’s in the rules!”

“Because you go by all the rules!” Chris taunted back, shaking his head. “I’m not reading the definition of fuckin’ Bukkake in front of my wife.”

“You gotta!” Chris rolled his eyes but took his phone out of his pocket anyway, his face turning as red as a tomato as he read.

“A relatively common prono fetish that includes one sperm recipient, usually of the female variety, and at least 3 or more sperm donors,” Chris read, slapping his phone down on the wooden table. “There! Happy?”

“Oh, very,” Scott grinned like a mad man, so much so that it made Chris get up and whack the back of his head. She realized what was happening and held her arms out.

“Nope!” She said. “No fighting. Scott’s card is the winner, and…”

“Ha!” Scott yelled. “I won!”

“AND he has to go walk the dogs before they poop all over the house as punishment for making Chris read an embarrassing definition out loud when it isn’t even in the rules!” She finished, putting all of her cards down. Both boys exclaimed in disgust, but they stopped arguing. Scott stood up, and so did Rex, who was sitting under the table waiting for scraps that would never come.

“Maybe I should’ve gotten sick,” Scott groaned as he walked over to where they kept the leashes. Chris’s earlier disgust turned to laughter as he watched his brother gather the plastic bags they kept for a very specific purpose. Within a minute, Scott had both dogs leashed and was walking out of the door, while Chris cleaned up the six pack and two extras they’d had and she picked up the box of cards Scott had brought along.

“I can not believe you let him win!” Chris said as he poured the last few drops of a beer bottle down the sink drain. She smirk. “You literally married me last week!”

“And if it weren’t for Coronavirus, we would be swimming with pigs in the Bahamas! And drinking for breakfast, lunch, and dinner! And it would be socially appropriate!” Chris chuckled.

“It’s better to be stuck here than there, you know that.” He knew she was disappointed, and not just because she hadn’t moved her boarding pass from the dining room table. “But I was not about to have you getting sick and die of fuckin’ Coronavirus right after I marry you.”

“But pigs on a white sand beach, Christopher. Pigs.” He put the last of the bottles in the trash and slid it closed, then walked over to where she was standing sorting cards. He grabbed her from the back, hugging her tightly to him, and kissed the exposed skin on her shoulder.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said, pulling her hair aside to kiss her again. She cringed at the feeling. “Give me about ten minutes.”

“Your beard tickles.”

“Get used to it. It’s a quarantine beard and it’s happening.” She giggled.

“How long do you think this’ll last?” He shrugged.

“I don’t know, but I can guarantee we’ll get stir crazy within a week.” She took in a deep breath.

“It better not last long because I’m going to need, just, like, an hour at some point.” Chris chuckled again, hugging her tighter.

“I’ll finish up here. You worked hard today. You should sleep.”

“And that’s why I love you,” she replied. “It takes minimal to no effort to get you to do things for me.” Chris scoffed, but watched her disappear up the set of stairs to their bathroom to take off the makeup she had been forced to put on for a meeting.

“Please tell me why you thought this was a good idea,” she groaned as she pushed the heavy couch toward Chris, who was standing on top of the dining room table, as she and Scott moved every single item of furniture around until it was in the same place it had been for the past six months.

“Because I thought the couch would look better exchanged with the loveseat and then the loveseat with the old armchair and the picture of the creepy sea captain with the sea shell thing you have?” Chris suggested. She just glared at him.

“Chris, we’ve been here for two hours.”

“You didn’t even let me have a water break!” Scott complained as he flopped down on the couch. Chris got down from the table, arms crossed against his chest.

“Well, what if we switched the piano with the sideboard? Then it would be easier to find the leashes and-”

“I,” she started to reply, “am not moving anything else in this house.” She sat down on the loveseat, putting her feet up on the coffee table. Chris leaned down to the floor to pet Dodger.

“At least my dog loves me,” Chris said.

“Dodger, come here!” Scott interrupted. The dog perked up his ears and left Chris’s lap for his brother, curling up against him immediately.

“We’re not talking to you until you make us quarantine grilled cheeses,” she said to Chris as he stood up.

“We’re going to run out of bread.”

“Not if I go get the sourdough starter from Ellie.”

“Ellie doesn’t live in this house.”

“But I can get it without even touching-”

“We will make our own bread!” Chris declared. “Nobody leaves this house unless it’s Scott because he’s sick.”

“Dude, thanks for giving me up.”

“Thanks for taking my dog.”

“How much longer are we going to be in actual prison?” She asked Chris as he laid back down in their bed holding a cup of coffee in each hand.

