#it’s hard enough playing already and then my controls move on their own accord? horrible

[arsonistman]

I just started playing deltarune and I can’t even finish the first boss because of my broken controllers T^T

#it’s hard enough playing already and then my controls move on their own accord? horrible #they’ve been broken since the summer but I’m getting new ones for my birthday tho :D #txt #me complaing #deltarune

[isagisyoichi]

PINKY STAR (RUN) :｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

SYNOPSIS: isagi as your boyfriend

CHARACTERS INCLUDED: isagi yoichi my boyfriend of many several years

WARNINGS: swearing? i think idk i forget also yah pretend they all go to the same school and stuff. also horribly self indulgent if u couldn't already tell

A/N: if you remember my old one delete it from your memory it was literally so bad help anyways the re-up because my boyfriend deserves better. also i really like this one and i feel like it’s more in character for him :P lol i've had this in my drafts for like, ever <3 but also my last post for a while because i have ap exams and my sat soon :P

FOR: the anon that asked me where my original isagi bf hcs went :’)

after the initial awkwardness of being in a new relationship fades and you two become comfortable with each other, a relationship with isagi would be like dating your slightly awkward best friend who you make out with sometimes.

like, i don’t really see isagi being high maintenance, so i feel like a relationship with him would definitely be on the relaxed side, but still romantic, you know?

isagi’s inner monologue is so funny and he definitely lets his thoughts out to you. it makes you laugh to see your usually friendly-to-all boyfriend have his moments, too.

you guys are one of those couples that give each other a look when someone’s doing something weird in public #telepathicconnection <3

but, isagi’s really such a sweetie with you. i know user isagisyoichi may be slightly biased when they say this, but believe me when i say that isagi’s 100% boyfriend material.

walks you to class whenever he can. always either holding your hand as he listens attentively to you complaining about school.

writes down things he feels are important about you in a digital note entitled “y/n 💗,” so he can remember them in the future.

isagi's used to talking to all kinds of people, so even if you're not the most talkative, he can adjust with no problem.

and he’ll always entertain you about whatever stupid conversation you wanna have.

kinda basic with pet names. babe, baby, dork (he would, i don’t wanna hear it), are his usual rotation.

randomly compliments you/says these really romantic things out of nowhere because he can’t control himself and often blurts things out.

“yeah, of course, when we get married, i’ll-”

“when we get married?” you inquire as you cut isagi off. you two have never discussed marriage, just but the thought of isagi wanting to spend the rest of his life with you is enough to make your head spin.

isagi’s eyes go wide when he realizes what he’s said. damn his mouth that moves faster than his mind.

swallowing hard and taking a breath, isagi says, “y-yeah, when we get married,” further affirming his statement with a nod, albeit a bit of a nervous one.

now both of you guys are flustered LOL.

likes to sit his head in your lap and have you play with his hair, while you two talk or just sit in silence.

such a good listener, perfect person to rant about anything with. he’s very understanding, he’ll hold you if you need him to, wipe your tears if you’re crying, give you advice if you need it, just overall so sweet.

also always knows when you're sad because of his intuition. isagi encourages you to open up to him, but ultimately doesn’t force you, just lets you know that he’s always there for you <3

(that's kind of lie because isagi does pry a little LOL, but he means well)

takes care of you! nags you a little, tries his best to make sure you're not doing anything stupid, and if you are, that someone responsible (him) is watching you, looks after you when you’re sick, etc.

gives you his jacket when you’re cold (he’s been waiting to do that his whole life bro LMAOO), carries your things, always texts you good morning and good night, just overall sooo good to you.

but as soft as he is for you, isagi does have this tendency to get these random spouts of confidence, so sometimes he’ll say or do something really bold out of nowhere.

like, he’ll suddenly grab your waist and pull you closer to him, or he’ll kiss you out of the blue. the flustered expression that rests on your face for a change always makes him smirk *heart eyes*

in general, though, isagi's still kind of awkward sometimes regardless and does say or do things that make you go "???" and make him be like "why did i do that" LOL he's so cute though <333

he’s pretty basic with dates, usually opts for things like restaurants, walks in the parks, movie nights, or stuff like that, but they’re still really fun!

but, if you ever want to do something out of the norm, he wouldn't be opposed to it, either. but, you do have to tell him ‘cause he's not a mind reader lol.

(okay but, one time, isagi tried to watch a scary movie with you because he wanted to do that thing where he wraps his arm around you during the scary parts, but HE ended up being scared instead 😭)

isagi’s the type to put your name with a heart emoji or the date you guys started dating in his instagram bio LOL

y/n 💓 IHS Forward #10 ⚽️ *insert some soccer quote about grinding*

it’s a bit middle school, but you let it slide because you know he just wants to show you off <3

study sessions are normal between you two but, you guys always get bored or distracted halfway through and start watching youtube or something LOL.

it’s canon he’s a thigh man lol, so if he ever sees you wearing an oversized shirt, especially one of his, with shorts, isagi will literally short circuit in real life.

he keeps his hand on your thigh when you guys cuddle that day, tracing patterns on your skin, or just squeezing it every now and then.

in general, though, isagi likes poking at and playing with them whenever they're out <3

once, isagi wanted you to do that trend on tiktok where he sits between your thighs and stuff, but he had no idea how to bring it up LOL

so, isagi just watched tiktoks of it in front of you and hoped eventually you would get the hint 🙄

and you did, thanks to his incredible lack of subtly. he doesn’t even care when you giggle and tell him how bad he is at being slick, isagi got your thighs around him, he won!!!!!!

takes a picture (or two or three) to savor the moment.

(even though he could literally just ask you to do it again in the future, but whatever, i guess)

when you’re dating isagi, the team comes with him too LOL

they’re always snapchatting you pictures of isagi when they’re hanging out without you, with stupid captions like, “look how sad your boyfriend is without you 😞”

isagi’s not even sad in the picture, he’s just confused as to why they’re shoving a camera in his face 😭

isagi one hundred percent attempts to get you to run the mile with him during gym if you don’t already.

“babe, just try!” isagi pants, as he catches up to you and your friends, as you guys are still on your second lap.

admittedly, the effort is cute, but beloved, i hate to break it to you- i will not be doing anything of the sort.

he will sit down or walk around with you after you finish the mile, though. if he’s not already playing soccer lollll.

when he does choose to go with you, expect exclamations from the team about how isagi “abandoned us for his little relationship” 👎

isagi’s receiving love language is words of affirmation (also basically canon LOL) so, he really values the compliments you give him with his whole heart.

you could tell him how his hair looks nice in the morning, and isagi will think about it all day.

whether it be about how cute he is, or how talented of a player he is, isagi really is happiest when you praise him <3

speaking of soccer, isagi has this tendency to get lost in the moment and talk your head off about some soccer related tangent that probably makes no sense to you.

his eyes light up and his voice is just oozing with passion for what he does as he goes into detail about how he made this crazy goal at practice while you stare at him with the biggest heart eyes ever, adoring his dedication.

and of course when isagi realizes he was rambling, he apologizes profusely for “boring” you, like the gentleman he is.

but when you reassure him that he could never bore you and that you want nothing more than for him to go on, isagi begins to feels lightheaded due to his adoration for you <3

if you're the type to go all out when it supporting isagi at soccer- like make one of those corny signs, yell from the crowd, wear his spare jersey to games, isagi will physically have to withhold his heart from jumping out his chest.

he's a little embarrassed that you're doing all that for him, but the effort means soooo much to him.

and speaking of soccer, it would mean a lot to isagi if you not only supported him at games and stuff, but expressed an interest in learning more about soccer as a whole, too.

you know, learn a little more about the game on your own accord, ask him to teach you how to properly play, or even challenge him to a one on one, do stuff like that, and he’ll literally be head over heels for you. well, more than he already is.

(he always goes easy on you on your guys 1v1's and he thinks your efforts are adorable, no matter how much you may or may not suck)

he'd repay the effort and try to get interested in whatever your hobbies are!

also, you can get him to do almost anything if you pout and beg hard enough, you’re literally so hard to say no to in isagi’s eyes <3

isagi’s the type to not realize when other people are flirting with him LOL

he just thinks they’re being nice (unless they’re being straight up) and i don’t think he would really process it because he’s so focused on you romantically, if that makes sense.

once he realizes you’re jealous, isagi apologizes earnestly, reassuring you over and over again that you're everything he could ask for and that he would never intentionally try to hurt you and all that jazz.

although, i will admit, sometimes isagi’s kinda smug when you're jealous, especially when it’s over a dumb reason 👎

however, when he’s jealous i feel like it could go one of two ways-

on normal days, isagi would just stand there to “intimidate” the other person, maybe cough a little for emphasis until they go away lol.

but on days where he’s already mad/filled with adrenaline/or someone’s really not taking a hint and you’re visibly uncomfortable- oh boy, it’s like a switch flips in him.

has those same fiery eyes he has during the climax of a game. the energy he’s exuding is dead serious, and that alone is enough for the person bothering you to go away. not bad for a man that’s only 5’8 🥰

adding on, isagi doesn’t take any shit about you, ever. even if it’s from his friends. usually isagi’s very neutral and doesn’t actively try to start conflict, but there are some things he’ll always defend and you’re one of them.

isagi always listens/watches/reads/etc whatever you recommend him (on that note, please recommend him good anime because isagi’s out here willingly telling people his favorite anime is darling in the franxx), even if he doesn’t necessarily like it LOL

you could show isagi objectively, the worst song ever and he would be like “yeah, it was good babe!” (it was not)

also does the same thing when you bring him shopping with you, like he's absolutely NO HELP 😭

you could try on the ugliest sweater known to man and he’d like “you look nice 🙂” pls be honest isagi, you can say it’s hideous!!!!!!

but isagi’s also being somewhat truthful in his statement because he does genuinely think you look nice in everything <3

also loves when you wear his clothes- always feels a mixture between pride and slight shyness?

kinda lol idk but overall, isagi really is sooo happy you wanna show him off that much, especially when you're wearing something of his around his friends :')

he says “i love you” first, no doubt.

he’s a bit nervous when he does because he doesn’t know if you’ll reciprocate, but he really does love you and he feels like he physically can’t hold it in anymore.

“i promise you don’t have to say it back!” isagi reassures anxiously. “i know it’s a really big commitment, and if it’s too early for you right now-”

“i love you, too.”

#queued #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock headcanons #bllk headcanons #isagi yoichi #isagi #isagi blue lock #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi headcanons #isagi fluff #isagi imagine

[jaeminscoffee]

Lo contrario al amor | q. kn; s. jn

Lo contrario al amor- The opposite of love.

Pairing- Seo Johnny x reader x Qian Kun

Genre- Smut.

Word count- 4.14k

Warnings- threesome, sexual themes followed, stripper!reader au, richceo!kun and Johnny au, overstimulation, horrible depiction of how a strip club works, light spanking, dirty talking, praise kink, honestly a filth, why am i even bothering with the warnings-, pet names: princess, doll, slut, baby girl. Sir kink. Also kinda rushed because I'm an idiot (actually, it's cause i wrote this a day before my sociology exam so..-)

Synopsis- The way they looked at you seemed close enough to love. You thought it looked quite the opposite of love. And your definition of the opposite of love was lust.

Type- Requested! I'm sorry this took long! I really had to push myself to write this oskekke

Raven's up next, you've got 2 minutes!" Jacob screamed in the changing room where you all lined up according to who's going up the stage next, all dolled up, the actual costumes underneath the loose shirts handed to you for coverage until the performance. 

"Raven's not performing today. She's got a few other works to do"

Stripper. Not many are usually proud of that line of profession. But you thought nothing wrong of it. You were proud to blurt out "I work at  N-WV club as a part time stripper and part time server". You loved dancing and you loved the attention you got, you thought it was great. And you got paid handsomely too so that's a plus one. 

What made you love your job further more than you already loved it was the regulars you had during your days of performance. 

The thing you liked about your club was they never reveal personal identity. You each had a code name of your own. You were given the name Raven by the audience due to your dark tresses and the variety of black outfits you'd worn and performed and not to mention, absolutely rocked in. Another reason to love your work. Safe identity with no harms to personal life whatsoever. 

Hel and Hades. You'd ridiculed the names when you first heard them from your co-worker. "Which idiots would name themselves after the vikings and the death god??" you'd mocked until you actually met the owners of the names. 

Always sat the farthest away from the stage but dead in the middle which showcased the entirety of the stage in one screen was the table labelled by their names. Two young sat always adorned in a suit, the coat of the tux shrugged off their body with it loosely hanging over their shoulder, the tie tugged loose with the collar button undone and the sleeves rolled up to their elbow. 

One, Hades, the male with dark brown hair that was swept neatly to the side with a few strands resting freely on the forehead. Seemingly a little more built than the other, eyes stoic with focus on each and every one of your moves with the bottom of his perfectly shaped lips between his teeth. His gaze never failed to make you shudder. The only way to explain would be deadly. 

The other one, Hel. He wasn't all that bad himself. Far from bad. Faded turquoise hair tousled carelessly at the crown of his head perfectly portrayed his exhaustion at work. But that only added as a charm to him as his messed up hair gave him an ethereal look. He'd always have his arms folded over his chest. Almost the same build as the other. A smirk played on his lips each time you'd discard a material from your body and then another. The look was still the same as deadly as Hades'. A little softer and subtle ton of sin hid under his angelic features. Intoxicating would be the right word for him.

You turn towards the owner of the club just as you hook in your hanging diamond earring, fixing the rhinestone choker "What other works?" you ask confused and a little taken aback at the same time. Mr. Kim (who'd asked you on multiple occasions to just call him Doyoung) was the organized and no 'last minute' booking type of guy. If someone wanted him to do something for them they'd have to let him know that at least a week or two prior. Whether it came to booking a private performance, or booking a VIP seat. It had to be done within a week before the actual work. 

"Come with me." he replied calmly with his hands dug into the pockets of his formal jeans. 

 "Yeah, let me just get my masquerade mask-" 

"Leave it behind". You stand in place, still with the motions of rush still going on around you. Leave the mask behind? That'd reveal part of your identity and that definitely wasn't a part of the club. "Huh?"

"It's a private booking, you don't need the mask, doll" Doyoung exclaimed as though he hadn't just failed to let you know of the private booking before the day. "I don't have any private performances scheduled for today, Doyoung" 

"Now you have, darling. I'm sorry but they're important to this club. And to me." with that he whipped his head towards the exit door before nodding at you to follow behind him.

You quickly discard the loose shirt, opting to wear a robe around your outfit before you follow behind him through the dimly lit, sketchy yet posh passage across the club to the section where tiny cabins were situated. 

You jog slightly to catch up with his long strides while clutching onto the rope of your robe. "Who are they? The oh so important people?" you ask from behind him. 

"Mr. Seo and Mr.Qian." 

"Who?" you inquire, face contorted in confusion at the unfamiliar names. "Let's say, You'll see once we get there." he replied, taking a sharp turn towards the more isolated regions of the club. 

You say nothing in reply, silently following him a few more steps before he comes to an abrupt halt in front of one the cabins at the end of the hallway. He knocked twice on the door, reaching out to the door knob twisting it to unlock the door. 

Names of gods of hell was a smart choice.

 There sat inside the room were the two regulars, looking absolutely sinister in clothing as simple as formal work wear. " Ms. Y/ln at your service just as you asked for" Doyoung spoke up first after stepping into the room. Expecting him to call you by your work name, you were once again taken aback at how he regarded you with your last name but did nothing to correct him, instead chose to stand silently beside him.

' Must be important enough to break his own club rules. '

"We'll take it from here, Thanks Doyoung" smiled the brown haired lad, Hades. 

"My pleasure, Johnny" Doyoung nodded at the other in acknowledgment of his presence before turning back facing you, smiling at you with a tilt of his head and a pat at your robe clad shoulder and headed towards the door with that, exiting the room and leaving you in the closed space with the two men. 

You hear the click of the lock from behind you, only now lifting your gaze from the ground as you shift your weight from one feet to another, looking at one male then the other. Your clothing does nothing to help you feel secure under their eyes, strong enough to make you feel bare with two layers of clothing on your body. Weird how you, the confident on stage with at least 50 or more pairs of eyes on you, was now feeling conscious of yourself in front of just two pairs of eyes. 

"Hi, I'm Raven-" you start, finally shaking off the nervousness to get your job started and done with, something about both looking at you as though they'd devour you whole having you shaking the slightest. 

"Y/n, that's your name, hm?" the one, Johnny, or so called by Doyoung, spoke up, interrupting your mid sentence as the blue haired just leaned forward in his seat, his elbows resting lazily on his knees, absolutely loving the way you were taken aback, the same everyday smirk displayed on his feature. 

"Yes. But here in this club, we go by our code names. Please refer to me as Raven, Sir." you reply, stepping out of daze as you tried keeping your tone as polite as possible. "In this room we go by our real names, doll" he finally spoke up, the one beside Johnny. "I'm Kun. That's Johnny. There, we all know each other's names now" Kun, spoke in a smug tone, eyes darkening shades as they roam around your figure. 

"But sir, that's against the rules of our club" you try explaining, only after scoffing in your mind as you recalled back to how the owner himself went against the rule. "Here, Inside these four walls, the rules to be followed are only to be set by us, that's what we paid for, princess" Johnny beat Kun to speaking up. 

"Yes, sir" you reply after a moment of silence as the two males shifted into a more comfortable position on the leather couch. You stood awkwardly beside the pole in the middle of the room, fumbling with the knot at the center of your stomach, trying so hard not to keep a continuous eye contact with them. 

Dangit. What's it with me today? 

"So, will you put on a show for us now or do we have to wait a little more?" Kun asked with his eyebrows raised. 

"Ah! Yes." you reply quick, making fast steps forward towards the corner of the room where the speaker with a remote on top was situated. You pick up the controller and pressed play, a sensual tune immediately vibrating through the speakers, filling the silent room with the tune. You place the controller back on top of the speaker, inhaling sharply before getting into the mood, shaking off all previous nervousness, instead replacing it with a seductional look and a smirk on your face. 

You run your fingers through your hair, intentionally messing it up to make you look even appealing than you already did. You turn towards the front, walking one leg crossing the other towards the pole, circling it, with just your fingers grazing the cold metal as you stare at them one after the other enough to have them hooked at your doings. 

You give them a wink before lifting a leg up with a push, the other rooted at the base of the pole as you clutch tightly onto the pole for balance while your body twirled around the metal, the robe still on.

You continue playing around the pole, ending the pole segment with a drop down to the ground in a rather seductive way. The tune passed half of the song, changing into a much faster beat to which you finally hooked your fingers onto the knot hiding your black lace dress under, slowly undoing it while their gazes got much harder. Your eyes travel lower on both of their bodies, a soft dent forming over the blue jeans making you feel proud. 

The robe now off, you felt bare than ever with just a black lingerie now adorning your body, but you kept going. You stand dead in front of them as they lean back in their seat. 

You move to the beats, feeling yourself finally let loose as the cockiness of all the attention on you got to your head. 

Lost in beats, you let out a yelp of surprise when you feel your wrist being tugged at, making you stumble steps and land onto Johnny's lap. You stare wide eyed at him as the domineering aura he had made you feel small under his gaze. You grip onto his shoulder for support to keep your bottom half from touching his muscled up ones. "Keep going with the performance, darling" and so you did. 

You'd given lap dances before. But that was at a frat party which was forced and half hearted as it was a stupid dare posed by one your friends. So you were a little nervous as the undying want of making them captivated by you strong enough to overpower the nervousness as you lower yourself and get back to moving to the beats. On Johnny's lap this time around. 

Grinding your hips against the latters, you see from your peripheral Kun's head thrown back as he kneaded himself through the material of his jeans, the sight making you whimper softly as you grind harder against Johnny, earning a groan from him. 

The song comes to an end slowly, the beats slowing down the same way your movements did, completely coming to a halt once the music stopped. You were panting slightly, palms resting against his built chest (you can literally feel the indents under your hands) when you feel yourself being lifted, in a swift motion over from Johnny's lap to Kun's with your back facing his front. 

You look up after having your eyes closed in surprise at the sudden motion only to have Johnny close the space between the two of you, Kun's hands finding their way around your waist. Face buried in your neck. The initial shock of a really good looking guy kissing you while the other played with the skin of your neck washed over your body with a jolt. 

Yes, you're loving the feeling. Having the attention of two absolute sinful men, not to mention, good looking ones was heaven. There's no denying that you felt attracted to them. But it went against your club rules, and most definitely against your morals. So you shake off Johnny, placing your hands between your bodies to create some space between the two of you, "I can't -we can't, if Doyoung finds out I'll lose my job, i can't afford that-" you explain as you cower further into Kun's lap at Johnny's strong gaze, feeling like you've just disappointed him. "Then so be it. You can work for us." he leaned in once again, only to be stopped by you for the second time. "No, we shouldn't-"

"No one gets to know what happens inside these four walls and you get to keep your job, how about that?" Kun offered, mumbling into your neck which had you screwing your eye shut at the sensation, "But this is wrong" you try rationalising. 

"Oh darling this is wrong in all the right ways, don't worry" and with that you let yourself relax onto the man's body, Johnny forcing himself onto you once he heard you heave out a tiny 'okay'.

One hand holding you still against him, Kun let his other hand travel up while Johnny pressed his lips against yours in a teeth clashing kiss, not wasting a second to bite down onto your lower lip to have access into your mouth. You groan out at the feeling of hands all over your body as Kun kneaded your breast, lips traveling up your neck, to your ear lobe which be nibbled on, while giving most of his attention in playing with your breast.

Eyes screwed shut, your body fall limp on top of Kun's body the moment Johnny cupped your heat through the material of your lingerie, the only thought you had being 'fuck morals' when this is how good they're making you without even directly giving attention to the parts you need them the most. Johnny pulled away from your lips, a thin trail of saliva still keeping you connected as he applied pressure on the bundle of nerves through the material of your clothing, well, barely covering clothing.

"You have no idea how long we've waited for this, baby girl." Kun whispered against your hair while shifting his attention to the unattended boob. 

You jerk forward when Johnny enters the clothing, now touching you bare. The feeling of his cold fingers against your sex had your head roll back and rest against Kun's shoulder. "That feels good, right baby?" Johnny inquires while using his thumb to apply pressure on your clit, drawing small circles on the swollen bud the same time Kun pinched the sensitive bud of your chest, making you able to only nod your head at the lads question, "Words, baby. Use your words"

The expression on Johnny's face had you thinking better than wanting to disobey him, "Yes!" you moan out at the increase of speed in stimulation as Johnny's other hand helped keep your legs apart. "Yes what, doll?" 

"Yes, s-sir.. " you mewl, feeling a familiar knot form at the bottom of your stomach making your face contort into an expression of pure bliss. "There we go" he cooed, moving his attention from your clit to the entrance, plunging two fingers in straight into the wetness as your sleek wall gave enough access to do so, immediately setting a fast pace, coaxing you to your first high with a shudder in your body.  Johnny kept his fingers moving to help ride out your high while you feel Kun shift behind you, "My turn" 

You feel yourself being lifted off of his lap and placed on the couch. You hiss when you feel Johnny remove his fingers from within you and into his mouth, licking your juice clean off his fingers. But you don't get much time to intake the sight as you feel soft muscles working their way on your now sensitive core. You look down to see Kun buried between your legs. You were probably too dazed to notice him drag your lingerie bottom down and place himself there. 

You whimper as he circled his tongue over your clit while Johnny took his place beside you, kneading himself the same way Kun was a few moments ago. You close your eyes tight at the feeling of Kun's mouth working wonders at your core, a mixture of moans and curses leaving your mouth, "You taste so fucking sweet, baby" the vibrations of his voice sent shocks of pleasure down your core, added to that a finger being inserted into the the messy hole triggered your second high,

 "Kun oh!-"

The sounds of him lapping at your juices made your skin heat up, blood rushing up your cheeks while you choke out a sob at the faint pain you're now feeling at the continuous stimulation. 

"You did so well, baby" Johnny hushes you while Kun still kept going. Johnny caressed your hair, trying to distract you from the aftermath of being overstimulated. 

The feeling being too overwhelming, you finally close your legs over Kun's head, making him come to a halt as he leaned back from his kneeling position. The lighting in the room highlighted the wetness on his chin and lips as you finally got some time to catch your breath.

"Who's going first?" Kun inquired, looking more at Johnny than you while wiping the residue using the back of his hands. Instead of considering giving a reply, Johnny looked at you with tilt in his head and a smirk on his face while you shy away from their gaze. "she'll take both of us like the little slut she is, isn't that right baby?" he asked, a probably rhetorical question while his gaze stayed hard. At the lack of response from your side, Kun took a step forward, bending down slightly, reaching out to clutch your face a soft yet firm grip, forcing you to look at him. 

"Aren't you going to answer him, doll?" 

"Yes, Johnny." you answer, mind a little clouded to think straight but still managed to form coherent sentences, enough to give a proper reply. "The pleasure really got to you, huh baby?" Johnny inquired, standing up while working on undoing his belt, "It's sir for you slut. Get on your knees. Now"

You scramble quick onto your feet, mumbling a silent 'I'm sorry, sir' and dropped down on to your knees, hissing at the slight irritational burn between your legs but had no time to get distracted with it as the lad in front of you placed himself right before you, tugging harshly at your chin to make you look up to his eyes, "I don't think i need to tell you what to do from here, baby. Get to work" And so you did, you were about to reach out to grip the shaft when you felt Kun rub at the skin of your ass, while providing a soothing feeling for a second before you felt his hands come down with force, making you yelp out of shock with your mouth wide open. 

Taking this chance, Johnny let go of your chin, finding comfort in the warmth of your locks instead, pushing himself forward and forcing his hardness into your mouth, groaning at the feeling of your tongue being flat laid out below his member. "You look fucking stunning like this, princess" 

Focused on the sounds coming out of Johnny's voice, determined to pull out more, you start bobbing your head forward and backwards, taking in as much as you could each time you pulse forward. You try relaxing your jaw and focus on your breathing as much as possible, to try and not activate your gag reflex when Johnny's hips start thrusting his hips forward, following the same rhythm as your head making the head hit the back of your throat, sending jolts all over your body. 

