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katelynnwrites · 1 year

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pairing: Ona Batlle x f!Reader

warnings: does the fact that i absolutely hate the way this turned out count?

word count: 1982

summary: you’re very busy people watching others, too busy to notice that ona is watching you

a/n: based off the song, people watching by conan gray

People Watching

You sit quietly in the corner of the locker room, observing as once again, Millie and Ella start singing some pop song. It gets even louder once Tooney successfully convinces her best friend to join in.

A little smile grows on your face as Ona gets nudged by Alessia, the Spanish girl chuckling as she refuses the forward’s attempt to draw her into their chaos.

Ona shakes her head at Alessia and your heart skips a beat as the grin on her face widens.

She looks beautiful and you duck your head blushing slightly and cursing yourself for your gay panic.

For the rest of the time in the locker room, you focus on reorganising the contents of your bag and maybe just occasionally sneaking glances in Ona’s direction.

That wasn't funny but she laughed so hard, she almost cried

They're counting months they've been together, almost 49

He's making fun of how she acted 'round the holidays

She wears a ring but they tell people that they're not engaged

They met in class for metaphysical philosophy

He tells his friends, "I like her 'cause she's so much smarter than me"

They're having talks about their futures until 4:00 a.m.

And I'm happy for them

Once again you’re sitting quietly, this time in a cafe, listening to the couple at the table next to you. They’re telling their friends how they met and their love story is so sweet it makes your heart ache.

Would you ever have your own story like that?

Looking up from your coffee, you immediately notice the way the boy is looking at his girl like she had hung the stars in the sky.

Another question preoccupies you as you go back to your coffee.

Would anyone ever love you like that?

But I wanna feel all that love and emotion

Be that attached to the person I'm holding

Someday, I'll be falling without caution

But for now, I'm only people watching

People watching was probably the activity you did most. Most times you’d find yourself doing it unconsciously. You were shy and often anxious, especially so around others. This shyness resulted in you being near silent around your teammates, particularly the louder ones.

You liked Millie, you really did. She was really nice to you and had helped you settle down in Manchester when you had first signed for them. Sometimes though, her loudness scared you a tiny bit and you just wished she would give you some prior warning before she created a loud bang.

I'm only looking just to live through you vicariously

I've never really been in love, not seriously

I had a dream about a house behind a picket fence

Next one I choose to trust, I hope I use some common sense

Very rarely, you envied her. Millie and her girlfriend had such a strong relationship despite how far apart they lived and whenever she talked about Rachel, you could see the way her eyes lit up. She loved her girlfriend, anyone could see that.

Would you ever find a love like that?

You couldn’t help thinking that if you could be as confident and outgoing as Millie, you could tell Ona about your feelings for her.

The brunette was something or rather someone unexpected. You came to Manchester solely to improve on your football, you never thought that you would find someone like her who would give you another reason to stay at the club.

It was entirely unexpected, Manchester United signing the cutest full back to help you and Millie with the backline.

Ona was warm, like the Spanish sunshine she loved so much. She was sweet, often offering to stay back after trainings if you wanted some extra practice.

She too was quiet but only at first. She would sit beside you in the bus, on the bench during games and in the locker room. Softly, the Catalan would ask you for clarifications and the meanings of words she picked up from the conversations around the both of you.

Often, she would kiss your cheek in thanks for the answers and it always left you a blushing mess.

But I cut people out like tags on my clothing

I end up all alone but I still keep hoping

After she had a better understanding of English however, she talked more with your other teammates but still occasionally sat down beside you, enjoying the way your presence put her at ease.

Following an exhausting game that had ended in a tough loss, Ona silently sits beside you, leaning her head against your shoulder.

‘You okay?’ You whisper.

‘Mhm. Just need some time.’ She mumbles. A bad pass on her part had resulted in the goal that had sealed the loss and you knew that the full back was beating herself up about it.

You want to hold her hand but afraid that that would be too much, you settle for asking her if she wants a hug.