“How many mornings are you going to make me make this?” He asked in response, handing her the Dalgona coffee she saw on Tik Tok the day before.

“It’s good, so….” Chris sighed and put his arm between her head and the bed’s headboard, trying to wake up enough to understand what the TV was saying.

“… Has been extended through May 4th, 2020, with another possible extension…” Both of them groaned so loudly that Scott thought they were doing something else when he walked by. He walked into the room with his own cup of hot coffee, looking at the TV before his brother and sister-in-law.

“I’m not fuckin’ staying in this house until May 4th,” she said loudly. “Chris, make it go away.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, call the senators and make them stop it.” Chris rolled his eyes.

“Babe. That is not what ASP is about.” It was her turn to roll her eyes at her husband, mocking him much like Scott did.

“Don’t start with that again,” Scott said, “it’s great, but annoying.”

“You’re annoying.” Chris shot his brother a threatening look until he went back to the guest bedroom. “I don’t wanna stay here until May 4th either.”

“That’s Star Wars day.”

“Oh, hey, we could watch the new one,” Chris suggested. “Unless you lied and watched it without me.”

“Like how you took Miles and Stella and bought them lightsabers and didn’t get me one?” She pouted.

“Are you still mad about that?”

“As mad as when our honeymoon got cancelled because of Coronavirus.” Chris put his coffee down and hugged her close to him. “I wanted to fuck you on a beach.”

“And you will. You… already did, that one weekend in the Hamptons. But my point is…” The two dogs jumped up on the bed, joining their parents in a cuddle. “We’ll go when the stay at home is lifted, okay? I really don’t want to get stuck somewhere else or get sick. This shit’s serious.”

“I know.”

“And at least we can still spend time together. And I don’t have to be in LA next week.” Chris pressed a soft, sweet kiss to her lips. She tasted like instant coffee. “I love you and I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

It had been three days and she was waiting for the I’ll-make-it-up-to-you that Chris promised. He always made promises and always kept them, always, so it was only a matter of time before something was done. It had been two weeks since Scott tested negative at a drive-thru, too, so he’d finally gone to see his sisters and the kids. Rex and Dodger weren’t battling it out for some reason, instead on their respective beds on the floor on either side of the TV stand. She was on the couch, playing Animal Crossing for the third day in a row since she’d gotten it from Target drive-up. And Chris was, surprisingly, nowhere to be found. He’d been gone since he delivered her coffee that morning. Until she heard the back door slide open and Chris walked inside in the clothes he usually painted or cleaned in.

“Come outside,” Chris instructed. “I’m not letting you negotiate, come outside.” He had a shit-eating grin on his face, one that said he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Why?”

“Humor me, baby, please?” He asked, walking up to her and offering her a hand. He smelled like chemicals. For some reason, she loved him so much that she was about to cooperate with whatever scheme he had come up with to entertain them for the day.

“Why are you taking me to the backyard?” She was suspicious. The same kind of suspicious she was on the day that he proposed to her nine months ago. But Chris didn’t answer. He just kept holding her hand and leading her outside with a stupid smile on his face and a Patriots hat on his forehead to hide it. She reached the door and looked outside to where the pool had been covered since October, since Chris was too lazy to get it heated. But this time, he had opened the pool and balanced the chemicals and cleaned the algae out. He’d cleaned off the chairs and the tables. Her tan lotion and a towel was sitting on one of the chairs, Chris’s towel and water bottle on the other. He’d taken her old sorority cooler out and filled it with beer and White Claw. He’d tried to make the honeymoon they couldn’t have.

“Christopher,” she said as he dropped her hand. Her heart melted into a million fucking pieces at the sight, and she just looked over at him.

“Did I do okay?” He wasn’t playing – he was genuinely asking her if he did okay.

“Yeah.” Tears started coming to her eyes, too quickly to stop, and she stood up and kissed him. “I love you,” she said.

“I love you too.” He gave her a watery smile and a kiss on her forehead, pulling her in for a hug. “I promise we’ll go swim with pigs once quarantine is over. Now go put your swimsuit on so I can take it off.”

“You’re a fucking child.” She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek, thanking him again, as she turned to go change clothes. That was when a certain SUV rolled up in the driveway and Chris’s demeanor changed.

“No,” Chris said to himself. Scott was back.

“Chris, it’s fine!” Chris didn’t listen, instead crossing the backyard to the gate and then the gate to Scott’s car, where he tried to wave him back inside.

“No, no, no, no, you said you were gonna be gone all day!” Scott turned off his car and got out.

“What?”

“I made… Oh, come on! Go back to Mom and Dad’s!”