Too focused on making Johnny feel good, you fail to notice Kun enter you from behind, slowly pulsing inch by inch into your still sore wetness, catching you by surprise as you let out a throaty moan, spending waves of pleasure up Johnny's body, pulling him closer and closer to his high. 

"How fucking wet." You hear Kun groan from behind you while slowly starting to move his hips once he had completely eased into you, making you lose your rhythm you'd kept for pleasing Johnny, stilling and letting him fuck your mouth instead. 

"She's so fucking wet, John. And wet. You're a little whore for all this, aren't you?" the blue haired lad questioned as though expecting an answer, "you love being used like this, don't you?" 

Too occupied with being stuffed with a cock in your mouth and Kun picking up his pace from behind you, all you could do was lean forward and balance yourself on all four while letting them take care of your pleasure and theirs. 

You feel Johnny's hip stutter, seemingly getting closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. His face contorted in pleasure, seeming desperate to chase his high. The vibrations from your moans and whimpers only dragged him closer, added to the fact how you sucked on his shaft like your life depended on it.

"I'm going to come, baby. You'll be a good girl and swallow all of me, right?" He asked, while buck forward from a rather hard thrust from behind, Kun's groans mixed with yours and Johnny's slightly high pitched ones, along with the sound of skin slapping pulled you close to your high too. 

Unable to answer with being stuffed, you nod your head as much as you could while flattening your tongue out and giving one last hard suck, earning a loud groan from Johnny as he came to a halt, thrusting slowly to empty himself completely in you and partly to ride out his high, you keep your mouth wide open to allow him to do so, while screwing your eyes shut while Kun reached out from beneath you, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves and drawing quick circles on it. 

Once Johnny pulled out, you immediately swallow all of his essence, not wasting a drop of it while letting out a sob when a particular thrust had Kun finding your soft spot, coaxing you closer to your high making you convulse around his shaft, "Open up, babygirl" Johnny tapped at your cheeks, while his chest heaved up and down. You open, showing him that you'd down aa he asked you to, and immediately closed it again, pulling at your bottom lips when Kun's ministration grew faster and hurried on your clit, "I'm so fucking close, baby. So, so fucking close" 

And that was shown by how sloppy his thrusts had gotten. Johnny mumbled out a soft 'good girl' and flopped down onto the leather couch while watching his friend destroy your core. 

You reach your high with a loud cry, closing around Kun even frequently that before as pleasure finally turned into pain, your core practically begging for a breather. Your whimpers, and the constant opening and closing around his shaft threw him off the edge as you felt his member twitch inside you before warm fluid shot up inside your sex. Kun whimpered out praises while slowly pulling out once he'd completely emptied himself inside you, running his hands up and down your back in a comforting manner while Johnny looked at your face. Tears running down your cheeks from the constant stimulation, sweat from previous doings and hair disheveled by his grip on it. Drool rolling slightly down the side of your face while yours and Kun's essence spilled out from your core down your thighs.

You were feeling ecstatic. A warmth from being so full. The feeling could be mistaken as love;

"You're incredible, doll" Kun let out with an airy chuckle while Johnny agreed along

But you knew it was the opposite of it and so did the other two in the room. 

It was the feeling of your desires being fulfilled. 

#kpopscape #wayv #wayv scenario #qian kun #kun scenario #kun fluff #wayv imagine #wayv ff #kun smut #nct kun smut #nct johnny #nct smut #nct johnny smut #seo johnny smut #johnny x reader x kun #qian kun smut #Qian Kun smut #Suh Johnny smut #seo johnny ff #nct ff #nct au #nct preferences #nct preference #nct u smut #johnny scenario #doyoung smut #nct 96'line #nct 95'line #nct kun

[hellowkatey]

Febuwhump Day 8

Prompt: “hey, hey, this is no time for sleep”

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence and injury

Crash at Point Rain

The battle already rages below them as the 212th Attack Battalion descends toward Geonosis. Obi-Wan watches with great trepidation as the ground forces are already deep in the midst of a violent undertaking. The explosions kick up the dusty surface of the bug planet, creating a cloud that obscures his view from seeing anything besides the muted flashes of blaster and cannon fire. 

The Force reeks of death and destruction. If the turbulence of the gunship isn't enough to cause his stomach to turn, the feeling of darkness is. 

"Five klicks to the rendezvous, General!" the message is passed from the pilot. 

"Very good, stay sharp." 

Everything relies on things according to plan. So naturally, everything goes up in smoke. 

A massive explosion next to them causes the gunship to jolt, nearly throwing half the men out the other side of the open ship. Obi-Wan whirls around in time to watch one of their other ships, hit by cannons, violently explode and fall to the ground in a massive fireball. 

Oh, not good, he thinks, because as long as they are in the air, they are practically defenseless. The clunky ships only have so much maneuverability and the dust is too thick to get a proper visual to shoot down the anti-aircraft tech. 

"Take evasive action!" he yells, though his orders are implied. The blast doors are slammed shut, and darkness encompasses the hold. Obi-Wan white knuckles the hand-hold, his heart dropping as the reports begin to come flooding in through his commlink of other gunships having the same issues. 

He would have preferred to never step foot on this Force-forsaken planet again. One time on Geonosis is more than enough in Obi-Wan's opinion, but apparently, the bugs seem to have a significant role to play in all of this. He still remembers the carnage in that arena like it happened yesterday. It still haunts him that all of this could have been stopped had they managed to capture Dooku. 

Instead, Anakin lost his hand, The Jedi lost numerous, and the galaxy received a civil war. 

Cody's voice rings through on his commlink, sharp and frantic. "General Kenobi, don't land! The zone is hot!" 

"But there's nowhere else to go!"

Suddenly, the gunship jolts once more, but this time the horrible sound of durasteel being forced apart and the heat of explosion accompanies it. 

"We're hit, we're hit!" he yells over the alarms that now blare through the cabin. "We're going down!" 

Some troopers fall into the walls as the ship loses control. Obi-Wan can see out the front window from where he stands, and the red sands of Geonosis are very quickly approaching. We're coming in at too hard an angle!

Another shot comes hurdling through the very window, shattering the transperisteel and striking the pilot. There is only time for a gasp of surprise, and then the trooper slumps forward. 

"Brace yourselves!" Obi-Wan screams as the ship takes a nose dive. Gravity is pulling his body off the ground now, and despite his order, he finds himself suspended with only his grip on the strap as an anchor. The Jedi Master flails, trying unsuccessfully to plant his weight anywhere else and get some traction, but troopers are already being thrown at a terminal velocity within the durasteel coffin, pushing him out of any position of security he could manage. 

When the front of the gunship slams into Geonosis, Obi-Wan is torn from the handle. He unceremoniously crashes into the durasteel floor, his forehead bouncing off it with a sickening crack. Darkness clouds his vision, but he holds onto consciousness as the belly of the ship follows close behind in the violent crash. He is tossed into a huddle of other troopers, their armor cutting into the unprotected portions of his skin. Obi-Wan has no idea if up is up or down is up, or how long they have been skidding across the surface of the planet. The pile of helpless men is suddenly thrown in the other direction as the ship seems to slow, but tip onto its side. Obi-Wan, on top of the pile one moment, is hitting the wall again the next. This time, he doesn't have a moment to react before the other occupants of the hold are on top of him. 

The destroyed gunship itself has stopped, but everything still feels like it's spinning. He gasps through the thick black smoke that has funneled into the cabin, trying to move, but the four troopers that are slung across him have him pinned against the wall. His head throbs, his vision is blurred. He can't tell if it's from the smoke or he hit his head hard enough to give him a nasty concussion-- possibly both. 

Through his haze, he hears groans of agony around him. His troopers have not moved since they came to a stop. He can feel their Force presences-- they're dim. Few. Many have perished, and many more are on the way. 

Obi-Wan manages to get an arm free and pushes the clone that lies across his chest to the side. Blood covers the front of his armor where it looks like his blaster got jammed in his throat. He pushes down a wave of nausea and uses his newfound freedom to push another one of his fallen men off his leg. He's weak. Barely able to manage the weight, though he's never had issues before.

"General!" a faint voice calls from the other side of the ship. It takes him a moment to look up, searching lazily across the smokey cabin. A trooper slowly gets to his feet, stumbling over the bodies of his fallen brothers and landing on his knees at Obi-Wan's side. 

"Trapper," he recalls his name. "are you injured?" 

"Not as bad as others. And you, sir?" 

Obi-Wan grimaces as another wave of nausea burns like acid in this throat, and decides to ignore that question. "Help me get free if you can." 

Trapper is able to pull the other two troopers off him before practically collapsing. Obi-Wan pulls him to sit next to him with his back against the wall. "Well done, trooper. Rest now." 

The clone sighs in relief, reaching up and pulling his bucket off, and holding it in his lap. Now that they have settled and the smoke has thinned, Obi-Wan can finally take stock of the damage. 

The walls of the gunship look as though they were crushed between the hands of a giant. It's a wonder it held up the way it did judging by the force of their impact. Bodies of troopers are strewn about. Motionless. The smell of blood and burning flesh is already potent, which is just about pushing Obi-Wan over the edge. 

"Pardon me, Trapper," he says before leaning over away from his companion and emptying the contents of his stomach. He vomits until there is nothing left, and then his stomach still twists, as though even its natural acid must be ejected. Tears spring up in his eyes and his face feels hot and clammy. Obi-Wan has to clutch the wall to bring himself back to his original sitting position. His hands are shaking. He folds them together in an effort to calm them.

His head hurts. It's a dull, radiating pain that encompasses his head and runs down his neck, making his body simultaneously feel like it's crumbling and completely numb. 

He can feel Trapper watching him. "I'm okay," 

"Did you hit your head general?" 

"A better question may be what didn't my head hit." 

It's more honest than he usually is, but Obi-Wan is quickly losing the will to hide it any longer. He is holding back tears that he isn't sure why are trying to force themselves out. He's felt greater agonies, been through worse tribulations.

But the tears don't seem to be sadness. It's difficult to place, but he feels angry? Frustrated? With every passing moment, his emotion seems to change. 

It's exhausting. He's exhausted. Obi-Wan lets out a shaky breath and lets his heavy eyelids fall closed. Though the gunship was dark already, the total darkness is like immediate relief. 

"Hey, general, this is no time for sleep." 

"It sure feels like it," he groans. 

"If you have a concussion you must stay awake to monitor your symptoms, sir." 

"And if I decide to nap?" 

Silence hangs between them for a long moment. 

"I believe there is a chance you may not wake up. Sir." 

As enticing as that sounds in the moment, Obi-Wan forces his eyes open again, rolling his head slowly to the side to look at Trapper. 

"We can't have that, I suppose." 

Minutes or hours later-- Obi-Wan isn't sure-- voices echo from outside and rapid footsteps approach. Not the buzz of Geonosisans nor the clank of battle droids, which is comforting at least. He grips his lightsaber anyway, ready to use it if needed.

Obi-Wan isn't sure of how much help he could possibly be, though. After taking greater stock of his injuries, he is quite sure he won't be able to stand on his own for more than a few minutes, nevermind actually fighting. 

The door of the gunship is forced open and light streams in, causing a flare of pain behind his sensitive eyes. He squints through the daylight until his swimming vision finally focuses long enough to see familiar troopers. 

"Waxer, Boil. Am I glad to see you," he pauses as they run forward to meet them, their gaze obviously wandering to their dead brothers lying about. "Trapper and I are the only ones still alive." 

"Good to see you, sir," They hoist him to his feet, quicker than he probably should have been by the way everything goes black for a few long seconds, but Waxer keeps his arm securely around him as he blinks through it. "Commander Cody's established the square just beyond this position..." a ringing in Obi-Wan's ears drones out the clone's voice, and he winces, squeezing his eyes shut until it passes. "...trying to surround us as we speak, sir." 

Right. The battle. The war. Now out of the ship, he is rudely reminded of the brutality of the ongoing battle that is only made worse by his pounding head. Blaster shots sound as though they are being amplified directly in his ears, and explosions and cannons make his knees feel weak from the light sensitivity. 

Medical is going to have a field day with this, he sighs. 

Though he wants nothing more than to collapse in his bunk for the next week and a half, he reminds himself of the importance of their success. They must recapture Geonosis and take out their droid foundries. 

Obi-Wan pulls the Force around him, releasing his pain and using it to augment his strength. It's a short-term solution-- and something that will get him in deep trouble with the healers if they find out-- but it will do for now. 

There will be time to rest when the war is over. 

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday8 #hey hey this is not the time for sleep #violence and injury #head injury #landing at point rain #obi-wan kenobi #wax #boil #trapper #cody #star wars #tcw

[anonymouslyangsty]

A bit old hat, I know, but imagine the rare nights Takaaki got off on the full moon in the monster au and papa wolf gets to watch over his sweet pup. Imagine when Taka was really really young and he was just a happy squirmy puppy tugging at his dad's ear and flopping all over him meanwhile Takaaki is just a tired ol' wolf who wants to just lay down for a bit.

Bold of you to assume I understand the concept of something being "old hat"

Pre scandal, Takaaki always took full moons off. First of all, it's not like he can function as an officer while he's got wolf brain. Second of all, his wife is not a werewolf, so dealing with an overly excited wolf puppy all night probably would be a bit intimidating.

And intimidating doesn't mean "oh god my son turns into a bloodthirsty dog thing", more of "help I've been playing fetch for 4 hours and I'm so tired". Little Taka is like the most needy little puppy you'll ever meet. You leave him alone for more than 5 seconds and he starts crying. He has the zoomies for seemingly the entire night. It's like a tiny, adorable nightmare.

So Takaaki always takes full moons off. And I feel like a lot of the "uncontrollable amounts of zoomies" is based more on age and personality than being something every werewolf deals with.

Plus being older probably gives Takaaki a heightened control over himself in wolf form. So full moon is less like having two wolves in the house, and more life having a very excited puppy and a wolf that is so smart that he's basically just a human with paws.

Takaaki is a miracle worker as far as his wife's concerned. Not only can he keep up with Taka, but he can actually make the pup calm down. During the full moon, he will spend like 3 hours straight chasing Taka around in the backyard (they probably had a pretty big back yard, son of Prime Minister and all that)

By the time they're done, they're both covered in dirt and Taka's FINALLY worn out. Like "falling asleep on his feet" levels of worn out. Takaaki usually has to carry him back inside.

Then all that's left is to wash a very sleepy puppy, then to wash a tired wolf who misses having hands.

And on the off chance that Takaaki's tired and doesn't want to play with Taka for several hours, there are other methods. If he just flops over Taka (carefully so he doesn't get hurt), the little puppy WILL fall asleep. It's like a breathing, warm, fuzzy weighted blanket that's like 4 times his size. How could he resist?

After the scandal though, things definitely are different. Takaaki's wife leaves (because we have enough dead moms in writing), plus people are far less kind to the Ishimarus. Not to mention that they also have to move to an apartment, so no more running in a big old backyard.

It's not easy having a young child as a single parent with a full time job even on normal days. Takaaki can't afford a babysitter and, even if he could, he wouldn't trust one given the animosity surrounding his family. Takaaki can't stand the thought of leaving his son alone with someone who hates him all day. Though, he worries that's exactly what he's doing when he drops Taka off at school.

But during a full moon? That's even worse. Taka's absolutely not old enough to just calmly sit around. He's going to destroy the apartment, biting furniture and generally making it look like a small tornado ran through. Not to mention that, if he's left alone, he WILL bark. A lot.

Takaaki's already on thin ice with his neighbors. He can't afford a noise complaint. Not to mention that he can't have Taka tearing the house apart. Takaaki only barely managed to convince his landlord that werewolves aren't in violation of the "no pets' rule. He doesn't need to cause a scene.

And even if he wanted to (which he does, desperately so), Takaaki usually can't stay with Taka during a full moon. According to his boss, it's an "abuse of sick days" and "a sign of poor work ethic" for him to take the night off. Not to mention that they honestly need all the money they can get, so even one day off can have a huge impact.

(And his boss offers to pay him extra to work on the K9 team on full moons. It's humiliating and horrible, but they seriously need the money)

Takaaki doesn't have many options. He can't stay with Taka because he has to work. He can't leave Taka alone because they'll get kicked out of their apartment. He can't leave Taka with somebody because there's nobody he can trust not to hurt his son.

So he resorts to drugging Taka on full moons.

It's terrible and he knows it. It's not healthy to suppress a transformation like that. It leaves Taka twitchy and nervous with unused energy for a week afterwards. It's stopping him from becoming familiar with his transformation, which makes it harder for him to control it. It's not fair.

But it's better than being on the streets, or risking someone hurting his son and claiming self defence.

Knowing that it's the best option doesn't mean Takaaki hates doing it any less. He’s terrified that his son will get some kind of dependency on sleeping pills. Or that he'll give the boy too light of a dose and he'll somehow manage to get out of the house. There are far too many people who'd see a dazed, confused werewolf and use it as an excuse to kill him.

What he hates most of all is that it teaches Taka to be afraid of his own transformation. It's not hard to see how anxious he gets when the full moon is near, or how he accepts his medication with the grim tone of a man walking to his death sentence. Takaaki wishes more than anything that his son could be himself without all this fear, but he just can't afford to.

What hurts him the most is that Taka seems to think of the medication as almost a punishment, a consequence for his lack of self control. But Takaaki knows that no level of determination would help Taka control his transformation at his age. It absolutely isn't Taka's fault, but convincing the boy of that is a seemingly impossible task.

And on the extremely rare days when Takaaki does take the full moon off, it's still not exactly safe to leave Taka fully sober. He's not going to be able to keep Taka quiet the whole time, and the whole "sit on him till he falls asleep" trick only worked because Taka was so young.

But still, it's an improvement. He only needs to give Taka half the dose, enough to keep him calm, but not enough to knock him out. At the very least Taka doesn't have to be alone on those nights.

#kiyotaka ishimaru #monster au #takaaki ishimaru #danganronpa #taka #an ask tag

[themagicalmysticalboy]

Rarepair week, george&paul? Angst/comfort maybe? Let it be era? Hurt my soul :)

a/n: you’ve got it babe! i actually did some research for the flashback scene so it’s pretty accurate to reality, according to Ringo’s and some crew member's accounts.

Don’t Let Me Down

For as cold as it had been for the last month, the sun was shining high in the sky. A peculiar sight that brought a hint of warmth to Paul’s face but did not extend further than that. He could be in a summer's day desert and still feel the cold churn in his stomach. Looming tall and strong over him was the Abbey Road studio. The uncharacteristic beams of sunlight lit the many windows with a yellow glint. A million-eyed monster ready to tear him to shreds if he dared step closer. And he did dare. He peeled himself off his car and stiffened instantly. He’d been leaning against the passengers' door so long that when the wind hit his back it sent a shiver right through him. Or maybe it was solely his nerves. Either way, he didn’t plan to dwell on it.

A few Scruffs were waiting outside with paper coffee cups in hand and drink carriers stacked against the wall. So George was in. He had really come back. The cold churn rose to his chest. At this rate, he’d be a human popsicle by lunch.

There was a disjointed chorus of “Hi Paul” and “Good Morning” which he replied to with a courteous wave. He’d been largely turned off by the Apple Scruffs for some time now but there wasn’t really any malice. Having your house broken into was more than a bit off-putting, though. So he felt justified. George was the most tolerant of them, buying them coffees and breakfast foods every so often. They must have missed him while he was gone. Yeah. Surely they did. Because I did. Paul pushed the sentiment to the wayside. They still had an album to make. They still had songs to record and a documentary to be part of. He couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him again. That had only led to an explosion.

Preparing himself with a stiffened posture and pushed back shoulders, he walked into the studio with a smile. It was almost painful to keep up but the cameraman was already in his face and he refused to let on to his nerves. He needed some inkling of control here and there was so little of that to grab hold of these days.

When he walked into the recording room, he found people scattered across the room but he didn’t find John or Ringo. It was still early in the morning so it made sense but he was undoubtedly rattled by the realization, becoming more rattled when he noticed George looking at him. Paul didn’t dare meet his eyes, drifting down to his feet. He looked soft, despite his sharp features. Cozy in his furry boots and warm jumper. He missed looking at that face and touching that body and kissing those lips. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he’d been able to do any of that. Too long.

George gave a thin-lipped smile before turning to Billy Preston at the piano. Was that a good sign or was this small sign of grace feigned for the cameras?

Whatever it meant, it drove Paul mad. He didn’t think he deserved forgiveness but he sure as hell would take it. There was no helping the intrusive memories of the aftermath of George walking out. He had done it so nonchalantly that no one was sure he had actually left until they got to the recording room and found him and his guitar missing.

Something had shifted in the room as soon as the three remaining Beatles looked at each other. John was breathing heavily with an icy glare. There was a glint in his eye that screamed danger. It was focused on Paul. Picking up the bass with a death grip on the neck, Paul just stared John down. There was a mutual understanding in the moment. The rage in both of them was bubbling over more and more by the second.

John yanked his guitar from the rack and they both plugged into the amps. No one seemed to remember the camera crew was still around. They just turned to Ringo, who was already at his drums, drumsticks in one hand, rubbing his eyes with the other. He was pushing so hard it had to hurt. And that was it. John squared up to the mic and began to scream the lyrics to a song they'd already wrapped up but they all threw themselves into it without question. Screaming, banging, and heavy riffs filled the studio. Nothing made sense and every fiber of Paul’s being hurt so much that he didn’t care. He wasn’t alone in the feeling, at least. They all felt some level of hurt.

Ringo was even mad- at the situation or at George or at Paul, it didn’t matter. He banged and slammed away like never before. It sounded so wrong coming from him but at the moment it was the only right thing to do. They sounded perfectly horrible. There was a distinct addition to the vocals and Paul turned to find Yoko sitting on George’s little blue stool, wailing along with John’s screams. Yes. Perfectly horrible.

When the song was up the energy was still poisonous and thick in the air. They weren’t done, not by far. Paul stepped up to the mic and John did not move away. With little notion of what he was doing, he went at the lyrics of another song. The words spat from his tongue with vitriol and fire.

They all needed to scream. Ringo was at the mic at some point, coming up with random words on the spot. Really just to have something to yell about. 

When they finished, panting out the last seething breaths, Paul felt empty. 

“Way to fucking go,” John yelled, eyes fixed on Paul. “Way to go.” his voice was drastically quieter, more tired and sad and hoarse, eyes drifting to his feet.

Paul’s bass suddenly felt a thousand pound heavier, pulling the strap down against his shoulder painfully. Maybe it was more the weight of his mistakes than the bass. Everything felt painstaking and dreadful for the rest of the day. The anger was gone and the screaming was done. There was nothing else to keep his mind from wandering into a wall of depression.

In the present, sans John and Ringo, he shyly grabbed an acoustic guitar and went to sit in a corner. He worked on one of his own songs, quietly strumming and murmuring. He didn’t like it yet, keeping it to himself. The awkward air in the studio only exemplified his need for privacy. So he stayed tucked away, only speaking when spoken to, like a good little schoolboy. George had even come over to ask about the song but Paul told him it wasn’t right just yet. There was no way he was about to embarrass himself on top of all this.

He went back and forth for most of the day. Playing several takes of various songs before turning back to his own song. There was a part on one of the songs that Paul found needed a quieter guitar part. The thought of addressing this issue to George was met with resistance. Was he really ready to address him? The guitar part could be addressed later, maybe. He could suggest another take tomorrow. But the song. It just wouldn’t be right. And maybe no one would be willing to do another take later. That struck a nerve in Paul that rang louder than the rest of his rationale. 

“Maybe,” Paul started, resolving to look directly at George for the first time since he walked in. “The guitar could be a bit quieter next take, y’know? Just sounds a bit heavy.” He tacked on quickly, glancing at Ringo, “The drums too.”

Ringo gave him a pained expression. Paul looked George dead on with a weak smile, though he could see John’s cautioning glare in his peripheral vision. George’s eyes were dark and apathetic. His jaw was set tight.

George Martin came over just when he was about to respond. Oblivious to the tension between them, he clapped a hand on John’s shoulder with a grin. “That was a great take, lads. Why don’t you take a lunch break with the film crew.”

“Wasn’t good enough for Paul,” George huffed, leaving first. “But what is?”

George Martin didn’t hear the remark and walked off to talk with Mal.

“You’re really going to cock it up already?”

“What!” Paul went quickly to his own defense. “It was a suggestion, is all. I’m not treating him with kid gloves just because we had a row.”

“A row? He left the bloody band.” 

“Not being a prick for one day isn’t kid gloves,” Ringo suddenly chimed in.

Paul gaped. “Caring about the songs is being a prick now, is it?”

John huffed an indigent laugh. “You’re painfully stupid.” He left with Ringo in tow before Paul could ask for any clarification. Not that he was sure he wanted any.

Stunned by the attacks, he stared blankly at George’s guitar. He had absolutely none of his friends at his side. He had managed to push them all away when all he wanted, so desperately, was to bring them together. They were slipping through his fingers like grains of sand and all he could seem to do was open his hands to quicken the fall. He’d lose them forever. It was all his fault. How long would it take? When would they figure out he wasn’t worth the trouble?

He just wanted them to be alright. He wanted to go back to how they were and just tour a bit. Play on stage like they all used to love. The band couldn’t rip apart. It just couldn’t because Paul would tear apart with it. And yet here they all were, at wit's end with one another. The connecting link to this free fall was Paul, of course. He had made Ritch leave and then George. It was all too obvious that John wanted out - surely Paul’s fault as well. 

He couldn’t imagine a world without Ringo, John, and George playing at his side. He didn’t want to. It was something new and terrifying that had no qualms with keeping him up at night, even when three glasses of scotch in. He couldn’t recall the last time he slept without drinking. Even still, nightmares filled his dreams and made sleeping seem worthless and just as tiresome as not sleeping at all. What a poor excuse of a man he was becoming.