‘Really?’ The defeated expression on Ona’s face lifts and you open your arms to her.

‘Of course.’

She’s quick to let you wrap your arms around her and even quicker to reciprocate the embrace.

As Ona tucks her face into the side of your neck, you rub circles onto her back and make a promise to yourself that you would do your best not to push her away like you did to so many others before.

You didn’t trust easily and often found yourself pushing away people you deemed had become too close to you. With Ona, you were determined not to. It was safe for you to let her in, she wouldn’t hurt you. At least you really really hoped she wouldn’t.

I wanna feel all that love and emotion

Be that attached to the person I'm holding

Someday, I'll be fallin' without caution

But for now, I'm only people watching

You knew a lot of things about your teammates. A lot of things about the staff even. Things that not many would know because it wasn’t very obvious.

You knew that Ella and Alessia liked to go get their nails done at a place near their apartments, not because of their exceptional service but because they were friends with the staff.

You knew that Maria liked to walk her dog in the evening but on game days she preferred to do so in the morning because it soothed any anxieties or worries she had.

You knew that Hannah could play equally well as a right or left back but would rather play on the right because of a superstition she had. It was why you always let her be the right back whenever you were on the pitch with her.

You even knew that Janie, the team’s primary doctor liked a member of the groundskeeping team even though she never said anything because you had observed the way she would sneak glances at him while the team trained.

And Ona, you knew a lot about her. You knew that she always stepped onto the pitch with her right foot first. You knew that while she had chosen to pursue football as a career instead of ice skating, she still loved the latter sport because when she couldn’t sleep, she’d watch ice skating competitions under the blankets in the hotel beds.

You knew that though she had adapted very well to Manchester, she still struggled with the lack of physical affection. Spanish affection was very different from English affection and you tried your best to remedy that by giving her the occasional hug.

As much as you would have loved to hug her more often or maybe even kiss her just as you’d dreamed about, you made sure that none of your actions gave away the way you felt about her.

Cut people out like tags on my clothing

I end up all alone but I still keep hoping

I won't be scared to let someone know me

Life feels so monotone but I still keep hoping

If you weren’t so busy people watching others you’d see that Ona was always, always looking at you.

She was looking at you every chance she could. At recovery, at trainings, at team bondings, on the bus and even while she was talking to other teammates.

Half her mind was constantly on you.

She did always make sure to look away just as your gaze inevitably fell on her though.

The Spanish full back was almost certain that you liked her but she wanted you to be comfortable with her. She wanted you to be able to be at home with her, just as she was with you.

Sometimes though, she couldn’t resist giving you the tiniest hint that she liked you back.

Cut people out like tags on my clothing

I end up all alone but I still keep hoping

I won't be scared to let someone know me

Life feels so monotone but I still keep hoping

Hope. Hope is a four letter word and a feeling that you felt whenever you saw Ona. You kept on hoping and hoping that you would get your happy ending. That you would love someone and have them love you back. And that Ona would be the one for you.

For all of your people watching, you really could be quite blind.

The full back was making a TikTok with Mary and the smile on her face was perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

Your gaze can’t help but be drawn to her and you were trying your best not to blatantly stare at her.

Ona however, already knew that you were watching her.

Looking up at just the right time, she catches your eye and winks. Winks to let you know that she knew you were watching her and that she didn’t mind.

You flush immediately, gaze darting to the grass which you proceed to look at like it was the most interesting thing you had ever seen.

Ona giggles, quickly finishing the TikTok with the goalie so that she can plonk herself down on the grass, next to you.

‘Hola.’ She greets cheerfully.

‘Hi.’ You mumble, not looking up because your face was still red.

‘You know that you’re kinda cute right?’

That causes you to look up, cheeks even redder than before.

‘I am?’

‘Yeah.’ Ona nods, a smile gracing her face.

The Spanish player chuckles and leans in to kiss your cheek before getting up, leaving a flustered you behind.

