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alrtyhoney · 8 months

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TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS

(I watch her go with a surge of that well known sadness and I have to sit down for a while– the feeling that I'm losing her forever.)

The rundown: That cake scene with Miles at his father’s bodega party but it’s with Miguel and his universe’s daughter. He’s late and it’s your quinceañera. Content: Father!Miguel O'hara x Daughter!Reader / Angst! (wc: 3844)

There was something oddly peculiar about your father. People would assume that he would be the archetypal absent one who chose to abandon his child; the dead-beat-dad who ultimately never cared for them. You’d argue it wasn’t true– you were fed, you had the weight of what a fifteen year old should have, and education was proper.

You love your papa with all of your heart, but there was no denying the fact that he would never be around often enough. You understood this when you were eight years old, and mornings would bring only a cold breakfast accompanied by a hastily scribbled note from him. He’d leave early– far too early. You tried staying up in an attempt to tell when he gets up and leaves the house, but you swear you don’t hear the door open every time.

Then came twelve and the missed events. Miguel seemed to be missing in action when it came to certain school activities, not showing up for things that he had previously made commitments for. It became more and more frequent as you grew older– you wouldn’t hear from him for days.

He was a man dedicated to his profession, and although you felt pride in what he had achieved, there was this empty space in your heart that hadn’t been filled ever since you were eight. It was said that a child needed the presence of their parents to feel security– to feel important. You never truly understood it, not until you had to endure many nights at dinner alone and the numerous times you spent walking home with nothing but your own thoughts for company.

You had always pondered over the question of whether it was a common phenomenon that fathers seemed to love their daughters less once they had reached teenagehood– or if it was possible for fathers to unlearn being fathers.

“Is your papa coming, bebita?”

The faint notes of classical music filled the air as you sat on the wooden floor, stretching your sore limbs. You observed the ladies who were much older than yourself starting their exercise routines, having come in early before the group class began. You waited for Miguel to pick you up.

– But that had been two hours ago. Your teacher finally worked up the courage to approach you, hesitantly looking for the right words to say. She wasn’t exactly pleased to be the one to let you down, but she’d seen you walk out the studio’s door alone time and time again after you told her that your father would bring you home himself.

“He said he’d come pick me up today.” You spoke, nervously twisting the ends of your skirt. Your teacher had most likely heard these words countless times before from you, but the faint ray of hope in your voice remained firm. “He promised.” You added quietly, praying that maybe it would be different this time.

“Ay, bebita– you know how this ends. You tell me those exact words and you walk out here on your own anyway.” She slightly shook her head, her face softening with a sympathetic smile as she knelt closer to you. “Tell you what, how about I offer to give you a ride home today? I have plenty of snacks in my car that you can enjoy. You can take as many of them as you'd like.”

You took some time to consider it, letting her gently weave her fingers through the strands of curls that couldn't quite fit into a bun. Your lips pursued as you sighed softly, “What if he comes and I’m not here anymore?” You’d hate to miss the opportunity.

Of course you still had faith that he would come, having endured all the other times he had let you down. You were never one to quickly give up on people and your father was the only one you trusted the most— you’d hate to admit that his inconsistency was starting to hurt; digging a deeper wound to the already bleeding cut.

“He’s not coming and I know you know that too.”

She stands up, grunting slightly as she hefts herself up. You knew there was no more room for negotiation anymore when she urged you to come along. She carefully takes your backpack from off your back and drapes it over her own shoulders, “Come on sweetheart, let's get you home.”

The silence in the car was palpable, with no one feeling the need to prod conversation. You hadn't stopped fidgeting with the hem of your bag since you got in, and you could feel your teacher's worried glances burning into you. Your mind was a jumble of emotions that kept bubbling away as they all competed for your attention. What could be his reason this time/?

She switched on the radio in an effort to lighten the tense mood, but when a melancholic tune filled played instead, you couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh.

“Is it possible for fathers to unlove their daughters?”

It was a question that took her completely by surprise, so much so that another uncomfortable beat of silence passed before she could respond. The stillness made you regret asking in the first place. Your legs shifted nervously, an unconscious habit which you had never noticed before.

“Of course not,” She muttered, almost inaudibly. “Fathers tend to forget is all.”

But you knew that wasn’t the case.

While Miguel was never home, something else resided on the corners of your house– someone you have never met at all. She smiled back at you from the frame sitting atop your dad's nightstand, wearing the similar blue soccer jersey your school had. She was the picture on his wallet and the little widget on his phone. It was beyond you– the few blue ribbons hidden on the box beneath his bed; the medals, the drawings you know you’ve never drawn or given him. For all you know, the kid didn’t even go to your school.

It wasn’t anything sinister, but in a way she felt like a ghost. A child your father mourned for all his life and you had no idea why.

This was a physical pain in your chest; one that was peeling away the very layers of your heart until it was nothing but ugly– just how could Miguel love a child more than his own? It was ridiculous to feel like you were in competition with someone you barely knew, yet somehow, you felt like you were losing. It felt even more absurd when you considered the possibility that maybe you weren't really his child at all.

“I joined our school’s soccer team today, papa.”

It wasn’t an ordinary occurrence for Miguel to be at the dining table for lunch. But on this Saturday noon, he was there. Sitting across from you, quietly eating his food. Finally, he paused and shifted his gaze towards you, seeming to linger on you longer than normal before looking away, cracking a grin.

“Soccer? You hate sports, mija.” He says, a bit of laughter in his voice. "What made you decide to try out? I don't recall you being the least bit interested before."

Something in his eyes becomes brighter, a sense of familiarity as he eagerly awaits your response– and the thing is, you couldn’t tell him why. Not without addressing the elephant in the room. Maybe you’d hang my medals too? Maybe you’d frame a photo of me? You know well your question reminds him of someone else.

“No reason.”

It was no surprise that you were terrible at it. After barely two seasons, you'd already given up. However it was surprising to see Miguel in the stands during the times that you had a game, but there wasn’t much to watch anyway— not when you’d been relegated to the bench for most of the time. All you felt was shame.

Oddly enough, he didn't question it. He remained silent during the rides back home, his gaze distant and never once looked at you. Had you embarrassed him to an extent where he couldn’t even acknowledge you? Or have you given him the impression that you were just no better than the little girl in his pictures?

You dared not to talk about it too.

Music was your passion; the pulse, the poise and elegance of it all resonating with you deeply. Ballet was something that spoke to you particularly in ways no other art form could. You found a special joy out on stage, a feeling that grew deeper and greater each time you danced.

But like every flame that you desperately try to keep alive, Miguel had a way of snuffing it out.

You remember it all so vividly, even though you'd much rather the memory be nothing more than a faint blur. Your very first recital and yet he wasn't anywhere to be found amongst the audience.

Your focus was a tunnel-vision, only set to finding even a glimpse of him— you had been so determined to find him that you forgot about all of your own movements. Soon, the few wrong turns had turned to missed cues; as soon as the music stopped, you made a run for it.

Your teacher had done her best to console you that day, attempting to coax a smile from you in front of the vanity mirror with its bright lights. She had wrapped her arms around you, doing anything she could to draw even the faintest curve of your lips. But you stayed slumped on your seat, feeling the weight of the unshed tears on your eyes.

The door swung open, finally revealing Miguel; he was out of breath and sweat glistened on his forehead. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top and his tie was undone, a clear sign that he had run all the way here. He paused for a moment to catch his breath before walking in frantically, eyes looking for you.

His eyes softened at the sight of you in your pretty pink tutu– then the tenderness was replaced with a feeling akin to plummeting one hundred stories down. How could he miss this? How could he let his sweet girl wait? He rushed to your side, sinking down into a kneeling position. He looked upon you with lines creasing his forehead and you already knew what was to come out of his lips.

“I’m sorry muneca, I came as fast as I could.”

The other parents of your classmates started to barge inside the very room, their children giddy with joy and excitement, running to them with beaming smiles. You could hear their loud congratulations– voices singing sweet praises and telling how they looked outstanding on stage. The noise sounded like static in your ears, like their words were unfamiliar to you. They received bouquets of flowers, sweets– gifts for a job well done. Miguel came late and only with apologies.

“You want pretty flowers too, mijita? We can stop by the flower shop a few blocks away from here, you can pick any bouquet you want.” His lips curved into a gentle smile, desperate to make his daughter feel better– the same daughter who wouldn't even meet his gaze. “Papa had to deal with something. I’ll be sure to go to your next recital– pinky promise.”

“But I worked really hard for this.”

You wanted so desperately to blame him; to yell at him for every mistake that you've made on the stage. You felt ashamed, humiliated, and helpless all at once- and still, you couldn’t have the heart to be mad at him.

He looked at you apologetically, "Baby, I'm sorry I couldn't make it earlier. How about we talk about the flowers you want to buy instead? There are lots of restaurants nearby as well— you can pick whatever pleases you, just name it." He paused for a moment before continuing, gently nudging your shoulder. “I know how much this meant to you.”

If he did, why couldn’t he have come at all?

You let out a deep sigh, feeling completely ridiculous in your tutu. All of the sudden, the leotard appeared to be two sizes too small and utterly irritating; your tights seemed unbearably itchy. You looked down helplessly, wanting nothing more than to leave this situation behind. “I just want to go home. Can we just leave? Please?” You pleaded softly.

He bit the inside of his cheek, a gesture that conveyed own sinking heart in a way words could not. His shoulders sagged ever so slightly, breath hitching as he gave in to your request instead.

“Of course.”

After that very moment, you'd vowed to yourself never to wait in anticipation of something that may or may not come. You wouldn’t put your faith in any more of your father's promises spoken under the dead of night. It took a toll on you– your naivety had taught you better than before.

But when your fifteenth birthday drew near, you never expected he would go so far.

The locks clicked and whirred as Miguel fumbled with the keys to the front door. You could hear your Father's voice, clearly agitated as he jostled the keys back and forth in an attempt to fit them into the lock. Finally, he steps inside, eyes immediately darting to you.

“You’re not wearing your birthday dress, sweetie. Is something wrong?” He’s wearing a smile, struggling to keep the two boxes of cake upright as he locks the door from behind. The banner is lopsided and the balloons scattered all around seem small– like they’ve been there for days and were starting to deflate themselves. He kisses the top of your head once he gets close, getting a better view of what you were working on on the counter. Homework. “Did you have your friends over today? How was it? Wanna hear all about it.”

And he must have forgotten. You decided to pretend not to hear his question, continuing to jot down notes, only humming at his presence. He settles the boxes down, sitting on the stool beside you.

“I know papa’s late, but you can still go and wear your dress. I want to take pictures– should we order pizza? Do you want something else?” He’s rambling, hurriedly searching for his tone to dial down a few numbers. Miguel turns frantic, looking at the closed signs under every nice restaurant. “Pizza should be fine, mijita– you’ve eaten dinner, right?”

“Not hungry.”

Miguel chuckled, dialing anyway. “Did school suck today, sweetie?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. “You know what can cheer you up? Cake. You love cake.”

“I don’t like cake anymore.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper. You can feel frustration boiling over inside– and you fear it wasn’t the kind you’ve grown accustomed to suppressing. He was oblivious and it was killing you, hurting you in so many ways possible. “I’m not hungry.” You repeat again.

“Don’t be like that, __. Besides, it’s still tradition.” He stands up to check the drawers, only finding worn out candles from past birthdays. He takes a lighter. “Know what’s better than a cake? Two cakes! You’ll change your mind, go and open the boxes mija,”

Miguel excitedly pressed his hands on your shoulders, pushing you gently forward to open the two boxes of cake. The look in his eyes was that of pure anticipation as he waited eagerly for you to do so. It almost hurt you to tell him the news— that you wanted more than to just take the blame itself. It was conflicting.

You finally got up from the bar stool, settling on your feet in front of the counter. Taking a deep breath, you carefully opened the lid of the boxes. What greeted you had made you visibly recoil– the small flicker of hope that settled in your chest gone as quickly as it came. The cakes were crumbled and the frosting was all over the box, like it had been trampled and tossed around.

Was this all a joke? Were you a joke to him? Your shoulders trembled as you couldn't bring yourself to look away from it; the letter was still visible but amongst the cake crumbs lay written a name– Gabriella. Not happy birthday to you, but Gabi.

You didn’t know what hurt most. Your lips quivered and all you could mutter was, “Gabi?”

His eyes widened in surprise as he quickly moved to your side to take a look at the cake himself. He swiftly closed the lids, shaking his head. “Must’ve been a mistake back at the bakery. I can–”

And you could barely catch your breath, not when the hurt piled over one another.

“Are the medals from her? The one’s from your bed? The trophies?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, clearly irritated. “What did I tell you about snooping around my things, __?”

“Is this the girl–” A ragged inhale cuts your thoughts, “on your nightstand and wallet?” You didn’t even realize you had started to cry, but when another breath had caught itself in your throat, you were inconsolable– finally letting the dam break all at once.

Miguel did nothing to console you– he didn’t know how to. He knew he had messed up royally and all he could do was helplessly watch you break down. Who knows how long you’ve kept this?

“__, come on. It’s just a simple mistake, it’s still cake–”

“And it was my birthday!”

“Baby, what’s the big deal?” He was shocked and understandably so. His sweet, babygirl, who was usually so quiet and docile, was talking back angrily to him– but Miguel knew better than to point fingers. This was his fault– your unbecoming was his own doing.

“You just had to be late– on my birthday!”

“I have work, baby, you know this.”

“That still doesn’t explain anything!” You cried out, desperation flooding your voice. “Why are you never home? Where do you go? Who is Gabriella– why do you love her more than me?” You could feel your breath catch in your throat as your voice rose and trembled with every question. Your breathing grew unsteady and your throat began to close up, not allowing anymore words to come out as much as you wanted to scream. You feared there’d be no more room for air.

And there was something about Gabriella that everytime she was brought up, Miguel would be defensive. Perhaps it was the plenty of times Lyla would reprimand him when she catches him watching the few videos of them or when Jess would pity his state. “Don’t be ridiculous, __. I made a mistake– that’s it. We don’t have to fight.” He says, grabbing a spatula. “If it bothers you so much, here,”

Miguel frustratedly spreads the lettering with the spatula, leaving smudges of red on top of perfectly white frosting, resulting in a more muddled mess. He's making a complete mess of it and you can't bear to watch any longer. Your still figure finally reaches out to grab his wrist, “Stop— stop that! What are you doing?!”

It was no use. The cake was nothing but totally ruined now. You didn’t even have the chance to read the message. He forcefully digs the candles on both, sliding it in front of you. Your eyes stayed on the cake– you didn’t have the heart to look at him. Anger boiled up within you and without a moment's hesitation, the words leaped from your mouth, "You're not listening to me! This is not what I'm so upset about—!"

But he responds in the same loudness as yours, slamming his hands down on the cold tiles of your countertop. “Okay, champ, you got it– go for it! Say what you have to say,” A sarcastic chuckle left his lips, adding insult to the already deep wound. “What do you have to tell me so bad?”

And you didn’t think it was possible for silence to be more deafening, but as you stared each other down, all you could think of was how maybe Miguel was worse than the archetypal absent one who chose to abandon his child or the dead-beat-dad who ultimately never cared for them.

You were right. Fathers were capable of unloving their daughters and the way his dark eyes burned into yours was all the answer you needed. This wasn’t your papa– did you ever know him?

“My birthday was two days ago.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, doubt creasing his forehead as he looked back to the calendar hung on the fridge. His gaze resting on your birthday date, the red circle mocking him in vivid reminder— two days ago. Your birthday was two days ago. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and he felt nothing but guilt tying his stomach in knots.

“Mijita–” He’s quick to console you, the anger in his words disappearing immediately and turning into an apologetic one– but every time he’d try to move forward, you’d only step back. Miguel couldn’t even bear to think how you’ve celebrated on your own. How you waited for him all night in your birthday dress. He subtly shook his head, trying his best not to clog his mind yet.

He needed to make it up to you. He couldn’t lose you too.

“My birthday– why did you have to take it?” You rubbed your eyes harshly, but the more you wiped the tears away, the more they seemed to fall. “It’s mine and I still had to wait for you to be able to sing the song. It’s my day and all I could think of was what time you might come home tonight.”

You wanted nothing more than for him to run to you with open arms, to let you cry on his shoulders– but as his silence stretched on, you mistook it as nothing but ruthless. He simply didn’t care. Miguel was too much of a wall for that.

The look you gave him was nothing but hate– a look no parent wants to ever come across and it almost makes him stagger back. It was like what he had done was the most disgusting– most inconsolable act ever beyond repair and all he could do was watch; watch as another daughter of his slip through his fingers. He’s holding you like water and he doesn’t know how to keep you in.

You scoffed, averting your gaze. “You don’t want to talk about it? Fine by me.” You turned your back, letting out another shaky exhale. You couldn’t look at him the same– not after this.

“You make it really, really, hard to feel like a daughter.”

And with that, you run to your room, leaving Miguel to stay rooted to where he stood. He thinks to himself– had he taken that from you too?

#alrighty honey ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara atsv #father!miguel o'hara x daughter!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #father figure miguel o'hara #atsv angst #atsv #spiderman #across the spider verse angst

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freebirdsworldburritos · 3 months

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The classism in the "music gear" scene is fucking atrocious. So many people will shit on other people for using affordable gear as a way to justify within themselves that dropping $3,000 on a guitar was a smart financial move.

About 3-4 years ago I joined a band and a month after I joined we went on some video podcast. Play a few songs, do an interview, something I've never done before but it seemed like it'd be fun.