With a tight chest and burning eyes, he got up. Thankfully, the film crew had truly gone to lunch. He was mostly alone with a few straggling technicians in the booth.

There was no way in hell he could go to lunch now. Not while it felt like the world was out to get him. Not while he felt on the verge of crying. Instead, he decided to go outside for a smoke. The cold winter wind cooled his hot skin. He fell against the wall with a thud and bit his lip. His eyes were pricked with tears but he wouldn’t let them fall. Not here. Not now. 

Dragging a hand down his face, he dove into his pocket and pulled out a spliff he’d rolled that morning for this very reason. His hand was caught on his chin as he eyed the thing. A beacon of hope.

He wasted no more time in lighting it. The earthy taste coated his tongue and warmed his throat. He relaxed on the exhale and repeated the process until his mind was a little numb. The carefree smoke floated high above before disappearing into the brisk wind. It would be so much easier to disappear with it.

“Stay gone too long and they’ll think you quit too.” 

Tension pulled at his neck and traveled down his body. With an involuntary jerk of his fingers, the spliff fell to the concrete. He didn’t look at the newcomer and didn’t need to. The calming drawl could only be from one person.

“So?”

Paul reluctantly turned his head to find George’s steady gaze on him. Words abandoned his brain. “So,” he asked stupidly.

George’s features suddenly dropped and Paul noticed there had been a hint of lightness seconds before. Great. Already cocking it up. 

“Oh, fuck you, then.”

“George! No, no!” He jumped forward and grabbed George’s wrist. “Please, love.”

There was hesitation in George’s step. He shook Paul’s hand off but did not leave. “Do you even care? Care that I left.”

His brow furrowed and his mind swirled back to life. “Of course. We were all-”

“I didn’t ask about the others. Did you care?”

It seemed like such an absurd question. There was nothing to suggest he didn’t. He was downright miserable. Was that not plain to see? Something inside him made him want to switch back on the defense. Deflect and reject. But he couldn’t let himself slip anymore. Everything was on the line now. His entire relationship was up to bat. He’d just be honest. And honesty wasn’t all that hard when your heart wrenched at the thought of this charade continuing for another second.

“Yes! I cared. I thought you’d never come back and I was terrified.” He was desperately searching George’s face for any recognition of belief. “You didn’t answer my calls for weeks and I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. If you don’t I can't even blame you at this point. Just tell me what I did wrong.”

There was no hint of emotion from George. He had a corked brow that could mean anything. The time passing with no answer couldn’t be good. Maybe he wouldn’t answer at all and just leave Paul standing here like an idiot.

“You want to know what you did wrong?” A look of contempt screwed up George’s features. “I don’t even know where I’d start.”

A weight crushed every bone in Paul’s body. He deserved this. He deserved the heartache and pain. The more it hurt the better George might feel. He just had to hold his asinine tongue. 

“You treat me like I couldn’t find writing talent if it bit me in the arse.” Paul tried to interrupt, despite himself, with an explanation. “Shut up and listen!” George moved closer, sizing Paul up. “When’s the last time you took any suggestion I’ve made seriously? You’ve been screaming from the damn rooftop about staying together and getting back to basics yet you sit in your little fucking corner like a punished child, ignoring us to work alone. What’s the point, then? Just to show how much of a pain you can be? You act like you don’t want me- any of us- near your songs and then boss us around on our own.”

George was pulling in unsteady breaths. He leaned forward slightly, really looking into Paul’s soul.

“You weren’t even the one to ask me back. Had Ritch do it for you, you coward.” George pushed him into the wall and Paul took it. “And you have the gall to ignore me! Even when I came to you like a stupid loyal puppy! That’s how you see me, isn’t it? Your little puppy that you get tired of when it makes too much noise. Well, fuck you and your damn songs. Fuck whatever you think you’re doing. You’re not keeping us together and you never could.”

Just punch me. The thought was screaming at the forefront and wouldn’t settle. Too angry with himself to stop, he yelled back, “Don’t you think I know? I see everyone slipping away and turning from me and all I can do is push you further! No matter what I try or how good I think I’m doing, you’ll just leave me out cold.” Caught up in it all, he shoved George back. “And you’re not a puppy! You’re my mate. You’re- I love you, alright.” 

His voice cracked and, god, he was crying. He was actually crying and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Really just didn’t think you’d come back if I asked. And if that makes me a coward then sure. That’s what I am. If being a coward is what I need to have you near, fine.”

A muscle in George’s jaw tightened. He was stiff and his eyes were damp. His voice was so soft when he said, “Why didn’t you look at me? When you walked in you wouldn’t even really look at me. And when I tried to talk you just buried your head in your notebook.” He laughed mirthlessly. ��But as soon as you have an issue with a song you go in with those big eyes of yours and I don’t want to hate you. It’s not fair.”

“You’ve said it, y’know. I’m a right coward. Scared to lose you if I speak and losing you just as fast when I don’t. Shouldn’t have turned you away. I shouldn’t have ignored you. The song- the stupid song. Don’t know if I even cared about how loud your guitar was. I just wanted to look at you, I think.”

“Looking at me now, aren’t you?”

And he was. They had been staring relentlessly and it felt good, no matter how much yelling they’d done. He wiped harshly at his cheeks to clear them of tears. “I’m sorry for being a prick.”

“Aye. You should be.” The words might have hurt if the corners of his mouth didn’t twitch up. He rubbed Paul’s shoulders and arms. “Just talk to me, okay? I won’t disappear, I promise.”

His smile was sad but genuine. All Paul could ask for. He nodded but then realized he already missed the point. “Okay,” he voiced. “Talking. Always been my strong suit.”

George’s smile grew and he pulled Paul into a hug. He hugged back fiercely, balling his hands up in George’s jumper.

“I don’t deserve this.” The words weren’t meant to leave his mind but they seemed to come of their own accord. 

George moved him back and Paul almost pulled them right back together. “What do you mean?”

Bringing a hand up to caress George’s cheek, he tilted his head. “I don’t deserve to have you. Don’t deserve to have this band. Wouldn’t you be better off without me? I’m just here to cock it all up.”

“You… really mean that, don’t you?” With a shaky breath, George brought him back into the hug and gently held Paul’s head to his shoulder, petting down his hair. “No matter what happens to the band, it’s not because you don't deserve to have it. It’d be because we all need space, alright?” He held Paul a little closer. “And you don’t get to decide if you deserve me. That’s my decision.”

Paul nestled into the crook of his neck, scared to ask but not willing to keep it back. “And you think I do?”

“No. No. I just fancy hugging people I hate.”

Paul smiled into his neck. “Arse.”

#beatlesrarepairweek #mcharrison #mcharrison fanfiction #the beatles #George Harrison #paul mccartney #John Lennon #Ringo Starr #the beatles fanfiction #the beatles one shot #the beatles rare pair week

[satsuki2406]

OPEN SKY Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

“…And never, ever forget that, your dreams are the wings that’ll help you fly.”

(L/N)(Y/N) has always been forced to live according to others’ expectations. As a member of the powerful and influential (L/N) Family, she has had to live with the heavy weight of seeing others write her destiny with no choice but just obey. But when (Y/N) finally decides to risk it all to take the only opportunity to regain the control of her own life, everything ends up going horribly wrong. Surrendered and disappointed, she receives one last chance to prove to herself and to U.A, along with some unexpected help that this was not a crazy and meaningless waste of time.

Maybe this plan could work after all…

PAIRING: (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

GENRE/WARNINGS: Romance, Fluff, Angst, Mentions of sex (nothing explicit tho), dark themes, My poor attempt of comedy, family dysfunctionality, toxic relationships, Strong language (Courtesy of King Lord Explosion Murder 💥), Manga Spoilers.

STATUS: On going

Masterlist \(￣︶￣*\))

5-Let's Get Things Straight

“Well, enough of this awkward little chit chat, let’s get to the point, shall we?”

You immediately tensed at hearing her words, nerves twisting your stomach. Kaguya propped her elbows over the table and interwoven her fingers to lean her chin over them. Her violet eyes, cold and unperturbed landed over your trembling (E/C) ones.

Your grip in the carte tighten just like the muscles in your throat making it hard to gulp the lump forming in your suddenly dry mouth. Seconds felt like hours and for a moment you could feel the air being knocked out of your lungs out of sheer uncertainty.

Although inexpressive, Kaguya’s gaze was intense and petrifying, making sweat accumulate around your collar by the second. You kept like this for a couple of seconds until her stoic expression slowly morphed into an amused one as her eyes slowly squinted and a smirk formed on her plump, glossy lips.

“My, my, are you afraid little cousin? Am I making you uncomfortable in any way? My deepest apologies, I’ve been said that I can make people a little… wary.

“Of- Of course n-no, or is there a reason I should?” You mentally scolded yourself for stumbling on your words, biting your lower lip to keep it from trembling.

“Absolutely not! You shouldn’t! The simple fact that you think I’m remotely capable of attempt to harm you in any way certainly pains my poor heart little (Y/N)~” Kaguya admitted while making a dramatic pose clenching the left side of her generous chest and posing the back of her hand over her forehead to accentuate her ‘hurt feelings’.

“But, you know…” She pondered, her voice taking a more low and dark tone, a harsh contrast to the honeyed voice she used before.

“…There’s a reason why people say that ‘if you own nothing, fear nothing’ don’t you think?”

“What are you trying to imply Kaguya? Stop batting in the bush already.” You snapped trying to hide your fear with impatience and irritation in an attempt to reassure yourself that you still had control of the situation on hand, or at least you tried to.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, calm down (Y/N), I’m just playing with you, believe it or not, I have a playful side, no need to overreact that way, unless…You have something to hide? Hmm? Oh! I’m dying to know! Is goody-two-shoes (Y/N) tangled in some scandalous event that none can know about? Is it a boy? Did you overdraw your credit card or… did something in your academic life happened recently?”

At this last statement, your breath hitched and your blood ran cold. ‘No! Why did she know?! How?! No way!’ You slowly looked up to Kaguya again, a smug expression on her face, she had you cornered, just where she wanted, deny it was useless at this point, your reaction had sold you immediately, at this rate there was not so much that you could do. You were not willing to let her have her way with you, if you really wanted to flip the tortilla on your favor, you’ll have to be bold. So, this was the game she wanted to play? Then two can play as well.

You looked down again, your eyes covered by your bangs, and a little smirk forming in your lips.

‘Smile, and your enemy won’t know what you’re thinking about’

Kaguya noted this and her mischievous smile flattered a little.

“As scandalous as have an affair with your bodyguard and being overheard while performing such lewd acts by a big number of my house’s maids during the Charity Brunch that my mother organized last summer, no, I can assure you nothing of this nature is happening with me. And I may confess that although that bathroom was thoroughly cleaned, I haven’t been able to use it since you ‘christened it’ it results really inconvenient to go all the way to next washroom.”

At this point, Kaguya’s snarky expression abandoned her face completely being substituted by one of shocked disbelief. Her eyes trembled and you could hear the clatter of her teeth.

Before she could retaliate your ‘outrageous accusations’ Hiro reentered the patio where you were, pushing an elegant looking cart carrying a silver platter, a pitcher, a couple of crystal cups, and fine-looking silverware.

“Sorry for the delay ladies!” Hiro said while he put the cups on the table and poured water in them, Kaguya and you kept eye contact the whole time, she was visibly livid, with her arms crossed over her chest, her fingers tapping frenetically over her forearm waiting for the waiter to leave. Lastly, he served the plater in the center with some colorful looking canapes and smaller plates for each of you.

“To begin, I brought one of the newest additions to our menu, Salmon and Caviar Crostini, we started with our fabulous homemade French Baguette grilled to perfection, slightly brushed with high quality Spanish extra virgin olive oil, Norwegian smoked salmon, fresh avocado slices, a little dollop of Crème Fraiche topped with 100% authentic Beluga Caviar and a sprinkle of thyme and dill to perfume and decorate. I hope you enjoy them, now, would you like to begin with some drinks before you order?”

“White Bordeaux, Cheval Blanc 1942” Exclaimed Kaguya.

“Sure thing, one cup of White Bor-”

“No, the whole bottle, something tells me I’ll need it” She sneered, her eyes always fixated on you.

“O-Of course, and for you (L/N)-sama?” Hiro asked with a nervous smile now conscious of the pretty evident tension in the room.

“Umm, do you have Thai lemonade?”

“Yes of course! Would you like it iced or frappe?”

“Frappe please.”

“Alright, a White Bordeaux and a frappe Thai lemonade…” Murmured Hiro while he finished scribbling on his notepad. “Please, enjoy your appetizers, your drinks would be ready soon” And just like that he took the same bar cart he came with and strolled away as soon as he could from what seems to be the eye of a hurricane.

“T-Thank you” You shyly muttered while you saw him disappear in the hallway. When you turned again to glance at your cousin, her face was now bent over, her expression unreadable and the upper part of her face shadowed by her hair. The aura she emended was dark and dense.

You gulped, noticing her now obscure presence, you fidgeted your fingers over your lap thinking how to approach the situation now. Did you go too far? If she knew about the U.A situation it wouldn’t be a good idea to be on her bad side, should you apologize? Maybe it would be the best approach since-

“You really like to run your mouth, don’t you?” She suddenly whispered; it was barely noticeable but you could hear it clearly as it interrupted your ramping thoughts.

In the blink of an eye she abruptly studs up from her seat charging towards you, her left hand was slammed against the table for stability while the other one quickly found a place over the soft skin of your cheek with a resonant slap. Before you could start to process what just happened, she gripped your bangs bluffly bringing her face closer to yours.

You gave her a brief glance when you felt her scalding breath on your face, even with the thick layer of tears distorting your vision, the terrifying scene was bright and clear, her eyes were livid and insane, you always knew she had a temper but this was a completely different level.

“You really must be feeling gutsy, today don’t you?! Do you think you can smart mouth me? Yes, I’ve been having sex with Soichiro, and?! Like I was the first or last to have a liaison in this family or this so-called elite circle. Unlike my stupid, stupid father I know how to handle my personal life, do you really think the hag cares who I get into my bed? You really are naïve or just straight up​ stupid if you think you can threaten me with such a weak move like that.”

Her tone was abrasive and mocking, agitated at some parts but in a whole, confident. Simultaneously, you gripped her wrist in a poor attempt to loosen her iron grasp in your now sore scalp.

“You on the other hand are immersed in a really big pile of shit, and the most comical of all is that you put yourself in it! Did little (Y/N) wanted to play hero? Being just like that showoff media clown All Might? Ha! How amusing!”

“-ver…” You mumbled.

“Huh? Talk properly when you are addressing me brat!” In cue, your hold on her wrist tighten up and your foggy eyes looked at her with newfound courage.

“Never dare to talk like that about All Might! The only reason you and all of us can have this peaceful and safe life is because of him.” You clenched your teeth furiously to the point you thought they would break. “So, spear me your bull and shut up already.” You both kept an intense starring contest until Kaguya’s hard expression broke and stared at you with an amused and more relaxed expression, she pushed you to your seat, finally releasing your abused locks. You carefully pated it down trying to relieve the pulsating soreness in your scalp.

“Well, well, well, who would have said that you could have a bite on you, huh? You’re not the spineless puppet I thought you were after all.”

Now your attention was directed towards the sound of approaching wheels, probably belonging to the same cart that Hiro brought minutes ago. Hastily you tried to accommodate your hair and uniform the best you could, the last thing you wanted was more rumors or gossip going around speculating nonsense like usual. Quickly you gave a glance to your cousin who quietly munched on one of the canapes and sipped on her water cup.

Hurriedly, you took a couple of the overpriced pieces of toasted bread on your plate and took some gulps of water to calm your nerves.

“Oh! I see you are enjoying the hors d'oeuvre!”

“On point as always Hiro, thank you.” Kaguya said while she delicately cleaned the corner of her lips with her napkin. “I’m pleased to hear that, what about you little lady?” Hiro addressed you while he poured the exquisite golden liquid inside the wine bottle in Kaguya’s awaiting cup.

‘Little lady?’

“O-Oh, really tasty indeed, my compliments to the chef.” You just had a bite of it, it was well balanced and everything, but…simply not your piece of cake. You preferred something less complicated and more…homey.

“I’m sure that he’ll be happy to hear that, now, are you ladies ready or you need more time?”

“I’m ready, but, I’m craving something different from what I usually order, what can you recommend?” Kaguya said. Their words at this point transformed into white noise as you got lost in your own thoughts, to be honest, you weren’t even hungry at this point but you were sure you’ll regret it at 2 am when your growling stomach won’t let you rest quietly. But beyond that, what actually concerned you was that in fact, she knew. So, what was her propose? Blackmail sounded the most plausible, but what could she actually get from you?

“(L/N)-sama? Are you ok?”

“O-Oh! Yes, I’m ok! Can you repeat yourself please?”

“I was asking you if you were ready to order?”

“Right! The food! Can I…umm…the-the seafood fettuccini please.”

“Alright! A roast quail in truffle sauce and a seafood fettuccini coming! If you need anything please press the red button on the right side of the table and I’ll be glad to assist you.”

You both nodded as he retracted in the hallway once more.

“So,” Said Kaguya while sipping on her wine. “as you can imagine I didn’t bring you here out of my good will. Apparently, some little audacious punk decided to throw any precaution overboard and apply to Japan’s most prestigious hero school, instead of following the way that her family already had arranged for her, a guaranteed place of work, a generous wage, an empire already constructed for her to take and keep her cushioned, pampered life. So, tell me, make me understand dear cousin, why throw everything to the wind and complicate everything going the hard way knowing your percentage of success is of less than one in a googol?”

“I’m doing what I feel is the right thing for me, following my own dreams and ambitions, not what is convenient or easy, as you said, I do not pretend to be a spineless puppet like the rest of you.”

“Ok, ok calm down. I’m going to humor you for a second about this illogical, dream nonsensical gibbering you are talking about. You apply to this U.A school, and become a hero, help people and all those unnecessary details, you make your dreams come true and you live happily ever after beating up villains with luck enough to don’t die in the process, the end.” Kaguya slowly swirled the cup in her hand while she talked to you not breaking eye contact.

“But tell me, how in the hell do you pretend to even start this little dream of yours if you don’t even have your mother’s or even better, grandmother’s approval? As you already know she has control over everything that happens with every single one of us. Chess pieces that she plays according to her own convenience, do you think we would be what we are today if everyone would have done what they liked and follow their own passions and ambitions? I think you know the answer.” She took one last sip emptying the cup and placed it on the table to fill it again. “Yamashita Takahiro, does that name ring a bell to you?” Kaguya asked.

“Yes, he was an ancestor of us, the one who started everything, the first doctor.”

“Precisely, he was really famous and reputed back in the Meiji period, he even was one of Ogata Kōan’s last students before he passed away in 1863. After that, his son became a doctor, and his son, and the son of his daughter, and so on.”

“In 1939 they founded a small clinic in Yokohama that grew with time extending and expanding in different locations throughout Japan, out shadowing all the other small hospitals and health institutions with their outstanding service and effective methods. We were the first ones to offer free treatment to poor people who couldn’t afford decent health care. That of course is still being reflected in all our foundations and payment help systems like the (L/N) Foundation and The Healer Charity, just to mention some." Kaguya said matter of factly.

“Yes, I already know that, grandmother made sure to drill it inside our heads as soon as we could walk, not to mention that it is part of Japan’s history as well. So, your point is?”

“My point is, we are huge, (Y/N), we have over 160 years in business, even before quirks appeared over 120 years ago. It gives us credibility, reputation, experience, and medical and moral authority above all the others. An image that grandmother exploited to transform us in what we are today, and reach our own Golden Age. But, some rumors have been circulating in the media recently. More like a leak of information.” Kaguya murmured with a sour but serious expression.

“You mean…?”

“Yes.”

“Well, they aren’t rumors, they are truth. Grandmother has forced us to do what she saw fit in order to keep the party going; a multimillionaire, successful, and pretty lucrative party. As you said we are chess pieces that she moves according to what the situation requires. And force us to study medicine and control our lives in every way possible is definitely one of her master moves.”

“Yes, but the general public does not need to know that, the right pressure would bring that party down. It, of course, started as something really mild, insignificant even. Some little urban legend running down on the internet brought to light by some blogger on 4chan or Reddit user. But it has been getting out of control the last week." She said irritated.

“So anyway, because of this problem, grandmother decided to make some exceptions, she would maybe make a couple more in future years, it depends.” You immediately stopped mid-air when you were about to take another sip of your lemonade.

“What do you mean with exceptions?”

Kaguya smirked mischievously at your reaction, delighted that she pushed the right buttons so easily.

“Well, I think you and I know what I mean (Y/N), Your so wanted chance to be a hero, without no one to stop you, not your mom, not the bossy hag, all to the contrary! They would be the very ones to encourage it, giving you the wings to reach what you wanted all your life! But for that to happen, you’ll have to work with me, we only have 3 days to prepare, so the time is an important fact in this.

So, my dear sweet cousin, do you accept or not?

.

.

.

🏷Taglist:

@bakasbitch18  

@alex-sulli​

#bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia fanfic #my hero academia fanfic #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #bnha #mha #bakugou #bakugo #fem reader #angst #fluff #Multichapter #series #female oc #male oc #dysfuntional family #frienship to love #shinso needs more screen time #yaoyorozu #momo #yaomomo

[vaire-gwir]

Some Cat and Wolf fanfic I had in mind pt.4

I wanted to write why Aiden didn’t kill humans anymore, so here it is, I tried. At least it can’t be worse than that horrible attempt at smut, right? Right? 

Everytime I think I’m finished with this I get new ideas and I have to write them or they keep me up at night. There is plot if you squint, still not canon, but as always, I hope it makes sense and you like it <3 

Edit: Sorry I forgot the title, you wouldn’t believe how stupid I am. 

***

Alps were a bit of a pain in the ass to kill, just like every other vampire. Tricky, loud, and cunning things they were, not incredibly dangerous but granted to give you a good rattle and one hell of a headache. Years ago, he shared his first kiss with Aiden after they cleaned a nest and now he thinks about it every time he's disposing of one. It's weird, cause who would think of sharing a first kiss in front of a pile of dead vampires, but it was one of his best memories.

Then again, the first time he told Aiden he loved him, the Cat was almost dead in a grimy cave, covered in blood, and Lambert was panicking cause the gash under his ribs was bad enough that no potion in the world would buy him the time to find a healer.

Toussaint didn't disappoint him: three days after arriving in Beauclair and he was already waiting for 200 easy crowns. The prospect of payment should be enough to lighten his mood, but his mind is elsewhere, namely on the black cat running around the garden he saw last night before entering the crypt where the Alp was praying on ladies and princesses. Another cat, another pair of stunning green eyes, another painful twist in his heart. He even asked the guard currently stationed outside about it and the idiot said there were no cats on the property, something about ruining the lawns or whatever, as if Lambert didn't see the animal with his own eyes.

It was the second beast with disturbingly familiar green eyes that he saw, and it's two cats more than what he had seen in months. Lambert wasn't even sure if he was hallucinating or if the boy was making fun of him when he said there were no cats. Maybe both. Is this what happens to people that go mad, they start seeing things, they hear voices, and next they're wandering in villages alone at night muttering nonsenses? 

Is this what is going to happen to him, he'll start seeing cats with green eyes everywhere and people will pity him? He was already hearing voices in his dreams, this was just one step further toward insanity, and the path to get there looked suspiciously short.

Lambert picks himself and his headache up from the tomb and walks to the marble arch covering the entrance of the crypt, where an over-enthusiastic guard is waiting for him, hopefully with his money.

"So, is the beast dead? You must have been very brave!" Lambert would laugh if his bones weren't aching so much. He knows that look: he's too young to know that what witchers do has nothing to do with bravery. Even the night before with all his questions he made the job sound fascinating and charming, probably someone didn't explain to him the difference between Witchers and knights in shining armor. He was hoping to see a hero but all he got was a dusty, cranky and hallucinating witcher with the beginning of a headache throbbing in his skull. Not exactly the heroic stuff fairytales are made of. There was nothing charming about this life.

Lambert ignores the voice and grits his teeth at the sudden burst of light and sound that overwhelms him as soon as he steps onto the paved path that leads to the house. Being subjected to the creature's horrible shrieks and screeches for half of the night has his nerves fried and now everything is too loud and too close even if it's barely past dawn. He wants to hear nothing but blessed silence for the entire day or he's going to seriously hurt someone.

"I'm curious, have you been here before?" Lambert starts moving in the general direction of the mansion chasing the promise of quiet and the soldier scrambles after him. He's still staring expectantly, as if he thinks he's owed something.

It annoys him, that for one reason or the other people are gawking all the fucking time. He learned to disregard it with experience but he never fully discovered how to ignore the stares. His brothers get them too, and he knows for a fact that it often bothers Eskel, but for reasons unknown to him, Geralt never seems to give a fuck. He's slightly jealous of that talent. He'll see them next winter if he's not completely out of his mind by then.

When they finally leave behind the crypt where he just killed the Alp, Lambert has regained enough presence of mind to check the garden again, hoping to catch a glimpse of the black cat he saw earlier but it's like the feline has disappeared from the face of the earth. 

The luxurious garden that surrounds the old house is perfectly still, the gardeners are not at work yet, the only note is the faint buzzing of birds. He tries to catch any sound or scent resembling the one he felt before but it's like the cat was never here. Probably he wasn't. What if there was no cat at all and his mind was just playing more tricks on him? He's not sure Witchers can go insane, he can't recall any lore on mad witchers, but maybe he'll be the first one, just his usual luck. He tunes out the noises around him, trying to detect a trail of the animal when the voice of the guard breaks his concentration again: "You have been here before, haven't you?"

Regular people seemed to have a hard time shutting up, he should know this after an entire winter with Geralt's bard, the Gods know he never kept quiet for more than 10 minutes unless he was sleeping. Maybe he even talked in his sleep, go figure. It's not like he asked Geralt. 