I wanna feel all that love and emotion

Be that attached to the person I'm holding

Someday, I'll be falling without caution

But for now, I'm only people watching

You were falling. This was your someday. You were falling without caution for Ona.

For Ona who had earned your trust, for Ona who had made you feel at home with her. For Ona who was now dozing off in your arms. For Ona who you were now attached to.

You missed her when she was away for national camps, missed her when you were injured and couldn’t travel with the United team even though it was only for two weeks.

You missed her simply when she wasn’t beside you.

You felt all that love and emotion for her. She was the love you had been hoping for, the love you had dreamt about. You were done with people watching because you no longer envied others. You had found a person who you were safe with. You could let her in because she would never hurt you.

It had taken you a while to get there but you had finally made it.

‘I love you. You know that right?’ Ona softly murmurs.

‘Yeah. I love you, you know that right?’ You ask back, in the same fashion.

Your girlfriend hums sleepily, cuddling closer into you.

‘I know.’

Spanish Translation:

hola - hi/hello

#ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #katelynnwrites #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #woso

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theepisceswriter · 3 years

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𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐄 — 𝐑.𝐁

♡ Pairing: Reiner Braun x AFAB!Reader ♡ Rating: 18 plus, MDNI! or I’ll gnaw on your ankles like corn ♡ TW: Smut obvies besties, breeding kink like heavily, nursing mentions, lactation mention, oral (fem recieving), dirty talk, praising, a whole lot ! Also not proofread. ♡ Synopsis: Wedding night sexy and fluff with your breeding kink ridden husband Reiner ♡ WC: 2.3k

♡ A/N: AHHHH, my first ever collab ! this is for my bby, @saccharine-darling ‘s Reiner and Zeke birthday collab. Thank you so much for letting me participate and giving me the experience of being in my very first collab. Congrats on your milestone yet again babes !

The welcoming aroma of lavender and rose candles that omitted a warm, soft glow throughout the dimly lit suite of the newlyweds did very little to help calm the nerves that ran like electricity through your nervous system.

Every second your fingers ran over the see through coverup nightgown over your lingerie, not even smoothing out wrinkles anymore but giving your so awkwardly placed hands something to do; anything that kept you hidden away in the bathroom for a couple more seconds to compose yourself before you had to be met with Reiner’s hunger filled gaze.

This was nowhere near his first time seeing you naked or the first time he would ravage your body, nor would it be the last, but it was something about the newfound intimacy between you two as husband and wife that made this night especially special, the two of you right back in your honeymoon phase all over again.

Not that you two had ever really left it. Every day with Reiner was a day you felt loved and appreciated by him and that was only amplified by 100 today. You couldn’t possibly count how many times he glanced over at you with that loving doe look in his eyes that just screamed ‘Finally, you’re my wife.’ And you could’ve sworn that you saw tears slip from his hazel eyes the moment he saw you cladded in your silk white wedding dress, done up the prettiest he had ever seen you, as you walked down the aisle towards him.

He made sure to let everyone know that he was proud of his beautiful bride by holding you close to his side the whole day, arm hardly ever leaving from around your waist and always ready to sing praises about you to whoever would listen.

And now that the two of you were alone he was ready to appreciate you in a different way, the way he knew best.

“Come on, love. There’s no need for you to act all shy around me now,” His voice beckons you from the other side of the door, “I want to see my pretty bride in all her glory.

He lounged on the large California king sized bed situated in the middle of the room with nothing but briefs attached to his body, toned chest prickled slightly with stray blonde hairs that glimmered against the golden light of the lit candles, as he awaited your arrival. Any time spent away whether it was a couple of days or a handful of minutes while you got ready in the bathroom was always excruciating for him to deal with.

With hesitant fingers you twisted at the doorknob until the door opened wide enough for Reiner’s eyes to meet yours with something like a sly smirk painting his features the moment he saw the lace lingerie that hugged your body in all the right places.

It was his words and the expression on his face that gave you enough confidence to step from behind the bathroom door, finally putting your whole body on display for him to see as you made your way over to the bed.