“I was just there!”

“Then go play with Miles and Stella!”

“Why?”

“Because I made the Bahamas in the pool for my wife.” Scott scoffed. “I didn’t even show her the blow-up flying pig floatie I ordered off Amazon.”

“That’s all you needed to say, bud.” Scott patted his brother’s shoulder.

“What, I needed to say a flying pig floatie or…”

“Go spend some time with your wife, man. It’s fine. God knows when this thing is going to be over. You deserve a little happy.”

“Dude, I live here.” Scott shook Chris’s shoulder before slipping his sunglasses back on his face and slinking back into his car. Chris sighed happily, walking back to the backyard. She was standing there, phone in her hand, and only in the towel Chris had left out for her.

“Hey,” he replied, “good news, Scott…” He chuckled. “Are you filming this?”

“There’s a thing on Tik Tok where you go to your boys and drop your towel,” she said with a little sad face, thinking he wasn’t into it.

“Oh. Then go ahead.” She held her phone in the hand, dropping the towel, and watching Chris’s face light up.

“Thank you for making our Bahamas,” she said as she shut the phone off, having recorded his reaction. She reached for the towel on the floor, but Chris shook his head.

“There’s no way that’s going back on. If all I had to do was this to get this, then what will doing the dishes do?”

“Chris!”

#chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff

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butmomilovejin · 3 years

Text

Day 1/365

Prompt: “Never heard of that being used as a murder weapon before.”

Genre: Angst, Mild crack

Summary: Jungkook had never felt fury like that; uncontrollable. You, having been his best friend for the best part of the last decade, meant so much to him and he couldn’t stand the thought of you being uncomfortable under the hands of some gross loner at a party. After he had taken his anger out on his target, he ends up at his boyfriend’s front door

Warnings: Mentions of sexual harassment, Violence, Yoongi tries to make light of a bad situation?

WC: 1.4k

It was 2 in the morning and Jungkook was not where he should be, in bed, asleep. No. He was walking the streets of Seoul, pace rapid, as his legs carry him without him knowing, to Yoongi’s front door.

He didn’t know what came over him. Earlier that evening, when you had told him about what that guy had done to you at a party the night before, touching you up as you wriggled to escape, you hadn’t expected him to explode like that, rushing out the door before you’d even finished your last sentence. Jungkook rang the doorbell for what felt like hours. No sign of movement in the house. Reaching into his pocket for his phone, he sees almost 100 missed calls from you over the past few hours. He continues to ignore them though as he unlocks the phone and goes straight to Yoongi’s contact. The phone rang... and rang... and rang... and Jungkook had begun searching through his messy pockets to try and find something to pick the lock with. But finally, just as it almost went to voicemail, a groggy sounding Yoongi muttered a confused ‘Hello?’ on the other end of the phone.

“Yoongi! How could you not hear the doorbell??”

“You’re at my house?” He was now gradually waking up due to the rushed tone of Jungkook’s voice.

“Yes, now please let me in my saliva is turning into ice out here.”

“Nice mental image thank you, but the door’s open just come in.”

“Oh, ok- wait you leave your door unlocked at night?”

“Locking doors is for the weak; now come inside before you get hypothermia.”

Jungkook tested the handle on the door and sure enough, it was open. He heads to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, listening to the soft movement of Yoongi’s footsteps he walks down the stairs, clad in his dressing gown and glasses, hair a mess, strands in every direction, not that Jungkook’s was any better.

Yoongi sits at a stool in the kitchen and looks at JK’s back as his hands grip the sink, white knuckles protruding, Yoongi seemingly not phased at all that his boyfriend was at his house at the witching hour, looking rather handsomely disheveled.

“Well, aren’t you gonna ask me why I’m here?” Jungkook asked, now facing Yoongi.

“No, I figured you’d tell me without prompting anyway.”

“You- Fair enough. Well where do I even START?”

“Why don’t we start with why you’re not at Y/N’s having your movie night, which by the way, still upset I didn’t get an invite.”

“It’s tradition between us! You can’t come it’s OUR time.”

“Kook... I’m joking,” Yoongi says as he guides the younger to the living room and sits him on a sofa across from himself, “What happened babe?”

The pet name causes Jungkook to look up lovingly to Yoongi.

“Well, ok, so I was with her and she seemed a bit- I don’t know. She seemed kind of off-ish, I knew something was up when she didn’t even suggest Cat in the Hat for our movie.”

Yoongi nods along but he doesn’t know you nearly as well as Jungkook and has no idea how that would give the impression there was something wrong. Regardless, he acts like he understands as Jungkook continues on.