"I've been everywhere. Listen, I'll take what I'm owed and leave. Got things to do." Lambert answers this time just to make him shut up. No one needs to know that the things he has to do include tracking down a disappearing black cat. That is if there was one at all.

"Oh, of course, you must be very busy. Here it is, though I think my Lord wanted to see you tonight, throw a feast for the Court, but if you insist you can't stay it's better to..." "I can't." Lambert takes the velvety pouch and stuffs it in his pack, eager to put some distance between himself and the rambling man before him. He knows all about feasts in Beauclair, he suffered through them enough for a couple of lifetimes already. 

He's about to turn away when the guard exclaims: "Wait, I remember! You were working for Lord Launfal with the other Witcher, green eyes, very pretty thing, if I say so myself, you..." He makes a pitiful weak noise as he doubles over himself, words dying upon his lips as blood trickles from them. Lambert is on him in a second and pins him to the nearest wall, he's not thinking about anything except that he wants to hurt him. Before he knows, he's hitting him again and again, driven by some fucked up instinct kicking in cause this idiot is talking about his best friend and he has no right to do so, especially not in that way. He doesn't get away with describing the best person in his life as a pretty thing, not in front of him, not like that.

"Shut your damn mouth, you don't fucking know what you're talking about!" He can hear the faint sound of a bone breaking over the boy crying "Please," and "Stop," and spares a look at the bloody mess he made of his face. He lets go of him as if he's been burned and he sees the guard collapsing to the ground. He fucked up. 

He feels like his mind is swimming and he can't focus on anything but the blood on his hands. He stares at the unconscious form slumped against the wall and takes a step back, streaks of red marking the gray stone. Lambert knows he went too far. His hands moved of their own accord when he realized that man was talking about Aiden. A pretty thing, he said. Lambert can't tell why those words were so painful, but it felt like pouring salt into an open wound. 

Of all people in the fucking Continent he had to run into someone that remembered him, of course, he had to meet a guard that was here the last time he was in Toussaint with Aiden, cause apparently the universe, chaos and the Gods were having a field day of messing with him. Again.

He spares one more glance to the guard just to make sure he's still breathing, collects what he's owed and leaves in haste. When the boy wakes up and tells everyone what happened Lambert knows he won't be spared. He almost killed that stupid boy, not much he can do about it now. He just wanted him to shut up and stop talking about Aiden, the fucker didn't even remember his name. 

He's past the iron gates when he finally manages to stop his hands from shaking. It scares him how dangerously good it felt for a couple of minutes to make the man shut up, it scares him to the point he just wants to forget it happened. For a short time, he felt like he had complete control over something, and that was rare for him. He enjoyed being in charge, knowing that whether that man lived or died was in his hands, it was like playing God and winning. It was like having a choice.

He may have a couple of hours before someone decides to hunt him down, which is plenty of time to find work. Before taking the Alp contract Lambert overheard in a tavern not too far from the market about an archespores problem in the valley where a certain Lord keeps his precious vineyards. With a little bit of luck he can go back to the main square and someone will point him in the general direction of this new Lord's palace. He just needs a few hours, and then he'll have the perfect excuse to stay out of Beauclair for a while.

***

Lambert prefers the nights when sleep eludes him, they're more peaceful than the ones filled with ghosts and blood, or as close to peaceful as he can get. He was never very good at meditating like his brothers, something about how his stupid brain would not shut up long enough for him to fall into a proper state of reverie. Both Eskel and Geralt never had any problem with that, he had seen Geralt kneeling in the same spot without moving until morning, absolutely unbothered by anything that happened around him, as if he was in his own world. 

In a patient attempt to help him, Eskel told him once that meditation works better if you try to recall a state of peace or calm you already experienced and lose yourself in it. Peace and calm was not something Lambert ever experienced, at least not back then. Not before Aiden.

The room he's currently occupying is surprisingly comfortable, he even had a bath, but his brain still refuses to relax. Finding his next contract proved a little more complicated than he expected, he wandered around the narrow streets for a good while before arriving at the indicated house, growing more anxious by the hour, expecting someone to chase him down at any turn of the road. Luckily the man he found outside a heavily guarded black gate was the old farmer in charge of the orchard, and he was as eager as him to go back to the valley. 

Lambert joined him on the trip, but he instantly disliked the place: whoever needed that much security was not just a simple vineyards owner. Thank Gods the old man was not the chatty type, and they reached the old castle in silence just before nightfall. When they arrived the farmer pointed to a small house next to the main castle, told him to find an empty room and disappeared immediately after. Lambert was grateful for the silence.

He washed the blood and the dust out of his clothes but he couldn't wash the feeling of it from his hands, his ears still ringing with the sound of some bone cracking as he hit that stupid man just for talking about Aiden. 

Lambert feels weary and worn but it's not because of the vampire last night. It's not the monsters that tire him: killing is easy, but the rest, traveling, talking, living and functioning in a world where he has no place, it all leaves him drained, that type of bone-aching exhaustion that's beyond physical, it keeps you awake even if you're spent and it gnaws away at your nerves.

He still can't figure out why Aiden would go after (possibly) two griffins all on his own, the Cat was careless and a bit reckless but not completely stupid. He was pretty smart about his work, he had to be, all things considered. Aiden was the one that at the beginning insisted on how they should stick together just because some jobs were easier that way. 

Besides, he was supposed to spend the last week before spring traveling north with the Caravan. There was no deep sympathy between Aiden and most of the other Cats, cause many were not particularly pleased with his decision to stop taking contracts on humans, but traveling together was still supposed to be safer. Lambert tried for days to put the pieces together but the more time he spends thinking about it, the less everything makes sense: Karadin told him he was there when it happened, but he finds it hard to believe he killed the two monsters all on his own. 

Lambert remembers one winter Eskel and Coën went off to fight a pair of griffins in the mountains and they came back three days later, bloody and with a good amount of soon-to-be-scars that needed to be patched up immediately, a broken shoulder (Eskel) and four cracked ribs (Coën). He had seen what griffins can do to experienced Witchers, there was no way a Cat the same age as him disposed of two monsters like that without any serious injuries. He even had time to take the medallion! And if it was not just the two of them, how did Aiden sustain wounds that couldn't be fixed by two or three other witchers for the short time it took to get to a healer? Griffins were only dangerous to humans when they ventured past the mountains and closer to the villages, which meant they were not too far from the possibility of getting help.

His brain keeps churning an explanation, keeps conjuring up different scenarios but nothing he can think of leads to Aiden's death.

Lambert knows Aiden killed people too, but most importantly he knows why he stopped. They both found out very early in their relationship that confessing things in the dark, naked and hidden by the blankets, worked for them. They could say whatever was on their mind and come morning things were still fine between them, they could look at each other's in the eyes without shame, cause things said in the dark were like spirits disappearing with the sun, they couldn't hurt them anymore. The ghosts of their pasts and their fears had been there, and now they were gone, chased away with burning lips and soft touches. It was during one of those nights that Aiden explained why he couldn't kill humans anymore.

They were back at the inn after killing a striga but two innocents died and Lambert knows Aiden blamed himself, he could feel how shaken he was in the way his kisses were almost too harsh and he was tearing away at their clothes. Aiden tastes of something almost-burnt when he's angry, but much later, when Lambert hides his face in the crook of his shoulder, sore in all the right way even if he'll never admit out loud that Aiden fucks him even better when he's like that cause he's less gentle, the taste is gone, and only the honey remains. That's when he can start talking.

The Cat told him that he was fine with being considered a monster by everyone else as long as he didn't feel like that. He was just doing his job and it was not his fault people were too judgemental and prudish to accept that, it's not like he asked for a mage to play with mutagens and mess up his blood. He woke up one day outside of Stygga and he was too young to have any memories of how he arrived there. 

He didn't remember his family, or where he was born, his first memories were of the Cat School, there was nothing before that. He liked to say he had no past, but everyone has it, and they're usually running away from it. And no future too, cause there were not many options for a witcher. Still, not his fault the same people he worked for, the same ones that begged him to get rid of a monster or paid him handsomely for killing a problematic cousin, were also the first ones to throw stones at him or ask a Lord to imprison him cause he was a danger for the town. Not so much of a danger when they needed him for their dirty deeds. But people were quick to forget and even quicker to point their fingers, and after so long Aiden couldn't find it in himself to care anymore. 

He didn't feel like a monster just because they said so. But he certainly felt like a monster for killing innocents. He was taking away their choice just like a mage took away his. He was no better than the people he despised so much.

It all started when he was sent to kill Lord Darnay cause his own family decided he was no suitable successor to the name and heritage they represented. Aiden was presented with 1000 crowns to get rid of the unwanted heir, and he was not in the position to refuse. His last contracts were unsuccessful, he had run out of money weeks before arriving in town and now even his potions were running low. It should have been an easy job, kill a dumb Lord who probably never hold a sword in his life. It should have been easy, but that's not what happened.

Right after entering the royal chamber, Aiden faced a wide-eyed kid staring at him. He was no older than 7, maybe 8 years old, but he was not terrified, a little surprised yes, but not scared as everyone would be after seeing a stranger entering through their window. No one mentioned that this Lord Darnay was a fucking child! There was absolutely nothing in the world this boy could do to represent a problem, for anyone, he was barely old enough for school for fuck's sake. 

The knife in his hand felt like lead rather than silver. The room was utterly silent, Aiden looked at the kid expecting him to scream, but he didn't. He simply said: "It's my turn now?" Aiden stared back disoriented, he refused to believe this kid understood why he was there.

"Uncle sent you?" His throat was not fully cooperating and he had a hard time finding the words to answer, he nodded, the dagger in his hand felt heavier by the minute. The kid sitting up on the huge bed keeps worrying a loose thread in the blue blanket above him, he speaks as if he's confessing a terrible sin. "He doesn't like me. He did something to my father but I'm not supposed to speak about it. Dad was very brave. Are you brave?"

Brave, as if! He was sent to slit his throat, that was not bravery. Brave means you have a choice, he never had one. He could choose between Ghouls and Bruxae and humans for his contracts, that's how far his decisions could go. He could pick whether to stay with the Caravan and risk being killed with his brothers or he could travel the Path alone and be killed by a monster or zealous townfolks. At best, he could decide how he dies, certainly not how he lives. No one with a real choice would turn into what he is or do what he does. 

In that room with the boy, in the deep silence of the night with a sliver of moonlight illuminating their surroundings, Aiden felt like a monster. He hadn't felt that way in a long while. It was the first time he was sent to kill an innocent, all the others were different, he felt that the assholes he was sent to murder deserved to finally meet their fate. Not this time though.

A servant entered the room unexpectedly and held back the scream already on his lips. He frantically moved his gaze between the child and Aiden as he started muttering something about how Lord Havilland already killed his own brother. Finally, he understood.

He was sent to kill this kid so a rich Lord could become even richer and more powerful. He couldn't fake another hunting accident so he sent the Witcher to do his bloody job. Great, just great. Nobles and their obsession with money and titles, what did they even do to deserve all they had? Killed someone, won a tournament, led soldiers to be slaughtered in a war for a nameless King that didn't give a fuck about them? They had wealth, titles, castles, a legion of slaves and mages at their service, and yet it was never enough, they wanted more, more wealth, more slaves, more titles, more. Disgusting. They could be anything they wanted to be and yet they decided to be awful.

Aiden spared a glance toward the kid and decided right there and then that this kid was not dying because his uncle was an asshole. "Another one will come to finish my job, he can't stay here." The butler is faster than what he gave him credit to be and answered immediately: "I have a sister in Oxenfurt, she can take care of him." 

"Go then. Get as far away from here as possible." True to his word, the servant took the child and was out of the door in a heartbeat, minutes later Aiden saw them riding past the southern gate. He didn't feel worse, at least and that will have to do for now. The kid will live to see another day. His uncle won't though.

#lambden #lambert x aiden #aiden x lambert #witcher lambert #witcher aiden #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #I lost a friend I lost my mind #still trash and not the sexy kind

[lexidigredi]

Married at First Sight Challenge - Introduction and Rules

Introduction

Not long after I got The Sims 4 I started reading about all the different challenges that people were doing (some of them are compiled here).  I thought that was really cool, and I was particularly drawn to the reality TV style challenges: Bachelor/Bachelorette Challenge, Big Brother Challenge, Masterchef Challenge, and so on.  We do not watch much reality TV but Mr Lexi is, like, obsessed with Married at First Sight, so of course I started looking for a Married at First Sight Challenge.

Seriously: obsessed

I could not find one.  I did find BubblyQuinn’s story series on YouTube, but that was not really what I had in mind.  So I did what any reasonable person would do in these circumstances: I wrote my own challenge.  At this point having not actually played the game beyond CAS and building, which are enjoyable enough in their own rights but not a great way to get a handle on the mechanics of the game.

[NOTE: Although I wrote these rules before playing I did play through the first week of this challenge before publishing this post.  This allowed me to check that there was not anything horribly wrong with the rules and that they were at least fun for me to play by.]

Rules

Credit to XUrbanSimsX whose Bachelor/Bachelorette Challenge I used as the basis for these rules.

You are going to need eight young adult sims for contestants, and each of them is going to need their own family living elsewhere in your game world.  I suggest you either:

Create eight young adult contestants then create a family (parents, siblings, etc.) for each contestant or

Create eight families, and pick a contestant from each family (I went with the first young adult sim created within each family)

Each contestant must have at least one relative who is young adult or older (teen or older if you are happy with teens living on their own), as the families will be living on their own and will later be visited by the contestants.

Easy Mode: Heteronormativity Classic

Four binary men and four binary women (may be cis or trans).  May be queer but for the purposes of Married at First Sight they are looking for a spouse of the opposite binary gender.  24 possible ways of arranging the couples.

Normal Mode: Everyone is Bi

Eight contestants of any gender who are open to having a spouse of the same or a different gender.  This means that the only consideration when choosing your couples will be personality compatibility.  105 possible ways of arranging the couples.

Hard Mode: The Beautiful Rainbow of Human Diversity

Eight contestants of any gender.  Each contestant has their own orientation that determines which gender or genders they would consider for a potential spouse.  Determine orientation before you determine personality.  Hope that when you look at the possible couple configurations you can arrange the contestants into couples with at least some compatibility.  I have not tried them out myself but I understand the Wonderful Whims and Wicked Whims mods include options for orientation.

Move each family into a suitable house anywhere in your game world (you may use an existing house, download one from the gallery, or build your own).

For the duration of this challenge the contestants will be living in the Honeymoon Apartments.  You will probably need to build these yourself since the specification is quite unique, or you can download mine from the Gallery.  I am not particularly pleased with them since they are more function over form (my sims HATE the decor).

EDIT: If you are using mine you will need to delete the invisible fences at the top of all the staircases.  To do this, select the wall/fence tool, hold down CTRL, and click-drag the cursor across the top of the stairs.  Alternatively temporarily move the stairs somewhere else so the invisible fence appears, delete it however you would normally, and put the stairs back.  Etiher method may make a grey floor appear where there was previously open space, and this can be deleted with the sledgehammer tool.  There is some discussion of this issue on this Reddit thread.

The specification for the Honeymoon Apartments is as follows:

Four self-contained apartments with a communal living area

Each apartment may only have one double bed

Skill items may only be located in the communal area

Stoves, bookcases, mirrors and televisions do not count as skill items

Use the manage households screen to move all contestants into the Honeymoon Apartments (you are probably going to need freerealestate on).  Do not make any of the couples married in CAS as this will affect their behaviour towards each other in a way that undermines the challenge (e.g. married couples automatically have the option to WooHoo available).

Determine (by whatever process you like) which contestants will be paired up, have each couple walk into one of the four Honeymoon Apartments, and either lock or delete the door.

EDIT: Some mods (e.g. Wonderful Whims or Wicked Whims, and Slice of Life) include more complex personality and/or attraction systems, which could add another dimension to how you match up couples. 

You can use money cheats to make sure your sims have enough to live on - managing your budget is not part of this challenge!

You can meddle as much or as little as you like.  My personal preference is to generally leave the sims to do what they want to do autonomously but cycle through controlling each sim to make them fulfill one of their whims.  If no whims are possible in their current environment (e.g. it is week one, they are not allowed to leave the apartment, but all they want to do is go for a jog, view art at the museum and hang out with family members) you may cancel up to three whims per sim per day to try to get one they can act on.  If they still do not have any possible whims, move on to another sim and hope that their mood has changed by the time you get back to them.

Scheduled Romance

Every fourth day you must attempt a romantic interaction between each couple.  You may choose which sim will initiate the action, but you must choose an action from the highest tier available to you:

Tier 1 (top tier) - Ask to be boy/girlfriend

Tier 2 - Kiss

Tier 3 - Embrace or hold hands

Tier 4 (bottom tier) - Compliment appearance or confess attraction

If those sims are already boy/girlfriend you may choose any romantic interaction you like.  You can even WooHoo, but you may not try for a baby (or risky WooHoo, if you have that mod) before day 20 (if you have a full house of eight contestants this will not be possible without mods anyway).

Week 1 (days 1-4)

Each of your couples will spend time getting to know each other one-on-one.  They may not leave their apartment and may not receive guests.

On day 4 each couple must attempt a romantic interaction from the highest tier available to you before 16.00.

At 16.00, if any couples’ relationship status is showing as “bad match”, “terrible match” or “total opposites” they must divorce.  This means that they move out of the Honeymoon Apartments and back in with their respective families.

After 16.00, unlock/place the doors to the communal area.

For each sim decide whether to get them a job or whether they will be a stay at home spouse.

Week 2 (days 5-8)

Now the couples must adjust to real life, including going to work and socialising with others.  They can hang out with other contestants and receive guests.

You may choose to cause drama if that is your preferred playstyle - alternatively you may find that your sims get into enough trouble on their own!

On day 8 each couple must attempt a romantic interaction from the highest tier available to you before midnight.

At midnight, if any couples’ relationship status is showing as “bad match”, “terrible match” or “total opposites” they must divorce.

Week 3 (days 9-12)

Family visits!  Each day, take a couple out to visit one of the partners’ families.  Take a vacation day if one or both of the sims were due to be at work.  Each couple should only visit one family this week - you can choose which family to visit however you like.

If some of your couples have divorced you may spend a day doing a “follow up” on how one of the separated partners is getting on, or you can just spend the day at the Honeymoon Apartments.

On day 12 each couple must attempt a romantic interaction from the highest tier available to you before midnight.

At midnight, if any couples’ relationship status is showing as “bad match”, “terrible match” or “total opposites” they must divorce.

Week 4 (days 13-16)

More family visits.  Exactly the same as week 3, except you are visiting the families you did not visit last week.

On day 16 each couple must attempt a romantic interaction from the highest tier available to you before midnight.

At midnight, if any couples’ relationship status is showing as “bad match”, “terrible match” or “total opposites” they must divorce.

Week 5 (days 17-20)

This is the final week.  Your couples have had time to get to know each other, and they have met each others’ families.

On day 20 each couple must attempt a romantic interaction from the highest tier available to you before 19.00.

At 19.00, any couples who are not boyfriend/girlfriend must divorce.

The remaining couples may move out into their own houses in the wider world.  If the option is there, you could have them propose to have a second wedding!

EDIT: I keep tinkering with the fourth day timings.  Originally they were all set for 16.00 but I found that once family visits started I was struggling to fit in the required actions for the sims who were not on the visit, particularly if they had unusual work schedules.

Limitations of the format

It is very difficult to get away from the fact that Married at First Sight very much reinforces the idea of marriage being between one (cis) man and one (cis) woman.  The series has been running for six years now and according to Wikipedia has been filmed in at least 14 countries, with America, Australia and Britain being the most well-known.  As far as I can tell there has been a grand total of one gay couple and one lesbian couple on the show (both on the Australian version) and I am not aware of any transgender or polyamorous people appearing as contestants.  There is also the criticism of marriage itself being archaic and patriarchal, but I am not going to get into that here.  If you want to learn more you could do a lot worse than starting with Wikipedia and going from there.

Whilst the source material is very heteronormative, I looked at different options for my challenge (see the rules section above) and decided that all of my sims would be bisexual.  They would therefore be married to their best match, regardless of the gender.  I guess I could have decided they were gay/straight after deciding the matches but bierasure is a thing and I decided I would rather have eight wonderful sims who are unable to use chairs properly.

(I can confirm that as I type this I am sitting entirely incorrectly on a kneeling chair.)

For more on incredible bisexuals see this Tweet, this Tweet and this Tweet - the last one is also available on Thread reader.

The mononormativity is somewhat more challenging to mitigate.  If you have a mod that allows polyamorous relationships (e.g. Wonderful Whims or Wicked Whims) you could approach this in various ways.  To preserve the basic principles of Married at First Sight you could assign each contestant to a polycule rather than a couple, with sizes and configurations of polycules determined however you want.  Then in the family visits weeks you could have them visit their other partners (and possibly children) instead of or in addition to their families of birth/choice.  Alternatively you could just have a free-for-all for the first two weeks before deciding how to configure your polycules based on who is getting on best, but at that point it seems to me less of a Married at First Sight challenge and more just… playing The Sims.  Which is cool too - you do you!

Looking at my contestant’s extended families I chose fairly heteronormative and definitely mononormative family structures, but there is no reason not to have more diverse families in your game.  There is no one definition of what a family is, after all, and my real life family is certainly a testament to this!

Other variations

At the end of the day, the only reason you should be playing The Sims is to have fun.  If I have put something in these rules that would not make the game fun for you then change or ignore it!  This is not a competition, there is no scoring system, and the rules really are more suggestions than anything else.

No scoring system?

I mean, I guess if you really want a scoring system you could have:

50 points for each couple that has a second wedding at the end of the competition

30 points for each other couple that is still together at the end of the competition

-10 points per week that a couple divorces before the end of the competition (the competition is five weeks so a couple divorcing at the end of week one gives you -40 points, whereas a couple divorcing at the end of week four gives you -10 points)

If you manage to have two (or more) couples divorce and contestants who were not originally matched get together you may score them as a couple but for half the normal number of points (25 points for a wedding, 15 points if they are together at the end, -5 points per week after they break up)

I have no idea if that is a viable scoring system, I literally just made it up.

Next time: I will introduce my contestants and explain how I generated both the contestants and their families.

#the sims #sims #sims 4 #the sims 4 #married at first sight challenge #mafs challenge

[monaisme]

Day 1: mind control

They say that hindsight is 20/20.

Tony thought hindsight could suck balls, drink poison, and die.

“Tony, come on. You have to come and eat something... anything. It’s been four days—which is too much, even for you.”

Tony spun in his chair to face away from her, ignoring her pleas—

And leaving Pepper to pull out the big guns, “Do you think you’re doing Peter any favors; you being too sleep deprived and malnourished to be of any help to anyone when we do find him?”

Tony hated it when she used that voice, that horribly logical one that neither man nor board member could argue against. He stood up, too quickly, and grabbed the table’s edge to steady. “You’re right,” he croaked. How long had it been since he’d spoken? “Maybe a nap will inspire me.” He tried to smile at her, show her that he was okay, even if he didn’t believe it himself.

This screw up was too big, felt irreparable. He should have let the kid keep the suit. He should have been in contact with the kid from the beginning.  He should have followed up with the FBI about that damned Toomes guy. And maybe... just maybe he should have reined in his asshole-like tendency when it came to one Thaddeus Ross, U.S. Secretary of State and certifiable psychopath.

All of the Avengers knew his history and his obsession, especially with Bruce. They shouldn’t have been lulled into complacency. Ross had wanted enhanced soldiers—and now he had one.” Peter has to be so scared... and hungry, and what if he hasn’t healed yet. What if...”

“Tony?” Pepper interrupted his thoughts before he could really spiral. “Come on. I’ll make you a smoothie and then you can crash on the couch for a bit,” she encouraged, holding her hand out for him to take. “That way you’re in the thick of it if FRIDAY or Rhodey come up with anything.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.” His smile felt bigger this time, unsure who he was trying to convince. He grabbed her offering and they headed toward the elevator, only to stop in his tracks and rush out a desperate, “FRIDAY?”

“Tony,” Pepper whispered, “You don’t have to ask, she’ll...”

Tony interrupted her, “Just hang on, please? I just have to check one more thing!“ Eyes flew to the ceiling. “Any luck with Ross’s government or personal cell phones? Any pings?”

FRIDAY responded immediately, “No, Boss. Both cell phones have been untraceable since approximately 20 minutes after your plane crashed at Coney Island. I have expanded the parameters of the search to include any known personal assistants and his daughter, Betty Ross as well. Is there anyone else I can include that I have not anticipated?”  

“No one that I can think of,” he answered. “Good job, Baby Girl. Keep up the good work.”

“Thank you, Boss. I will notify you of any changes in the search.”

There was nothing else he could do in that moment. Nothing at all.

Pepper squeezed his hand, “We’ll get him back, Tony. If anyone can, it’s you.”

And Tony hoped she was right.

*

Four Days ago:

Thaddeus Ross was not a man to be trifled with. He’d worked hard in his decades long military career to establish himself as a man of morals, of action, and worthy of the respect and admiration of his peers. He practically bled red, white, and blue, damn it.

He also knew better than those talking heads in Washington, D.C. when it came to those bloody mutants and exactly how they should be used in a time of war—(and if wormholes in the sky and glowing rocks didn’t count as that, then they were fools.) which was why the Sokovia Accords needed to be signed now.

His only benefit was that Tony Stark was playing nice... sort of. Yes, Stark wanted accountability. God knew he had enough blood on his hands to warrant it. The problem was that Stark also wanted his band of freaks back in the fold, and after the whole Winter Soldier debacle, Ross was going to make him work for every damned concession—if Stark would only answer his damned phone.

Yes, he knew that Stark was treating this like a joke but that night, on Coney Island, the joke was on him.

Ross had never been sure of how involved Stark was with the Accords versus the band of lawyers Ross was forced to work with day in and day out, and so Ross had submitted a caveat regarding notification to the U.N. Accords Committee of the transportation of any and all Avengers related gear and related inventory—and the necessity of a U.N. sanctioned representative to confirm safe delivery. If he was the official channel, then so be it.