I wasn't able to really get a word in during the interviews (stuttering/speech impediment/anxiety issues ran wild) but I was able to speak up whenever the host went around and asked us what our favorite instrument/gear brands were. Weird question, but alright buddy.

I've always been a fan of cheaper gear. You don't need all sorts of expensive shit to get the sound you want. So when he asked my answer was "Squier" and the dude just started laughing. Because who possibly would prefer one of the cheaper brands??? (Keep in mind this douche had a whole wall of the absolute worst looking collection of custom shop BC Rich guitars you've ever seen.)

Eventually he backed down once I started arguing with him about it, but his immediate elitist attitude really struck a cord in me because I see that shit all over the internet in music communities. "Oh you only like Squiers/Epiphones/Harley Bentons because you can't afford BIG BOY guitars like a $5,000 Gibson".

Fuck right off with that shit. Why would I pay thousands of dollars for a guitar when I can get something that works amazingly for me for just a few hundred dollars? The extra money I save by not dropping 4 figures on a guitar or amp goes towards paying my bills, feeding my kids, just trying to fucking live and exist.

At this point I've had to sell 99% of my music gear after over a decade of following the gear chase. I only have a "cheap" acoustic I bought several years ago for $350 and it's the best guitar I've ever had. I love my little busted neck Hummingbird to death.

I'm much happier now than I was when I had a huge assortment of pedals and guitars to choose from. The Gear Chase is designed to make you want to spend more and more money in an endless pursuit of finding that "perfect" piece of gear. Guitar companies, partnered youtubers, influencers, and all sorts of advertisement campaigns are purposefully trying to misguide you into thinking you NEED their product. It's marketing and capitalism at work and so many musicians fall for it every time. I fell for it for years before I got completely fed up with it.

Go out and gig with your Squier Bullet Strat and a cheap amp you found at a pawn shop, fuck anyone that gives you shit for it. Go ahead and record with whatever you have at your disposal. Put out an album that's comprised of Voice Memos you recorded on your phone with just an acoustic and your voice.

Music, like any art, is about way more than what you used to get there. It's how you express yourself that really matters. Don't listen to the elitists and marketers telling you the only way you can authentically reach your creative vision is by buying their snake oil.

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justporo · 8 months

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My new bestie, I honestly would love to see you write Father!Astarion 🤤🤤

How would he react to the news? Would he want a little girl or boy? How would he react when they are born, and they look just like him, but pre vamp eyes?

(Vampires can sire babies, with the highest chance after they are fully well fed)

Hello my tadpole bestie and thanks for the request! Astarion as a father really seems to be on people's minds, hm?

I get it, I like it too, but let me put this out there (yeah yeah, I know it's all fictional, but let's be real for a second): I would much rather imagine this when Astarion has done some much needed healing. This man hasn't had autonomy in two centuries and really needs to find himself again and work through trauma - with Tav on his side of course. And children are a huge responsibility - mentally, physically, emotionally, financially - I imagine (I wouldn't know, I'm not a parent...). I'd really wish for him to be ready for something like that.

But the thought is incredibly sweet, so let's go:

Headcanons about Astarion being a father

When Tav tells him she's expecting, he's truly speechless for perhaps the first time in his life; and then he can't sit still: swinging from delusionally happy to overthinking and being worried; but Tav takes his hand and reassures him that they'll be in it together

Has he thought about having kids? Yeah sure, but he'd never thought of it being possible until it happened, although when Cazador forced him and the other spawn to behave like a family he'd sometimes thought about what could've been

He's absolutely overprotective when Tav's pregnant: "Oh no, no, darling, you are not carrying that around, think of the baby!" "Astarion, it's A MUG OF WATER!"

Also he adores her body that is creating such a miracle: "You're glowing, my heart. You are truly a goddess!"

If he was handsy before there are now no moments where his hands aren't on Tav's body and on her belly

When he feels the first movements, he cries, and then Tav cries and then there's just a fountain of happy tears and lots of "I love you"s

He's taking such good care of Tav; especially when she doesn't feel well or when she's exhausted - she'll get all the herbal teas and massages

Birth though is scary - for both of them; but I'm sure he'll have some friends by his side (because think about the adventure troupe waiting with him while he's pacing the room like a panther: Karlach's biting her nails off, Gale's just blabbering to distract himself, Shadowheart is praying for everything to go well, Wyll tries to calm Astarion down (unsuccessfully), Lae'zel is unusually silent with crossed arms hoping everything will be okay, Halsin's keeping the group fed and all because "Nature will make it all right")

Boy or girl? Doesn't matter at all, all that's important is that Tav and the baby are healthy and ready to receive all his love

First time holding his child - he can't even cry because it's such a miracle; "This... this is the best thing I've ever had and created!"

The tears come later when you're alone - just the three of you

He's absolutely a very loving father, caring so much about his kid - and also equally taking on responsibilities and care with Tav

When the kid's eyes become their real colour and it sparks a memory Astarion had long forgotten, he's too stunned to acknowledge what he's seeing: the kid has his eyes - the way they were before he was turned

Later, when the child's already a little bigger he loves to show them stuff, teach them, read to them; also inciting them to go and annoy Mom - which makes Tav want to push him off a cliff but also hug him to death - because who'd have thought it would ever be possible?

Alright alright - I've gotten almost off the rails with this one. Because honestly, there's a lot to imagine there. Also maybe I wasn't prepared for the things that would make me feel (and I don't mean baby fever).

Alright, hope you enjoyed this headcanons, time for me to go to bed!

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #daddystarion #poro headcanons

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cheapshrimpysheep · 8 months

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A Break Under The Lights

SUMMARY: You suggest taking turns for some to rest while others peel potatoes on the boat. You can choose who will pair up with you outside to enjoy the boat lights under the night sky.

CHARACTERS: Port Fest Steering Committee (Floyd, Ruggie, Rook & Jack)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kissing

WARNING: Spoilers from the Port Fest Event; Vignettes from Floyd's Port Wear and Rook's Port Wear

WORD COUNT: An average of 600 words per character.

COMMENTS: I wanted to write something for this event, but I couldn't remember anything. Until I finished the story and saw what they said about the lights on the boat. That was asking to write something romantic about it. I didn't get Jack's card, so I don't know his vignette story. 😔 But I'm pretty happy with what I wrote. 😊

My logic for the order of the characters was: R > SR > SR > SSR

I hope you enjoy 😉

CONTEXT: You were all peeling potatoes in the hold of the boat while talking about the festival. Remembering what they say about the exterior: It’s gotten real quiet since all the guests have gone home at the end of Port Fest.

Ruggie: “The neon lights on the Golden Straw sure are pretty.”

Rook: “Oui, more dazzling then even the stars twinkling in the night sky. I believe they only turn them on for Port Fest.”

Floyd: “So today’s the last day they’ll be on, then.”

Jack: “Yeah. This’ll be our last chance to check them out until next year’s festival.”

And that's why you remembered to suggest that you take turns to rest and enjoy those lights outside. You suggest pairing up and while one pair is outside the other two continue peeling potatoes. And then you take turns. Everyone wants to be paired with you, so they let you choose who you want to be paired with.

“Looks like Koebi-chan is getting slier.” Floyd tells you with that cunning smile of his on his face. You say you don't know what he's talking about, in a tone that shows you're lying. What makes him laugh.

“The break thing was a good idea, thou. I was getting tired of those stupid potatoes.” He walks to the bow of the boat and rests his elbows on the railing as he looks out over the sea below you two.

“I heard you won a music contest.” you tell him, approaching the railing as well. “Congrats”.

“He he. Thanks~ But it was too easy. They were all amateurs.”

“You mean it was a contest for amateurs? And you didn't tell anyone you were already experienced?”

“Nobody asked. Aha ha ha ha.” The disapproving look on your face just makes him laugh harder. When his laughter calms down he adds: “Winning the contest was cool and people applauding me too. But I got pretty fed up with that shoal that wouldn't let go of me.”

“A shoal? Are you talking about literal fish or people?”

“I wish it had been fish. So I could just have eaten them. But no. I'm talking about the people who seen me play the saxophone and have been asking me to keep playing for them.” then he looks at you with that creepy smile “You wouldn't be that annoying, right Koebi-chan~?”

“Awww. I was going to ask you to play something for me. I didn't hear you play in the contest.”

“You saw me play at that concert in the end of Port Fest.” He reminds you. You try to look sad and pout at him. But it doesn't seem to work and he seemingly changes the subject. “What about you? You may not have won first, but I heard that your photo won a good place in a photography contest.”

“Hum? Ah yes. Rook was the one who won first place.”

“And he was the one on your photo, wasn't he?” there was that creepy smile again “It really was a good photo. It deserved the place.”

He gets closer to you. You take a step back and your back ends up meeting the railing of the boat. He grabs the railing, each hand blocking your way out. Looking up you could see his face and the neon lights of the boat above the two of you.

“You took pictures of me too, right?” he was smiling, a little creepily, but he wasn't showing his teeth.

“Of course I took. But I didn't get as good an angle of you as I did of Rook, unfortunately.”

“You have the camera with you, don't you?” He asks. You had. You always carried it with you like a shoulder bag. Floyd lets go of the railing. “So you can take some more now.” His good mood returned in a flash. Mood swinging as always.

You seize this opportunity. A photo of him illuminated by those neon lights at night is sure to be beautiful. You take some pictures of him, until he asks if he can try taking some pictures too. You allow it and hand the camera over to him.

He starts randomly taking pictures, until he stands behind you, with the camera in front of you to take a selfie of you bouth. His chin resting affectionately on your shoulder. He takes a photo. Then kisses your cheek. Takes another photo. And if you turn your head to let him kiss your lips, he'll take one last photo.

Ruggie stretches, his arms up high. “AHHH Freedom... For a limited period of time.” he drops his arms. “Good idea. I really needed a break.”

There are no deckchairs or anything to sit or lie on, so Ruggie just lies down in the middle of the deck with his hands behind his head. “*Sigh* I'm exhausted.” he looks at you standing next to him. “There is enough deck for two if you want to rest too. Didn't you walk around taking pictures? Besides, the neon lights are really pretty seen from here.”

You decide to accept Ruggie's offer and lie down next to him. He was right. Those neon lights with the night sky behind it was really a beautiful sight.

“I heard a photo of yours won a place in that photography contest. Congrats.” he smiles at you. “Did you gain anything else from it?”

“Nah. Just that honourable mention I guess.”

“Not even a free snack? Man, what a prize... You know, if the picture had been of me, maybe I'd have considered giving you a waffle with whatever topping you wanted, for free.”

“Really? Oh, wait. The key word here is considered, isn’t it?”

“Shye hee hee. You're getting to know me too well.”

He's messing with you, so you decide to mess with him too.

“Well, maybe that's why I took that picture of Rook and not of you.”

“Oh yeah?” he sulks a little and his ears tip back. “What did he offer you in return? A bunch of praise?” he looks at you with a mocking expression.

“Better that than a possibility of waffle that in the end I might not even get to have.”

“Fine. I would definitely give you a plain waffle. Better?”

“For free?”

“Yah, for free. Too bad you didn't take a picture of me.”

“Actually, I took some pictures of you too. They just weren't the ones to win the contest.”

“Hmm? Really? Shye hee hee... I can see them?”

You always carried it with you like a shoulder bag. You take it and show the pictures to him. The best one was one you took from him while he was "playing" the broom. He smiles when he sees it. Then he has an idea.

He sits up, while you're still lying down, then turns to you and takes a picture of you. You ask what he's doing as he looks at the picture he just took.

“You have a lot of good pictures of me. It's only fair that I have at least one good picture of you in return. Send me this later will ya? Shye hee hee.”

“Do I still get the free waffle if I send you the pictures?”

“Hey, that was if the photo won something in the contest.” he reminds you. You pout for a second, but accept it. “*Sign* You really are such a goody-goody sometimes.” He leans over and kisses your cheek. “There. How's that for a prize? And for the photos.”

If you say it's not enough, he'll answer with a smirk: “Looks like I'm not the only greedy one here. But that's a higher price. You'll have to let me take more pictures of you in return.”

You agree and he lies down again beside you on deck to kiss your lips.

“Ah, it's so good to be able to enjoy these dazzling neon lights.” Rook inhales as if the scent of the sea is a breath of fresh air. “Merci, Trickster! Et merci for choosing me as your partenaire dans le crime.” he looks at you with his sly smile.

“Crime? What do you mean? Now it's a crime to want a little break to appreciate these lights?” You say, pretending badly that you feel offended. “You yourself said that they only turn them on for Port Fest. We must seize this moment.”

He laughs. “I certainly agree with you.”

You start walking towards the railing at the bow of the boat, leaving Rook behind you. You stop and look back when you hear the sound of a photo being taken. You see Rook holding his digital camera pointed at you and with a smile on his face.

“What are you doing?” you ask

“Exactly what it looks like.” he answers casually “I'm taking pictures of you.”

“Well, yes, I can see that, but what for?”

“Mainly for myself, but if you want me to send them to you it will be my pleasure.” You get flattered and he takes another picture of you. “Beauté~” he whispers to himself before turning back to speak to you. “Unfortunately, I didn't have many opportunities to take pictures of you during the festival. My attention was already quite divided between the food stand and photo ideas for the contest. Although I know that any photo with you as the subject would be beautiful.”

You never know what to say when he starts to praise you like that. He starts walking towards you.

“These lights, this place, this moment are beautiful. And ephemeral. So could I ask you for something très spécial, my dear Trickster?” While one hand holds the camera, the other takes your hand and he leans slightly in a bow to you. “Would you be so kind to model for me on this deck? I'm sure all the photos will be magnifique.”

You take your time to answer, but you end up agreeing. And when you do he kisses the back of your hand. “Merci beaucoup mon cher!”

He asks you to act casually, to lean against the railing as if enjoying the view of the sea, to sit on top of a barrel or even on the deck, to stretch your arms as if you want to reach the neon lights. And every time he comments on how beautiful the photo and you are.

Later, towards the end of the photo session, he takes the hat off his head and puts it on yours. “I had an idea.” And then you see him take off his coat, leaving him in just that tight shirt with the blue and white stripes. He puts his coat on your shoulders like a cape. And keeps taking pictures of you.

“I fear our time is running out.” he says sadly after taking several pictures of you in his hat and coat. “Merci encore, Trickster. Each photo is more beautiful than the last. You were so very kind to let me take pictures of you. I wonder...” he gets closer to you and places his index and thumb on your chin, with that smirk on his face. “what kind of thanks you would most like to get from me.”

If you let him, he will kiss your lips. You will feel the smile on his lips and the adoration he has for you. And you will hear one last sound of a photograph being taken by your side.

“Hey, um, I'm sorry I got you into this mess too.” Jack tells you, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It's okay.” you tell him “Well, I'm not a big fan of peeling potatoes, but at least it allowed me to be here with you.” you smile at him, and he gets flattered. “This neon lights are really pretty. And you said this will be our last chance to check them out until next year’s festival, right?”

“Yeah, we should make the most of them. I'll just go get us some drinks. You must be thirsty too.” He leaves you on deck for a minute and when he comes back he hands you your favourite fresh juice.

You thank him and show him how very happy you are that he knows your favourite flavour of juice. He gets flattered again while saying it's nothing. You two go to the bow rail. You can see how the neon lights reflect in the sea water.

“I heard you won a spot in the photo contest. I'm no photography expert, but I thought the photo was pretty good. Congrats.” He smiles at you, that big smile like he's proud of you.

“Thank you. And you were amazing on the show.” you see him rub the back of his neck as he thanks you. “I also took some pictures of you, you know?”

“Y-you did?!”

You finish your drink and grab your camera to show Jack the pictures. He is so flattered he could blush. And then you show him one you took from him without his coat "playing" the dustbin. You took the photo from the top, and he was smiling so happily that you tell him it's your favourite picture. You leave him speechless of how flattered you make him. And then you look at the boat with those neon lights at night.

“Hey, can I take some more here?” you ask him. “The deck is so pretty with these lights.”

“You want more pictures of me?! Hmm... I... guess that's okay.” His tail is wagging like crazy.

After taking so many photos of the boys, you've already started to realize that the best photos, especially in the case of people like Jack, are the ones where they are more relaxed, not focusing on the camera. So you chat with him and making him more comfortable, only taking pictures here and there.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” He asks you, more comfortable around the camera. “Could we take a picture together? I would like to have something to remind me of this moment.” he says this slightly embarrassed.

You agree and even say it's a great idea. You would love to have a photo with him from that moment too. You decide to put the camera down to take a self-timer photo. But then you think that maybe it's a good idea to let the camera take several pictures, remembering that the best ones are the ones you forget about the camera. And you tell Jack that.

For the first photo you have one arm around each other. Then Jack remembers to take his hat off and put it on your head. He laughs at how cute you look in such a big hat. After that he ends up doing the same with the coat when he sees that you seem to be getting a little cold. It's also way too big on you which just makes you look even cuter in his eyes. His tail goes back to wagging wildly.

You can't take anymore how sweet he is being with you. And you make a gesture for him to bend down as if you were going to whisper something in his ear. But instead, you surprise him with a kiss on the cheek. And he feels entitled to do the same to you.

And if you keep teasing him like this, he'll pick you up so your faces are level and allow you to kiss his lips.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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halfagone · 8 months

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The Power of DPxDC

There has been a lot of anti-DPxDC sentiment going around lately; if you haven't heard about it, then don't worry about it. This isn't a post about the negativity, this is a post celebrating how much we've done as a crossover fandom!