“I asked her what was up and she was very reluctant to tell me but eventually she gave in. She was harassed last night at that party we were meant to go to. I wish we never ate that week old pie, we would’ve been there if we weren’t spewing everywhere”

“Harassed?” Yoongi asked, trying to the pinpoint the important parts in between Jungkook’s rambled monologue.

“The guy was touching her up even when she was trying to get back to her friends. She said she was fine about it last night, because she was so drunk, it barely registered in her brain, but she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it all day today.”

“Well, technically yesterday, its 2am.”

“Dude... shut the fuck up.”

“Did you just friend zone me, we’ve been together for 2 years bro.”

“I love you bro.”

“I love you too bro, anyway please continue.”

“Oh yeah, so I basically stormed out, started running before I even knew who it was, realised I didn’t know who I was after, went to her friends Instagram and saw him and Y/N in the back of the picture, figured out who he was, turns out I went to school with the prick, found his Insta and, through that, found he still lived with his parents, knocked on the door, his dad opened the door, I politely asked for his son-” He took a deep breath before continuing, “He called him down, I grabbed his collar and dragged him outside and ruffled him up a bit, a lot actually, but then his dad came out with a whole ass bat and I grabbed the banana in my pocket I was saving for movie snacks and smacked him in the head with it before he could get me with the bat then he fell down and I ran away, oh my god have I killed an innocent old man?”

“Uhhhhhh,” Yoongi is unsure of what to say as Jungkook was now pacing around his living room, “Never heard of that being used as a murder weapon before.”

Jungkook gave him a death stare.

“Whew, if looks could kill. Listen Kook, you did the right thing, it was a BANANA, as strong as you think you are Mr Gym Lad, you’re not strong enough to kill a man with just a banana. What about Y/N though? You didn’t even say anything before you left?”

Jungkook had calmed down a tad now and was perched back on the sofa. He shook his head to the question, suddenly feeling bad that you were probably at home worrying when, most likely, you had just wanted comfort from him about the situation.

“Call her Kookie. Lets get in my car, you call her, and I’ll drive to her place.”

Jungkook agreed instantly, Yoongi was always good at grounding him.

They did as they said and Jungkook held his phone to his ear as it rang, after some further persuasion from Yoongi, as the car rolled through the harsh lights of the street lamps, roads completely bare of any sign of life. Contrasting the call to his boyfriend, the phone hadn’t even rang once before your voice was on the other end.

“KOOK WHAT THE FU-”

“Hey...” He says quietly, a bit embarrassed of the drama he had caused.

“What did you do?” You said, relieved that you could hear his voice.

“Me and Yoongi are on our way over, I’m like 5 minutes away, we’ll talk about it then.”

You sigh, “Ok Kookie, you want hot chocolate?”

He smiles slightly for the first time since stepping foot in your apartment earlier that night. “Do you even have to ask?”

“I’m making one for Yoongi too, does he want cream and marshmallows?”

“You want cream and marshmallows on your hot chocolate babe?” Jungkook holds the phone away from him as he directs the question to Yoongi, putting you on loud speaker.

“Obviously.”

“Ok, see you soon.” You respond before hanging up.

They buzz your apartment and you let them in instantly. The minute the door opens, you run to Jungkook, hooking your legs around him as you hug him closely. You had been worried all night he might have done something stupid on your behalf and gotten himself hurt or, more drastically, imprisoned.

He chuckles lowly as he sets you down. You walk to the kitchen and like little ducklings, they follow.

You hand out the hot chocolate and sit at the dining table, waiting for Jungkook to explain. Both you and Yoongi look at him expectedly and he finally begins his explanation, fortunately much calmer than the first time he had recited his story to Yoongi.

When he was finished, you go to wrap your arms around his neck, “Thank you,” you murmur into his hair as he keens to your hug, “But next time you wanna start chaos, take me with you.” You unwrap your arms to give him a hard flick on the back of the head, causing Yoongi to snigger and Jungkook to sheepishly rub the back of his head.

“Now, I know its late, but can we watch The Cat in the Hat?”

The boys share a look before agreeing and curling up with you on the sofa.

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AN- Ok! This is my first work of this year! I want to do one every day this year, it won’t always be possible but I will try my best! Yoongi could be seen as a bit insensitive in this one but I wanted to portray the dynamic his and Jungkook’s relationship has. If you enjoyed please leave me some feedback to help me improve and motivate me, like and reblog!

#bts #bts fic #bts angst #jungkook #yoongi #suga #bts fluff

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