And Stark never mentioned it.

Which was why, on that early October weekend, he had been stationed at the Avengers compound, waiting. Ross knew that there was no one important waiting for delivery, and it would be a perfect opportunity to pocket some Stark tech for his own personal agenda.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. “Ross,” he answered.

He listened to the excited explanation on the other end of the phone. Something had happened and the plane with all of Stark’s toys was currently plummeting toward Coney Island. And then the correction: It had crashed at Coney Island.

Ross was already buckling into the helicopter he’d commandeered for the occasion and was in the air before instructing his man on the ground to stand by, but to observe and inform Ross of any changes in the situation.

And, oh, how it had changed.

“Mr. Secretary, sir, it appears that Spider-Man and an unidentified subject have emerged from the crash and are ‘battling’ over the inventory.”

“What?”

“Yessir, they are actively engaged, though it appears that Spider-Man is wounded and will require medical assistance if things continue as such.”

Ross had to know. He had to know if Stark had violated the essence of the Accords by using a mutant to guard his plane. Tony Stark would be on the Raft faster than you could say, “I was Iron Man.”

He dialed, waited for the call to connect, and then fumed. “Hi, you’ve reached me. I’d rather have a colonoscopy than talk to you, so leave a message at the beep and I’ll call you back... oh, wait. There is no beep.” And, once again, Tony Stark hung up on U.S. Secretary Thaddeus Ross.

Ross hated that man, almost as much as he’d hated Howard Stark, and oh, what he wouldn’t do to make that man suffer.

Stark needed to be brought down a peg.

His helicopter landed, Ross disembarked immediately and approached his aid. “What do you know, Anderson?” he barked.

Anderson pointed to the top of the rollercoaster. “Spider-Man perched on the top of the Cyclone a few minutes ago and hasn’t moved, Sir. Like I said in my earlier report, I think he may be injured. Should we call Mr. Stark, Sir? It’s my understanding that they are working together.”

“I’m afraid Stark is unavailable, so we’ll be dealing with this one in house,” he looked to Anderson and grinned, then made a performance of turning off his cell phone. “You’ll need to call the team. I think it’s time to go and collect us a bug.”

*

While Ross had been on-site exclusively since the acquisition of Subject 17-A, it was the first time he’d been able to pull himself away from the paperwork that comes with trying to build a proper enhanced militia. There was also the little matter of making sure Tony Stark and his minions couldn’t track him down now that he was finally getting somewhere. It was tedious, but with the blood work and tissue samples collected that first day, progress was being made—slowly.

It hadn’t been long for his people to approach him on the first day of the subject’s actual conditioning regiment. Standard drug protocols were proving to be ineffective due to the subject’s enhanced metabolism. LSD, cocaine, and heroin were all burning through too quickly. The altered state they were looking to achieve in order to gain a foothold was seemingly impossible; and so they moved onto less palatable but still valid methods.

And so the beatings had begun with intermittent shock treatments to reinforce and correct behaviours.

That didn’t mean that the chemical option had been taken off of the table—not at all. His scientists were geniuses, simply blacklisted for having the testicular fortitude to do whatever they deemed necessary to create a perfect weapon for the safety of the American people! Another area of the compound was dedicated to running analysis after analysis on different drug combinations to achieve desired effect. It wouldn’t be long before they were back on track with a full gambit of toys to play with.

He keyed entry into the observation room. It was empty save for recording equipment on this side of the one-way mirror, an intercom, and the hardwired control for the subject’s ‘training sessions,’ which was perfect. Ross wanted to observe without distraction.

A weak, “Hello?” called out from the other side of the glass. “Who’s there?”

Ross stepped up to the glass and smiled. He looked so innocent... so frightened there, bare save for a surgical gown and strapped to the vibranium table that Ulysses Klaue had been kind enough to provide for a very reasonable price.

“I can hear someone new. Please? Can you help me?” he called out.

Ross was irritated at the request for help (but still impressed with the enhanced hearing). His conditioning, however, should have been further along for three days of work. He pushed the button on the wall, counted to ten, and then released, all the while watching the subject strain against his restraints.

Electricity was such an effective tool.

“Subject 17-A. Please refrain from any attempt at communication.”

The subject looked confused for a second, like he was trying to figure something out, and then he realized, “Secretary Ross?”

It was out before it could stop itself, it seemed, and Ross delighted in the twenty count this time. Its screams were a thing of beauty. “Subject 17-A. Please refrain from any attempts at communication.”

Subject 17-A sniffed as tears poured down its cheeks.

Twenty-five seconds and then Ross waited.

Subject 17-A was silent after that, save for the sound of its involuntary grunts and spasming limbs striking at the table... and Ross would allow that.

*

They’d hit the one week mark.

Tony was devastated.

Any hopes of tracking Ross or any accomplices through his government staff had been an absolute failure. Those assigned to work the office of the United States Secretary of State were all present, accounted for, and cleared of any involvement with this catastrophe.

Thaddeus Ross had gone rogue and had been planning it for a while.

Tony pulled at his hair. “What the fuck are we missing?!” he yelled. “It’s been a week!”

Rhodey, Vision, and Bruce said nothing.

Tony started listing off everything he could think of. “We’ve checked the dark web. Ross isn’t selling him. He isn’t selling his DNA. There hasn’t been any chatter on any of the black op sites. What the hell is he doing?”

Bruce finally spoke up, “I don’t know, but I’m not sure he knows either. It’s not like he’d planned to nab the kid.”

And that was all it took. Tony grabbed Bruce by the cheeks and planted a big, wet kiss on his forehead. “Bruce, you genius! They weren’t ready for him! And he was hurt! Oh, fuck, he was hurt, Bruce. We’ll have to get the med bay ready for him in case things need fixing, ‘cuz Ross is a sadist if ever there was one and a movie night with—“

“Tony!” Rhodey yelled out, trying to distract Tony from his rant. “What are you talking about?”

“Guys, Ross wasn’t ready for him and couldn’t have been what with his wacked out DNA! That means we track any pharmaceutical orders, international, too! We’re looking for any orders of chemicals or compounds used by or ever researched by you and Cho for use on Steve! Hell, anything that has similar properties or off book uses that could potentially affect Peter, too! You got that FRIDAY?” He didn’t stop for her response. “They could—“

“Search complete, Boss. I’ve found something.”

Tony was feeling hope for the first time in forever. “Lay it on me, Baby Girl.”

“An order for multiple drugs researched by Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho for use in anaesthesia in the event that Captain Rogers needed surgery has been placed by a Dr. Gerald Rickman of Norfolk, Virginia. The delivery is tentatively set for two hours from now at a warehouse in an industrial park to the south of Allentown, Pennsylvania, though actual delivery time may change depending on traffic and route selection.” FRIDAY intoned.

Tony was suiting up before FRIDAY had made it through the standard delivery disclaimer. “Send the delivery point to the suits and quinjet, FRI,” he directed. “Bruce, Vision, fly out and meet us there. We’ll need to be ready for medical evac. Rhodey,” he stopped in his tracks and looked him directly in the eye. “Get the kid out at all cost, and then we burn’em to the ground. Got it?”

Rhodey nodded in agreement. “I got it, brother. Let’s go get your kid back.”

“And one more thing,” he announced as he rocketed into the air, “Ross is mine.”

*

His rage could be heard over the blare of the sirens blaring overhead. “What have you done?!” He grabbed Dr. Rickman by the shoulders and shook him. “All of the security, the firewalls, the backdoors, and you order off of your phone while you’re taking a shit?!”

The man cowered in fear. “B-b-but I thought—“

“If you’d thought, we wouldn’t be in this mess! Do you know what that alarm means? It means a perimeter breach, because of you! The Avengers are here because of you! My life’s work, over! Because of you!” Ross released the man from his grip with a shove. With a calm contrary to what he was feeling, he pulled out his Beretta M9. “This is all because of you.”

The shot could be heard over the sound of the siren, but the sound of Dr. Rickman’s body hitting the ground wasn’t.

It was over.

The wall to the left of him blasted open, debris scattering all over the floor—scattering all over Dr. Rickman.

Iron Man walked through the opening, arm raised and repulsor charged and pointed directly at Ross, still clutching his smoking gun. Iron Man looked from Ross to the body on the floor, and then back to Ross.

Neither man spoke for a moment, and then Ross broke the silence, “Aren’t you going to ask why I did it?”

“No.”

“Are you going to ask where he is?”

“No.”

“The great Tony Stark, silent after all this time? I never thought I’d live to see the day--”

And with that, Tony smirked. “You took the kid. Who said you get to live?”

Ross grinned, “You mean Subject 17-A?”

The repulsor fired before even Tony registered that he’d done it—and he was okay with it. He looked down at the now smoking corpse that had been the bane of his existence and gave it a kick. “His name is Peter Parker, asshole. He’s Spider-Man.”

*

In the end, it had been Vision who’d found him. Dematerializing to float through walls cut out a lot of wasted time.

The flood of relief was evident in the tone of everyone’s reply.

Tony’s, “I’m on my way, Vis. Keep my Spider-baby safe.”

Rhodey’s, “Awesome. Let me clean up some loose ends and I’ll meet up with y’all.”

But then Bruce, “Um, guys? I found something.”

Tony heard the seriousness in Bruce’s voice. “Vis, I’m a minute from your location, get ready to join up with Bruce and get everything you can.” Tony looked at the cement walls as he passed, saw remnants of the others that may have come before Peter. “And do it quick. We’ll analyze it later, unless it’s an immediate need. Bruce?”

“We’re good, I think. I’m gonna grab some samples and let Vision deal with the rest. This place gives me the heebie jeebies.”

Tony looked at what may have been blood stained concrete. “Me, too, bud. I think we may have to go ‘scorched earth’ on this place.”

Rhodey piped up then, “Agreed. I think this place has seen some dark shit.”

“Alright, let’s go.” Tony entered the room where Vision stood guard over Peter’s prone form. “Get it fast so we can get gone, okay, Vis?”

Vision nodded and disappeared, leaving Tony alone with Peter.

Tony huffed a sigh of relief and approached the table where Peter lay, thankfully no longer confined. He smiled down at the boy who seemed determined to stare only at one fixed point on the ceiling.

“See anything interesting up there?” Tony asked, looking to see what had captured his interest.

Peter clamped his mouth shut.

Tony saw it, thought he understood. “Pete? Hey. I’m really sorry about all of the things that happened before, and um, about the suit. I was so wrong and I realize that now.”

Peter remained silent.

Tony was confused, “Pete? Are you okay?” he reached out, brushed back some of Peter’s curls from his forehead.

A silent tear ran down his cheek.

“Pete?”

Bruce appeared in the door, clutching a file and a satchel of more. “I think I understand what happened here... or at least what they tried to make happen...” Bruce trailed off.

Tony waited for an explanation.

“Did you ever hear about the MK Ultra program out of the 60s, 70s, and 80s?”

Tony thought for a second, then remembered, “Do you mean that shady CIA mind control program that was supposed to be cancelled but wasn’t really and everyone just pretends that it was?”

Bruce gulped, loosened the collar of shirt, nodded.

Tony looked down at Peter again. “Did they try to do that with you?” He brushed back the curls again, more gently than before.

No response.

“Tony, he may think you’re a test.” Bruce whispered as he glanced down at the notes in front of him.

Tony’s heart sank. Had he taken too long? He smiled sadly at the boy, “I know what we can do. We can head back to the city and, after Dr. Cho—who’s a really great doctor, by the way—after she checks you out, we can relax and watch a really old movie, like Star Wars or something.” He tried to remember anything. “That was the one you liked, right? Inspired some pretty epic moves during that whole airport thing, huh?”

Peter blinked.

“Speaking of airports, I sort of owe you for saving my plane, Underoos. That would have ended sooo bad if you hadn’t pulled that crazy stunt. I mean crashing a plane? That’s more my style, but I’ll let you have this one, square deal?”

Peter turned his head toward the voice, “Mm—“

Tony wrinkled his nose at that, “Kid, if you’re gonna call me Mr. Stark, we need to have a conversation. I’ve been meaning to tell you, but then you managed to get kidnapped and all.”

Peter huffed out the quietest of laughs.

“And there you are, Spider-baby.” Tony whispered sweetly. “Ready to go home?”

Rhodey and Vision arrived in the doorway. “Tony? Why don’t you guys go on ahead. I’m gonna take care of some stuff here, alright?”

Tony and Rhodey shared a look, and Tony understood.

“Sounds good, Platypus.” Tony pulled Peter into his arms bridal style. “We are gonna fly first class, though, if that’s alright with you?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just gonna light’er up and be right behind you.” He looked at the boy in Tony’s arms. “I was sure I heard something about a movie night as I came in and I am not missing that. Tones does the best snacks.”

Peter curled up a little more.

Tony took the cue and tightened the hold. “Alright, then, Spider-Man, your chariot awaits. Vision? Bruce? Let’s go.”

*

It was hours later, when Peter was sleeping soundly in the medbay, that Tony had a chance to look at the file.

And it was only moments after he finished that he swore he’d never let anyone hurt Peter again.

@febuwhump

#febuwhump #febuwhump2021 #irondad and spiderson #fanfiction #mind control #dehumanisation tw

[2ofswords]

Alexander Block ^^

Our dear Commander! This is going to be interesting, because I think he is pretty ambivalent in his role. Also I have to disclaim: I have not yet played the Changeling Route, so there probably is some information lacking. I will try my best though!

their biggest strength

All in all I wouldn’t say that we really see the General at his best here. Well… depending what kind of best we are talking about but the military at that point of the outbreak is pretty much useless unless for the ending itself and Block has no real way to handle the situation and it is really hard to pick a direct strength, because… well… he is not showing as many in a situation that really confines him. He looses control pretty quickly and almost becomes a bystander relying on other peoples judgement calls in both games. So I kind of cannot really judge him by his speciality (which would be how he handles the military but… you know… we don’t really see that) and also not by what his character strengths in general are, because he is just so out of his element that he has a very small time to react on his own and show strength. For example, I have no real idea about his skills as a tactician even if they could probably be real^ly good just by the merits of being a successful general. So direct skills like these kind of fall apart here) What I can do though is judge the way he holds himself up in the narrative and where he has the greatest and most positive impact. And I think his sense of justice is his biggest strength here and perhaps still stands strong disregarding the fact that my perception of his strength feels a bit limited. But while creating a mess at the last days of the game his flat out refusal to destroy everything is his biggest and most impactful choice in the game and the way he actually archives some form of agency, even if it puts him in a passive position for the rest of the game because he has no own reason to spare or don’t spare different things. This also kind of works in both games and also explains why Aglaya states fearing him specifically. Her words “hero of the people” elude to him being kind of popular but also having some sort of heroism. And even her naming him a “genius” kind of plays into what I am calling his sense of justice when she denies herself being a genius by calling herself a “machine”. While Aglaya acts according to her set parameters and goals even while actively fighting her fate, Blocks first move is actively denying set parameters and I think this is his biggest strength and what upsets the whole status quo in the first place. (It is also why he bonds with the Changeling who is all about finding a different miraculous outcome that straight up denies the dilemma.) And I would say this happens by him actively saying “No. This way isn’t right, and I will not act according to it.” Of course, he makes kind of bad judgement calls as well. The whole bone stake lot disaster happens by his orders after all and the way he handles the mutiny seems pretty messy. This is more about the concept of morality and less about judgement calls in specific situations. But his fame and the way he seems to be actively dangerous to the powers that be seems to come out of a strong sense of justice and the willingness and bravery to follow through with it, which is definitely something few people would archive.

their greatest weakness

I was thinking about writing his dependence on other peoples opinions here, but I am still not quite sure about that one. First there are instances in the first game where he does act pretty immediately and second we already discussed how this is kind of a good thing and while his “I don’t know, just tell me what to do” kind o frustrates me, we should know that authorities listening to medical experts may not really be the worst one can do… So I do not feel got to choose that one, even if I think he stays really passive while he stays but on the other hand I have no real idea, what he could and should do in the first place. As I said his own options are pretty limited. Maybe not burning people alive would be a good start… Hm… To me he feels absolutely clueless. He is even more out of it than Daniil who at least arrives before the disaster starts and gets a small town crash course. He just arrives in the midst of disaster, in Patho1 there is an elaborate murder scheme… thing planed behind his back that he just kind of shrugs away and he still orders the bull being burned because of the Bachelor’s words (and that guy in general talks a lot of bullshit that Block just kind of accepts. Which… as I said listening to experts is kind of good but mayyybe get like a second opinion? The changeling is standing right next to you, it’s fine you can talk to her! She knows better anyways, believe me…). He just doesn’t know what the hell is going on and I think this is his main problem and the actual reason he stays this passive and kind of just does what he is being told is logical at this very moment. Or you know… just gets locked up (maybe?) and then released again to just fuck of because he has no idea what the fuck he should be doing about this situation. He kind of tries to talk to the different healers and in Patho 2 he seems a bit more adamant about it but we have yet to see because the Haruspex has almost no interaction with him. And again I think most about it happens because he arrives at a time, where everything already escalated and the mess is so convoluted that I have no idea how he should even see through it. But in the situation this lack of knowledge kind of leads to him being used by kind of everyone to manipulate the outcome of the outbreak and him having no say in it aside from not wanting to murder everyone.

a headcanon about their childhood

I cannot imagine Block as a child for some reason. He just gets… smaller. It’s said that he is very young for his position and that leads me to believe that he is part of a military family… He seems like a person who doesn’t really know anything besides the front and his duties in the military and he seems to be a bit awkward about handling something that isn’t that… Or he might be the second or third child of a family where the parents were like “just go to the military can’t have our business” and he always kind of prepared for that. That would also make him being this sudden shooting star who climbed the ranks a bit more spectacular. Anyways no cute headcanons for Block. He just was always a military man, I am afraid… But I think it fits his angst of desperately wanting something good and human to happen in his life.  

a headcanon about their future (if they have one)

Firstly out of all the people sent by the powers that be I think Block is the most likely to survive the whole disaster and escape relatively unscathed. Even with going against his initial orders he kind of washes his hands off of it pretty effectively and with a war going on he still seems needed enough (and I guess pretty easy to dispose) after the plague happened. How his future turns out depends on the question, if Clara will leave town with him or stay and I actually do simply not know about the outcome there. I think he will just stay at the front and be on his way again, if she stays in town but I do not think, he would be irresponsibly enough to carry a child to the front, even if she is a miraculous saint. So he will probably go back to the capital and strategize and hold up appearances there and basically do exactly what the powers that be feared in the first place. Also I want to imagine that at one point he meets up with some fellow generals that he really hates and Clara advises him with a really elaborate, clever and very childish prank that involves great things like tying shoelaces together. It’s a good evening.

a small detail/scene that leaves a great impact

Hm… I wish I had his appearance in Patho 1 more in mind but I was really stressed out while playing the last days and without using any guide I also missed quite a few side quests (for example I never visited all participants of the whole Block murder thing on day 9)… So there are a lot of details that escape me right now. The scene that for me leaves the greatest impact and was also my first impression was the very first cathedral scene at the beginning of Patho 2. I think that interaction is pretty neat. Of course refusing to spare the town is a pretty horrible thing to do and say and after seeing what the army did the impression of their leader cannot possibly be a very positive one but on the other hand it feels like he genuinely wanted to give you a shot at convincing him and he rather mourns not having the means to stop the plague which… you know, they do not have at this timelime and even while I agree with Artemy that there obviously wasn’t enough time in the first place… after the twelve days there aren’t that many people to save, time IS running out (there are around 15000 people in town (the 5000 in the Termitary make up a third of the population according to Young Vlad) and in Patho 2 after ten days there are over 13000 total deaths. So… not that many people left on day 12… I don’t know the numbers in Patho 1 though…), so not having a solution right now becomes a big problem in the general’s eyes. It is still a cruel decision and one I would definitely disagree with, but… with being responsible to your own troupes, letting your own people die when you see something as a lost course… It’s still a hard decision and he seems mournful about the outcome… So he stands for and does very problematic things but is introduced in his humanity and suffering over his own obligation. I think this early and pretty short conversation establishes him exceptionally well as well as some very important themes that will haunt us through the entire game.

their philosophy/worldview (or part of it) described in one neat little sentence

Luckily there is an entire theatre play dedicated to explaining his worldview and stance in this whole play. So how about “Protecting something means to attack the right thing at the right time.” Pretty much summarizes his entire dilemma in the game and shows a destructive stance and course of action, while also wondering about what really is the right course of action and showing his desire, to actually help and protect.

#Pathologic #Alexander Block

[pandawritespoorly]

With Time: Chapter 25 - Confrontation

Author’s Note: So, I know I promised angst, but while rereading this chapter I realized it really isn't super angsty. Mostly at the beginning, then it's a bit calmer. Also, this is the first time in a while but we've got a (drumroll please)...

Strong language warning!!! I guess that should be a sign of angst incoming.

This chapter includes the words 'bitch', 'asshole', and 'bitch' again. Enjoy!

Chapter Summary: Marinette sketches outside.

First | Previous | Next

Marinette is sketching outside. She isn’t quite sure what led to this, as it’s only late January and she really doesn't like the cold any more than usual.

Snow may be terrible, but it’s certainly pretty. Hence, the whole sketching-outside-thing. She’s bundled up with all her winter gear, though she’s had to forgo the usual thick gloves because she’s got to draw. Nothing spectacular, but enough that when she’s awake again in a few months she’ll have something decent to work with.

“Marinette?”

She looks up, taking a moment to adjust to looking at an actual person. Eventually the dark clothes and general appearance clue her in to the fact that Felix is standing in front of her.

“Hi.” It’s really all she can manage. She’s only capable of one (preferably simple) task at a time. It’ll take her a moment to speak properly.

“Is it wise for you to be outside in this weather?”

Her shrug is lost in her layers, so she gestures at her sketchbook. 

He only raises an eyebrow, ”Could you not sketch someplace warmer?”

A single blink is all he gets in response, so he sighs, pulling out a book, “In that case, I will be reading here. I will also inform the others that you’re outside, seeing as I still do not believe this to be a good idea.”

She nods, returning to her sketches, happy to have avoided switching tasks. They sit together in a comfortable silence as they enjoy their individual activities.

“It is you! Did you think you could show up around here without me saying something?! I have some choice words for you bitch!” A voice carries across the otherwise empty park. A third person has joined them.

Felix notices how Marinette immediately stiffens beside him - the fact it’s noticeable even through her layers is especially concerning. He looks up to see the source of the voice.

Oh. Her.

The group can easily recognize Marinette’s old classmates. Once they learned what had happened they wanted to be able to identify them in case she ever ran into that class with them. Alya is the easiest though, having met her in-person once.

“I think you should leave, Ms. Césaire.” He speaks harshly, having no patience for her.

“I don’t know who you are, but if you’re with her you’re either a bully or completely in the dark. Maybe she’s deceiving you too. I missed the signs.” Alya is wavering between fury directed at Marinette and sympathy for Felix.

“Neither of those are the case, you are misinformed, due to your blatant ignorance and inability to follow basic journalistic procedure.”

“Oh, a bully then. Birds of a feather flock together,” any sympathy is gone, and her face is hard.

“Neither of us are bullies. We do not deserve you coming after us in this manner-” “I know what she is-”

“We will be leaving now.” He stands, helping Marinette to her feet. She’s recovered from her surprise and is focusing on the ground. It’s honestly a relief her house is so close.

“She’s a manipulative, two-faced, liar, who beats up anyone that stands up to her and tries to ruin her facade-” Alya is picking up steam.

Marinette mumbles something, but it’s lost to the yelling. Felix continues to try and direct her to the house. The others were already planning on coming over, so they really just need to get past her.

“I regret that I ever called her my best friend, because she only ever does things for herself. The class is better off now that she’s finally gone and-” Marinette speaks again, but it’s still too quiet to be heard over the yelling.

“She’d been dragging the whole class down the entire time she went there! She’s worse than Chloe! At least she’s left to be with her own kind now! I bet she’s found a bunch of like-minded assholes to run her new school with.” Felix can see the other approaching, realizing what’s happening and hurrying. Even Adrien is exiting from fencing. Marinette won’t move. At least the others are here now. “Playing her little mind games and ruining lives behind the scen-”

“Would you jus- You’re wrong!” Marinette doesn’t even yell, but she speaks evenly, in a firm voice that startles Alya into a temporary silence. Marinette is barely holding herself together. She’s both physically and emotionally exhausted and has reached her limits.

Allan and Claude are at her side. Allegra leaves them to it, and turns to Alya. Felix sticks with Marinette as well, though keeps an eye on Allegra - her self-control may not be doing so well. Adrien arrives a little later, but he goes to Marinette without hesitation.

They all usher her inside, up to her room quickly. She’s hyperventilating, her breaths coming in short quiet gasps as she tries to pull herself together. Somehow she and Adrien’s hands have been linked, and she’s gripping his hand like a lifeline.

Allan is making quiet comforting noises, “It’s okay. It’ll be okay, ‘Nettie.”

Claude and Felix sit back, not wanting to crowd her.

Allegra arrives, looking incensed. She pushes that down in favor of focusing on Marinette.

“Oh, Mari, sweetie…” She sits near Claude and Felix, entirely capable of waiting for Marinette. Can’t this poor girl catch a break?

Marinette is really trying to do this right. She’s supposed to breathe. Why isn’t she breathing?

Because you’re stupid, and can’t do something simple.

No, no, no. She just told Alya that none of that is true. She’s fine. She shouldn’t be this upset. Why is she so upset? Idiot.

Obsessive.

Creep.

Untrustworthy.

No! She’s fine now, she’s better. None of that is true, that’s what she told Alya. Alya…

She yelled at Alya. What kind of friend…

Can’t do friendship properly.

Her head is spinning and she knows none of this is true, but it must be true. She’d backed it up with facts.

This is all her fault. She’s supposed to be reading it nightly, but she hasn’t read it since…

Since… 

The fact that she can’t immediately recall is a sign of how much she’s failed. She remembers now though. Last time was when Adrien found it.