Just as a bit of perspective, I've been reading fics from DPxDC since 2020. Now that might not seem like a long time ago, but back then we didn't even have 100 fics for the crossover as a whole, and look at us now! This is a screenshot from Ao3 just today:

Incredible, isn't it? Look how much we've grown and contributed and shared! And that's not even mentioning all the wonderful Tumblr prompts and posts and incredible fanart. DPxDC has us in a chokehold and it isn't about to let go any time soon.

I know it can be a little disheartening to see all the people trying to drag us down. I know I've been left disappointed in some cases, but I also know that my love for the crossover hasn't abated at all, and I hope it stays that way with you all too!

There is so much engagement in this crossover, I cannot tell you enough how much you all have spoiled me with comments and kudos and fanart. A lot of my fandom friends like to tease me for writing so much, but I don't think I could have written half of those fics had it not been for people like you loving them as much as you do.

Passion is the lifeblood of this fandom, of every fandom! And I don't see that going away any time soon for DPxDC.

I know I want to comment and kudos more. I read a lot of fics, but I don't sign in often so that you can see me leaving that kudos, and it's been more and more apparent to me how many people don't realize how much I adore their writing. I'm hoping to fix that!

Some might say that we don't tag our work appropriately, and while that might be true in some cases, I cannot stress enough just how good of a job we're doing. @tourettesdog made a wonderful post not too long ago about tagging, and we do clean work! Not even a full 3% of all the tags they'd seen included a "main" tag, which has been the frustration for most. 3%? That's incredible!

You all deserve some appreciation for the hard work y'all do, and this is it! I hope you all know how well you've fed creators, readers, and fans like me! Don't let up, because we do amazing work. And that deserves to be celebrated.

#dpxdc #i'm gonna be real with you all #dpxdc got me through a TOUGH fandom break #had it not been for this crossover #i might have quit writing altogether #but you're the reason i kept going #and i can't stress enough how much #that means to me now #so thank you too

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mysticheathenn · 4 months

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What is Your Soul Here to Learn?

Hi there! Remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

The extended reading includes:

What is your soul here to learn?

What lessons and people are here to help you?

(This extended reading is available for free!)

Pile l:

What was your past life like? (Cards: 3 of Wands, The High Priestess (reversed), The Hermit, Knight of Swords)

This may be my spiritual pile (don't have to be but I feel you're either spiritual or religious). In your past life, you may have been a monk. Living your life in solitude but you were celebrated and loved by a large group of people giving your guidance and knowledge to any and everyone who needed it. This energy may have transferred over in your current life but instead of being a monk, you are the friend that everyone goes to for advice or when they need comforting. In your past life, you helped those who needed help with grounding themselves and help with healing. I'm seeing a lot of broken people with deep traumas came to you not just for your guidance but for loving energy.

What were your past life's faults? (Cards: 6 of Wands, 4 of Cups (reversed), Page of Swords, & King of Swords)

You're past life faults were you allowed other people to get in your head which caused your downfall. Some of you may have experienced greed while others of you allowed haters and others that wanted to see you fall get in your head. There isn't much to go on with this question as there seems to be a wall as if your past life is ashamed for the way they have lived and allowed others influences lead the way you lived life. It's as if you had trouble standing up for yourself because you feared judgment of others and didn't want gossip to paint you in a negative light. For others, you let your popularity get to your head and while you did good things you did more harm than good. (Extended reading on my Patreon - Available for free)

Pile ll:

What was your past life like? (Cards: 6 of Pentacles (reversed), The Empress (reversed), The Hierophant, 10 of Swords (reversed)

Pile 2 in a past life you let other people dictate your life telling you what you should do and who you should be in life. You were the type of person who did everything by the book, it gives me the vibes of what used to be the American Dream where if you worked hard, went to school, and stayed out of trouble you were on your way to having a good, long, and successful life but instead it led you into depression because it wasn’t what you truly wanted to do. It gives me “Don’t Worry Darling Movie Vibes.” Maybe you were fed dreams that didn’t pan out to be exactly what you hoped for and anytime you spoke out about it people would gaslight you telling you things would get better or even go as far as chastize you for wanting to do things differently than how they were always done.

What were your past life's faults? & What is your soul here to learn? (Cards: 3 of Cups, The World (reversed), Page of Swords, & The Tower)

I’m getting a sense that your past life’s faults is the same thing your soul is here to learn. You tend to let other people dictate what is good for you instead of making these decisions yourself. Maybe you are born into a family with strict expectations where everyone is a doctor, and you have to be a doctor too or maybe your family continues to carry old expectations of how the world used to work and they pass them down to you. An example would be maybe your mom was a stay-at-home mom or something and keeps nagging you that your “biological clock” is running out and you need to shackle down with just about anyone who won't abuse you to give them grandbabies and populate the earth. I’m sensing in a past life and even now you have tried to break away from the mold but each time you do you are met with manipulation tactic after manipulation tactic like maybe your family and friends saying they will disown you if you don’t follow what they feel is best for you. You want to appease your family and friends but you also want to stand true to who you are as a person and you’re finding that very hard to do because of the many fear tactics you were fed and also you're not believing in yourself that you will land safely on your own two feet but will crash and burn making you feel that maybe your family and friends were right and you should listen to them.

(Extended reading on my Patreon - Available for free)

Pile lll:

What was your past life like? (Cards: 9 of Wands, The Moon, Queen of Cups, The Hermit, 8 of Swords.

I’m getting in your past life you grew up in a household where you were taught to be seen and not heard. This may have crossed over into your current realities as with the 9 of wands you felt a lot of burdens that didn’t belong to you. Maybe you had parents who didn’t get along but would go to you to vent about each other, or maybe you, unfortunately, fell into the trap of being an older sibling having to take care of your younger siblings and you didn’t feel heard because every time you would speak out about how you would feel you were shut down which caused you to go into hermit mode and just move through life as a robot and not actually live your life how you should have. For a moderate amount of you, I feel this has crossed over into your current reality. This may have even emotionally stunted you to where you don’t know how to process your emotions maturely. Maybe some of you currently or even in your past life would lash out at any and every one anytime anything would happen even if you didn’t mean to and you would feel horrible about it because you don’t mean to cause anyone harm or make them feel some type of way.

What were your past life's faults? (Cards: The Devil, Knight of Wands (reversed), Page of Cups, & 3 of Swords)

Your faults in your past life were because you didn’t know how to emotionally process your feelings and felt the heavy burden of others on your shoulders you resulted into drinking, drugs, and maybe even sex to feel something other than the pain you felt daily from not having a safe space to go to amongst family or friends. Again some of you this may have crossed over into your current reality where you feel alone and don’t have anyone you can talk to about the many struggles in your life that are going on and the only thing you do to help ease the pain is by taking on vices whether its drugs, sex, alcohol, maybe even spending a lot of money on things you know you don’t need but temporarily gives you joy. Some of you if this has crossed over into your current reality you aren’t sure how to pick yourself up and try to do better in your current reality which blends into a little bit of what your soul is here to learn.

(Extended reading on my Patreon - Available for free)

Pile lV:

What was your past life like? (Cards: 9 of Wands, The Moon, Queen of Cups, The Hermit, 8 of Swords

Similar to piles 2 and 3 your past life may be reoccurring in your current reality. In your past life, you had a hard time letting go of people and things that were no good for you. In your current reality you could be the one friend who goes to your friends for advice on your sh!itty relationship just for you to do the complete opposite of what you were advised to do because you believe things will get better and you have so much history with a person or even a job for some of you. You have a strong sense of loyalty to anything you see potential in that could be great for you in the future. This pile gives me “I can fix him” vibes even though the situation, person, or job could be draining for you, you still refuse to let go.

What were your past life's faults? (Cards: The Devil, Knight of Wands (reversed), Page of Cups, & 3 of Swords)

You’re faults in your past life just like the first question could bleed into your current reality as well because you believe people can change and time and time again you have been hurt and led astray believing this kind of thinking only to get back up again and try a different plan to make something that has been dead come alive again. I’m getting the TikTok trend “Staying delulu is the solulu.” Some of you stay in a delusional universe when it comes to situations or people that drain you. No matter how many people tell you that you need to leave a job or person you keep telling yourself it’s going to get better. I just have to do a little more of this or a little more of that not seeing that you are watering dead soil. I’m seeing the clip of Viola Davis and Denzel Washington in the movie Fences where she goes off on her husband saying “It didn’t take her 18 years to know she was watering rock-hard dead soil but she stayed and kept fighting and pushing and showing up because she’s loyal and sometimes still has a little bit of hope.”

(Extended reading on my Patreon - Available for free)

Thank you to everyone who likes and reblogs my post. Always truly appreciative of all of you. Remember to check out the extended reading on Patreon for FREE!

I hope you guys enjoyed this one. Until next time, stay safe and be blessed.

#spirituality #pac reading #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #pac tarot #tarot reading #tarot community #divination #witchblr #pagan witch

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jenoslutie · 10 months

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i saw your requests were open and im really craving jeno filth rn. can i request a blurb of mean/angry jeno wanting to try anal spur of the moment while fucking but theres poor prep. can there be focus on degrading, humiliation, & dacryphilia? i saw on your requests that you write some hard kinks so hopefully this works (if not, ignore me). thank you!

pairing: jeno x fem!reader

genre: smut

wc: 1501

warnings: degradation, humiliation, dacryphilia, anal (with little to no prep), mentions of haechan, angry jeno.

a/n: thank u anon!! im so sorry im replying so late i've been suffering with severe lack of motivation but thank u to @jenomov for motivating me to write this luv u bb!!

Ever since you and Jeno got home earlier, hes been upset and he won't tell you why. All you remember was being at a little get together with him and his friends and midway during the night he took you by the hand and told you that you guys would be leaving. The whole car ride was silent and you honestly don't have a clue what could be wrong with him. You'd assume one of his friends may have said something that pissed him off but if that did happen he would've mentioned it to you. All your attempts of trying to ask him have been pushed away with him either ignoring you or simply telling you to not worry about it.

"Jeno?" You walked into your shared bedroom after washing up where he was at his desk playing video games, already having changed into a pair of grey shorts and a white t-shirt. "Can you talk to me? what's wrong?" and much like the other times, he ignored you once again. Being fed up with his silent treatment, you went up to where he sat at his desk and took his headphones off his head, placing them on his desk and turning the chair around so he'd finally look at you for the first time since you'd gotten home today.

"Jeno, talk to me please, what's wrong? I don't know what I did and it's making me feel like shit knowing that I upset you and I don't even know what I did" Jeno groans, not amused that you reminded him of it again. "You know what, fine I'll fill you in." He sat you down on the floor in front of him and his voice was awfully calm which was a stark contrast to his demeanour from less than a minute ago. He tucks your hair behind your ear and ran his hands through your hair before grabbing a fistful and pulling it roughly, making you wince.

"I was looking for you the whole time today but where did I end up finding you? Sitting outside with Haechan. You know how he feels about you yet you still entertained it like some attention whore." He sneered as he says this and tugs on your hair harder.

Now you remember.

Jeno seemed to be occupied with his friends so you and Haechan decided to go and get some drinks from the kitchen before sitting outside and people watching. There was barely any dialogue exchanged other than some random comments the both of you made when you saw someone doing something funny.

So you tell Jeno that.

"You know, if you really want to slut yourself out to Haechan while your boyfriend is busy with his friends then go ahead. But for now, come on, strip" Jeno was seeing red at this point. He was already upset that you ditched him and when he finally did find you, he found you hidden away with his friend who's had feelings for you since time. What added on to his anger was you were wearing this skin tight black romper with no bra underneath so everyone could clearly see every curve of your body and your very hard nipples.

He watched you as you got rid of that stupid romper that made you look even sexier than you already were. "come on, take off those panties too, sluts like you don't need those. I'm surprised you even wore any in the first place." you complied with a slight frown, the situation was so arousing to you right now but you couldn't show him just how much it was affecting you. Jeno hummed as your naked body stood before him, his fingers finding their way to your nipples to toy with them before bringing his mouth to one and flicking his tongue over it making you moan softly. However that didn't last long until Jeno got off his chair and sat you on it instead. You brought your hand down to your sopping wet cunt and realized your wetness was dripping down onto his chair. You knew Jeno wouldn't be happy about it considering his mood right now so you chose not to even mention anything about it until he'd notice himself. Which clearly didn't last long because when Jeno looked down to where your hand was, he saw the mess that was made on his new gaming chair.

"What the fuck is this hmm?" Jeno raised his eyebrows at you making you close your legs and look down in shame. "You know, I was thinking of letting you off easy but I don't think you deserve it today. Get on your knees and clean up your mess." You whimpered at his degradation. As harsh as his words may get, you know he doesn't mean it at the end of the day. So you obeyed his command and fell to your knees and lapped up your arousal from his chair, leaving an arguably bigger mess but you know Jeno never really minded in the first place.

"Good girl. Get on the bed baby" You followed all his commands with no hesitation. Making your way over to the bed with him trailing behind you. He sat you on the bed before getting rid of his shorts and shirt. Immediately, you knew what that meant so you got right to work, licking at his tip before taking his length in your mouth. Sucking him off like you know he likes. Making a mix of his groans and the sound of you gagging from his length hitting the back of your throat fill the room.

He pulled you off him before he was able to reach the edge. "Get on your hands and knees." And you obeyed, arching your back the way he likes it. What you didnt expect was to feel his cock circling your rim. it's not your first time doing this with him but there was barely any prep or foreplay to prepare you for this. "Jeno? I dont think I'm prepped enough for anal right now..." you trailed off to which he slapped your ass in response. "You can take it I know you can, It'll feel good I promise" Dropping down a glob of spit to 'lubricate' your hole before he slid in just his tip around your hole, hips stuttering from the feeling of your hole squeezing him in. The pain was too much making your eyes well up "Jeno fuck..it hurts so much" And as if to make it better, he dropped another glob of spit on your hole to make the stretch more bearable (it didnt help much). When he finally bottomed out in your ass he let out a loud groan which you could almost feel from the way his cock twitched inside you. Your cheeks were stained with tears as you fought the urge to beg him to at least use some lube but the thought quickly went to the back of your head when he started pounding into your ass while rubbing at your clit.

"Jeno fuck" you sniffled and you didnt expect Jeno to fucking whimper at your tone. "Fuck baby are you crying?" He chuckled softly, flipping you onto your back to observe your messy tear stained face.

"You're so fucking pretty when you cry baby it makes me wanna ruin you more often. You like when I fuck you hard like this?" You nod and soon the pain is mixed with pleasure when he rubs at your clit harder and your arousal trails down to where his cock is pounding into you.

"Gonna cum Jeno feels so good" Jeno knew you were close from the way you tightened up around him and your legs shook around his waist. "Cum baby. show me that pretty teary face when you cum." And you did. Your orgasm hit you so hard that you sob even harder, your face a mix of tears and drool that made Jeno's high to follow right behind yours. He buried his cock all the way inside you and you feel the hot white ropes of cum filling you up.

Jeno slowly pulled out and collapsed next to you, wiping the tears off your face. "You're so good to me baby sorry if I was too rough today." You shook your head with a smile, not trusting your voice to do you any justice in the moment. Jeno returned the smile and gave you a soft kiss to your forehead.

"And just so you know, I'm not mad about the Haechan thing anymore. It was a stupid thing to get mad about I'm sorry" You smiled at the man before you. Jeno less than 10 minutes ago was nothing compared to the Jeno you were seeing right now.

"It's okay, I love you and only you okay?" He hummed with a smile, giving you another kiss to your forehead before he went off to get something to clean you up with.

#jeno smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #mark lee smut #jaemin smut #haechan smut #renjun smut

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jarofstyles · 4 months

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Azure- Indigo 5

Helllooo my loves! Here is part 5 to indigo. It's really cute I can't lie, I'm proud of this story :')

Check out our Patreon for 100+ exclusive writings and early access to the next 3 parts of Indigo.

Series Masterlist

WC- 5.4k

-------------

Y/N had forgotten how Harry appeared to other people.

She had been almost floating on air the rest of the weekend, a smile permanently on her face as she walked about her apartment, tending to chores and making sure to take time to look after her tattoo. She had been diligent about her research beforehand, yes, but it was even more imperative now that she kept the piece in pristine condition.

They’d been texting frequently. Once she had gotten home, he had responded back and it simply hadn’t stopped. There were pauses, warnings from him that he had a client coming in or he was going on a run, but most of the weekend had been spent texting him, giggling at her phone, getting to know him a bit more. His texting style was a bit similar to how he spoke, a bit of dry humor sprinkled in. It seemed he was a little more bold through the phone as well, messaging her with smooth flirtation and obvious interest in her stories. He asked involved questions, checked in on her multiple times, but he wasn’t overly bearing. Y/N felt like she was being hand fed bits and pieces of the man that had always puzzled her.

“So who’s the guy that had you pretending you’re not smiling at your phone?” Over brunch, Y/N’s friend Julia had caught on to her sneaking peeks at her phone, smiling to herself and trying to pace responses. It wouldn’t be hard for anyone to notice this. Y/N couldn’t be subtle if it could save her life. Once you got to know her, it was even more obvious that her feelings would be displayed out for anyone to see. A real heart on her sleeve type of girl.

Y/N hadn’t wanted to bring him up initially, but the excitement to finally dish about a guy she was actually excited about seeing- even if it was only one planned date- had her mouth almost ready to burst. She didn’t want to tell anyone in their initial friend group because… because what if it didn’t work and then everyone made it super awkward? Y/N did not do good with that sort of pressure and honestly, she would most definitely cry if someone teased her for not being able to keep up with Harry.