He wastes no time at all, the moment your knees hit the cushioning of the bed he already has his large hands at your waist groping the skin that couldn’t all fit into the restraints of your undergarments and pulling you into his lap, forcing you to straddle his large thighs.

Immediately his lips find their way on yours, wanting and hungry as he practically devours them with open mouth kisses with the occasional tongue slipping past your lips just to get whatever taste of you he could right now.

His fingers traced the irregular pattern of the lace adorning your skin, continuing the pattern up your abdomen until he reaches the mounds of your breasts where he transitions to a grope, his hand nearly covering every square inch of the skin except for the gaps in between his fingers.

Breaking away from the kiss with a trail of saliva still connecting you two, hooded darkened hazel eyes looked up at you with nothing short of admiration, “Look at you,” The blonde nearly growled out in a feral tone, “So, so pretty and dressed up just for me. Too bad I’m going to ruin it, hm?”

His words bring flutters to the deepest parts of your abdomen, making the already damp spot that had begun to collect on your underwear accumulate even more. He always had that type of effect on you.

Peeling off the cover up that hid the rest of your body from him, he discarded it on the floor and was quick to do the same with your bra next. The warmth and moistness of his mouth engulfed your nipple and large areola with ease, already knowing exactly where to direct his mouth after doing so plenty of times, before beginning to suckle on it gently as if he were nursing from you while his other hand flicked over your other nipple getting it prepared next.

“That feels so good, Rei.” Your moans only encouraged him on more, his suckling becoming slightly harder and his tongue flicking faster once he moved on to the other nipple.

“I can’t wait until these are filled to the brim and leaking with milk once you’re carrying our child,” he nuzzles his face between the valley of your breast, sucking on the skin there and leaving a few hickies before motorboating and pulling away completely.

Ruin is exactly what he planned to do with you tonight. In seconds you were being flipped onto your back, not hard enough that it hurt but with enough force to leave you confused and shocked before you realized your positions had been switched. It left him with the perfect opportunity to lean down and rip your panties quite literally off of your lower torso completely, mumbling about how he was going to buy you even prettier ones in the future as he trailed kisses down your legs. Making sure to stop and give extra attention to the areas on the inside of your thigh that he knew would make you squirm up against him.

“Fuck,” Just the sight of your cunt adorned with arousal alone had him ready to cum undone, rough finger pads moving your lips around to observe the beauty that was you.

“I’m the luckiest man on earth. I must be to have someone as beautiful as you, love.” The words leave his lips in a tone that doesn’t allow it to come off as anything short of a fact because in his heart it was.

Spreading your legs further apart with the placement of his arms, he allowed a long trail of saliva to escape from between his lips and fall directly over your sensitive bud, sending shivers up your spine, before leaning down and adding on to the mess he created with his saliva by moving his tongue in a way that only accumulated more. It didn’t matter how much you squirmed beneath him or tried to move your hips against his mouth at a pace that wouldn’t have you cumming as fast as he was going to, he wasn’t going to slow down.

His lips isolated directly over your clit and collected all the wetness he could in his mouth as he continued abusing it with pleasure. His face was soaked in your juices at this point and that only made it all the more better for him; Reiner getting just as much pleasure as you the more he made you feel good.

“Oh, fuck baby,” the words left your lips in a broken moan that borderlined a choke and something about the way your husband hummed against your cunt in surprise let you know that he knew you were close as well,

“I know darling, I know. Go ahead and cum all over my tongue like the good girl you are.”

Removing himself from your cunt with pop, he allowed only those words to be spoken before he went right back to work. Even going the extra mile and slipping two fingers inside of you to give your pussy something to clench around for the meantime.

And it wasn’t long after that, that your thighs clenched tight around the sides of his head and your fingers found themselves entangled in his blonde locks as you rode your orgasm out on his tongue. Your hips bucking wildly up against his mouth that he gladly left open for you to use and small ‘thank you’s escaping with gasps from your lips.