No one was supposed to find it.

Failure.

She needs to get to her notebook. Things will make sense then. No one can know though. Adrien would be disappointed, and they’d all be disgusted by her horrible inability to follow such simple rules.

The notebook is near her bed. If she can get there…

They’d probably put her in her bed if she’s asleep.

She feels the pieces of a plan fitting together. Marinette gives into the exhaustion, but not entirely. It isn’t hard. With Allan and Adrien right beside her though, she only has to be careful not to slip too far. 

She’s barely awake. She has to keep her eyes closed, which only makes it harder. Loosening her grip on Adrien’s hand, and letting herself go limp, she lets herself float right on the edge of sleep. 

They don’t even let her reach the floor, supporting her as soon as she’s ‘sleeping’.

There’s murmuring, whispering as they talk amongst themselves. She really hopes they’ll follow the plan. She can’t check the notebook if this doesn’t go according to plan.

Marinette needs that notebook. The lists will explain everything, everything will be fixed.

Maybe she needs to sell it better?

She focuses on making her breathing even steadier, which really makes the whole not-actually-falling-asleep thing that much harder.

Nobody comments. Adrien’s hand finds her hair, combing through the tangles gently. Brushing it is too much work in the winter.

They’re mumbling, the soft conversation constantly mindful of her presence. Why haven’t they moved her yet? Why are they still here? Because they like you. They care.

What an odd idea. She likes it better than the lists.

The lists.

She needs to get to the lists.

She moves slightly, before remembering that she’s not supposed to be awake. Following the plan will solve this, so that’s what she does.

At her movement, there’s a brief silence, as though they’re waiting. After a moment, Adrien’s hand continue working through her hair, and she can tell he’s purring softly.

She loves him so much. He’s so sweet.

That’s not important right now. You need the lists.

The low voices continue, she still doesn’t bother to actually listen. That takes effort and she’d have to be less asleep.

“She isn’t sleeping yet,” Adrien confirms.

“Poor girl. It must be all the stress.” Allegra shakes her head.

“She’ll have to sleep eventually. She’s barely awake as it is.” Claude adds. “It’s time for you to rest, sweetie.” Allan tells her.

“I doubt she will be able to last much longer.” Felix agrees.

“That’s what you said last time.” “We all know that I am correct this time around.”

“Well duh, look at her. I’m almost convinced.” “Why are we so certain that she’s faking it? Is there any chance she’s actually asleep?”

“Her breathing isn’t quite there yet. She keeps twitching her eyes as if she’s about to open her eyes up and look around.”

“This girl.”

Marinette is so confused. Everything makes less sense when she’s tired, especially in the winter. Why isn’t she in her bed yet? Why was she trying to get there again? Something she’s supposed to check on…

While she’s trying to focus, she ends up fixating on the hands in her hair.

Adrien.

He had something to do with the thing, right? Focusing on him would help her remember. She’s sure.

The thing is, with her eyes closed all she has to focus on for Adrien is the fact that he is carefully and deliberately combing through her hair. He’s purring too. 

She’s always loved his purring.

Focus! She can’t remember her goal, so now she has a second goal, and now she will do it.

This plan is foolproof.

…

“Yeah, she’s definitely sleeping now.”

“Good!”

There’s a pause, then Allegra breaks the silence, “Oh, that horrible girl!” Her hands are clenched into fists, and she looks the picture of wrath.

“What’d you even say t’ her?” Allan asks.

“The truth. That she and the rest of her classmates are a bunch of bullies that can’t be bothered to do a google search to see what’s right in front of them!” She breaks off into a bunch of unintelligible angry muttering.

“Good.” Felix nods, “That is probably nicer than she deserves.”

“She walked away before I could say much. Ooh, I just-” Allegra cuts herself off, taking a moment to calm down, she turns to Adrien, “Is she going to be mad?” 

“Oh, I’m a dead man tomorrow. How dare I comfort Marinette.” Adrien groans, rolling his eyes, “Alya will kill me, if Lila doesn’t get my father to do something first. I think Lila suspected I still knew Mari when she saw us at the museum, so here’s her confirmation.”

“How does she even get away with all this? Don’t the teachers have to do something?” Claude interjects.

“I’m not experienced with how school is supposed to be, but Chloe says that this one is ridiculously hands off. They don’t get involved in things that they should, and when they do, it’s not the right way.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Whenever Chloe bullied Marinette, no one would talk to Chloe about it. If they did she’d just threaten to call her dad. If Marinette got upset, someone would take her out to the hall to tell her that she’s supposed to be the example for Chloe, so she shouldn’t get upset.”

“Excuse me?!”

“That’s not how it works!” “How is this school still running?”

“What kind of nonsense-” The others break into indignant protests on their friends behalf.

“I guess that explains a lot.” Claude sighs.

“Mhm.” Adrien nods.

“Poor baby.”

“She has us now.”

“And you still have to go there. All the time.”

“Yeah…”

“Murder. I’m going to do murder.” Allegra throws her hands in the air exasperatedly.

“Illegal.” Felix chimes in, “If you must, be sure no one knows it was you.”

“Guys. There won’t be any murder happening.” Allan warns.

“Not even a little?”

Allan shakes his head regretfully.

“Fine.”

“Can I say, that I’m just so proud of Mari? She stood up to Alya!” Claude is bouncing happily where they’re sitting.

“Three times, actually.” Felix corrects, “I doubt you could have heard from that distance, but that was her third attempt at speaking.”

“Even better!”

“After all that it’s no wonder she’s sleeping, poor thing must be exhausted.” Allegra sympathizes.

“We gotta’ make sure she knows that. The whole bein’ proud thing.” Allan adds.

They all nod in agreement. Marinette needs to know how important that was. She’s made so much progress.

“Should we move her to her bed? Or the chaise?” “That’d probably be good, but I’d hate to leave her. Also, she’s not exactly the easiest to remove from… anyone really.” Adrien points out.

“Not to mention the emotional toll!” Claude agrees, “She always looks so sad when you move her!”

---

Marinette comes to slowly, blinking a few times before she tries to sit up. As usual, she ends up resting heavily on Adrien.

“Hi, Mari.” Adrien says as she continues to adjust to being awake.

“Hi.”

“Do you want to talk?” Allan asks.

“Not yet.” She needs time to think.

She needs time to check the notebook.

“That’s fine.” He nods. “We are proud though!” Claude interjects. “What?”

“You stood your ground! You defended yourself from her and her nonsense!” Allegra agrees. “You recognized that she was incorrect, and you said as much to her.” Felix adds.

“Oh.” She blushes lightly, and smiles at them softly.

“There’s that wonderful smile of yours!”

---

It’s late now. The others have left - it is a school night after all. Tikki is asleep at her spot on the desk, and Marinette is sleeping in her bed.

Except she isn’t.

She sits up quietly, ignoring how the exhaustion she feels makes her head spin slightly. She really needs the notebook. Then things will make sense, and she can figure out what to do. How to fix things.

What is she fixing? Did she really do something wro-

You always do something wrong. This isn’t an exception.

She yelled at Alya. That’s right.

Opening the journal, she’s taken aback by the handwriting that is distinctly not her own.

 No Rules, Just Reminders-

You don’t have to smile all the time, it’s okay if you aren’t happy.

Crying is perfectly fine.

Apologizing is fine, but remember that not everything is your fault.

If you want to help someone, just remember that it’s okay to prioritize your needs too.

It’s perfectly fine to ask for help, people are more than willing to give it.

If someone asks how you’re doing, the answer doesn’t have to be ‘good’.

It’s okay to be tired, it’s okay to be sick, people care about your health.

Akumas are unpredictable, there’s no telling how long they’ll last, just try your best.

Akumas are no one’s fault but Hawkmoth’s, you aren’t to blame.

Honesty is a great thing, but sometimes it’s alright to lie, you have good intentions.

The people in your life care about you. They don’t ‘put up with you’, they love you, and you deserve that. 

No one is going to abandon you for a small mistake.

You aren’t a bad person, no one in their right mind thinks that.

You can make mistakes, the important thing is that you acknowledge them and learn from them.

You are trustworthy, and deserve the opportunities you earned for yourself.

You are a very likeable person, not a bad one.

Paris is lucky to have someone as spectacular as you as a hero.

If you attract an akuma, that’s okay. You’re allowed to have negative feelings.

You don’t have to carry the weight of the world alone, there’s no shame in asking for help. No one will look down on you for it.

People love you, Marinette. They’re not crazy, they’re right.

Be kind to yourself, you more than deserve it.

♡

 These aren't her rules. These aren't her lists.

This is Adrien’s handwriting, she recognizes it now. When-? What-? How-? Why-?

There’s a knock at her balcony, and she opens it hurriedly.

“Sorry to bother you, it’s just that I wanted to check on you- Claws In-” Plagg flies down to nap near Tikki, “‘cause it was such a stressful day, and I-” He notices her confused face, “...was worried. Wait, what happened?”

She only blinks at him, utterly baffled. He notices the notebook in her lap.

“Oh, Mari, Princess.” He quickly figures out what must have happened. She hadn’t checked the notebook since before he’d changed it. Old habits die hard, and today had clearly been stressful enough that she’d decided she had to resort to that.

“I just. The rules. I…” Marinette is still catching up.

“Why did you decide you needed the rules?” He barely catches himself from telling her that the rules were nonsense.

“I messed up today? I think? I’m confused, so I wanted help?” She gestures with the notebook helplessly.

“You could have talked to us.”

“But the notebook has facts, and I didn’t wanna’ bother you guys…”

“The notebook did not have facts. You wouldn’t have bothered us. We’re worried about you.”

“You’re not suppose’ to be worried about me! That’s against the rules! I think…?” she flips through the pages helplessly, as though hoping to find the answer.

“It isn’t.” he rests his hand on the notebook, drawing her attention back to him, “There aren’t any rules that you’re supposed to follow anymore. We’re worried because we care about you and you had a stressful day.”

“There are rules! I can’t break them.”

“Marinette. Remember? The rules are wrong. You and I went over that notebook.”

“Right.” She hesitates, “But that was before today. I yelled at Alya.”

“She was yelling at you.”

“But I des-” she cuts herself off, “I’m sure she had a reason?”

He sighs in relief that she doesn’t think she deserved that, “Even if she did, you’re allowed to stand up for yourself.”

She nods reluctantly.

“I think you should talk with the others too though. They’re worried. They want to be able to help you too.” “…what about you?” She's looking at him strangely. It’s vaguely familiar, but he can’t place it.

“Of course I-”

“No. You have to go there tomorrow. Alya will be mad. Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve become a houseplant to them. I’m background noise - Lila’s armrest.” He shrugs, this is his norm.

Marinette doesn’t seem to have taken the same approach, “That bitch.” Adrien startles, at this, “All of them need to treat you better. This isn’t okay.”

“So they aren’t perfect, good people?”

“No! They’re mean to you!” She sounds indignant, “They just let Lila harass you and only encourage her! They shouldn’t be supporting that!”

“So maybe they were unfairly mean to you too?” he suggests.

“I… I don’t know,” she turns her head away, “It’s different.”

Placing a gentle hand to her cheek, he makes her face him once more, “I’m not so sure it is.”

A few tears escape, but she remains silent.

“How about this? The last thing you need now is to dwell on people who aren’t worth your time, so if you want to, we can put this conversation on hold until you’re ready.”

She nods.

“So what shall we do, princess? This loyal knight is at your service.” He bows dramatically as best he can while sitting on her bed.

The soft laugh he gets out of her is music to his ears.

“I don’t think I’m up for much,” Marinette admits sheepishly, barely getting the words out before a yawn over takes her. Her face flushes slightly.

A very Chat grin takes over Adrien’s face.

“No. Don’t.” Marinette glares at the boy, the look on her face finishing the thought for the both of them.

“Don’t what?” He is the picture of innocence.

“Don’t make a pun about-”

“A pun?! Why, prrr-incess, you wound me!” he puts his hand to his chest in mock offense, “I would never. Everyone knows that most puns are just pointless yawn sequiturs! I would never, ever, waste yo-”

He never gets to finish his sentence, as Marinette cuts him off by hitting him over the head with a pillow.

He squawks in affront, ducking under her next assault.

“How could you attack a defenseless kitten like that? And your best fur-end at that!” He reaches for a pillow, not about to let her get away with this. Not without a fight.

“Not with puns like that you aren’t!” Marinette aims the pillow at him again, but he just barely shifts out of the way in time to dodge the hit.

“Marinette!” He admonishes, “You shouldn’t insult a pun, especially before it’s fully groan! That could really hurt its shelf esteem,” he gestures beside him to her many shelves, grinning like his cheshire namesake.

His momentary distraction is all it takes for her to land another attack, wiping his smirk off with another pillow to the face.

Adrien takes his opportunity, dealing a blow to her side while she’s withdrawing her arms.

Their fight devolves from there. Swinging their respective pillows at each other wildly, they do their best to take the other down, despite being somewhat restricted by staying in the loft.

Eventually, they’ve both exhausted themselves - not that either of them would admit it, of course. As partners they are evenly matched and know each other far too well to give either of the pair a step up.

They sit on their knees on her bed, facing each other. Pillows rest in front of them, fight put on hold while they caught their breath.

“My first pillow fight,” Adrien manages between pants.

“Heh,” Marinette manages, “Congrats.”

“Which means I intend to win!” Before she can even truly register his words, he jumps towards her, scooping her up and holding her tightly.

“I won!”

She giggles, booping his nose, “That you did, mon minou.”

He bleps at her in response, and she returns the gesture. They both break down into a shared fit of laughter, one that doesn’t seem likely to stop anytime soon.

That is, until Marinette breaks into a yawn.

“Aww! Is the princess tired?”

She glares at him, sticking her tongue out defiantly, “No, I’m just-” she’s cut off by another yawn.

He grins, “Oh, is that so? Well, if that’s the case, then it’s my job as your partner to enforce your bedtime.”

“Adrien,” she gives him a look, but he doesn’t bat an eye. He puts the pillows back where they belong, though keeps her held close.

Turning around he flops onto the pillows, keeping himself propped up slightly. He tugs her hand lightly, trying to convince her to rest.

“Hugs? Purr-ty please?” He bats his eyes at her, “I’m touch starved and all that!”

Marinette gives a long-suffering sigh, the kind that only comes from having a superhero partner like him.

Adrien tugs her hand gently once more, and she flops forward onto him. She knows that if she could see his face he’d have that look. When he’s all too proud of himself for having gained the upper hand. Instead, she shifts herself to be more comfortable, resting her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. She drapes her arm across him, and he holds her closer to him with a strong arm on her back.

“Alley cat.” Marinette mutters with false bitterness.

He purrs and runs his hands through her loose hair, “I’m your alley cat though.”

“You are.”

She hums happily when his purr picks up at her words. The world begins to get fuzzy as she starts to get closer to the edge of sleep.

She thinks he may have shifted slightly to put a blanket over them, but they’ve returned to their original position before she can make her complaints known. This is probably the warmest she’s ever been, in or out of winter. Marinette can’t imagine how she survived last year, only seeing Chat and being able to cuddle with him during patrols.

Her mind floats around, not focusing on anything in particular. For now she is perfectly content to enjoy the moment. Adrien’s steady pulse and untroubled purring in her ear.

With snow coming down all the time, she is never fully able to relax. There is always that voice in the back of her mind telling her that she should be hibernating. That she’s not safe while she’s out and about.

And yet, now the voice is silent. Maybe drowned out by the purrs or just because she’s resting and inside.

She feels safe. That much is clear. And warm, not just because of the blanket. Adrien is a gift.

It’s unfair that he doesn’t know how great he is. He deserves to know just how much he matters to her.

“Kitty?” her voice is soft, barely audible even to her. She reaches over and grips his free hand in her own just to be sure she has his attention.

Little did she know she’d never lost it.

“Yes, Bugaboo?” He keeps his voice soft, having heard the sleepiness in her voice.

“I love you.”

He squeezes her hand, “I love you too, ma chérie.”

Evidently thinking the conversation is over, Adrien returns to combing through her hair.

“Kitty,” she starts again.

“Yes?” He’s patient and her heart swells.

Despite the fact that she isn’t at her most eloquent when on the verge of sleep, she tries her best, “Love you. Y’ make me feel safe… An’ warm… An’ you’re nice when I do som’thin’ dumb, and …you ‘re alw’ys patien’ wh’n I stutter’d… n’ you’ purr good...  Gab’iel is mean but you not, an’ you…” Marinette is talking herself into sleep, slowing down and stumbling over her words over, but Adrien hangs on every word, “an’ you re’lly good, an’ ‘re the bes’ par’n’er…” from there Marinette seems to attempt to say more, but it only comes out as mishmashed gibberish.

Adrien sits for a moment. Stunned. He already knew that she loved him - there wasn’t any doubt - but there is something different about someone listing off all the reasons they love someone.

He quickly realized he had been a fool, thinking he couldn’t possibly love her more than he already had.

“Thank you, Mari,” he manages. She gives a simple response of a light hand squeeze, humming happily. It’s not long until she’s properly asleep.

Adrien sits against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. He knows he has to leave eventually, but Marinette only just fell asleep. He’d hate to wake her up. She deserves the rest. Besides, there’s no harm in staying a little longer right?

He can feel her soft breathes from her spot on his chest, and his advanced ears can hear every inhale and exhale. Her soft hair is still tangled around his fingers. Everything reminds him of her, and he almost feels as though he’s going to choke on the love flooding his being.

Is it too early to think about his wedding vows?

---

Author’s Note: How about that ending? It was originally shorter and different, and, as much as I liked it, I felt like I could do better. Maybe I'll post the 'deleted scene' (if you will) some other time. Anyways, I really liked how that turned out.

What do you think of the 'No Rules, Just Reminders'? I based them mostly off of the original rules, as well as sprinkling in a few other things Marinette needed to hear.

As you can see, Marinette is definitely doing better. I like to think of the winter as a 'reset' for her. Pre-winter, she's focussed solely on how terrible she is. Of course, it's hard to focus on that and simultaneously stay awake and functional. Not that it fixed her, but it's easier to teach her healthier thinking patterns when she's barely able to think of how she's supposed to disagree. Does that make sense? I can clarify if necessary. I'm prepping this update again the night before (first time in a while) and listening to a true crime podcast at the same time. Tired + typing while listening = nonsensical results.

The next chapter takes place the next day, so we'll see how Adrien deals with school after this incident. There's a special surprise at the end of the school day that will definitely be... notable.

Thank you all for commenting so much! Also, if any of you checked my tumblr and are concerned (*cough*Claude*cough), I 100% guarantee that all these precious characters are definitely, completely, totally fine.

Anyways, I haven't been writing in so long, so that ending rewrite was a nice practice. I hope you enjoyed!

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave any thoughts, theories, constructive criticism, or anything really in my ask box, in replies or through reblogs. I love seeing what you think!

First | Previous | Next

#miraculous ladybug #transfer #with time #fanfic #chameleon salt #miraculous tendencies #miraculous side effects #winter #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ml Felix #allan #Claude #allegra #strong language #alya cesaire #self-esteem issues #angst #fluff #quantic kids

[nemobookaholic]

What if…

I don‘t know if this is a mistake or not, but it feels like the universe is giving me signs to do this,… so here I go.

Recently I‘ve started to write a Loki fanfic. I was so anxios about the english grammar, that I asked a friend to check on it. She read it and told me, it‘s not that bad. But she‘s still very busy and even if I asked her, to check on the grammar and send it back to me, it feels like it takes like forever. And this happens to me with all my betas and all the storys I gave away. I‘m still afraid to do this step, but I want it out there. Today it feels, like I have to or miss the chance, so here is the first part of ‚What if…‘ I hope it‘s not that bad and I would be happy about constructive criticism.

What if... Loki where a 21st century woman?

Scene 1

‘I hate this place! Not that I haven’t seen worse, but it’s dangerous, even for me. I’m starving, this whole planet is inhospitable! It’s more than time to leave. Only that using the Tesseract to teleport, takes a lot of power... wouldn’t be that hurtful, if I hadn’t had to escape from, in my opinion, this way too annoying bastard. And he still follows me somehow. By Odin's beard, I should have killed him the time I had the chance. Stabbed him in the back, of course, just without the expected result. Since I’ve left my originally realm, a lot of things happened, mostly not to my satisfaction. Me sitting on the throne I deserve wasn’t one of it. The only higher court is this piece of stone I am sitting on. Would be utterly boring, to rule this world. It doesn’t even deserve that name, it’s a desert. Thinking about it, why not go and visit Midgard again? I haven’t seen my brother in ages and I guess that’s the place to meet him. I gain all the power the planet spare with me and use it, to start a new, different adventure. One that might bring some mischief!’

We see Loki disappear from the stone dessert. Where he sat seconds before, like it would have been the throne of Asgard, legs open and hands on the rocks that surrounded him. Eying the environment with disgust, out of a pale face and dark rings under his bloodshot eyes.

Everything he leaves behind is a blue gleaming, which last for a while, until it fades completely. In the end there is nothing left to proof his short residence.

Scene 2

We are inside a crowd. In a well known theatre, that has an open roof and reminds us of an wooden O. It’s dark outside, but the crowd standing around us, keeps us warm. We stare up to the actors on stage, who are playing a fairy tale in a midsummer night’s dream. Suddenly the people around us start to whisper and raise their heads. We follow their sight to the balcony where a man, bound in leather and with golden horns on his head, stands. Obviously he isn’t part of the cast. Voices, about some promotion gag, becoming louder. How well do we know about Loki from all those movies and comics? But this guy is new and definitely not Matt Damon. As we can see, he isn’t just playing a role and his behaviour is far from method acting. His fascial expressions are extraordinary, like a man who literarily came from another dimension. We can read from his body language, how much he enjoys the crowd cheering at him. Until a sudden change on his face shows us a second of fear, like he had just remembered something. Indeed he is hiding it pretty well, as we start to question our power of observation, thats how fast he got back control.

Loki is leaving gracefully, walking backwards and that’s the last thing we see of him.

‘Those puny mortals are staring at me. They seem pleased by my appearance. It’s joyful to have them cheering at me, quite different to my last visit. Thinking of it makes me realise, I’m not out of danger yet! How could I forget about this stupid Agency, that is somehow connected with Thor. It wasn’t a good idea to show my face to all those people. Maybe one of them is in the crowd, already calling for the bloody Avengers - this time I don’t have an army to my support. Even if I’d decimated their number last time, who can tell if they didn’t recruit more, since I’ve been gone? I’ll have to go now! I’m able to get out of here without losing my face. A god doesn’t run away, even though it would be wise to get disguised for a little while. Of course I could become an animal, but that’s what Thor would expect of me and probably figure it out quickly. No, I have to do something he would never expect. Speaking the spell, I think of all the women I know, with mother leading the way - for fathers sake am I tired! Didn’t even realise it until this very moment. I feel the darkness coming closer, as I slide down some wall, sense my body transforming right before the darkness takes over.’

We caught Loki again, sitting on a corner, head leaning against the wall behind him, eyes closed. His body looks strange. It’s difficult to see the shape of it, like you would try to see trough some fog, surrounding his skin. His hair becomes lighter every second until it reaches the colour of sand. We can’t see it, but even his body shrinks a little. The wardrobe changes from asgardian to, probably stolen out of Natashas closet. Loki wears black jeans, a green t-shirt and a also black leather jacket now. Underneath the shirt a breast starts to grow, while other ‘things’ become less until they disappear. This is so much more than a simple illusion and Loki can be happy about being unconscious, so he doesn’t have to feel the pain of his transformation.

Scene 3

As for Loki, we know he is a clever fellow. Maybe that’s what brings doom on his own occasion. We remember, he is a she now and she’s still sitting there, holding the Tesseract, which slowly slips from her hand.

To give us certainty, yes he used it as a source of power to make a true transformation, not willingly though. He was at a state of weakness, where he didn’t think much about his actions. And he needed the support, as for this world we can sense slight traces of magic. Of course every use of sorcery has it’s price and we can assume, that if Loki had seen the bill, he probably wouldn’t be willing to pay for it.

Anyway, events have been started and we will have to live with the consequences. For Loki it means, that there is an orange circle appearing out of nothing, not noticed by her mindless shell. Just a small one, producing a quiet sound, like wind howling trough grass. Out of this hole in time and space, we see a hand appearing, grabbing for the blue glowing cube. Taking it out of reach for the mischievous god.

She will sleep now, for a long while. Trying to regain some power. What she doesn’t know is the fact, that the dimension she slipped in so careless, doesn’t contain much witchcraft. What, well hopefully, will keep her busy, so the other realms can recover, at least, from her evil deeds.

And her slumber won’t be broken. Not even as two strangers cross Lokis path. For them it’s a broken, but still beautiful woman, sleeping in an unusual place. We sense the compassion on their faces. They share a long moment of silent conversation, just by expressions. The woman, a goth girl, seems to be wary about what she reads in the face of her companion. The guy indeed seems to be unafraid. He gets closer, grabbing Loki at her shoulder, shaking her. She shows no reaction at all.

‘Is she dead?! We should get help,’ the female says.

‘Still breathing. Don’t be such a chicken! I think she might be one of our kind … let’s take her home and allow her to rest,’ the guy replies.

‘You are serious, aren’t you? I can’t believe, I even consider helping you … come on then!’

The both of them take the girl between them, pulling her up, slowly starting the long walk home. It looks rather funny, for Loki is a tall woman and these strangers are smaller than her. They haul her more as you could describe it as carrying, but at least they’ll reach a house that they get into.

Meanwhile Loki still doesn’t move any bone, would have been helpful with the stairs actually. We don’t know if she realises anything of what is happening, but according to the abuse done to her body we may doubt it. Even when they drop her into a bed, she’s like a corpse.

‘Kevin, do you really think this was a good idea?’ the woman asks.

‘Come on Beatrix. Don’t you think it’s what humanity claim from us? I will sit with her and wait until she wakes, if it brings peace to you. You can go to bed if you like.’