Julia, however? Sweet Julia was a former coworker, mostly removed from that group of friends and it was easier to dish when she hadn’t met him.

“Well…” Y/N tucked her hair back over her shoulder, fiddling with her napkin. “It’s a guy I’ve known for a bit. He’s actually the one who did my tattoo.” Lifting her arm she motioned to the ink that her friend had previously fawned over. She had a few tattoos herself and had been impressed at how good it had turned out despite some of the detail being scabbed over. Y/N had taken a bit of the moisturizer Harry had given her out after their drinks and shown her, the whole thing.

“Ohmygod- a tattoo artist?” Her friend’s eyes widened. “The one who did that one? You sly thing… did you get down and dirty in the studio? Oh my god, you gave it so good he had to see more of you? Y/N, you’ve been holding out on me!”

Y/N gaped, floundering for a moment before housing her friends with wide eyes. Her voice hadn’t exactly been quiet and she could feel the lava burning underneath her skin. She loved Julia, but she didn’t have a sense of volume sometimes. “Jules!” She hissed, shaking her head. “No! I didn’t- I didn’t do anything in the studio. No, he was completely and utterly professional and sweet.” There was a weird need to defend Harry’s honor.

In reality, there was no true idea in her mind if Harry did that sort of stuff before. With how attractive he was, she was sure people attempted it but she doubted he would actually do so. Not when he had worked so hard on his shop’s reputation. He’d told her all about that when they’d gone out afterwards.

“Ok, then what the hell happened? What is his name? Let me see him, immediately.” Her expectant hand shot out, looking at her with a raised brow as Y/N chuckled at her friends' antics- and her audacity. She was lucky Y/N loved her.

“His name is Harry.” Her voice was soft as she typed his username into the instagram search bar. “He’s a tattoo artist. I met him through our friend group. He’s a friend of Sarah’s. He did my tattoo at his own shop. He owns it himself, and he’s got a few people who work there too.” Pride bled from her voice as she pulled his profile up and handed it over. There weren't too many of him. He had a few tagged, a few photos on his own, but it was mostly his tattoo work and random things here and there. “He’s got a few awards and done a few famous people’s work. It’s so cool. He drew my tattoo up right next to me in his office, his process is so interesting.”

The girl was chirping about him as if she was already smitten, a dreamy little smile on her lips slipping a bit as she took in Julia’s expression. “What?”

“Nothing! Nothing- not a bad look, I promise.” Julia hurried to correct her face but she turned the phone back to Y/N. “This is him? The one in the black?”

It was a photo of him she had seen the other night while she did her obligatory snooping in his tagged. A tight black tee shirt with the Harley Davidson logo on the chest covered his torso and tight fitting black jeans covered his bottom down to his brown boots. His arms bulged slightly as they were crossed over his body, a pint in hand as he looked at the camera. The other hand held out a middle finger over his arm, a cold scowl on his face. His piercings glimmered in the photo, an obvious flash used. It was part of Sarah’s summer photo dump, one he had commented a simple eye roll emoji for despite liking it. Y/N’s snooping was thorough.

“Yeah… Isn’t he cute?” Y/N asked nervously. It wasn’t that she needed her friend’s acceptance. She liked Harry either way. It would just be nice to not feel a bit off guard when she had expected a squeal back from seeing him. Harry was hot, that was no question. Even if you simply spoke to him without seeing his physical appearance, it was more than obvious he was just an attractive man in general.

“Cute isn’t the word I’d use. He’s good looking but… He’s a little scary for you, isn’t he?”

While she knew that the question was most likely an innocent one, it raised her hackles a little bit. Sure, maybe he looked a little scary. Maybe he was intimidating to most. But that didn’t have much to do with anything. “No, I don’t think so. He’s incredibly sweet and kind. He didn’t even charge me for my tattoo and tried to venmo me back his tip but he’s… He’s a little shy.” It had been apparent to her when he had told her why he had been so silent around her. “He tells awful jokes and he’s taking me to a drive-in movie this weekend because he remembered that I liked the one they’re showing. He’s really thoughtful. I know he’s got tattoos and piercings but that doesn’t mean-”

“Woah, slow your roll, Cinnamon Bun.” Julia placed her hand over Y/N’s. “I didn’t mean anything mean by it. Not at all. I’m sure that if you’re with him, he’s a nice guy.” Her face showed guilt for working Y/N up, scooting her chair closer to her. “I just mean he seems a bit intimidating. You know that I’m used to seeing you fawn over more sporty guys, the cleaner cut ones. It was just that he’s different from the norm for you, babe.”

Y/N’s wind sank and her sails dropped as she realized what her friend had meant. Of course it hadn’t been meant in malice, but she still worried. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to jump on you like that. I just think.. I think he’s had a lot of people assume a lot of things about him in the past and it makes me weirdly protective of him. I know I’m kind of his opposite in a lot of ways and it makes me a little insecure because I know people will definitely call it out. Your meaning isn’t bad but eventually people are going to see I don’t seem to be the normal type for him.”

That was the truth. Y/N had seen peeks of girls he had flirted with or gone off to hook up with and they didn’t exactly look like her. Not at all.

“Oh, babe. I’m sorry.” Julia sighed. “No. I didn’t mean it that way. If anyone has shit to say, fuck ‘em. I was just surprised. You’ve never been the bad boy aesthetic type but hey, if he’s nice to you that’s all that matters. As long as he knows you’ve got a miniature blonde friend who’s ready to attack ankles at any moment for hurting you and knows how to hide bodies… we’re all good.”

Y/N had let it go. Julia meant well, but this was exactly why she wanted to wait a bit to let their friend group know they were… something? Seeing each other? They hadn't even gone on a date yet so it seemed to be a stretch to say dating, but whatever it was. Not until it felt steady. They’d all worry over her and warn Harry off when in reality, all he had done in the past was be anxious and let Y/N read him wrong.

She wanted to protect him from the ribbing and the questions and let them get to know one another in a more intimate way privately. It would be something she would have to bring up to him later…. But how?

—-------------

H: Hi, gorgeous. What are you up to?

Y/N: Hi hi :) Just got done making cinnamon bread.

H: And are you bringing me a piece of that tonight?

H: Please say yes or I’ll probably cry.

Y/N: Of course, crazy. What do you take me for?

H: A goddess, if you continue bringing me baked goods.

H: But please remember that there is a snack counter there and I will be happy to buy you whatever you want from there or pick up something beforehand.

Y/N: I really can pay for some of it myself. I feel a little bad making you pay for everything, you’ve already got the tickets.

H: I’ve got the tickets and more. If I’m taking you out, I’m paying, sweetheart. Nonnegotiable. Your payment can be some of that bread, if it makes you feel better.

H: I’m just happy you said yes and are giving me a chance after I’ve made an ass of myself.

Y/N: H :( no

Y/N: You didn’t mean to make me feel bad. I internalized it and maybe you need to work on communication a bit but honestly, It’s all water under the bridge!!! I’m really really excited to go out with you.

Harry ran his hand over his face. His wrist ached from the 6 hour session the day prior but he was more than a mess of nerves now that the time for their date was almost here. He vacuumed out his car, cleaned it, sprayed with some sort of spray, and replaced the little vent air freshener. The whole thing. His range rover wasn’t ideal for this sort of thing so he had chosen his vintage convertible. The bench seat could lay back and provide more lounging space- and that’s exactly what he had wanted.

This had been his first dream purchase once he started making more money at his shop. As soon as he finished his car payments on the Range Rover, he had set his sights on a vintage car to cruise around in by himself during the warm nights, a good sound system having been modified in it so he could lose himself in thought while driving down the coastline. This car was his baby. Soft yellow exterior with a pinstripe detail, the smooth car appealed to him immediately. He’s spent months scouring sites and driving to look at different listings but this one had his heart immediately. There hadn’t been too much to change on it, but he had made his personalization with black and white fuzzy dice hanging off the rearview mirror, said sound system, and refreshed seats. The car had been his reward for the hard work and his endless backaches from being hunched over tattooing.

It had been a no brainer to choose this one but he did worry about if Y/N would think he was being overly flashy. Harry had never been one to show his money off to the masses, instead choosing to invest a lot and keep everything quiet. He’d seen some friends, seen his own clients even complain about how people used them for money and with the concept being newer to him, he wanted to be responsible. He’d read too many financial horror stories on reddit to risk it. His mates guessed he made a decent amount considering how much his minimum was and how picky he was with clients, and sure he picked up the tab a lot without saying who did it, but he tried to keep himself a bit guarded with that. He hoped that if this continued with Y/N- which god, he was praying it would- she wouldn’t be upset with him keeping that a bit of a secret.

To be honest, he was overthinking every single thing. Despite appearing cool, calm and collected in his texts, he had felt like his thoughts were running out of his head at max speed. Realistically, he knew Y/N wouldn’t have said yes if she didn’t want to. She’d have been more than justified if she had, but somehow Harry must have done something right to get the karma to have not only her forgiveness, but her affection. Even the slightest bit.

Triple checking his outfit, he had felt silly brushing his overgrown hair out of his face but still made sure that there hadn’t been some miracle stain that showed up on his tee shirt or new rip in his pants. There wasn’t, as suspected, and he finally made himself leave the house. The car had the blankets folded in the trunk, along with the two oversized pillows he had purposely chosen despite being a bit chunky. They were straight off his bed, the best ones he had ever found. The plush purple blanket was oversized, a steal from a liquidation store he went to just to feel like he could ‘treasure hunt’ was big enough to cover the seats, and he had a few different ones for Y/N to choose from in the back.

Was she a faux fur blanket girl? Linen? Crochet? Plush? Velveteen? Another obscure but endearing thing he wanted to carve out of her.

The drive to her place consisted of Lana Del Rey and the top up of the car. It was obvious it was a convertible but he was trying to keep the warm breeze as a shared experience for them both tonight. The real nerves had hit outside of her stairs, his phone dipped back in his pocket once she had told him she was on her way down. His palms were sweating, a constant reminder of himself to not fuck this up playing on a neverending loop in his head.

The world went quiet for a moment, though, once Y/N opened the door and shot him a smile so sweet that it almost hurt his own teeth.

Every time he saw Y/N he had been in awe of her beauty, but it hit a little different now. She had dressed up for the purpose of going out with him. Her lavender colored dress with slightly puffy sleeves, casual as ever with its soft looking fabric, but seeing something like that on her was bringing it to a new level. It swished on her thighs, brushing an inch or so above her knees. Sandals were on her feet and a cream colored oversized bag that resembled one he brought to the beach was hung over her shoulder, snapping against the pavement as she descended the stairs and made her way over to him.

“Hi!” She chirped, eyes sparkling slightly in the afternoon sun. Sunset would happen in just 30 or so minutes and he had to wonder how his brain would handle seeing her in a golden glow in his car. On a date with him. “You look really handsome, H.”

It was so opposite what people would assume of a man with his general outward demeanor and rough around the edges appearance. His cheeks heating and having to swallow a lump in his throat to unknot so he could reply to a simple compliment, you’d never expect it. Harry liked that maybe only Y/N would be able to uncover a part of him he kept hidden to protect himself from hurt. The iron armor he kept guarding his heart seemed to melt to molten metal when she reached up to take a hug from him. She smelled so fresh, like laundry in the best way. The warm type right out of the dryer, unsullied from any possible contaminants. She smelled brand new, a start over for him.

“You always seem to outdo yourself in how gorgeous y’look when I see you.” His guts had returned when he was hugging her, unable to see her reaction. Somehow, Harry could remain stone faced when drunk people came in demanding ink, when he’d gotten in fights at bars during that rougher period, but he couldn't control himself around a soft little doe of a girl like Y/N.

“Thank you.” She grinned, pulling back with her eyes finding his until her attention was stolen by the car behind him. “Oh my god… Is this a new car?”

Pride bloomed in his chest as she fawned over his car, one of his prized possessions that she was slightly bouncing on her toes as her hand ran over the hood. This was the reaction he had been hoping for. “Well, technically it’s an old one.” The joke was cracked with a smirk, making Y/N laugh and his chest feel full.

“No shit, funny man.” Her hand pushed his bicep. “I mean, when did you get it? I’ve never seen you drive this, just your Range Rover.”

“It’s sort of a special occasion car. Drives down the coast mostly, sometimes car meets if Niall finds one and tells me to bring it. I got it a while ago but the other car is more practical so it stays in the garage while I put the milage on the other one.” He placed a hand on the handle to open up her door, letting her take a look inside. “It’s really special to me. I try t’be careful with her.”

“Her?” Y/N rose a brow as she sat herself in the seat, wiggling around as she got comfortable. “Should I be jealous?”

Her own flirty jokes made Harry relax a tiny bit more. He wasn’t the only one feeling this, and it made him feel a whole lot better to hear it from her. “No, no. She’s got nothing on you, darling.” With a wink, he closed her door and jogged around to his side and patting himself on the back for not choking at the response he just gave.

—---

Y/N’s own body was buzzing with nerves. Sitting in this fantastic car that she knew her grandfather would absolutely lose his head over, Hozier’s ‘Abstract’ played through the radio and her hair was fluttering around as Harry drove through the streets towards the destination. The sun was warming her cheek, hand dipping up and down as she let the wind pass through her fingers. There was some chatter but mostly a silence that Y/N found to be quite comfortable. Harry wasn’t an incredibly talkative person in general but he seemed to be a lot more open when it was just the two of them. She was enjoying this, the overall energy pretty good- a bit nervous and giggly but what first date didn’t start off like that?

“How did you even find out about this?” Y/N turned to look at him as they waited in line to park his car and let them scan the code he had open on his phone. “Like, I didn’t even know there was a drive-in so close to us. I still feel like a newbie here sometimes but.. It was really thoughtful. I never thought I’d get to see this one on a big screen since it had come out before I could have watched it.”

“I remembered you liked that movie we were seeing when I was scrolling down instagram. It was weird, I knew there was one but I never interacted with anything about it so… The algorithm must have helped me out.” He laughed, running his thumb over his lower lip to hide his smile a little bit. “I know people normally would say a movie on a first date would be a little eh, but we know each other a little and it’s your favorite. It’s outside, too. Anything is ten times better under the stars.”

Y/N loved that. That was true, but for someone who had been so nervous to speak to her before he was sure as hell doing a good job finding all the soft pleasure spots in her brain and stroking them. Clicking off things on her mental list she didn’t know she had. “I’m glad it did. I’m excited, especially with a car like this, it’s incredible. You did a perfect job picking this out.” Truly, he had plucked a dream scenario from her romantic underbelly and brought it up to the surface.

“Good.” He smiled, pulling up to the person scanning their tickets. It was pay per car, so it hadn’t been too spendy, but Harry was more than going to make up for it. His relief was clearly lifted off his shoulders as she expressed her approval of his choice. He’d probably fall on down the sewer if she hated it.

Their spot was a place in the middle and towards the back. There were only about 50 spots, and they had definitely been a bit fucked with traffic but at least they werent in a corner. Cutting the car off, he took a breath before turning to her. “We’re gonna pull the top down and uh, the bench seat flattens out. So it can be easier to stretch out.” He flexed his hand around the gearshift, watching as her face brightened. “I’ve got loads of blankets in the trunk and two pillows too. M’not trying to be suggestive but it’s easier to get comfortable.” Harry wanted to make this the most memorable date- in a good way. The knowledge of the fact he knew for a fact other guys in the group fancied her and could talk to her without seeming like an ass used to make his stomach hurt, but it was such a relief to have her with him now. She was way too sweet and understanding but he adored the fact that she had particularly chosen him to go out with. Y/N wasn’t a prize, she wasn’t an object, but he felt like he was a winner for getting to spend time with her.

“Here-” He took his wallet out and slipped one of his cards out. “Go and get whatever you want for the movie and we can get proper food after.” The cool plastic was paced into her palm, his fingers closing her own around it so she didn’t drop it. “Whatever y’want and I mean it. They’ve got those chocolate bars y’like, I saw online. Buy the whole candy case if you want. I’ll get this fixed up and meet you over there to help carry it.”

Y/N wasn’t going to argue, her jello like knees shaking as she walked over to the retro shack. It was unreal. Harry had seemed to put a lot of thought into every step. His mention of knowing her favorite chocolate was there and that he’d remembered it even just having heard it in a very tipsy conversation she’d had with Charlotte with Harry ‘glaring’ at her across the table. Apparently, he had just been focusing on her answer and not wishing she would drop dead. Who’d have thought?

Rocking on her feet, Y/N looked over the menu and made her mind up pretty quickly- an absolute miracle for her- as soon as she saw the selection of drinks. Usually she wasn’t a carbonated bev type of person, but when she saw you could add little flavors into them, she was more than happy to order a sprite with strawberry flavoring. She had only been a few places where they’d done so before, so she was taking it. She went with a Root Beer for Harry and another bottle of water to split, a large popcorn and a side of the cheese sauce that she lovingly called plastic cheese like her mother always had. As much as she was tempted, she chose 3 things of candy. Sour, sweet and chocolate. The array.

Swiping his card felt a little wrong but secretly, she was happy that he had insisted. There had been many a date where the man hadn’t even offered, or who thought buying a lackluster meal meant he should have access to her body. While she didn’t need him to pay, the gesture was what she liked. Harry had been nothing but respectful once he had actually opened his mouth to talk to her.

Placing the lids on the drinks, she had placed them on the tray but frowned slightly at the idea of walking across the field balancing them and not dropping them. Thankfully she felt a large hand on her own as the tray had been swiftly taking into his grip. The tray that had seemed ginormous in her own hands looked small in his.

“Told you I’d come to help. You don't need to be carrying it.”