A kiss to each inner thigh was given before Reiner merely situated his lower torso between your waist instead of his face, gathering your legs from the back of your thighs and pressing them against your chest so you were spread out nice and perfect for him. He didn’t even bother removing his briefs completely, only moving the band around his waist down far enough for this thick cock to come springing out and slap against his stomach. The precum leaking from his pretty peach tip leaving a stain on one of his abs that glistened when he was positioned perfectly in the dim lighting of the room.

He strokes his thumb over his tip with a groan, taking his cock at the base and sliding it through the soaked lips of your cunt. He needed as much lube as he could possibly get. Taking him wasn’t an easy task at all even after you had done it plenty of times; he was huge just by girth alone and he didn’t want to hurt his pretty wife. Especially not the pretty pussy he was going to be stuffing with children in the near future.

Lining himself up with your plush entrance, he groaned with each inch of him that sunk into your inviting walls, moving his hands to the side of your head for leverage as he began snapping his hips up against yours in swift calculated motions he knew would curve up into your most sensitive areas. His eyes never left contact with yours, still holding that loving gaze he had hours before during your ceremony despite how roughly he was thrusting up against you, cock hitting all the right spots.

“Fuck you feel so fucking good baby you have no idea. Such a tight and breedable pussy you have on you.” His fingers tangle with yours and holds them tight as he pounds into you from above, the weight of his meaty body keeping your legs pressed up against your chest, still sensitive from his suckling and biting from earlier.

And all you could do was take how deep he was going and the feeling of his tip gently pressing against your cervix at a pressure that didn’t quite hurt, but sent a shiver throughout your whole body in response.

“Fill me up, Rei. I want you to fill me up nice and full.” You finally managed to get out in stutters through his rough pace of fucking, thock cock invading every inch of your insides and wall with a burn that felt too good.

Your words clearly had an effect on him because not only did his cheeks visibly turn red, but you could feel dribbles of precum dripping inside of you. You just had that type of effect on him.

“My pretty little wife wants to be bred like a slut, hm? Then I’ll do exactly that for you, love. I’m gonna fill you to the brim with cum until you have no choice but to take it and get pregnant.” And on cue, hot spurts of cum release deep inside of you with one last stroke. So filled to the brim with cum that even with his dick inside of you acting as a stopper, it still can’t help but trickle down to your asshole.

“Don;t think we’re done yet because we’re nowhere near that.” He huffs into your ear and although you can't see his face, you can just hear the smirk in his tone. “M’not stopping until I know for sure that you’re going to be nice and plump in the next few months.”

#I literally posted like the day of the deadline im so sorry LMAO #but I hope u all enjoy babes #reiner braun #reiner braun smut #reiner braun x reader #aot smut #aot x reader #Spicy.#shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyoujin smut #ReiZe birthday collab

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angry-geese · 3 years

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Favourite Worst Nightmare II

Secco x Reader x Cioccolata

Warnings: Nsfw. Kinda dub-con (not really, reader is eventually into it), threesome, oral (fem and male receiving), face fucking, choking. Fem!Reader

Part One

Everything about the basement invoked a sense of fear in you. The room is sparsely furnished, with a single metal table and a light hanging over it. Trays of various surgical tools- clean or not- are littered about. Though no body lays on the table, the room smells faintly of blood.

"This isn't funny!" You try to struggle free. "Put me down!"

"No." The way Secco says it is almost childlike. Some raspy noise escapes him- you suppose it's a laugh.

He sets you down on the table, caging you in his arms. The metal is cold against your skin. His hands move to spread your legs, holding them apart, giving him room to settle between them. There's something strangely cold about his touch; it's like holding a corpse. He sucks dark marks into your neck, nipping at the skin. While not the gory fate you expected, it leaves you confused.

It's when you feel something hard press into you that your stomach drops.