The guy smiles at her and she can’t help herself and smiles back.

‘You are too kind for this world, you know?’ she kisses him on the forehead and leaves the room. Giving the burden of a long night’s watch to him, as he’d requested.

Scene 4

‘This must be a dream, I guess it by the fact, that mother is with me. Her soft touch, the calm voice and the love I feel while she looks at me, are far away from me these days. I miss her, knowing well what’s going to happen once I’ll return to Asgard, keeps me away from there. It isn’t my home anymore and that’s what will make her safe. We always had a strong connection, that’s why I believe her, when she tells me, to find my own way. Even if I know perfectly that it’s just a dream, her next words are predictable as she tells me to seek happiness in what I have. Only that I own nothing at all, I was promised a throne! Mothers eyes darken, like she could read my thoughts. She turns her back on me. I call out to her, knowing what’s going to happen next. As in all those dreams before, I see her dying.

No matter how hard I try, I can’t change her fate. It’s like I’m cursed, every time I come close to her, she’s dying.

“Mother …,” it’s just a whisper of disbelieve on my lips, yet it’s enough to wake me from this horrible dream. Watching myself causing her death again and again, doesn’t lose any of it’s horror. Through a shroud of tears I blink my way into reality. I can’t remember what happened. The ceiling I’m staring at, doesn’t look familiar to me. My tong licks over my dry lips, don’t know the last time I actually drank something? My stomach hurts, food seems to be even longer ago. I’m weak and I hate knowing so. I use all my senses, to get more informations about my whereabouts, as I am unable to move. There is some comfort in the way I lie, a pillow under my head and a blanket that keeps me warm. Knowing all this, doesn’t really help me to figure, where I am or how I get here. The try to sit up and have a better view got amiss, I’m far to weak. A sight of surprise escapes my throat and I fall back into the down.

‘Are you finally awake?’ a voice from my right asks and I manage to turn my head, to see who was talking. A redhead caught my sight, he looks quite young. It’s not easy to tell with those Midgardian folks. ‘How are you? Feeling a bit better?’ he smiles at me, trying to make me trust him, I suppose. NOBODY ever ask me, how I feel!

‘Am I your prisoner?’ is the first thing I need to know.

‘No, god no! Why would you think … never mind. Of course you are free to leave any time. But you are also allowed to stay, if you need help,’ is the reply.

I try to figure out what kind of game he’s playing, but it doesn’t occur to me. It makes no sense. I’m staring at him in silence.

‘Don’t know what you had to go trough till now, however I promise you’re perfectly safe with me. Uhm - maybe it calms you - if I tell you that I’m gay? I won’t touch you. And if that isn’t enough, I could call for my flatmate. She helped to bring you here by the way.’

Does that little scum really believe, I, the god of mischief, would be scared by a mortal?! And how does it make things any better, if he adds his sexual interest - oh wait - I completely forgot about the disguise I’m in. Of course he must mistaken me for a weak creature like himself.

‘I am a goddess and not afraid of your puny, gay presence!’ I tell him to demonstrate how less I’m impressed.

‘Uuuuhm, ‘kay?’ now the redhead is staring at me. Not the effect I had in mind. He seems more fascinated than afraid. There is more, even when he’s hiding it well, an expression of anger crosses his mimic for a second. ‘Listen, if I where you, I would think carefully about my next words, cause if you are one of those homophobic assholes, you can go back from where you’ve come!’ Now we have context.

‘Ehehehe. You have no idea who you are talking to, do you? Where I come from, nobody cares about the gender of your love. I didn’t meant to make an insult on that topic, you insisted on being so. I wanted to warn you, that I am dangerous. But as words seem to have no effect on you, take this!’ with these words I grab for the Tesseract in my magic pocket, just to find it isn’t there. ‘Where IS IT? Did you maggots dare to steal the stone from me? I am Loki of Asgard and you are a dead man, if you don’t tell me where you’ve put my belongings!’ I yell at him, this time pulling out a knife. The mortal keeps his hands up in defence.

‘First of all, you didn’t carry any belongings with you, as we picked you up. Second, you really believe all those shit you are saying, don’t you? That’s quite of interest to me and I may be able to help you. Third and last, threaten me with a butterknife hasn’t the impact on me, you might think. I’ve experienced worse, you know,’ he looks at me, like I’ve gone mad. I however look down at my hands to find , well not what I’d expected. What is wrong with this dimension? The knife disappears.

‘Take me back to the place where you’ve found me,’ I press the words through my lips, trying to stand up, failing again.

‘If I promise to get you back there, would you behave for the rest of the day?’ he’s waiting for an answer. As I’ve said enough already, I just mutter my approval. ‘Good. Anyway, you’ll have to wait, cause it is closed right now. We’ll be there by the time it opens, to search for your stone.’

‘Tesseract! It’s a blue glowing cube.’

‘Yeah, whatever. We’ll seek for it, I promise.’

‘Sounds like the stuff Hina keeps talking about,’ a rasping voice comes from outside the room, ‘what kind of freak did we brought in here Kevin?’ a woman appears in the door, examining me and so do I. She has a strange colour of hair, that is somewhere between grey and light blue - but not the right age for it - half of her head is shaved, while on the other side the hair grows over the shoulder. She looks skinny, not in a very healthy way. She might be a warrior. At least her clothes look like she had a fight, all black and ripped into pieces. Now that I’m on the case, I get a closer look on the redhead too. He appears neat and well-fed, nothing unusual about him. Even his style is screaming: “I’m like everybody else.” Maybe except the golden ring in his right ear. I can’t understand, how both of them can be friends, not to talk about the third party, in which room we obviously are. There are colourful pictures all over the walls, a lot of books and art supplies spread across the desk next to the window. How can anybody life here on free will?

‘Does she has a name?’ the woman breaks the silence, asking her friend but still looking at me. He seem uncomfortable with the situation, that’s why I introduce myself.

‘I am Loki of Asgard.’

‘Sure and I’m Jesus Christ! What’s wrong with you?’ she waves her hand in front of her face, I do not know for what reason.

‘I beg your pardon, daughter of Christ, everything is completely fine with me! It’s not my fault, your tiny brains can’t keep up with a god.’ If looks could kill, we would be dead by now. She indeed has something of a warrior.

‘Woah, bitchfight! Calm down ladies,’ Kevin tries to ease the situation. I don’t know if it’s him who finally breaks the ice, or my stomach, that is rumbling loudly into the silence. I’m ashamed because of the betrayal caused by my own body. My cheeks feel hot all of a sudden.

‘See? Maybe we should all have breakfast first, afterwards we can come back to the topic,’ another short silence follows to Kevins words and he must have taken it as agreement, cause he gets up, leaving the room, gently pushing the girl aside. She follows him, not without giving me a last evil look.

My leg slips out of the bed, carefully, followed by the other one. It takes some effort to get up, in the end I stand on my unpleasant feet. Looking down, the difference isn’t to suppress. It was easy with the female voice, as I’m used to different illusions. The new point of view however, let me figure out some things. On my way out of the room I walk past a mirror. After a short glance I have to stop and walk back, to get a closer look. The spell I’ve used works perfectly, way to perfect! I can’t trust mine eyes. My hand wanders across my new face and I can’t but accept the tiny differences. Not that it would bother me, how familiar I still look to myself, it’s more the fact that everything is so damn real. I’ve tried this kind of magic more than once, it never worked quite well. So how come, I was able to work such a difficult spell on the edge of my powers? Something is going on here and I need to find out about it. Plus I need to get the Tesseract back. Thinking back, I’m already sorry, I’ve left the last planet.’

Scene 5

Loki is sitting inside a small kitchen, sipping on a cup of tea, so do his new flatmates. The atmosphere is in low spirits and all we can hear is the noise of their dishes. It’s obvious, the Midgardians don’t believe a single word she had told them, oddly enough they want to help her, for reasons we shall find out, as the story continues. Yet here they are, remain silent, until we start to wonder who’ll be the first one to talk again?

‘Do you feel better now?’ of course it would be Kevin, what did you think? ‘A nice little cupper and some beans with eggs always have been the best way to have a good start into the day, isn’t it?’ he grins like a Cheshire cat, obviously food is his guilt pleasure. Loki just sits in the corner, raising one eyebrow, while Beatrix seems to relax a bit.

‘That’s what I love you for, you know. Just that stupid grin,’ she giggles.

‘What you mean stupid? Is it a crime to be happy after some good food?’ Kevin looks puzzled and Bea starts to laugh. They fill the room with joy, but can’t pass it on to Loki, who still sits in her corner, without moving, or even showing some empathy. There is just this sad look on her face, we can only guess about. Maybe it is, because she’s reminded of all those times she saw Thor and his friends, having fun like that. Or it is, cause she never was a part of the group, but always watched from aside. Probably she doesn’t know it herself, nonetheless it makes her aware of the big gap between them and how impossible it seems, to ever be on that side of the table. To be the one who laughs with friends.

She can’t get away soon enough.

‘Is it time now to seek for my lost item? - Please,’ she adds after a short break. Must have come to her mind, that they’ve shared their food with her, so the try to be a bit more kind isn’t all waisted time. Not that it make her care.

But how can we know, by just watching the expressions on Lokis face? Well we don’t, but we know her well enough to interpret every tiny movement, ain’t we?

‘You see, it wasn’t that hard,’ Kevin smiles again and takes a look onto his watch, ‘we’ll need a bit more patience. One more hour and we can go,’ he tells Loki, who’s wriggling on her chair.

‘I probably shall not feel like it, but I’m still hungry. Glancing at the girl, who has barely even touched her food. I can’t help myself, but staring at her plate in desire. I can’t remember, the last time I have been that hungry, to forget all my manners.

‘Bea love, are you eating any of this yet?’ Kevin must have followed my sight, what makes me look away in shame.

‘Nope,’ is all she says. That’s when he takes the plate and slide it into my direction. I take the offered food and eat it as fast as possible, to not extend this annoying situation. I’m even more ashamed, that I’ve just behaved like my brother would, how pathetic!’

Scene 6

We see Loki and Kevin at the Globe, on the corner where they’ve picked her up. Seeking for the cube, while we can see on her face, how, with every second, she becomes more desperate.

‘It must be here! I’m stuck in this bloody realm if we can’t find it …,’ she mutters in distress.

‘Maybe some stranger picked it up? We can ask, if it was handed over down there?’ Kevin offers.

‘That’s impossible! It’s nothing a mortal could handle!’ she yells at him, throwing her hands in the air.

‘Fine! What would you suggest to do next?!’

‘I DON’T KNOW! I need to think,’ she turns around, walking away.

‘Take your time. I’ll be in the big building next door, if it’s of any interest to you.’

We look after Kevin, as he disappears in the Tate modern, while Loki is taking a walk along the Themse.

‘How? I definitely had escaped the guy and he can’t be that fast in tracking me. It’s impossible. Somebody else must have taken the Tesseract. But who? There is nearly no magic in this world and according to Kevin, nothing like gods or celestial beings to ever be seen. New York wasn’t attacked by the Chitauri and the Avengers are heroes out of comic books. What ever that means. Sure there are a few individuals, who would like to steal the Tesseract, but none of them could come here without it’s powers. What plan could this person follow? It makes no sense … unless … unless they want me to be stuck here. Like a very luxurious prison, I bet Thor or Odin are involved in it! Can’t stand, that I’ve escaped their judgement. To teach me a lesson, probably. Who else would want to keep me here? A world where no ‘harm’ can be done. Pah! Don’t they know me at all, they should know better. A planet with any kind of population can be ruled. Only, this time I need to be smarter. Watching the subjects, learn their habits and find a possibility to submit them. In the end, all of them are going to kneel! Ehehehehe.’

We can’t hear Lokis inner Monolog, but by her evil grin and by the fact, that she turned around and walks quickly into the direction she just came from, we can submit, she has something mischievous in mind.

Scene 7

Loki is entering the Tate, with a couple of tourists. It’s a mystery the guards doesn’t stop her, well maybe not, she must be already aware, of how to use her body the right way. Finally she’s in the building, surrounded by people, who stop, not far from the entrance, to admit the great hall. We can tell from the look an her face, that she isn’t impressed at all. No wonder, there are much bigger buildings in Asgard. Anger is crossing her face. As of course the building is still big and she’ll have to seek for Kevin. She wanders around, visibly relaxing. That’s the magic of art and maybe the place. We follow her, slowly now. Studying one painting after another, strolling through the halls. We might get the impression, she completely forgot about Kevin. She already made it through a few levels, when she spots him. He’s sitting in an armchair, in front of a big glass-wall, staring down at the people walking around downstairs. Loki slips into the chair next to him.

‘Did you find your cube?’ Kevin asks.

‘No …,’ she braces her head into her hands. They sit in silence for a while, watching the people who have the size of ants, from their point of view.

‘Why don’t you look at the paintings, instead of staring down there?’ Loki can’t find much amusement in doing so.

‘I like to study people. That’s my job and I can’t turn it off. Right before you’ve joined me, there was a couple sitting next to me and I’ve been listening to their fight. It was pretty interesting and I might had followed them, if I didn’t figure, you should be up here every minute. I saw you enter the building. Took you a while to find me, aye?’ Kevin leans back in his chair, finally looking at Loki.

‘I have been learning about the midgardian paintings. Some of them are quite beautiful,’ she shrugs her shoulders, ‘so you get payed for spying on people?’ We recognise interest flickering on her face.

‘Hahaha, no. Not in the way you might think. I’m a psychologist-to-be. People come to me and tell me their problems and I’ll analyse how to help them. Explains my manic interest into other peoples behaviour. Talking of it, I thought, you would be an interesting case. Would you allow me, to have a few sessions with you? You don’t have to do it for free of course.’

‘Now he comes to the point, about what he was hiding from me. I knew, this guy was up to something. Waiting patiently for his offer, so I can see, if it’s worth my time. He seems to think for a moment, probably about how to formulate it, before he speaks again.

‘As I’ve figured, you don’t have a place to stay for longer?’ he asks and I nod, ‘so in case you agree, we could come to an arrangement. You can stay in Hinas room, she’ll be away for a while. In return I want an hour every second day, where you will answer my questions honestly. Without any pressure, I promise. How does that sound to you?’

What an unique offer, he surly doesn’t know much about me.

‘I agree, but under one condition, you’ll have to answer my questions too. Do we have a deal?’

We shake hands, no more words needed. This was way too easy.’

#loki of asgard #marvel #loki #fanfic #mcu #mcu fanfiction

[deathmetalvomitparty]

Vampire Mary Goore that will pretend to be dead for a while just to sneak easily into morgues to have access to free blood and bodies (depending on lore some vampiric creatures consume flesh as well). It's kind of like taking a nap for a while and then waking up to a buffet. What he wasn't expecting was the very attractive mortician working weird hours when he thought everyone would be gone. pt. 1/2 - Vic

Cue vampire Mary Goore having to make a choice between feeding on the hot mortician who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time or having some fun with them. Cue fucking on an autopsy table with feeding and light bloodplay. Both parties leave very satisfied. Pt. 2/2 -Vic

Wow, I guess you could say you’re really… out for blood with these asks, huh Vic?

Since he has no pulse, doesn’t breathe, and quite frankly looks like a day old cadaver even on his better days, they snatched his ass right up and shipped him off to the county coroner without any question. 

On waking up, he stretches, yawns, and walks over to the cooling unit built into the wall as if it were the refrigerator in any old kitchen. Also of note is the fact that, according to protocol, the body is typically stripped in preparation for processing, be it an autopsy, embalming, what have you. Not that Mary bothers (or cares) to hide his shame, even when the mortician comes back in with their mask and gloves right as he sinks his teeth into the oversized man-shaped juice box he just dragged off of it’s rack. Mary jerks back and spits all over the floor, not out of shock at the sight of them, but out of pure disgust. 

“Ugh, fuck! What is this shit?” 

Both he and the coroner look at the thin, reddish-pink fluid all over the tile. Then at each other. Then back down at the mess. 

“He’s… he’s been embalmed…” they stammer bluntly as if it should have been painfully obvious. Slowly, they begin to back up, hoping to reach the double doors. Maybe if they’re quick enough, they can bolt upstairs and into the office before– 

The body falls gracelessly from Mary’s arms with a thud, overriding the coroner’s flight response with the need to save their… client from such an undignified position. Mary makes no move to help, only watching in mild amusement, crooked smile gracing his features, as the coroner struggles with the weight of the body. They finally manage to set everything in its right place and immediately begins to fret over how they’re going to explain and cover those horrible teeth marks. When Mary’s fingertips make gentle contact with the nape of their neck, they can’t exactly bring themself to pull away; the icy touch on their skin has an almost calming effect, soothing their panic almost immediately. What does give them pause, however, is the faint sound of Mary sniffing them. 

Their head snaps to look at Mary, whose face is much, much closer than they were anticipating. Though the coroner steps back to put some distance between them, Mary doesn’t move; his gaze merely flicks up to meet theirs. What the fuck is this whackjob playing at? 

“Thought you’d smell like peppermint.”

He smiles.

…Wait.

“Excuse me?”

“I thought you guys had to put stuff under your nose to mask the smell of decay. Like in Silence of the Lambs. They used peppermint,” he trails off a bit, seemingly abandoning this train of thought in favor of stepping forward to close the newfound distance. The coroner’s skin flushes, a bit of nervous sweat beading on their brow. Even under more mundane circumstances, they never were all that great when it came to talking to someone so…

No. There’s absolutely no way this was happening. He was dead. They confirmed that themself the moment that body wound up on their table. 

“Glad you didn’t, though,” Mary whispers, almost inaudibly. He gently nuzzles into their neck, pushing the high collar of their lab coat aside with his nose. “You smell so good.”

They stammer for a moment while their mouth tries to catch up to their brain.

“Using something like peppermint would make the smell worse, actually, since it would open the nasal passages wider, you get used to the smell, really,” they mumble dismissively, slamming the drawer closed and pushing Mary back again with a firm hand to his chest. 

His bare chest.

God damn it, he’s still naked. 

Don’t look, don’t look, don’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlook– Fuck! 

They mentally curse themself for being so damned good at their job and wanting to get started as soon as possible. Should’ve just left him in those rags he came in with, though judging by how tight those jeans were, they wouldn’t have fared much better. Mary grins that same sly, sharktoothed grin and the coroner has to try very hard not to focus on how hot their face is and the fact that their heart is practically beating in double time, especially compared to Mary’s distinct lack of all of the above. 

Already sick of their cat and mouse waltz of backing away and closing in, Mary bars his arms on either side of the coroner, gripping the sides of the embalming table they’ve unknowingly cornered themself against. The coroner’s goggles are beginning to fog up. 

“I don’t even have a pulse, why don’t you help me figure out another way to get my blood flowing,” Mary says, barely able to restrain a shiteating grin. Their heart leaps in their chest at the upward intonation of Mary’s voice as he fights to hold down a laugh. The coroner finds themself chuckling as well, even though it honestly wasn’t all that funny to begin with. Pushing their goggles up onto their forehead and placing a gloved hand on the back of Mary’s neck is apparently all the go-ahead he needed to yank the surgical mask down, leaving it hanging around their neck in favor of claiming their lips in a harsh, toothy kiss. They don’t know what exactly it is that’s come over them, but they can’t complain. The thrill of it all sends shivers down their spine.

For how cold he is, it shockingly isn’t all that strange or unpleasant, as his tongue runs insistently across the seam of their lips, begging for entry. The coroner’s mouth falls open with a moan when Mary nips a little too hard at their bottom lip. It doesn’t take any convincing at all to get them up onto the table, Mary himself following soon after, with their legs around his waist and hands in his hair. They decide that wondering how exactly Mary managed to get hard enough for his cock to be felt against their thigh is unimportant for the time being, instead focusing on the slow, insistent grind of his hips and the way he just won’t stop going back to nuzzling at their throat. 

The lab coat is shucked off and left to fall behind the coroner on the table, with their shirt following shortly after while Mary gets to work on practically tearing his way through everything else. Arousal thrums through every inch of their body, drowning out all common sense and impulse control. They can always get new scrubs later.

Once the coroner is undressed and laid out carefully on the lab coat to protect against the chill of steel, Mary licks a long trail up the side of their neck, nibbling a little with his teeth as if trying to test just how thin that stubborn skin is. A firm grip on his jaw is just enough to pry his attention away from the blood thrumming just beneath the surface of their unmarred skin and get him to focus his gaze on the coroner themself. Fingers are unceremoniously shoved into his mouth; his sharp upper canine scrapes the back of their index finger and Mary moans loudly, eyes losing focus momentarily at the coppery taste. He recovers from his mild surprise rather quickly and sets to sucking on their fingers – though he’s probably missing the point of the act. Or purposely ignoring the task at hand entirely in favor of lapping at the wound. His cock twitches where it lay against the line of the coroner’s hip. They make a mental note to read some vampire lit sometime… you know, for research. 

“You’re a mess,” they say before they can stop themself. 

Mary pulls away from their fingers, a bit of red on his teeth, and sighs, never stopping his rutting. 

“Because you’re teasing me.” 

His voice is rough, harsh, but not necessarily angry. If the way he’s grabbing and grinding them against him is anything to go by, they get the sinking feeling that they would know if he was getting truly frustrated. The coroner can’t help but laugh, letting their head fall back onto the table, baring their throat to him as they sink their wet fingers inside of themself. Mary hisses through his teeth at the sight and dips down to run his tongue over their skin, enjoying how he can feel the way they gasp at his hands on them, pushing, rubbing, pulling, stroking. 

He still ruts against their hip for a few minutes, even after they deem their prep work “good enough”, and seems satisfied to keep at it until the coroner takes him in hand to guide his cock into them. Nails scratching against the surface, Mary plants his hand beside the coroner’s head to hold himself above them as he slowly pushes completely inside with a long, drawn out groan. Preferring to take care of themself, the coroner pushes one of Mary’s wandering hands aside, whining at the sensation combined with Mary filling them and thrusting shallowly. Tentatively, Mary puts his elongated canines to the soft skin, pushing past the resistance just until the flavor of copper blooms on their skin and on his tongue. It hurts, of course it fucking hurts, but the resulting endorphin rush and blood loss takes some of the edge off, and for some reason, they can’t seem to bring themself to care, not when Mary is fucking into them and moaning so prettily against their skin as he drinks. 

He pulls back to look them in the eye, pressing his palm to the wound on their neck; at first, they assume it’s to staunch the flow, but Mary quickly cuts off their premature questioning when he drags his bloodied hand down their chest and torso to join their own, still working between their legs. The bright crimson seems to encourage him, thrusting hard enough that his hips leave a resounding smack every time. Distantly, the coroner wonders about weight limits and how reliable the foot breaks are on standard issue embalming tables. Their thoughts are interrupted by Mary going back down for more, groaning when his lips close around the wound once again, his hand on them never once letting up or pausing.

“Ffffuck, I’m gonna– nngh!” 

It’s muffled against their neck, but even so, the coroner can hear how positively drunk he sounds, voice thick and slow. Never once does he stop licking at their neck. How much blood does a vampire need to feel full? Do they ever feel full? What about “turning”? Isn’t that how this is supposed to work? Their head is feeling a little light, which is only exacerbated by their rapid approach to orgasm thanks to Mary’s efforts to get them to finish before he does. The growing euphoria makes it difficult to speak, and their clumsy handwork leads to Mary grabbing both of their wrists to pin them above their head while he continues to take matters into his own. 

“Taste so good,” he whispers. “Feel fuckin’ amazing, too. I’ll have to come back and visit sometime, huh? Would you let me in?”

They nod, and Mary laughs, low and dangerous. He licks some blood from his lips, eyeing them down at the increasingly violent tremors in their thighs.

“Close? You gonna cum for me?” His hips slow to a lazy roll, grinding deep while he focuses most of his attention on them; the rest of his attention is devoted to the blood flow that’s now slowed to a trickle. A scarlet halo has fanned out behind their head on the previously pristine lab coat by the time their back and hips arch off the table as if trying to push themselves closer to Mary, a weak groan all they can muster after what he’s put them through. They turn to look at him, insistently trying to sit up and Mary gets the hint after a few seconds, kissing them again and letting them taste themself on him. (Actually, that’s not too bad of an idea… Mary makes a mental note to play around with that more in the future.) His voice is so quiet they’re barely sure they heard it over their own heavy breathing.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” 

Picking up in pace once again, he’s left sensitive and impatient after having been so close to his own orgasm. Fluorescent lighting overhead obscures most of him in shadow, leaving the coroner no choice but to pull him in close with both hands to his neck; his heart would have leapt in his chest had it still been beating when they gently direct him back to the bite on their throat. For a split second, he worries his desperation is showing when he gasps and whines at the display of, for lack of better word, submission and latches onto the now waning stream of blood. He’s so close, if he could just drink a little bit more, get a little bit deeper, move a little bit harder, surely that would be enough… 

The coroner moans and drags their nails down his back when Mary gets frustrated with how quickly the blood has clotted and stopped flowing. He makes moves to bite again and when they cry and whimper (”so good, do it, bite me, fucking bite me, yes”) so close to his ear like that, he almost feels like he has to. This time, he growls, low and feral, cum spilling deep inside of themwhen the coroner screams and clutches at his shoulders as his teeth puncture skin, sinking back in in one swift movement. The bite wasn’t intended for him to feed from, but he does so anyway as he rides out his orgasm and comes down from his high, unsure of when exactly his next meal would be. 

He only pulls away when he feels trembling hands pushing him off by his shoulders.  The coroner looks tired, and pale; definitely not the same deathly pallor Mary’s currently sporting, but enough to warrant taking the rest of the day off to lie down. Pressing the sleeve of their lab coat to the puncture wounds on their neck, they start trying (and failing) to gather up the rest of their clothing and make themself halfway presentable. Mary watches and, once again, makes no move to help. He’s done this before. They’ll live. It’ll just hurt to swallow and turn their head for a while. Nothing to worry about.