Again, Y/N didn’t feel like arguing as she let him lead her back to the car, his lack of clumsiness making her look twice as bad. She’d stumbled three times, the uneven terrain making it a little difficult with the dents the cars had carved into spots in the lot. Thank the sky above she had let him take it. Her mind had been on that but was taken out of thought when she saw the set up. It was so cute, Y/N almost let out a coo as she watched him place the tray on the close trunk. It had been set up like a bed, three blankets overlapping each other on top.

“Didn’t know the kind of blanket you liked so I brought a few.”

If he got any more adorable, Y/N would lose it.

“You did? That’s so sweet, H.” She whispered, slipping her shoes off as he opened the door to let her get in easier. There was no way she was about to mess up the thing he had put so much thought into. Her eyes went to the plushy one, lifting that one as Harry removed his boots. “I claim this one.”

Harry added the blanket preference to his Y/N list mentally.

“Perfect.” He nodded. “Did you want to share or do separate ones?”

The days were perfectly warm, but since the sun had been setting the cool night had been settling over the place. It got nippy, and Y/N was selfish and curious. “Sharing is fine.” She peeped, spreading it across her lap and holding it open for him. This would bring them closer. His thigh was near hers, sitting sprawled out as he carefully balanced the tray to sit in front of them.

This was just… good. Harry was obviously a little nervous still, but Y/N was laughing at his jokes, she had been interested in what he had to say. It wasn’t the fake half assed listening most people did. She asked detailed follow up questions and laughed at the right times, especially when their hands met when trying to grab some popcorn as the trailers before the move began.

They were shifting closer to one another, slowly allowing it to happen until Harry suggested laying back. The popcorn setted between them, He put a second blanket on them when he noticed her shiver slightly. Y/N was trying to figure out how to ask to cuddle with him without asking outright, but it was hard. All he was doing was being respectful but she wanted to be closer to him, wanted his arm around her and the cold to disappear. It felt like everytime they brushed that she got pleasantly flushed.

“Y’cold still?” Harry whispered, another shiver getting his attention. He didn’t need to know it was from his hand brushing the popcorn from her thigh over the blanket.

“Yeah, I run cold” She said softly. “Can we get closer? Body heat is a bit better.”

Harry loved it. Her innocent expression but obviously wanting to get closer, to be held by him specifically. “I’m never going to say no to having’ you close to me, sweetheart.”

His arm was lifted and she ducked underneath, his body turning slightly on his side so she could get close and lean into him, the blankets pulled to their chins and his hand falling to her arm where he began to run his fingers over.

Y/N wanted to squeal, but she settled for a happy little wriggle disguised as getting comfortable. He was indeed much warmer than blankets, but his fingers running over her and her cheek pressed against his shoulder with his body heat leaking through his shirt made her warm right in her stomach. His touch felt so good, comforting and exciting all at the same time. So far, this had been the best date she had ever been on and it really had just begun.

—------

Y/N was so beautiful.

Harry had been paying far too much attention to the girl curled up against him like a little kitten. Purring as he stroked her bare skin once his fingers had gone under the blanket for her. The screen illuminated her face as she watched her movie, his lips watching her lips as she silently recited lines and giggled at the right moments. He was learning a lot just watching her reactions. The yearning on her face during the softer romantic scenes, what things got little giggles, what made her cringe. How long her eyelashes were and how her nose curved, the tiny marks on her face he had never seen.

This was the type of date he had always wanted to have. To go out with a girl he genuinely liked, who saw more of him than met the eye, who wanted to get to know him. Someone who could make him loosen up a bit. He’d not had any goals for this besides having her enjoy herself and hopefully grow to like him more. Enough to give him a shot of dating her. It made him realize how his past in bed hadn’t made him feel a fraction of the excitement or even pleasure that this did. Simply sitting with a girl he had a massive crush on holding onto his shirt, watching her beauty in real time. There was no feeling of rush with her. As much as he was truly attracted to her, he was happy with this. Maybe a kiss or two would throw him over the moon. Just being in this scenario felt like a dream come true.

He was sure the movie was great, but the vision in front of him was far, far more interesting to him.

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draco-dormiens · 4 months

Text

THE STRANGEST OF PLACES - Chapter Twenty Two

draco x fem!ravenclaw reader / postwar au series

warnings: strong language, angst, alcohol use (characters are 18+)

wc: 3375

masterlist

taglist is now closed - i’ve officially run out of tags! thank you all

One Hell of a Dinner Party

"So, Draco, your mother tells us you've taken a fancy to Ministry work," Mr Greengrass asks the young Malfoy heir from across the long dark wood table, between them a feast for at least a hundred people laid out by house elves scuttering to and fro, "fine place, the Ministry. Well, under the correct management, that is."

The man laughs, as Lucius joins purely out of politeness. Draco, too, manages a small laugh, as he pushes the food around his plate.

"Well, I've been thinking about that, yes," he answers, Astoria gazing at him from across the way, Daphne on her umpteenth glass of wine, "but I also like medicine, sir, so maybe a job at St. Mungo's."

"St. Mungo's, you say?" the older gentlemen looks over at this wife, Mrs Greengrass, who cuts her food into pea size pieces, and gives her an rather unreadable look, "very noble of you son, to want to help others, but what about the pay, and the hours? Not a very suitable job for a family man, wouldn't you agree, Lucius?"

"Ah, well, we have always told Draco he may choose whatever profession he would like," Lucius goes on to explain, dabbing the corners of his mouth with his napkin, "I'm sure, once he has climbed up the ranks, he will have more flexibility with the job."

Mr Greengrass scoffs amusingly.

"And how long would that take, Lucius? Narcissa, surely you would prefer Draco to choose a much more stable profession? There are plenty of places in accounting at the Ministry, I can always put a good word in for your boy." said Mr Greengrass.

Draco clenches his fist under the table. If it wasn't for his mother breathing down his neck, he would've given old Greengrass a piece of his mind. Astoria, like a deer in the headlights, looks between the adults with a nervous disposition.

"The offer is very much appreciated, isn't it, dear?" Narcissa then speaks up, looking over at Draco with a desperate sort of look in her eyes. Draco, already fed up and even more so now Mr Greengrass had voiced his opinion, takes a deep breath and forces a smile onto his face.

"Tell me, Mr Greengrass," Draco said in the most sarcastic tone he could muster, Daphne shaking her head at him in the corner of his eye in an attempt to stop whatever he was thinking about saying, "you've been at the Ministry for some time now. How do you find sleeping at night?"

"Right, how about some dessert?" Narcissa says very loudly, chair legs scraping along the dining room floor as she begins gathering plates and passing them to the tiny house elf, "I made the most delicious looking pavlova. Mrs Greengrass, care for some? Tea or coffee, anyone?"

Her voice seemed to be getting higher in pitch as she spoke, the tension now thick and rather unpleasant. Within a few minutes, the table was cleared and in floated several mouth-watering desserts. Along with Narcissa's pavlova, there was freshly baked strawberry cheesecake, double chocolate fudge cake and boats of pouring cream and custard. As the dessert settled on the tables service, talk of school began, and Draco's mind started to drift far away from the conversation around him.

"We are so proud of Astoria," Mrs Greengrass boasts, helping herself to the thinnest slice of cheesecake the world has ever seen, "we have full faith she will come out with top marks. Such a clever and interesting young woman."

Daphne snorts quietly as she indulges in chocolate cake, Draco meeting her eyes with a small smirk tugging at his lips. Astoria gives her sister a stern look. Their mother then changes the subject to Draco's school days, much to his dismay.

"Astoria tells us that you're rather sporty, Draco," Mrs Greengrass then asks, picking at her cheesecake, "she says you've taken up Quidditch this year?"

"He's always played Quidditch, Ma," Daphne rolls her eyes, "can't you remember?"

"The best seeker Slytherin has seen in years," Astoria speaks loudly over her sister, "Madam Hooch even says so. Thanks to him Slytherin have done extremely well this year."

"Isn't that wonderful, dear?" Mrs Greengrass says to Mr Greengrass, who hums in agreement as his mouth is full of pavlova, "and have you always liked playing Quidditch, dear?"

Draco clears his throat.

"I had a break in sixth year," he explains, all eyes now on him, "but I recently got back into it," he pauses for a moment, glancing at the six people around the table, "a good friend of mine helped me regain my passion for it."

Astoria choked a little on her dessert, before gulping down a glass of water.

"It's always nice to have good friends around you," Mrs Greengrass smiles, "does your friend also play Quidditch? Is he into sport?"

"She doesn't play, no," Draco smiles, the thought of you making his evening feel a little lighter. Daphne excuses herself to use the restroom, sensing the rise in tension as her mother's eyes widen to the size of the dessert plates.

"She?" Mrs Greengrass repeats in a sort of strained voice.

"Draco, why don't you tell Mr and Mrs Greengrass about your potions classes this year? You've thoroughly enjoyed them, haven't you?" Narcissa nudges Draco's leg under the table harshly, glaring at him over her cheesecake and cream.

"Do you have many friends, Draco?" Mrs Greengrass asks, shrugging off Narcissa, her face souring even though she was trying her best to keep a smile on her face. Mr Greengrass, oblivious to the current topic, was talking Lucius' ear off about his recent investment at the Ministry.

Draco grits his teeth, remembers what he's enduring this for, and lays down his fork.

"No, ma'am," he digs his nails into his knee to ease some of the frustration, Astoria staring at him with such intensity he almost feels his skin burning, "I'm afraid I don't mix all that well."

"He's being modest," Astoria laughs awkwardly, "Draco has many friends. Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini; you remember them, Mummy?"

She hums, and takes a miniscule bite of cheesecake.

Once dessert was over, the plates were cleared and in came the pots of tea and coffee, floating on silver trays with small, sugared biscuits on each coaster. A teacup was given to each of them, followed by their choice with cream or milk. Small talk passed the time, as Draco contemplated his entire existence in his cup of tea. In his pocket sits the little velvet box, a rock nestled in a silver band inside, waiting to be placed on Astoria's long, pale finger. He catches her line of vision when he looks up, and she smiles over her cup. He smiles back, and the guilt of his unrequited feelings starts to make him feel nauseous.

As soon as tea and coffee was finished, Narcissa leads the guests back to the drawing room, where fresh bottles of wine and glasses had been placed on a golden tray in the centre of the coffee table. The fire was smoldering, as even in the summer, the large rooms of Malfoy Manor rarely heat up enough. Conversation starts once more, and the time for Draco's proposal creeps ever closer. He could feel his parents eyes on him every second, any time he refilled Astoria's glass with sparkling grape presse and her fingers brushed his, even when he shuffled slightly in his seat. The anticipation was clearly killing them. Even Mrs Greengrass jolted when he moved. It seemed everyone was eager, except for him. Daphne became topic of conversation for a while, Narcissa asking her twenty questions from her job search to her love life.

"I just love wizarding fashion, Mrs Malfoy," Daphne explains, playing with the ends of her golden, silky hair. Daphne was always beautiful, but Blaise had long made his interests known for the eldest Greengrass daughter, "Madam Malkin has been so kind as to let me help her around the shop, only to get some experience. I want to be a steam stress eventually, and design my own tasteful gowns for young witches."

"And what about Pansy?" Draco hears his mother ask, and his heart drops to his feet upon remembering what Pansy had witnessed, "do you still see one another? I have invited the family over to the manor a few times. Lovely girl, isn't she, Draco?"

"Uh, yeah," Draco nods, trying to sound genuine, "she was always... around, right, Daph?"

Daphne stifles a laugh.

"Indeed she was," Daphne agrees, and then smirks devilishly, "I think the reason for that was her... what shall we call it... interest, in you, Dray."

"Interest. Sure." Draco sips on his wine as Daphne turns her head to chuckle. It would seem Pansy knew better than to blab about her findings that night; she may be a lot of things, Pansy Parkinson, but being disloyal to Draco didn't seem to be one of them. She knew, just as well as he did, that Draco knew her all too well. There were a fair few things he was sure her parents would be interested to find out about their precious Pansy.

"Would anyone care for a drink in the garden?" Narcissa then asks, giving Draco a knowing look, "Draco, why don't you take Astoria to see my flower beds and wait for us to join you?"

This was the moment he'd been dreading. In his mother's letter, she strictly said to be prepared for when she offers the Greengrasses a drink in the garden. That was the perfect time, she said, to get down on one knee. As Astoria's parents walk out into the courtyard, surrounded by Narcissa's immaculate flower beds, Draco would be asking for their daughter's hand in marriage. How romantic, his mother had written, under the summer moon. It will be spectacular.

How scripted, more like, is what Draco thought.

A sudden cold sweat dripped down Draco's back. He grips the little box in his pocket, and for a long moment, doesn't respond to what his mother was asking of him. He didn't realise how long he'd been standing there, slack-jawed, until Narcissa cleared her throat loudly and gave him a look only a mother could.

"Oh, uh, yes, I can do that," he then rushes out, and holds out a clammy hand for Astoria to take, "please, let me lead the way."

She takes his hand without haste. Draco, silently, takes the girl out of the drawing room and through the house, all the while gripping the box in his pocket. Astoria, not sure what to make of Draco's strange behaviour, remains just as quiet, her heels clicking along the tiled floors and echoing in the stale air. As they neared the glass doors leading to the courtyard, they pass the staircase leading up to the room which Draco took you to. The one with the big window that seems to look out at the entire universe. He stops, dead in his tracks, and stares at the doorway.

"I was just thinking how big the world is, you know?" you had said, and he remembers looking across at you and thinking how nice you looked. How pretty you were, and how ignorant he was for never noticing that, "like, all those little specs in the sky are something, and we're just here. Looking up at them. A small piece in a big puzzle."

He recalls thinking that your mind must be a rather interesting place, to come out with something as deep as that. But then you asked him, perhaps the most complicated question he'd ever heard, and if he thinks about it, if you were to ask him now, his answer would be completely different.

"Have you ever loved anyone?"

He remembers, his answer was no. And he was quite confident in that answer, but now...

Now he had tasted what it felt like to crave someone, to want their presence even in the most mundane moments. When he's alone in bed at night. When he's reading in silence. When he's needing a comforting word or someone to lean on.

"Draco?" Astoria's voice sounds distant, "are you alright?"

A tidal wave of memories came rushing back to him. Christmas. Watching the stars, playing chess in the Astronomy tower. Burning potions. Arguing. The moment you threw that silly little drawing into the fire. All those nights you spent listening to him ramble on about constellations. The taste of your lips and the feeling of your hand in his. How, no matter how much he tries, he simply cannot be without you. A piece of him was forever missing.

"Draco," Astoria shakes him a little, worry plastered all over her face when he finally snaps out of it and faces her, "what's wrong? You went rigid and pale. Are you feeling well?"

"I, uh..." he begins, but the words get stuck, and suddenly the long corridor is suffocating, the air is thin and his suit is uncomfortable, "need some air."

He rushes off without her, loosening his tie and running a hand through his neat hair. Astoria hurries after him, calling for him to slow down, to tell her what was wrong. As he approaches the courtyard doors, he pushes them open with so much force that the glass rattles in the panes. The cooler night air hits him like a bludger to the head, and for the first time in an extremely long time, one thing was so strong and clear in his mind that everything else was getting lost within it, and his strength was returning to his spent and beaten soul.

"I can't do this," he says, as Astoria comes to a halt behind him, panting slightly, "I... can't do this. I see it now. All this time I've... What the fuck am I doing?"

Astoria doesn't say anything, instead, she merely comes to stand beside him. For a long moment, they just stand in silence.

"Draco," Astoria then breaks it, and Draco's watery eyes meet hers, "we both know what is expected of us tonight. Right now, as we stand here, they are waiting for the right time to witness our engagement. Even Daphne sussed it."

"Astoria," Draco's quiet voice says, "I can't-"

"Do you believe in soul mates, Draco?" Astoria continues, but Draco can't seem to find an answer. The pretty brunette continues anyway, "because I do. I believe it's not our hearts that yearn for another, but our souls. I like to think, that somewhere out there, a soul wanders this earth looking for its other half... it's soul mate."

She then turns to face him fully, a gust of wind ruffling her long brown locks. A smile graces her features, and she gently places her hand on his face.

"I want you to know, whatever you chose to do tonight, I understand," she whispers to him, "because the other half of my soul is still out there... but you, Draco, you have found yours."

"What are you saying, 'Storia?" Draco mutters, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, "you've always been so adamant that this is what needs to happen. Why the sudden change of heart?"

She shrugs.

"It's true, that I'd be happy to marry you, Draco," she admits freely, "but seeing you tonight, how stressed you've been, how unsettled throughout dinner. Why should someone make you feel that way? No matter what way you look at it, you are unhappy. We would marry, and you would still be unhappy. You'd learn to live with it, because that's the kind of man you are. Monogamous and faithful," she retracts her hand and looks out over the garden, "when you stopped back there, you were thinking of her, weren't you?"

"I feel so terrible," he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut, "why is this happening?"

"I want you to understand that I will never think ill of you, Draco," Astoria reassures him, "I don't think I ever could. If you walk away now, then I will not stop you. If you chose to stay and marry me, then I can only ask that you learn to live with your decision, and we make the best out of this situation. You have a choice. I never should have made you think otherwise. It was wrong of me."

A choice. Draco has never been presented with one of those before. He takes a deep, shaky breath and then remembers Grangers words. He remembers the dinner at Weasleys, the chance that Granger had taken the liberty to offer him, and as if a fire was lit from under him, courage and warmth spread throughout his entire body.