He trails his hands under your shirt, shoving your bra up to expose your breasts. His movements are animalistic and predatory in a way. You're too paralyzed with fear to respond. Making a run for it would be a death wish. Secco is faster- and stronger- than you, and Cioccolata is likely waiting at the top of the stairs. Fighting back is almost as stupid as running, but you might have a less humiliating fate.

A small gasp escapes you when he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, pinching the other between his fingers, running his tongue across your skin. Shamelessly you moan, partially caught off guard by the act. He works the sensitive flesh into stiff peaks. You can't deny the heat that pools in your stomach, though most of you is wanting to die from embarrassment. He pulls away with a pop, a line of saliva connecting his mouth and your skin.

You lift your hips so he can pull your pants off. He coaxes your shirt off, tossing it to the side. Your nipples harden when exposed to the chilly air. He pulls you into a kiss, biting rather hard at your bottom lip until you allow his tongue to enter your mouth. There's a sickly sweet taste that hangs on him. Some strange guttural noise leaves him as he traces kisses down your stomach. He licks a long stripe from your belly button to the top of your panties, glancing up at you almost to ask for permission. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging gently. He doesn't have much self control- he'd fuck you over the table there and then if he wasn't waiting for someone.

Cioccolata's icy hands trace up your arms, moving down to your chest to pinch at your nipples harshly. The cold makes you shy away from his touch. He only laughs at that, the noise coming from low in his chest. Already a tent grows in his pants. He frees his cock, giving himself a few pumps. Precum leaks from the head. It's built like the rest of him: long and fairly thick. Secco's fingers trace down your slit, through the thin fabric covering it. You're beginning to soak through. They move you so your back is flat against the table.

He hardly gives you any warning before shoving his cock down your throat. With the way you're laying, it's hard to bob your head. He takes to fucking your mouth, grabbing your neck to hold you still. You know you'll have a sore throat in the morning- if you survive until then. When you gag, he presses down, cutting off your air for just a moment.

Secco latches onto your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub. He doesn't seem the most experienced, but he's observant enough that it doesn't take him long to find a pattern you like. He pushes your panties to the side to insert a finger- just the one at first, stroking your sweet spot for a moment before adding a second. You moan around Cioccolata's cock, making him dig his nails into your scalp. Secco grunts when you squeeze your thighs around his head. Tension builds in your stomach, like a coil winding tighter and tighter until its bound to snap. You cum on his mouth. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his tongue, only pulling away when the overstimulation becomes too much and you cry out.

They pull away long enough for you to roll over onto your stomach; your mind is too hazy to do much else. Secco's fingers dig into your thighs as he lines himself up with your soaked entrance. He's smaller than Cioccolata- not by much- and clean shaven. The noise he makes when he slides in is inhuman. A moan of your own escapes you. One of his hands moves to toy with your clit while he fucks you from behind. At this angle he manages to hit deep, stroking your sweet spot. His movements are erratic- you can tell he's already getting close. You aren't far behind. Your second orgasm rolls over you like a wave, leaving you fucked-out and exhausted.

Cioccolata moves back to your mouth. Your hand comes up to stroke at the base of his cock- the part that won't fit in your mouth, while you work on the sensitive head. He does groan occasionally, but there's no real way to gauge his reaction. You suppose he just isn't very vocal. Cioccolata gives no warning when he's about to cum, and spills his salty seed down your throat. You pull away, choking and spilling cum down your chest. The rest you swallow, albeit unintentionally. He steps back, tilting your chin up to see the debauched expression on your face, admiring his work.

Leaning down to sink his teeth into your shoulder, Secco cums hard- and lots. You cry out in pain, but it's quickly stifled with your own moan. His warm seed spills into your womb, dripping down your inner thigh. When he pulls out, he plugs you up with his fingers.

Secco pulls you to the ground with him, forcefully holding you in his lap. You're far too tired to protest. One of his hands awkwardly strokes your hair, the other smooths over the soft flesh of your thigh. In some bizarre way it's comforting. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck. He smells faintly of something sweet, mixed with his sweat. Cioccolata doesn't do much more that zip himself back up, tossing you a towel before leaving. You shift to a more comfortable position, Secco's chest flush to your back, sitting between his legs.