Once the coroner has gotten redressed (minus lab coat, of course), they find themself at a loss for words. All they can offer is a measly approving comment, to which Mary grins. At least the guy seems amicable enough when he’s… sated, and they fall into some easy, not-entirely-awkward conversation and basic Q&A. Slowly but surely, their mind wanders back from wherever it disappeared to and they start being able to piece together all the wrong questions.

Where do you even go from this? Coffee? Do vampires like Starbucks? Can he even drink coffee? It’s still early. Would he be able to go outside? Is that a stereotype? Are they being insensitive? They weren’t prepared for this level of weird.

“You’re overthinking,” Mary says from where he’s still laid out on the embalming table, arms behind his head and ankle resting on his raised knee.

“How would you know?” 

Mary smiles, humming happily.

“Do you fuck all your customers like this?” He asks, dodging the question effortlessly, breaking out in a grin when the coroner has to steady themself on a worktable in shock. 

They sputter in disgust, pointing at him, thinking better of their comeback, and making for the double door leading out of the morgue. Just before they reach the exit, they turn on their heel and open their mouth as if to say something, once again cutting themself off and leaving for real. Mary hops off the table and follows. 

“Don’t you even think of coming up here like that! You stay there until I figure something out!” 

He pauses.

“Hey, where are my jeans?” He shouts up the stairs at their retreating back. He’s answered only by the slamming of a door.

Mary waits at the bottom of the stairs. 

He thinks about it for a moment, and then makes his way up to the office. 

“If they threw my boots away, I’m gonna be so fucking pissed.” 

#this post as well as the blog are 18+. just a forewarning #mary goore #not worksafe #im not entirely familiar with ''real'' vampire lore but one time someone told me that in some stories they could charm people and thats all #vampire bat saliva contains an anticoagulant so... #Anonymous #ask

[claralisette]

Clary Listens to Girl in Red

“Clary, Duck!”

Clary hit the floor as soon as her name left Izzy’s lips. She knew what was coming. A crack, and Izzy’s whip obliterated a demon that had been about to land on Clary from the rafters. Clary recovered, quickly, jumping to her feet and impaling the other demon in front of her. It screamed, a horrible sound, and disintegrated into a pool of ash.

It was suddenly quiet again, and Clary could hear the sounds of cars on the street behind them, and the sound of Izzy breathing slightly heavier after that encounter. Clary turned to look at Izzy, expecting her to be three feet away like she was a minute ago. So when she turned, they were nose to nose. Clary inhaled in surprise.

“Are you hurt?” Izzy asked, unbothered. She checked Clary over, while Clary silently stood there, internally trying not to panic whenever Izzy touched her, gently patting her arms, back, and waist. Oh, god, why now? She normally didn’t get like this when they were on a mission. Only when they were hanging out, just chilling, did she let herself, feel….

“Izzy?” Clary said, carefully making sure her feelings were kept out of her voice, “Maybe we should get going. There might be more.”

Izzy, apparently finished making sure New York’s newest Shadowhunter was in one piece, leaned back and flashed her trademark smile. Clary’s heart fluttered, but she was beyond used to that by now. Isabelle’s smile was adorable, sexy, and catching. Clary grinned back.

“We could take them even if there were more.” Izzy said, pulling her long dark hair out of the ponytail that held it.

“That’s true.” Clary said. She headed to the mouth of the alley they had been fighting in, and checked the street. Everything was normal. People had no idea that they could have been eaten by a Shax demon. However, with this street being lined with pubs, and full of drunk party girls and guys, no one really would have noticed anyway.  Clary sheathed her twin daggers. She was relieved they hadn’t been seen; they weren’t even glamoured to be invisible right now. The demons had been following them, and caught them almost by surprise. Almost.

“Hey, Clary, let’s go in there.” Izzy said, pointing at a newer bar.

“Izzy, we’re on duty,” Clary said, shaking her head. Izzy laughed.

“We were on duty, but…” Izzy pointed to a church clock tower in the distance. 2am. Their shift was over. “Come on, it’ll be fun!” Izzy said, dragging Clary out of the shadows and onto the street. Clary smiled. She let Izzy lead her towards the club. There was a line, but Izzy walked right past it. Clary reached up and pulled her red hair out of it’s ponytail, letting it fall down in messy waves. Being a shadowhunter had its perks, and being with Izzy meant that they could flirt their way into any place they wanted.

Out of the corner of her eye, Clary noted the gazes of boys, looking at the two girls. Clary knew what they saw. Two hot girls dressed all in black… and considering she was wearing Izzy’s clothes again (at Izzy’s insistence), they were dressed not only for hunting demons, but also for clubbing.

Izzy barely smiled at the bouncer and he let them in immediately. She smirked at Clary, and Clary knew what she was thinking. That humans were so stupid. Clary had lived as a normal girl, too, until a few years ago, when she turned Eighteen, and her father had tried to take over the world.

They headed straight to the bar. Clary let Izzy order, while she scanned the room. She barely had to concentrate to peel away any glamours that were there. A few vampires were hanging out in the corner. Two werewolves flirting with girls. No one else from the Shadow world. No demons.

“Here.” Izzy thrust a drink into her hand, and Clary rolled her eyes. She drank it, though, and the shots Izzy ordered after that. Why not, right? She didn’t have to be up early tomorrow, and she liked spending time with Izzy…

“Let’s go dance!” Izzy grabbed Clary’s hand brown eyes sparkling as she led Clary to the dance floor, and Clary followed, her head much lighter feeling than when they had entered. Being with Izzy was so easy. She was so chill, so fun, and even though Clary didn’t really like clubbing that much, she liked dancing with Izzy. Or rather, swaying back and forth while watching Izzy dance.

Clary grinned at her best friend and parabatai. Then suddenly, Izzy was much closer, her face inches from Clary’s, hands on Clary’s waist in a way that was different from earlier. What was going on- And then she felt a presence behind her. Ah. Izzy Spun, so that Clary was away from whomever had just tried to touch her. There was a man, of course, but he seemed to be doubled over in pain. Izzy probably hit him. Nice.

His friends were looking though, confused. Clary looked back at Izzy, who smirked at her and leaned in. Wait a minute-

Izzy kissed her, her lips soft, and Clary was sure her brain checked out of the building. She wrapped her hands around Izzy’s torso, a soft sigh escaping her lips without her permission. One of Izzy’s hands tangled in her hair, and Clary pulled Izzy closer, her hand slipping down to grab Izzy’s ass.

It was at that point that Clary wondered if Izzy knew that Clary had feelings for her. Izzy wasn’t stupid, but Clary was sure that Izzy had no idea. If she had no idea before though, she would now, wouldn’t she? Oh. Shit. She would, wouldn’t she?

Izzy pulled away, only to lean in and whisper in Clary’s ear. “Is there anything you want to tell me, Fairchild?” She said.

“Uhh, maybe?” Clary said. Her brain still wasn’t really working properly. Izzy had kissed her, and It was everything she imagined. Izzy laughed softly, and pulled away. Clary thought that maybe she might be mad, until she saw Izzy’s face. She was smirking, but there was something else. Izzy nodded towards the door, and Clary nodded.

When they were outside, Clary took a deep breath. Her head was already feeling better. Izzy led the way back to the alley they had been fighting in earlier.

“Portal. My room. Now.” Izzy said, pointing at the graffitied alley wall. Clary took her stele out of her pocket and obeyed, drawing the portal rune on the wall. And entire section of the wall turned molten, shining and shimmering. Clary barely had time to think of the Izzy’s room before Izzy shoved her into the portal, hard.

Clary fell out of the portal, onto Izzy’s bed. Izzy was already there, the portal gone. Izzy swept over to the door and locked it. Clary sat up. Oh man, was Izzy mad at her? Izzy, however, didn’t look mad.

“Izzy, what-“ Clary said, as Izzy crossed the room back over to her and pressed her lips to Clary’s again. Clary couldn’t even make a noise of surprise, because Izzy had pushed her down and climbed on top of her in the same moment.

“Clary” Izzy moaned against her lips. Clary gasped. Izzy moved her face to Clary’s ear again. “Do you have a crush on me?” She asked, her hands undoing the buttons on the front of Clary’s dress, stroking her hair, her waist, her leg…

“Yes…” Clary said unable to concentrate. She knew Izzy’s dress had a zipper in the back- ah, there it was. She pushed the fabric aside, one hand staying on Izzy’s back, the other one exploring the rest of her body.

Izzy’s hands disappeared for a second, taking the top of her dress off. Clary realized that Izzy hadn’t been wearing a bra, again. She was always Jealous that Izzy’s boobs were small enough to get away with that. Clary pushed Izzy’s dress down farther.

Izzy undid Clary’s bra, immediately playing with Clary’s nipple. “Izzy,” Clary gasped, as Izzy kissed her neck. Clary wanted to touch her, but Izzy was in control, and she wasn’t going to let Clary touch her.

“You’re so freaking beautiful, Clary, oh my god,” Izzy said. “I like you so much-“ She buried her face in Clary’s chest, kissing her. Clary felt like she was on fire. She needed more.

“Izzy please,” Clary said.

“Mmmm” Was the only response she got, which was not good enough.  Time to put hat shadowhunter training to good use, then. With one swift movement, Clary wrapped her legs around Izzy and flipped them over, so that she was on top. She grabbed Izzy’s hand, moving it towards where she needed it, wanted it the most.

Izzy laughed, but she moved aside the fabric if Clary’s underwear, teasing her clit. “Impatient, are we?” She asked.

“Isabelle, you have no idea-“ Clary said, kissing Izzy again. She gently pushed her tongue into Izzy’s mouth, and Izzy let her with a moan

“No idea what-“ Izzy started to ask, but gasped when Clary ran her hand up Izzy’s thigh, and up the skirt of her dress.

“No idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Clary said. Preoccupied with how wet Izzy was. She dragged her finger over Izzy’s underwear, before pushing it aside and slipping a finger inside of Izzy, her thumb finding Izzy’s clit.

“Fuck Clary,” was the response she got. Not good enough. Clary slipped another finger in, playing with her. She curled her fingers forward, searching for that spot…

“You know I’m in love with you, right?” Clary asked.

She was expecting a response, but she did not expect Izzy to cry out, grabbing Clary and pulling her closer, as she came. Clary couldn’t help but smile. Izzy was so beautiful, so gorgeous. “Clary, how do you know how to do that?” Izzy gasped, pulling her down and kissing her. Clary just smirked at her. She was not about to explain that.

“It’s a secret,” Clary said.

“Come her and sit on my face then, sweetheart.” Izzy said. Clary felt her stomach flip.

“W-what?” She said. Isabelle dug her fingers into Clary’s thighs, pulling her forward. Clary obeyed.

“Too tired to get up,” Izzy said, not even bothering to take Clary’s underwear off.

“Oh god, Isabelle,” Clary moaned, as Izzy’s tongue fucking caressed her clit. Clary couldn’t help it, her hips moved of their own accord, and she felt Izzy’s resulting moan reverberate through her. Oh god. And then Izzy’s tongue swirled around her clit and Clary came, Isabelle’s name escaping her lips as a whine.

Izzy’s hands rubbed the back of her legs as Clary sat up, and then slid down to lay beside Izzy, who pulled her close and kissed her.

“Damn, Clary, you should have told me ages ago.” Izzy said after a while, stroking Clary’s hair. Clary didn’t even bother with a response, mostly because she was falling asleep. “Clary?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you need a nude model anytime soon for your mundane school?” Izzy asked, sounding too innocent.

“Izzy if you want me to draw you, all you have to do is ask.” Clary said, smiling, drifting off to sleep in Izzy’s arms.

#clarawrites shadowhunters isabelleandclary claryfray isabellelightwood

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

A Girl’s Best Friend (Peter Parker x OC) - Part 11

Synopsis: Diamonds are man’s best friend- or dogs are girls’ best friends, wait… how does the saying go again?

Warnings: Family issues; Peter has a crush and it’s complicated; mention of assault; good dogs; College AU; aged up! characters; TONY STARK IS ALIVE AND WE ALL LIVE IN A HAPPY PLACE CALLED DENIAL

Word count: 2.9k

Part 10 <<< >>> Part 12

MASTERLIST

“Are you sure?” Peter asked again, for the tenth time in a row, except with a different intonation.

“I am one hundred percent sure, yes,” Ned told him, for the tenth time in a row, with a slightly different phrasing each time. “If you ask me one more time, so help me, I will make the call myself and tell her embarrassing stories about you.”

               Peter scoffed and tried to act confident, fists on his hips in a failed demonstration of self-assurance.

“What embarrassing stories?” he huffed, pretending he didn’t know exactly what Ned was talking about – there were many to choose from. “I don’t care, I’m not ashamed of anything.” That was the fattest lie he had ever told anyone, by a long stretch.

“Would be a first. But fine, I guess I can tell her about your twenty-first birthday part-“

               Peter all but lurched forward to slam his hand over Ned’s mouth, despite being alone in his dorm room with no witness to hear the horrible story of his birthday party. To celebrate him becoming legal, his friends went… a little overboard, to put it nicely, and things quickly escalated from slightly over the top to out of control.

               It was a night Peter hoped to forget one day.

               Just then, Peter’s phone rang, and he knew who it was without checking the caller ID because he had put a personalized ringtone for four people: Ned, who was currently smiling under Peter’s hand, aunt May, Tony, and Emmeline.

“She’s calling!” Peter exclaimed, suddenly withdrawing his hand from Ned’s mouth. He put it on his head instead and pulled on his hair, feeling his heartbeat pick up pace. “What do I do?”

“You answer! That’s what you usually do when your phone rings!” Ned said, pointing out the obvious for his anxious friend. “Take a deep breath, don’t let her know you’re nervous, everything’s gonna go fine.”

“How do you know that?!” Peter whisper-shouted although there was no reason to keep a low voice.

“You just said the date went fine!” Ned whisper-shouted back, starting to feel Peter’s panic rub off on him. “What are you worried about? She’s calling first, it’s a good sign!”

“After two days of radio silence,” Peter pointed out, his phone still ringing.

“Maybe she was waiting for you to call first!” Ned replied. Peter gave him a blank stare, which then turned into guilt with a dash of embarrassment.

“It could be about our assignment too!” he deflected, stubbornly refusing to consider she was well and truly calling him simply because she wanted to talk to him.

               Ned took things into his own hands and snatched Peter’s phone out of his hand to answer the call before he could take it back. Peter made wild hand gestures that were undoubtedly meant to stop Ned from doing just that, but it was too late.

“You’ve reached Peter Parker’s office; how may I help you?” Ned said before Peter could do anything about it expect rake him fingers through his hair to the point of hurting himself a little. He was going to change name, move out of the country, and lay low for the next ten years until Emmeline forgot about this.

“Ned, is this you?” she laughed into the phone. Peter could hear it all because Ned put it on speaker so he couldn’t miss a second of it.

               He mouthed “I’m going to kill you” to his friend, who merely shrugged.

“No Ned here, only Peter’s secretary,” Ned said into the phone, holding Peter at a distance with his free arm and one leg too.

“Well, can I talk to your boss then?” Emmeline asked, playing along.

“Oh, I’m afraid he’s busy at the moment. He’s locked himself in the bathroom an hour ago, I don’t know what’s taking him so long in the shower-“

               Peter had put on one of his web shooters and taken his phone back before Ned could finish his sentence.

“I’ll get back at you for this,” he whispered to Ned before attempting to kick him out of his dorm room.

“Hi? Peter, are you there?”

“Uh- h-hi Em,” Peter said in the phone, quickly turning off the speaker mode. Peter resumed his hectic arm-moving and mouthed angry things at his friend until finally he shooed Ned out of his dorm room. “What’s up?”

               Ned was all too happy to leave now, he felt his mission was accomplished.

“Nothing much, just checking in,” she told him, and he could tell something was off by the tone of her voice. “No, that’s a lie. I wanted to ask you something, sorry.”

               Something was definitely off, he had never heard her sound so nervous or apologetic before, so out of her depth. He felt like he was hearing himself.

“Sure, just ask,” he encouraged her, already knowing he would agree to anything she wanted. He didn’t have the kind of confidence or the will power it took to play hard to get. She got him already.

“It’s gonna sound weird,” she warned him. “I meant to ask you way earlier but kept delaying, it’s a little embarrassing actually,” she admitted. He could picture her pacing around her pristine white living room, rubbing her neck, maybe biting her nails. No, actually Emmeline Gerard would never bite her nails. “Also, it’s worse now that we’ve been on a date, like, I genuinely don’t know how to ask that without making it sound stupid, so I’m just going to say it. Are you still there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m all ears,” Peter assured her, sitting down to prevent himself from anxiously walking back and forth in his tiny room and most likely tripping on some discarded clothes at some point.

               There was a sigh on the other end of the line, and Peter braced himself, not knowing what to expect. What could she possibly want to ask him that required this much introduction?

“Would you mind accompanying me to this year’s Christmas celebration at the Town Hall?”

               His mind went blank, the gears in his brain working as fast as they could to figure out what exactly she was talking about.

“It’s a horrible idea, I’m sorry for asking,” Emmeline immediately said when he didn’t answer right away.

“No- no wait, what is this celebration thing? I-I’d love to come with you, I don’t have any plans!” He jumped from his bed, unable to stay still any longer.

He needed to stretch his legs, and also, he face-palmed himself for the way he had said that last part – as if he only hung out with her because he didn’t have anything better to do.

“Oh, it’s an official thing. There’s a dinner, a gala of sorts, followed by the mayor’s speech on TV. You know, it’s live every year on Christmas Eve,” she explained. “It’s a bit awkward to ask that, I know. My entire family will be there, and I don’t want to sound like the crazy girl who introduces a guy to all her relatives after one date, I just- I swear I meant to ask you weeks ago, and I don’t know who else to ask, and I really can’t do this on my own…”

               The desperation and the hope were clear in her voice, which cracked a little towards the end. That she had a difficult relationship with her family was nothing new, and Peter couldn’t say he was surprised that she didn’t want to attend this event alone. He had never thought that being in the public eye was such a pain before becoming the target of paparazzi himself, although it was his alter ego and not himself that got all the attention.

               But half of his brain was still stuck on the ‘first date’ part, pointing out that it implied a second date was to be expected. Peter’s eyes settled on Tessa’s sleeping figure in the corner, and he thought about all the reasons why he should say no, stay away from the cameras and the mayor, and what if Emmeline brought Bella? His entire cover might get blown up by her dog. How was he planning on dating her without ever meeting her dog? He hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“You don’t have to agree, I’ll just find another way to push through this evening. I get it if it’s too weird, or if it’s not your thing. God, it’s not even my thing, and I’ve been going since childhood-“

“You want me to meet your parents?” Peter cut her off when his brain finally caught up. The tiniest of smirks appeared on his face.

               Emmeline frowned a little, only half sure he was pulling her leg.

“No! I mean yes, I guess, but that’s not the point. Fuck-“ she swore under her breath, obviously holding the phone away from her mouth for a moment. “I’m not asking you because I want to introduce you to my parents, I’m asking because I want you there and they just happen to be a part of this event too.”

“I’m just teasing you, Em,” Peter laughed, picturing the blush on her cheeks quite well.

He didn’t know what was up with that, but she blushed like crazy when he was around, yet he had never seen her get flustered by anything else. Maybe it was another superpower of his. Then again, he wouldn’t be so smug in front of her parents, in front of the mayor of New York city, who was going to glare at him because he was his daughter’s date.

“So what do you say? You’re allowed to say no, I wouldn’t hold it over your head. Trust me, if there was any way for me to get out of this, I would too.”

He swallowed thickly, glancing at his spider-suit hanging on his open closet door. Suddenly, he recalled what Tony had told him days ago, something about the mayor receiving death threats.

Truth was, Peter hadn’t imagined he would spend his Christmas Eve accompanying the girl he liked to an official event broadcasted live on TV while being on the watch-out for possible threats to her father’s life, but then again, nothing ever went according to plan. May wouldn’t like it, but his mind was made.

“Alright,” he said before he could come up with enough reasons to justify saying no – when really it was simply because he was scared. “Wait, it’s official you said, so there’ll be important people. Does it mean I have to wear a suit? I need to find one. Should I bring something? Wine? I don’t know anything about wine but I can ask around-“

               He rambled on about wine for a minute or so, unable to shut his mouth although his brain told him that nothing he could afford would do the trick to seduce Emmeline’s parents if her apartment was any indication of the kind of money they had. Also, should he really be worried about winning over her parents when she so openly talked about her hostile relationship with them?

               He only stopped talking when he heard Emmeline laugh.

“What is it?” he asked, smiling to himself.

“Nothing, I just…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but he heard her chuckle a bit. “Never change anything, Peter.”

 *

 “How do I look?” Peter asked, smoothing over his shirt while looking at his reflection in the mirror.

               Tessa tilted her head then barked.

“Thanks!” He grinned, satisfied though nervous. This brought back awful prom memories with Liz and her father. Hopefully Emmeline’s father wouldn’t turn out to be a villain too, he wasn’t sure he could handle another. “Wish me luck, I’ll need it.”

               When he was sure his Spider suit wasn’t sticking out of his clothes, Peter nodded to himself and put on his coat, ready to go. Opening the window, he fastened his web shooters and jumped off his building.

               On the other side of the city, Emmeline was sitting on her bed, slipping on her heels and scratching Bella’s belly when she rolled on her back to ask for pats.

“It’s the first time I look forward to attending,” she mused to herself. “I just can’t wait to see mom’s face when she sees me; and when dad sees Peter! I hope their champagne goes down the wrong pipe,” she giggled, fully aware of how petty she sounded.

               Truly, they had put her through so much during her childhood, she wished them nothing but a life full of tiny, minor inconveniences that would gradually drive them both crazy, being the control freaks they were. She was done being one of the things they controlled.

               Without thinking much about it, she got up and walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, her eyes darting towards her balcony.

               Spider-Man hadn’t shown up in a while, and she was beginning to think maybe superheroes went on Christmas breaks too. A part of her wished he would just swing by so she could give him her best wishes and thank him again for what he did for her – not just saving her that night in the alley but also pushing her to talk to Peter.

               She still hadn’t mentioned her aggression, and maybe she never would, but it had done her the greatest good to open up to someone. To someone she liked a lot.

               Just then, the doorbell rang, fortunately for her – because she didn’t want to venture on this path at the moment. Emmeline would never admit to having ran to the door, but she did. It swung open to reveal a very pampered Peter Parker that she had never seen before but what glad to meet.

“My, my, if I knew you cleaned up this good, I would have told you to wear a suit after all,” she said as a way of greeting, crossing her arms and letting her eyes scan him from head to toe to take it all in.

               She had told him to drop the tux and suit and rather go for a clean, elegant shirt with jeans and dress shoes. He looked fantastic, and she didn’t spare the compliments despite the blatant pink of his cheeks and the way he avoided her eyes. Emmeline smiled larger and chuckled, gently smoothing over a wrinkle on his collar.

“Stop it,” he chuckled, stepping aside to let her through when Emmeline grabbed her coat and bag and closed the door behind them, ready to join that horrid party they would attend. “How can you say that about me when you- you look-“

               He gestured vaguely at her while mouthing a ‘wow’ but didn’t finish his sentence, having no adequate word to describe her. She had outdone herself both for him and to stick it to her parents. They couldn’t act like she was twelve and New York’s sweetheart anymore. Emmeline had grown into a fine woman and she wanted them to finally acknowledge it. She wanted more people to start looking at her and see her, instead of her parents’ daughter.

               Pastel and crème colors had been banned from her wardrobe. She wore a stunning knee-length wiggle dress whose black material caught the light and shimmered slightly. It was plain and elegant and she looked graceful and feminine and Peter’s jaw was hanging slightly open in a totally ungraceful manner until she shrugged on her coat, which made him came back to his senses.

“You’re right on time, as always,” she congratulated him. “I hope your aunt isn’t too mad at me for stealing you on Christmas Eve.” Emmeline winced a little but Peter brushed off her worries.

               Peter blinked a couple times, thinking of the way May had first been upset and argued about the sudden plans, but quickly changed her attitude when he told her it was for a girl – everyone around him seemed desperate to hitch him up.

“She’s fine with me going out,” he said with a shrug.

“You’re a terrible liar.” She laughed. “It’s a quality. Now, off we go.”

“Will you be able to walk in these shoes?” he asked, worried already when he saw the vertiginous heels.

“We’re not walking, silly.” She swatted him with her purse. “A car is waiting for us outside. Dad’s way of making sure I don’t arrive in metro and ridicule him.”

“Would you do it if given the change though?”

“Without a second thought,” she told him, beaming at him as she exited the elevator. The employees all nodded at her on their way out, and Peter felt like he was walking with a celebrity on his arm.

“Anything I should know before we go into the shark tank?” Peter asked her, eyeing suspiciously the man who held the car door open for Emmeline and gave her a sweet little smile.

“Don’t look my mother in the eye and be ready to shake a lot of hands.” She placed a hand on his thigh when they were sitting, and the door was closed. There was a tainted glass window between them and the chauffeur to guarantee privacy.  

               He felt the engine start and the car pull into traffic.

“Yeah, I think I can handle that,” he said, puffing out his chest to make her smile when he felt the tension in her hand. She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Hey, relax,” Peter tried to reassure her.

               She had been right in saying she was a good actress. Emmeline looked impeccable, confident and ready to conquer the world, but if you took so much as a second to really look at her, you could see the cracks in her façade.

               It came naturally to take her hand in his and bring it up to his lips and kiss her knuckles. She stared with wide eyes, lips slightly parted in astonishment.

“Everything will be fine. I’ll stay by your side all night.”

.

.

.

.

Reblog to save a writer

Taglist: @of-virtuoso @the-freefeather @justanothercynicalgenzkid

#peter parker #tom holland #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker series #peter parker fanfic #fanfic #marvel #marvel imagine #peter parker fanfiction #writing is hard #peter parker x oc #college au #aged up!peter parker #aged up!characters #aged up! characters #spider-man #spider-man: ffh #spider-man: far from home #spiderman #spider-man: homecoming #post canon #tony stark #tony is alive