"Astoria," he says firm and serious, turning his entire body to face her fully, and takes her hands in his, "I want you to know that I have always and will always wish you happiness. You will make someone very happy one day, I'm absolutely certain of it, but mostly," he presses a quick kiss to her hand, "I thank you, for giving me something no one ever has before."

"What's that?" she asks, tilting her head slightly.

"A choice," he whispers, and she smiles a teary smile.

"Go to your soul mate, Draco," she tells him, "and don't look back, you understand?"

He pulls her into his embrace, squeezes her as if his life depends on it, and backs away before breaking into a sprint across the garden. If he was to make it, he at least had to apparate to Weasleys before the night was over. But first, he had to get as far away from the manor as he could. Behind him, he could hear the commotion, and Mr Greengrasses furious voice bellowing.

"What do you mean he's gone?" the man shouts, Astoria's calmer voice trying to explain the situation best she could. Draco hid behind a large oak tree, far enough away to apparate safely. As he catches his breath, he hears Mrs Greengrass uncontrollably sobbing and wailing into the night like a hurt animal.

"Stood up! Our precious Astoria! You should be ashamed Narcissa, ashamed I tell you!"

"It's not like that!" Astoria's voice yelled, causing the ruckus to seize, "this is a mutual decision, mother."

"Our son would never do this without reason, Mrs Greengrass, please be assured," Narcissa tries to quell the situation, "there has to be a perfectly good explanation."

"He's in love with someone else," Daphne puts simply, and gasps from all around are heard throughout the night, "he has to be. Silly boy thinks he's hiding it well. Couldn't be more obvious if he said it out right."

"With who, exactly?" Narcissa asks frantically, "not once has he mentioned..." she trails off, remembering a slice of conversation between them, a small detail she should have paid much more mind to, when he asked "Would you and father resent me?"

"Narcissa!" Mr Greengrass says abruptly, "explain this mess or so help me-"

"If you speak to my wife in that tone again, Mr Greengrass, I think you may need to leave." Lucius says coolly, coming to stand before the man, who was much smaller in comparison.

"No need to worry, Lucius, as we are very much leaving," Mr Greengrass flares his nostrils, "girls, get your coats. Never again are we stepping foot in this house."

Mrs Greengrass, still sobbing and wailing, follows her husband back through the house. Daphne politely thanks Narcissa and Lucius with a sympathetic smile. As Astoria passes, she thinks twice about saying something, and then double backs on herself.

"Mr and Mrs Malfoy," she calls back, and they both turn to face her, "Draco may not want me to intervene, but I must say this," She pauses, looking back as her father calls for her, "he has tried, for many months now, to gather the courage to marry how you wish. He has battled with his true feelings and the fear of disappointing you. Even I, and I realise now I had no place, tried to convince him that he must follow this path, and not the one he chooses for himself," another furious call from Mr Greengrass and Astoria begins backing away towards the glass doors, "please, if there's one thing I can ask of you, it's that you hear him out. Please."

"ASTORIA, IF YOU DON'T GET HERE RIGHT NOW-"

"Please, listen to him," are her final words as shes rushing back through the doors and out of sight, leaving Narcissa and Lucius in a state of utter confusion.

And just over the way, behind the large oak tree, Draco successfully apparates to the Weasley's home.

disclaimer: i do not own hp or any of the characters in this story

tags:

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#draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco x female reader #draco x ravenclaw!reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco imagine #draco angst #draco fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hpff

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cherrycola27 · 10 months

Text

false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to and eventual smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

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Chapter 2: You Should See Me In A Crown

The rest of your first week with the Dagger Squad is spent working on team building. You spend the week being professional with them, especially Rooster. In your time, you've learned it's better not to make friends. It saves you from getting hurt.

That doesn't mean they don't try, though. Every time they go out, they invite you with them. You turn them down each time, a new excuse fed to them that seems to satisfy them.

It's been a month since you've been working with the Daggers, and you've settled in nicely. This week, you've been working in the classroom with Maverick. It's a nice change of pace and gets you far away from Rooster.

He's been nothing but nice to you this month, and you aren't sure how someone who's faces so much loss in his life can be so kind. You've never seen him be anything but kind to his teammates. Sure, he and Jake shoot the breeze and tease each other relentlessly, but there's no animosity behind it.

When the squad is at the Hard Deck, it seems like he knows everyone. People are just drawn to him. He has a light that shines from with in, just like—

Stop, don't go there

When Friday comes around, you're scheduled for an early morning hop with Hangman and then an afternoon one with Rooster.

As much as you don't want to be, you're excited to fly with Bradley. It scares you, if you're being honest.

It would be so much easier for you to deny the feelings you have for Rooster if he acted like Jake did.

Unfortunately, he was just shy of perfect. You knew that Aphroditie had to be pulling some strings and laughing as she watched you try to resist.

Bradley was kind, smart, and had an infectious personality. He was a ray of sunshine. A golden boy who rivaled Apollo himself, and you—you were darkness, chaos, death. You were a monster. And he needed to be protected from you and the pain you would inevitably cause him.

He's too good for you

You shook the thoughts from your head as you geared up to fly.

You would be working against Bob, Phoenix, and Hangman. Your goal was to take them down, theirs was to take you down.

In theory, they should have been able to do it. Two against one seemed like pretty good odds. However, Jake still had a lot to learn about teamwork. From what you've been told and what you've read, he'd gotten better at it, but when it came down to it, he was still self-centered. Today was going to be a good opportunity to teach him a lesson.

You were cruising along under them when a wicked idea came to mind.

"Hey, Hangman, what do you say we make a little wager?" You purred into your headset. "Oh, you know I'm a betting man, Hades, what do you have in mind?" He asked you.

"You take me down, and I'll let you take my Rover for the weekend. I know you have a giant hard-on for it." You goad him.

"Ohhh, I like that idea. Now if by some chance I don't, what do you get out of this?" He shoots back. "You have to stop hitting on me, because it's never going to happen." You state.

You'd rather swim in the River Styx

"Deal." Jake answers quickly. "Perfect." You reply.

God, he was making this too easy

"Fights on!" You tell him and Phoenix before popping out from under them.

"Hades? In front of us? Really, you're making this too easy!" Jake snickers.

You smirk to yourself. You've got him right where you want him. You quickly change gears in your jet and take off, leaving both of the other planes in the dust.

Jake follows hot on your tale, leaving Phoenix and Bob behind. You can hear both of them swear at Jake. You quickly break right and circle back to them.

Phoenix tries to shake you, but it's no use. "Sorry, Nix and Bob." You tell them before tones ring out.

You can hear the radar warning that Jake is on your tail. He thinks he's got you, but boy is he wrong.

You swoop left and right again and again. Jake can't get a lock on you.

You quickly climb up towards the clear blue sky.

"Phoenix, I can't see her! How close am I?" He asked her. "Phoenix?!"

"I'm dead, dick head." She calls back to him.

You laugh to yourself. This is exactly what you planned. You invert your jet and double back over his head. The glare of the sun provides a cover for you as you level out and drop into the pocket behind him undetected.

Hangman is good. You'll give him that. But you weren't just the queen of the Underworld. You were the queen of the skies, too.

"Hades! Where the fuck are you?" Jake huffs out.

Jake struggles in the sun and levels out. You take the chance to pop back up behind him.

"Right here!" You shout as you pop up and light him up with tones. He lets out a string of curses before banking left and heading into land.

You don't see him, but Bradley is in the rec room listening in on the exercise. He beams with pride when he hears you take out Jake.

"See you in the afterlife, Bagman." Bob chuckles.

"Alright. That's enough for now. Let's bring it in." You say.

As soon as you get out of your jet, everyone starts to high five you for besting Jake. You all break for lunch, groups heading off in different directions to eat.

You grab your lunchbox from the fridge and a book from your locker before heading to the rec room which is thankfully empty right now.

You'd just sat down and cracked the cover of your book and kicked your feet up in a chair when you heard the door open and a set of heavy boots on the floor. You don't look up. You already know who it is.

Sigh

"Can I help you with something, Rooster?" You ask, eyes not leaving your page. "I was hoping I could have lunch with you?" He asks.

You sigh and look up from your book. He's standing there with his lunch box in hand, looking at you with those damn baby-cow eyes and a small smile. You can't help but give in.

Good Gods, why did he have to be so handsome?

You take your feet off the chair and nod that it's okay for him to sit. You bookmark your page and set it to the side. He smiles bigger before sitting down and looking at the cover of your book.

Maybe he won't talk to you

"A Good Girls Guide to Murder?" He asks you, looking at the cover with a quirked eyebrow.

"I love a good murder mystery. I like trying to figure out the ending before the author reveals it." You shrug before taking a bite of the wrap you packed.

"Why do you try to do that?" Bradley asks you as he pulls out what is supposed to be a sandwich, but looks more like a toddler's art project.

"I don't like surprises." You tell him honestly. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to come off harsh, but Rooster, what the fuck is that?" You ask as you point to his pitiful excuse for lunch.

He laughs and rakes a hand over his face. "'It was supposed to be a club sandwich, but I was in a rush this morning, and I may have accidentally set my gym bag on my lunch box during my drive here, and so now it's— I don't even know. If you think this looks bad, you should see pretzels."

You can't help but snort out a laugh at his misfortune. You watch him struggle to separate the layers of his sandwich from the plastic wrap. You give him a few minutes before taking pity on him and snatching it out of his hand and tossing it in the trash can.

"Hey! I was going to eat that!" He jokingly scolds you.

You roll your eyes at him before unzipping your lunch box. You were sure you'd regret this later, but you needed him properly fueled up for flying with you, that's why you were doing this.

Maybe a friendship wouldn't be so bad

"Here," you say as you extend the extra wrap you had packed towards him.

"Thank you, but I can't take your food." Bradley politely declines.

"You can, and you will. That's an order from your superior officer. Can't have you flying with me at anything less than you best." You firmly state.

"Yes, Ma'am, Commander." Bradley relents. There's an edge of something in his voice when he calls you by your rank. It's smoother than how he normally addresses you. If you didn't know any better, you'd say that there was a hint of desire in it.

No, don't go there. He's just messing with you

He leans forward and takes the wrap from your hands. His eyes linger on your for just a moment linger than necessary. You can feel a flush creeping up your cheeks. You quickly settle back in your chair and clear your throat.

"It's spicy." You blurt out. Rooster looks at you confused. "The wrap. It's spicy. It's buffalo chicken. Sorry, I should have told you that before." You shake your head.

"No worries. I love spicy things. The hotter, the better." You winks at you. He honest to gods winks at you.

Is he flirting with you right now?

You open your mouth for a witty comeback, but you can't think of one. You're too focused on watching him take a generous bite of the lunch you've offered him. You transfixed as he lets out an appreciative groan.

"'Holy shit, this is fantastic. You make this yourself?" Rooster asks you after he swallowed another bite.

"Yeah, I love cooking." You spit out. His happy little sounds he makes when he his eating has you flustered for the first time in a very long time.

You haven't felt like this since you were a young God, lying in a wildflower field, your head in Persephone's lap as she braided poppies in your hair and hummed under her breath. It makes your heart ache that he's so much like her.

For a fleeting moment, you wonder if she knows about Bradley. You wonder if she sits on her flower throne and looks down upon you to see what you're up to. You wonder if she misses you.

But then you think better of it. She has no reason to miss you. Not after—

She doesn't miss you

No one does

"Hades, you ready to go?" Bradley asks as he pulls you from your thoughts.

"What?" You ask him, not sure what he just said.

"Our hop is in forty-five minutes. We might want to suit up." Bradley tells you.

"Oh, yeah." I'll meet you in the hanger." You say before quickly gathering your things.

"Thanks again for lunch!" Bradley calls behind you as you bolt for the locker room. Thankfully, it's empty when you go in there. You shove your belongings away before dashing over to a sink and splashing some cold water on your face. It sizzles and turns to steam in an instant.

"Stop it!" You yell at your reflection in the mirror. "Stop letting a silly mortal throw you off." You say to yourself. "Feelings are for the weak. Love and desire will only hold you back or hurt you." You say before shaking your head. You splash some more cold water on your cheeks. As much as you want to give into the desire that is sparking, you know it's a bad idea. You gave in once, and look where that got you.

But you like the way he makes you feel

You like that he isn't afraid of you

You roll your shoulders back and compose yourself before heading out of the locker room. Your sleek black helmet with neon blue flames and letters bearing your call sign is tucked up under your arm.

Rooster is chatting with Maverick inside the open hanger when you meet up with them.

"You ready for this test run? You and Rooster will be working together to try and take me down." Maverick says.

"I've been told no one has been able to take you out, sir. I hope you're ready for that winning streak to come to an end." You tell Maverick with a serious look. He laughs at your enthusiasm.

Before the three of you head to your planes, you quickly blink three times to make their lifetime counters appear.

Maverick's is unchanged from the last time you saw him, but your heart drops when you look at Bradley's. The nearly fifty years he had this morning had now been replaced with a little over an hour. That meant something was going to happen during your hop.

No. You couldn't let that happen

"Wait!" You screech. Both men turn to look at you. "I haven't done my preflight check. Have you?" You ask them.

"'Lieutenant Myers, from mantanince gave them a once over for us during our lunch. We should be fine." Maverick assures you.

"Still, I think we should go over them again just to be safe." You try to persuade them as you watch Bradley's timer dwindle.

"Hades, Lieutenant Myers knows what he's doing." Rooster tries to convince you.

"I—I just have a gut feeling. Call me crazy. I'll make you a deal. We do a deep check on the aircrafts. If everything is fine, drinks are on me tonight at the Hard Deck. If something is off, we can prevent anything bad from happening." You say.

"Fine. I guess double checking couldn't hurt." Maverick reluctantly agrees.

The three of you spend the next half hour going over your jets. Well—you pretend to be. You're more focused on Rooster's time clock. It still hadn't gone back up. If it didn't before the flight, you'd have to be extra vigilant during the hop to make sure nothing happens to him.

You're checking some gears when you hear Bradley call out. "Oh shit. That's not fucking good."

You and Maverick both cone around to see what he's talking about. You don't really care what it is. You're more concerned with his clock. You turn the corner of your plane and see that his timer has gone back up. You breathe a sigh of relief.

"What's wrong?" You ask him.

"The fuel line is loose. If I had taken this in the air, it probably would have detached, and I would have been screwed. Mav, you need to talk to Lieutenant Myers and make sure he knows what he's doing." Bradley says as he stands there with his hands on his hips.

"Well, Rooster, you're definitely grounded for the rest of the day. It looks like we will have to reschedule the software test because it's a three pilot job." Maverick sighed.

"Damn, I was really looking forward to Hades and I kicking your ass old man." Rooster laughs.

"Well, we still have the range for the rest of the afternoon. Are you two up for something fun?" Maverick says in a low voice with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Define 'fun'." You say as you turn to him. "I was thinking a little ace versus ace action Hades. You and me, first one to get missile lock on the other wins. I've seen you fly. I know you're good, kid. But I want to know if you can beat the best." Maverick smirks at you.

"What's the wager?" You ask him.

"200 push-ups and bragging rights?" Maverick propositions you.

"500, bragging rights, and a joyride in your P-51 I've heard so much about." You counter.

"Deal." You and Maverick shake hands.

"What about me?" Rooster throws up his hands before putting him on his hips and staring the two of you down.

You pause for a moment and look around the hanger before your eyes land on Phoenix and Bob's plane. A devilish grin spreads across your face.

"Rooster, have you ever been a back seater?" You ask him with a Cheshire smile.

"Oh no, Hades, I don't like that look." He shakes his head, knowing exactly what you're thinking.

"Too bad, it's the only one I've got." You shrug before taking off towards the two seater aircraft. Bradley follows hot on your heels.

You climb into the cockpit, and both of you go over your preflight checks. "Hades, you know I'm fucking clueless back her right? My dad was a RIO, and I did not inherit his skill set." Rooster tells you as he fits his oxygen mask to his face.

"Don't worry, Roo. Just buckle up and enjoy the ride." You tell him as you head down the runway.

Wait. Are you flirting with him?

Moments later, the two of you are airborne and on the hunt for Maverick. "As far as I can tell, nothing on radar, and I don't see him." Rooster reports as he scans the sky. You acknowledge him as you do the same.

"Come on, Maverick, where are you?" You mumble. You think back to your training. If he's not on radar, he's either too far away or directly under your or above you. You doubt he is above you, so your best guess is he is flying under you just out of sight.

Trusting your guy, you climb higher. "Holy shit. Hades, what are you doing?" Rooster asks you, startled by your sudden movements.

"Trust me," you say. Once you're high enough, you invernt and, bingo. Just like you thought, Maverick is below you.

"Hang on, Rooster. I've got him, " you say before dropping down straight for Maverick.

The glare of the sun helps hide you, but Maverick is smart and sees you coming. You drop in behind him.

Rooster is shouting directions at you trying to help. He's known Maverick longer and knows his tricks.

Soon, the two of you are locked in a battle of wits. Maverick can't shake you, but you can't get a lock on him.

"I need to get him to a higher altitude. Any ideas?" You ask Rooster. "One, but you aren't going to like it." Bradley chuckles before telling you his plan. He was right, you didn't like it, you loved it.

You rose and hovered over Maverick, inverting and keeping pace with him before forcing him into a climbing cobra spiral. The two jets danced across the sky, higher and higher.

"Alright, Hades, you put us here. What's your plan?" Maverick asks as he matches you, turn for turn.

"A magician never reveals all her secrets." You tell him as you narrow your eyes.

"Now, Rooster?" You ask Bradley for confirmation.

"Now!" He confirms. One his signal, you let up of the thrust and break out of the spiral before dropping into the pocket behind Maverick. He wasn't expecting the sudden change, and it throws him off. Maverick quickly corrects himself and attempts to evade you, but it's no use. You have him right where you want him. For the first time in a year, Maverick hears the missile lock tones ring out in his head set.

"Holy shit! You got him!" Rooster cheers as he celebrates in his seat.

You wish you could turn around and see what he looks like right now. You're sure a bright smile is spread across his face just under his oxygen mask. You bring the plane in for a landing as he continues to cheer. His joyfulness is infectious.

Just like hers was.

When your boots hit the tarmac after landing, you're prepared to head to the locker room. You're making Maverick save his push-ups for Monday so everyone can watch. Rooster is itching to get to the Hard Deck to tell everyone about today, and he's eager to see you outside of your uniform.

What you weren't prepared for, however, was for Rooster to wrap his arms around you in a crushing bear hug and for him to spin you around while praising you.

You face smooshes into his chest, and you inhale his scent. He smells like jet fuel, sunshine, and poppy.

You want to fight the hug, but at the same time, you want to lean into it.

He's so warm

Something about him feels—safe

When his brain finally catches up with him, he quickly puts you down before taking a step back and looking down.

"Sorry, I—I shouldn't have done that." He apologized, scratching the back of his neck.

Do it again

"'It's fine. You were excited. No sweat." You brush him off. He sighs out an agreement, and you see the flash of hurt across his eyes.

"You were really something up there, Hades." Bradley remarks as the two of you walk towards the locker rooms.

"But, I gotta know. How did you know something was wrong with my plane?" Rooster asked you. "I just had a gut feeling. Something felt off." You shrug.

"You basically saved my life. If I'd gone up with that leaking fuel line, who knows what could have happened." Bradley said.

You know what would have happened.

"Maybe we should start calling you Angel instead of Hades." Bradley chuckles. "Seeing how you were watching out for me, it fits." You pause and stare at him.

"You know, because Hades is the God of death, but you were like a guardian angel looking out for me today." He tries to explain to you.

"Trust me, Roo. I'm no angel." You say with a hint of sadness in your voice.

"Too late." Bradley fires back. "I've already decided, that's your new nickname. Now, I will see you at the Hard Deck so we can rub it in Jake's face that you were the first one to take down Mav—Angel." Bradley smirks at you before disappearing into the men's locker room.

You shake your head

If only he knew

You quickly shower and change. You knew you were going out with the team tonight, so you remember to pack something nice to wear. You slip into a black body body suit that has a tasteful amount of cleavage that is accentuated by the lace of the bralette you have on underneath it.

A dark pair of ripped jeans and black ankle boots complete the look. You tie a flannel shirt around your waist just in case it gets chilly this evening.

You pull half of your hair up away from your face before applying some very out of regs make-up. Just because you were going there to keep up appearances didn't mean you had to look like a slob when doing it.

There was something about fashion that made you feel powerful. And if Bradley just so happened to like it and give you a little extra attention, what was the harm in that?

"And Aphroditie thinks she's the pretty one." You chuckle to yourself after you swipe your final coat of lipstick on.

.............

Jake let's out a low wolf-whistle the second he sees you approaching the corner pool table that the Daggers take up residence at every time they are at the Hard Deck.

"What do we have here? If it ain't Hades." He calls out as you approach them. "And here I thought I we were the good-looking ones, Coyote." Jake chuckles as he approaches you. You roll your eyes and grab the pool stick out of his hand.

He goes to protest, but you don't pay him any attention. You line up a shot and look up just in time to lock eyes with Rooster. You hold eye contact with him and give him a crimson smile as the ball drops into the pocket.

"Eat your heart out, Bagman." Jake stands there looking at you bewildered with some shot glasses in his hand. You take one and down the liquid before handing it back to him. "While you're doing that, I think we all could use another round. Why don't you be a dear and grab it for us. "You wink at him as you make your way around the table to Rooster.

"You sure know how to make an entrance." Bradley says as you walk up to him. You don't miss the way his eyes linger on you as he takes in your form. "You look—good." He tells you.

"Maybe if you wore something besides Hawaiian shirts and shaved that dorky mustache, you'd look good too." You tease him. A wide smile spreads over his face.

"You are something else, Angel." He laughs.

"What did I say about calling me that?" You say, putting your hands on your hips.

"And I already told you, I didn't care. What are you going to do? Pull rank on me again to get me to stop?" He states as his voice drops and octave.

You stand up on your tiptoes and whisper in his ear, "You'd like that, wouldn't you, Lieutenant Commander?" A teasing smirk tugs at the corner of your lips when you settle back down.

Okay, you were definitely flirting

Rooster cocks his head to the side before settling a hand on your hip and drawing you closer to him. You let out as surprised gasp as you feel the hairs of his mustache prickle against your ear. "Maybe I would. What are you going to do about it?" He breathes out before walking away like nothing happened.

It takes you a minute to reset your brain. You can't believe he just did that.

Oh Gods

You were fucked

...............

Later that night, you stroll down the hallway to your apartment. You fiddle with your key and unlock the door.

"Cerby, Hydra, I'm home!" You call out to your pets. Normally, your dog and cat both rush to greet you at the door, but tonight they don't.

You flick on the hall light and kick off your shoes before calling out to them. They still don't come. Your apartment is quiet—too quiet. You stay still and listen.

You run your right hand over your left forearm and pull out the dagger for your rose and dagger tattoo. The ink materializes into heavy iron and steel in your hand. You hear a commotion in the kitchen.

You stalk silently towards the room, ready to attack whoever is there. You take a deep breath before popping around the corner.

But once you do, you stop in your tracks.

"Minthe?" You ask as you see her standing in your kitchen with Cerby and Hydra.

"Hades, love, I'm so glad you're home! Why don't you take a seat. We need to talk.

Taglist: @thedroneranger @roosterscock @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @cassiemitchell @na-ta-sh-aa @milestellerlover @katieshook02 @mak-32 @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @sometimesanalice @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @sunlightmurdock @withahappyrefrain @lt-spork @multifandomlover4life @lewmagoo @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @roosterisdaddy36 @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @asshlyyyy @inkandarsenic

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anonymous-dentist · 6 months

Note

the thing that has been pissing me off the most in those whole qjaiden/fear room situation is the hypocrisy, really (and not talking about the charater hypocrisy even if she was actually being kinda of hypocritical)

i'm talking about the hypocrisy of the vast majority of the fans lmao like when qforever came up and invaded bobby fields everyone went for his ass (rightfully so) but when it's her doing something similar it's ok and she's just being silly! bc apparently it's just her who can have a secret safe spot and have her feelings hurt ig

it's a very curious phenomenon in this fandom that i think it came from it having different povs and each being in a different language probably, but it really seems to me that to some people the only characters that have the right to be defended, and do something wrong and all of that is the ones they keep up with. otherwise, then they can be execrated and all of that

It's because the only characters allowed to be criticized are the Brazilian characters tbh, the English fandom gets really pissy when you criticize their favs, the French fandom is too busy criticizing itself half the time to pay attention to the others, and the poor Hispanic fandom is down to two active povs to pay attention to. But, if you've paid attention over the last several months, it's always the Brazilian characters getting shit for things the other characters have also done.

It's like you said with qForever and qJaiden's parallels here, but there's another parallel between them that people went crazy over last month with the Happy Pills arc when qForever made that fake house for Richarlystone and qJaiden fans went "Good, it's what he deserves", and like. No? Nobody said that qJaiden "deserved" to lose herself briefly in her grief and build Bobby Fields, but qForever "deserved" to be forcibly drugged by Cucurucho and deluded into building a house just like Bobby Fields to memorialize his son as best as his fuzzy mind could.

And then there's everybody always giving qCellbit shit for him infiltrating the Federation and pretending to be Normal about it while actively encouraging qFoolish's very similar arc, because qCellbit is apparently the evil one here because he isn't telling other people, even though he has been telling people it's a literal infiltration mission for months now.

qForever starting to sort of get along with Cucurucho? It means he's been corrupted by the Feds and he's evil and should be kicked out of office. qJaiden being actual best friends with Cucurucho? She's just being silly!

qBad being right for getting upset over characters getting into his closed-off areas of his base versus the English fandom getting very angry at Brazilian fans getting annoyed over qJaiden breaking into a very very very closed-off area of qCellbit's base.

qFoolish was just silly when he arrested qPac and qMike, but I can guarantee that if it was qMike arresting qFoolish or something that he'd be given so much shit for "false imprisonment" or something. Because that's just how this fandom works.

This issue used to actually apply to the Hispanic characters, too, because I remember the English fandom getting furious when qVegetta set up turrets specifically because qBad kept breaking into his house back in early April, because that was unfair!! qSpreen challenged qBad to a fight and, if he won, he was going to be allowed to take one of Dapper's lives was evil and irredeemable, but qSlime running around for several hours trying to murder every single egg on the server was just him being silly. qMariana being called a murderer for legitimately accidentally misclicking poor Flippa versus qSlime killing Tilin being called an accident (which it was, to be clear.)

I can guarantee that qRoier would have gotten So Much Shit from the English fandom back in April if they actually watched his pov and realized that he was the one that started spreading rumors about qQuackity trying to kill the eggs and effectively rigging the Strip Club Interrogation to make qQuackity look more evil than he actually was and basically singlehandedly causing poor qQuackity's downfall just as he swore to in early April that the English fans would have been furious. But, because he doesn't interact too often with the English members outside of Foolish and Jaiden, he's labeled Just A Silly Guy and he's promptly ignored, which is probably for the better tbh considering how they treat the other Latin American characters.

TLDR; the English characters are the only ones not allowed to be criticized while the Latin American characters are always the ones criticized, especially the Brazilians, and it's super fucking weird considering this is a global server and everything

#asks!#anon!#discourse ig #just something i've noticed #because i've been here since literally stream one

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qiutls · 10 months

Text

TNGDH 013

"It's obesity, Your Highness."

'What?'

"What?" Oh, I thought I was finally able to talk, but it was Kyle's voice.

The doctor who noticed the anger in the Grand Duke's voice trembled slightly.

"W-well, that, Your Highness' pet hamster, ah- I mean magical beast has no appetite and is inactive, so I thought that m-maybe..."

It was a breathtaking honorific, I'm the only one in this world to be treated this way, by the one and only veterinarian here.

Indeed, since this hamster is cherished by the Grand Duke, one can't carelessly say brash words like 'this rat' in front of His Highness, for fear of losing their voice.

It's absurd, but what can I do? They must be aggrieved to be born into a world where their status is less than a different species.

"It is a little difficult to determine if it has a disease because no trauma nor abnormal symptoms have been found. There was also no pain when I pressed its stomach. It's just when I pressed it carefully-"

"When you pressed it?"

Kyle urged him to speak with a serious look. The veterinarian shivered and continued as if he had been threatened with murder.

"..... It was j-just belly fat!"

I must've gained weight.

I slumped back down and looked at the two humans who were staring at me alternately. Why? What are you looking at? Is this your first time seeing a fat hamster? It's probably your first time, look at you two, you practically can't take your eyes off of me.

Of course, I knew why I gained weight. I ate too much during the morning. The food here in the North is pretty good, no scratch that, human food is just delicious compared to dried pollack. It's worth living as a human even if I was fed rice paste every day.

[ (^(00)^) ]

'... Did I eat that much?'

This morning Sen introduced me to the work at the kitchen. The servants were supposed to make fried sandwiches to distribute them to the refugees, but they were afraid of splashing oil, so I decided to help them out.

Who am I? I'm none other than the self-righteous man who worked at a fast-food franchise in Gangnam for four years, to earn tuition for college.

My amazing frying skills can fry any dish, you name it!

While frying, I took a bite of a sandwich to avoid the eyes of the people staring at me. Then I also took a bite of twisted breadstick, another bite of a sandwich, another bite of breadstick. One bite of donut, a bite of fried meat..... I had 10 bites. How many times did I repeat those 10 bites again?

Anyway, I ate my fill for 30 minutes. Kyle doesn't even give me fried eggs that hamsters can eat, why should I miss out on my only chance to eat high calorie foods.

I felt like a resident employee doing "bad things" prohibited to the newcomers, it felt good. Thanks to this skill, I have a chance to eat rice balls again. As expected, even if you roll in dog poop field, living is still better than dying, well living as a human, I mean.

When I left the kitchen patting my stomach, I heard the servants say how the food that came out of the kitchen seemed to be less than they thought. Ah! I don't care, I put an iron plate on my face and said I don't know why that happened. It seems like it was so cold in the North, that my face thickened.

Well, that's basically a summary of what happened in the morning.

"But Cashew Nut hasn't eaten since this morning!"

Kyle said panicking.

Of course, I didn't. If you were me and you just ate a box of fried food, would you still be blinded to eat nuts all day? You eat it.

But this morning, I didn't just stuff my stomach, okay? In order to prevent the chandelier incident, I tried to tell some servants and attendants to inspect the central chandelier at the banquet hall.

The problem was that my identity was ambiguous, and although my words were convincing, why would they believe someone who's unfamiliar and kept bothering them to check the chandelier.

The last servant I talked to just gave me a basket full of bread and said, "Don't insult the castle that is providing for you, just fry the food properly, so you don't get in trouble."

Anyway, after eating so much in the morning, Kyle was probably worried seeing me sleep all throughout the day and just waking up in the afternoon. So, he explained to the doctor, how I had no appetite and no energy.

"Look again, are you sure you didn't miss anything when checking its stomach?"

The veterinarian touched my stomach again out of courtesy and pressed down, his voice shook as he said.

"It's really just fat..."

Silence filled the room.

All right, take your hands off of me, you're trembling so much you even shook my whole body.

"I see..."

Kyle spoke in an unconvinced tone. I slipped away from the doctor's palm and went to hug his (Kyle's) elbow.

Take it easy, okay? If the vet said I gained weight, then I gained it. Will a hamster die just because he's fat? I'll even eat a nut or two during dinner, alright?

Kyle stroked by back with his fingertips perhaps because my silent consolation was too strong.

"..... How can you be obese when you're so cute."

Ah, this is shocking. It seems like there's no logic left in the North.

The vet seemed to think the same thing as I did, but he just kept quiet and bowed his head. That's right, there's only one life and we should cherish it.

"It seems like you need more care from now on."

"Yes, Your Highness, periodic care is very important. You should let it exercise as much as possible and avoid giving it a fatty diet. It would be helpful to feed it boiled vegetables. And don't worry too much, isn't the magical beast, still in its growing period?"

I'm sorry to say this, but my growth period ended 10 years ago...

"Probably after the growth period, the problem will be solved little by little as the body grows. So don't worry too much, Your Highness."

"Alright."

"Are bodies of magical beasts usually this big?"

"No, it's larger."

"Then, Your Highness, you may need to change things like the wheel, the size of the room, maybe even the house itself."

Kyle replied without hesitation.

"I can change it a hundred times if needed."

It's a tearful love for a hamster. Why are you spending so much money and love on me.

"By the way, you said periodic care."

Kyle pondered for a moment and said,

"I think your skills are good, and since this magical beast will continue to grow, why don't you settle here in the North."

"Here, in the North..."

The veterinarian seemed to have doubted his ears.

It's normal, of course. From the moment he checked on me, Kyle has worn a serious look, he probably can't understand why Kyle wants him to stay.

But maybe it's not a bad suggestion seeing as his face is slightly flushed. Is this guy in the original novel?

[ Veterinarian. Approximately 15 days until the estimated time fo death. ]

Death again?

'Tell me how he's supposed to die.'

[ Belial's mother, the current empress, Serena Minehardt's old cat fell ill, and this veterinarian wasn't able to treat it, so he was executed immediately after the cat's death. ]

This reason... Is too absurd...

Is a veterinarian a god?

Isn't it common for pets to die of old age? You're killing a man because he couldn't make your cat immortal? She's an empress with no brain ah.

It seems like he used to work in the palace and realized the cat's situation and ran here to the North by joining the procession in disguise of taking care of horses.

If he had a reason to settle down in the North, it would be a great opportunity to save his life. While Kyle was busy paying, the vet's face was turning brighter and brighter.

"Don't worry about money, I'll pay you for treating him."

Money doesn't matter! Promise him you won't kill him even if this hamster dies, you tactless creature!

"Is there anything else you want? I'll negotiate with His Majesty (Belial) if you still have any concerns."

The veterinarian seemed to wonder whether it's better to stay with the royal family or here. Although they seemed like they would both do the same thing, an obese hamster's life expectancy seems to be longer than an old cat's.

"No! I'm honored to stay and be at your service, Your Highness."

There you go!

I went to the edge of Kyle's hand and patted the doctor's arm as a compliment. You made the right decision. This is the way to lengthen your life.

[ The person who was fated to die is no longer in danger. ]

[ Miracle value has risen! ]

[ Current miracle value is 11.0% ]

Wow, it went up 3% in an instant. Saving people's live is indeed the right way.

My eyes brightened at the realization, if saving a no name character gives 3%, then how much more would I get if I save Kyle!

Add a zero next to the 3 next time, System. Write it big when the time comes.

[ The duration of "Summon" has been increased to 1 hour. ]

The skill which originally lasted for 30 minutes only has been increased twice. It's probably due to the miracle value exceeding 10%.

Alright! I'll get up earlier and eat 30 more fried- ah..... No let's stop eating that. At this rate, I might really forget how to walk.

The hamster's body was too honest. You gain as much weight as you eat. It's fortunate that my human body still stays the same.

"Cashew Nut."

After extending his life expectancy, the vet now has a bright face. However, Kyle still looked gloomy, as if he heard my life was ending soon.

Hey, you punk. It's you who has a month to live, you shouldn't be worrying about me. Technically, I- I'm already dead. I already died so.

..... I need to raise the miracle value, so that both you and I could survive. I have no choice but to trust the system.

"Cashew Nut, you must have heard what the doctor said earlier right?"

Usually, hamsters don't understand people, Your Highness.

"Occasional exercise can lengthen your lifespan."

Kyle put me back in the house and said solemnly.

Ahhh, I don't know. I don't understand. What exercise? I already ran a thousand laps on the wheel, I think that's enough exercise for my whole life. If you want to exercise so bad, do it yourself!

"Hurry up, don't you like this?"

He put the wheel in front of me and began spinning it with his finger while looking at me anxiously. The wheel turned like a Ferris wheel, and it improved my mood. Oh, he's actually good at acting cute, turn it around more!

"Cashew Nut, please."

― Eek! [ Don't wanna! ]

"Just one turn, okay?"

― Squeak! [ You do it yourself! ]

It's annoying, I don't want to exercise. After you sigh, everything you eat is already digested. Didn't you think I'm cute as a chubby hamster? Just accept it!

'By the way, what should I do with Belial.'

Ever since that day they almost fought, Belial hasn't visited the study once.

It's not hard to find out which room he's staying, but I can't get in as a servant. It's no use even if "Summon" lasted for ten hours instead of an hour.

'..... How to prevent the chandelier falling during the banquet.'

Ah, how am I supposed to do this.

I can already feel a headache coming. Mr. System, isn't this too difficult for a hamster to accomplish. Please change the difficulty to beginner mode!

[ _(:3」∠)_ ]

You're just lying down? Fine I'll just lie down as well.

I fell asleep drowsily after watching Kyle acting cute for a long time.

T/N: I'm sorry if the quality of the translation this time is a bit lacking, I'm currently sick, but since I already started translating this chapter, I thought I should just finish it before I let myself rest. Once again tysm to everyone who donated, it is much appreciated!!! novel ⠀✿⠀ next

#tngdh

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thewrothode-if · 6 months

Note

Just so you know your page is giving racist. Not only are you proud of how little research you have done but you also have decided that no black people existed in the Scandinavia... I understand that Google is hard but putting in academic journals or looking at peer reviewed articles could really help you. Ps I'm not doing the leg work for you. I hate when people need to be spoon fed so they aren't racist. White supremacy is on the rise and many fascists have used "viking culture" as a blanket to hide under. Many well read readers will be majorly turned off by how... let's just say indelicately you are handling this. I'm hoping that you are just young. I saw your wip and enjoyed it but will unfortunately be dropping this due to your followers and your own take on race. I hope you learn from this. Don't let your followers make you complacent, you have been racist. Not allowing diverse skin tone, racist. Not capable of doing any research on the topic knowing damn well that many people of African descent were all over Europe in general. Literally Icelandic and Nordic peoples travelled all the way to North America but pop off with your dog whistles. This was overall extremely disappointing hope you get better or hope you stop writing either would be great 👍

I’m so sad that I have to address this once more but here I go.

“Literally Icelandic and Nordic peoples travelled all the way to North America but pop off with your dog whistles.”

First things first, this tells me that you didn’t quite read through all that I have written on race on my blog because I did talk about that right here.

I’ll add it down here as well:

“It is interesting to note that Vikings found their way to North Africa (more specifically Morocco) at some point because they really were such vast travelers. So it was more so the Vikings coming to Africa rather than the other way around.”

2. “…you also have decided that no black people existed in the Scandinavia..”

No, I did not decide that no black people existed in Scandinavia. Maybe the way I talked about people of color being in Scandinavia made it seem like that, especially here when I said, “so it was more so the Vikings coming to Africa rather than the other way around.” But that doesn’t translate to, “there were absolutely no black people in Scandinavia.”

3. “Not allowing diverse skin tone, racist.”

Not allowing diverse skin tone is not racist, especially for this IF because as I said, you are playing as a Viking in Denmark. You are not a Viking from China or South Africa or Brazil or Italy, but Denmark.

I want to write a story where the main character is a white viking. I don’t see why that is a big problem. As many people have told me, A Tale of Crown has a lack of white skin tone options because the story is based in the Middle East. That is not a problem and what I’m doing here shouldn’t be a problem either.

4. “Ps I'm not doing the leg work for you.”

Then if you won’t do the leg work and I won’t do the leg work, why are we both fighting about something we have no clue over? I think that if you are going to start an argument about this, maybe you should research a little more so you can factually tell me why I’m wrong instead of just saying I’m racist.

5. “… hope you get better or hope you stop writing either would be great.”

I won’t stop writing, but I will probably take a small little break to calm down so I don’t let this affect me too much.

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probably-writing-x · 1 year

Text

Summer Heat - Chapter One

Summary: Rafe had met his match when he met you. Both completely opposite and all too similar - the Kook and the Pogue who worked for his father; the hot headed boy and the girl who never backed down. And as summer rolls around on the island, tensions run high amongst the hottest enemies that OBX has ever seen.

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Cursing, some (ish) sexual references, mentions of losing a parent

Author's Note: Omgggg I’m so excited to start this series !! I already have sooo many ideas for it. Please let me know what you think of the first chapter I want to hear alll of your opinions !! Much much much love to all of you, angels x

Rafe had grown up getting everything he wanted. As much as he was reluctant to admit it at times, he knew he had always been fed from the silver spoon. He could have half of the island wrapped around his little finger if he really wanted to. Everybody knew it. From his friends that were more like followers, to his girls that were more like groupies, to his family that were more like business partners. All of it was more and more a part of the personality that made the infamous Rafe Cameron.

You, having grown up in The Cut, were one of the many people that worked for him and his family. You'd taken the job working on the boat, you and John B both working together. It was mundane but it covered your share of the bills and kept your older sister off of your back. Since your father had passed away a few years ago, it was really just you and her left. That's how you'd become such good friends with John B - you'd been through the same shitty few years on the shitty side of the island you called home. And there was something comforting about going through it with someone that knew how it all felt. Working together was just another part of that - a way to make a crap life a little less bad.

Though, it was safe to say dealing with Rafe's input was one of the worst parts of your job - he was always on your case about every part of the work. He would pick you up on the slightest things, tell his father if you were even a few minutes late, made sure to give you enough jobs to last the day. It hadn't taken you long to start arguing back with him, defending yourself when he expected you to stay silent. And, though people might think he was the most hot headed a person could get, it seemed he had met his match in you.

"Oi!" John B shouts from the other side of the deck, "Are you going to help or what?"

You roll your eyes at him and stand up from where you'd been enjoying the sun from the deck. It was a scorching day on the island, the sun beating down relentlessly - even worse on the dock of the yacht that seemed to be allergic to any type of shade;

"Ward's not meant to be home for another hour, which means we have at least half an hour before we even need to start."

"Right, but if you grow up and do it now, we can slack off later," He points out, wiping the sweat from his brow.

The two of you were like siblings to each other - him the mature and logical one that liked to keep the peace, and you the unhinged argumentative one that seemed set on disturbing the peace.

"Touché," You walk over to where he's stood over the pile of used scuba gear, a hose in one hand to start cleaning it all with freshwater.

You pick up the other hose and spray it a couple of times to test it out. Watching it splash down the deck and trail towards the drainage, not paying attention to it bounce off in the other direction to spray over John B.

"Do you mind?" He raises his eyebrows at you, shaking off the water from his arm.

"I'm sorry I almost drowned you," You roll your eyes at him, spraying the hose another time in his direction.

"Really? You want to start that?" John B laughs, dropping the buoyancy jacket from his hands to turn his attention to you.

He sprays in your direction and it splashes down the front of your crop top, forcing a squeal from your lips.

"Oh you are dead!" You return, splashing him back so that it soaks his hair down to his head.

He goes at you again and soaks your outfit completely, water dripping down your shoulders and down your arms.

John B laughs and shakes his hair out, raising his hands in defeat, "Okay okay stop, I'm done."

He pulls a hand over his face and your hands down either side of your hair to slick it away from your face, welcoming the cool it brings you against the blazing heat.

"Good to see we pay you for some quality work here!" An all too infamous voice calls out from the other end of the boat.

You look up to see Rafe coming towards you, his skin sun-kissed in the heat. He crosses over the ramp from the wooden dock and onto the deck, long strides drawing him closer to you. There's a white linen shirt hanging on either side of his torso, exposing the dips of his abs and the way they seem more prominent with his tan. No. Ignore it. This is Rafe, it didn't matter what body came with that.

"We?" You scoff, "I'm not so sure you're responsible in the slightest for paying us. But go ahead, run along and tell Daddy if you need to."

He clenches his jaw but doesn't say anything for just a second, "I could get you fired with a click of my fingers, so watch your tone."

John B looks at you with warning in his eyes when he can tell you're on the verge of snapping back at Rafe. You struggled to hide your feelings at the best of times, but it seemed all the more impossible when it came to this boy.

You'd known of him when you were little, the two of you meeting when your father used to work the restaurant at the club. As a little boy, Rafe was a lot more tolerable than he was now - though you were sure that he didn't remember you. Your first memory of him was when you were sat waiting for your Dad's shift to end, you no older than six. You'd fallen and cut your knee and Rafe had found you, much taller than you even when he was a kid, and he'd stolen an ice cream from the buffet bar to give to you. He'd told you to stop crying because his Dad had told him that big kids didn't cry, but he knew from his sister Sarah that ice cream could cure a lot of things. He looked at your knee, the blood spilling down your leg, and he held a napkin over it whilst you ate the ice-cream he'd given you. When your Dad came to find you, he'd pulled you away and told you to not hang around with those 'Kook Kids' again. You'd looked over your shoulder as you left and watched as Rafe was getting told off by his own father, likely for disappearing, or perhaps for thieving from the buffet. He'd looked at you with a sadness in his eyes that didn't seem to dispel.

That same sadness, though mixed with a few other things, still seemed to remain all these years later.

"You can both leave, I've got some business to take care of," Rafe states simply, "Finish this up tomorrow."

John B grabs his hat and his bag from the side and nods, "You got it," He disappears around the side of the deck, glancing back at you with that sort of look in his eyes that tells you get the fuck out of there while you've got the chance.

"You know you shouldn't leave this stuff without cleaning it," You point out, "The salt can damage your gear. That's why we have to clean it."

"Then we can buy new stuff," His words are a cold contrast against the blistering summer heat.

You roll your eyes, certain in that moment that you and Rafe could not be any more different if you tried, "Easy life isn't it, Rafe Cameron?"

"Easier if you weren't here."

You're silent, a strange tension between the two of you that never seemed to disperse.

"Your top is dripping over the deck," He comments matter-of-factly.

He seems to look at you with a darkness in his eyes, though different from the way he seemed when he was angry. It wasn't an anger when he was with you - it was more like fury, a burning inside of him that seemed to echo in the tension in his muscles.

You cock a brow at him and lift one of your arms to pull your crop top over your head, quickly and in one motion, exposing the thin cover of the bikini top you wore underneath, "Yeah, you're right, wouldn't want water on the boat would we?"

"Was that necessary?" He cocks a brow at you, his eyes drifting south towards your chest, the way the droplets of water curled around the curves of your breasts.

"Keep your dick in your pants, Cameron."

~~~

"You know your life would be a hell of a lot easier if you didn't argue with him all the time," John B points out, sat on the dock next to the Chalet, his legs dangling over the edge, a beer can in his hands

"And what's the fun in that?" You tilt your head up from where you lay sprawled out over the wooden surface, one hand coming up to your face to block your eyes from the sun.

"The woman raises a good point," JJ comments, matching your pose as he was sprawled out over the small space of their boat.

"Plus," You lean up onto your elbows, "He thinks he can walk all over us just because his father's got money, I'm sick of it."

"His father having money is the reason that we can get a bit too," John B points out, standing up and going over to the cooler of beers that was already dwindling in supplies, "So please keep your mouth shut so that I can keep my job."

You push yourself up to stand and step through the barrier of the dock to stand on the side of the water, your hands reaching behind your back to hold the fence and steady yourself, "I can't make any promises."

You stretch your arms above your head and dive into the water, kicking below the surface to submerge yourself in the relief of the cold water. When you break the surface, you turn around to see the boys watching you from the deck.

JJ smirks at you, nudging John B knowingly before he says, "Damn, that was hot."

~~~

You're back at the Cameron's house the following day, pulling up in front of the mansion in your beat up car that seemed a stark contrast to the world around you. The car had belonged to your father, and had been passed down to you when your sister refused to drive it. It was littered with scratches and had a dent on one side, and the passenger side window didn't ever close, and it only took cassette tapes despite this being the 21st Century.

As you pull up today, Rafe is parked in front of your spot. The hood of his car is open and he's bent over, studying the inner workings like it were a foreign language. When he hears your door slam, a little too abruptly, he is quick to comment.

"You're late."

"Did you miss me that much?" You cock a brow, walking around the side of his car so you can see under the hood too, "What's wrong with this?"

He looks up at you for a second, his eyes squinting a little against the smoke that was just starting to bellow up from the vehicle, "I don't-" He stops himself, "It's fine, just go to the boat."

You look over, walking around to the front of the car so that you stood next to him, your shoulder bumping his arm as you tap at the source of his problem, "Your fuel cap is busted, radiator cap should solve it."

Rafe pulls away from the car to stand up straight, like a reminder of just how much he towered over you, "Are you kidding?"

"I probably have a spare in my trunk," You comment, standing up too so that you can face him, the tips of your shoes almost brushing with his.

"I don't need your help, (Y/N)."

You smirk and make sure your eyes are in direct contact with his as you state, "Oh, don't worry, I wasn't offering."

With that, you turn on your heel and make your way towards the house, diverting towards the gate that would lead you down towards the dock. You couldn't quite make out the feeling in your chest - a little bit of pride at your tiny victory, and a little bit of the typical quickening of your heart beat that only Rafe seemed to be able to cause.

~~~

Rafe gives up on his car not long after, storming back into the house as if the anger was practically radiating off of him.

“I need Dad’s keys, have you seen them?” He calls over to Sarah, who’s laying across one of the couches with a book in one hand, the other arm tucked under her head.

“Why would I know where they are?” She retorts, setting her book down and stretching her arms back above her head.

“Can you help me look for them?” Rafe snaps, “I’ve got somewhere to be and my car’s busted.”

“Find them yourself,” She scoffs, “Or get John B or (Y/N) to help you with your car.”

Rafe stops his search for the keys and looks at her flatly, “Are you kidding?”

“Why do you hate them so much?” His sister shakes her head, “They’re not that bad and you act like (Y/N) is the worst person on the planet.”

“She’s not-“

As if on cue, you walk through from the garden, sliding open one of the large glass panel doors. There were beads of sweat around your neck from being in the sun, the material of your halter neck top rising a little over your torso. Rafe finds himself trailing his eyes over you before he has a chance to stop himself.

“Perfect!” Sarah smiles at you, “(Y/N), if you’re not too busy can you help my pain-in-the-ass brother to fix his car so he can stop stressing out?”

You look from her and onto her brother, the way his chest is rising and falling like even the sight of you irritated him beyond normal, “I don’t think he wants my help. I’m just here to get the key to the locker, we’ve got stuff to put away.”

Rafe looks at you directly, as if he hopes his gaze will eventually pierce through your confidence and give him the upper hand, “I’ll get you the key, if you get me that cap.”

It’s impossible to hide the smirk over your lips, “Hard bargain, Rafe Cameron.”

“Just do it,” He rolls his eyes, storming out of the room just as quickly as he’s entered.

Sarah glances up at you and shakes her head, “I’m sure you make him worse than normal.”

You laugh and nod your head a little, “Yeah, probably, but someone’s got to do it.”

You leave then and go out to your car, where Rafe is already waiting. He’s leant back against the side of it, his elbows leaning back on either side of the roof and his ankles crossed as if you had kept him waiting for a short version of forever.

”Do you mind? You’ll ruin the paint,” You bat his arm away and it evokes a deep laugh from him, one of mocking more so than amusement.

“On this thing? I think the paint is the least of your concerns,” He comments, glancing down at the scratches that wound around the side of the doors.

“Do you want to fix your car or not?”

He’s quiet then.

“This was my Dad’s car,” You mention, grabbing what you needed from the trunk before closing it, “And until it stops driving, I see no reason to get rid of it.”

“Your Dad,” Rafe studies your face, “Yeah, I remember him, he used to work at the club, right?”

As you walk past him, you find yourself having to swallow the lump in your throat before you can think of responding properly, “Yeah.”

“How did he-“

“Can you stop?” You snap at him, twisting off the old cap and fixing the new one in place over the fuel pump.

“Can I stop what?”

You stand up from the hood of his car and slam it shut, “Pretending like you give a shit. I don’t need your pity.”

It’s like something switches off in Rafe then, a light going out before your eyes had even adjusted to it being there, he straightens up his shoulders, lets out a cold blooded laugh through his lips, “Oh I don’t pity you, you Pogues are all just as bad as each other. Criminals, nothing more.”

“Well, if you don’t mind, this criminal has to get back to working on your boat,” You step forward and swipe the locker key from his hand, “I’ll try my best to not steal anything whilst I’m there.”

He watches you walk away, tastes the sarcastic air left in the wake of your words, breathes in the lingering scent of your unwavering confidence. And he can’t bring himself to look away from you. But, for just a brief moment, Rafe realises that he doesn’t want to.

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