It isn't long before he's getting hard again.

Good luck. Try to survive until morning.

#jjba #jjba x reader #jojo part 5 #vento aureo #secco x reader #cioccolata x reader #not sfw #secco #cioccolata #jojo's bizarre adventure #golden wind #cw dubcon

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nonbinary-ghost · 3 years

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A Conversation Between Vessel and Wyrm

So, I know I’ve never posted my writing here before but this scene has been playing in my head for days and I just need to share it. The premise is based on @chipper-smol ‘s shitlordAU where Ghost somehow goes back it time to when they and the Pure Vessel were kids, and decide to absolutely torment their Father in between finding a way to kill the Radiance. It’s such a fantastic AU rife with opportunities for both humor and angst. Anyone who reads this should totally check out chipper’s work!

(This turned out longer than expected: ~2700 words, so the rest is under the Keep Reading tab)

Ghost leaned back and tilted their head to the side, observing their painting with a critical eye. The corridor in which they worked was dark, but the barest glow of the occasional lumifly that flitted about the palace halls provided just enough light for Ghost to be able to make out the dark lines of ink they had scrawled across the white wall. They nodded to themself in approval. The painting, while quite sloppy, could at least be recognized as the Pale King with monstrously exaggerated teeth and a grotesque tongue. They rubbed their chin thoughtfully, unwittingly getting some of the black ink on their mask, as they pondered if there was something more they could add to the painting to make it even less flattering.

Their current prank was one outside of Ghost’s typical inclinations. Until the Queen had begun to teach Ghost to write, they never held much interest for anything to do with a brush and ink. They had found Sheo’s art beautiful or interesting certainly, and they marveled at the skill with which the retired nailmaster could wield a brush – but such things never appealed to Ghost. There had been so much they needed to do at the time that learning about art seemed unnecessary. But now that they were learning to write, Ghost realized that art could be used to communicate just as much as words, and the motions of painting were somewhat easier for them than the neat script they were attempting to master. Sheo hadn’t lied when he said the strokes of a brush were not unlike the strokes of a nail, and Ghost had found they enjoyed the act of creating something that others could see and understand.

This particular painting was not their best, but it wasn’t intended to be. It was intended to stir up the Knights and bother the Pale King, to prove yet again that Ghost could think and feel – and to illustrate how they felt about the King.

Ghost didn’t notice the approaching bug until the shadow eclipsed the faint lumifly light they were using to paint by. Ghost froze as the shadow slipped over them. Their shoulders tensed as they prepared for the cold hand of a Kingsmould to grip the collar of their cloak, or a loud scolding from Dryya. When neither came, Ghost dared a hesitant glance over their shoulder. Shock rang through them like a stag-bell when they found not a Kingsmould, nor one of the Five Knights behind them.

It was the Pale King.

Ghost went ridged, half prepared to bolt and debating if doing so was worth the effort. Their painting was meant to be discovered after all, and it would never have been any question by whose hands the crude caricature had been created. But the King’s gaze focused not on the guilty Vessel standing before him. Rather, he appeared to be studying Ghost’s painting, his secondary hands clasped behind his back and while his primary ones rested in the wide sleeves of his robe. The Pale King’s unusually calm demeanor unnerved Ghost and they slowly turned to face the Wyrm, their hand almost instinctively reaching for the reassuring hilt of a nail that was no longer there.

“A remarkable likeness.” When not raised in anger the Pale King’s voice was almost as melodious as the White Lady’s. Ghost cocked their head enough to glance between their painting and the King in disbelief. The painting, while recognizable as the King by the crown-like horns, was by no means a “remarkable likeness” to the actual subject. Ghost had deliberately made the painting as messy and obnoxious as possible. Perhaps sensing Ghost’s disbelief, the King unclasped a secondary hand from behind his back and raised it toward the painting.

“I imagine that this is how you must see me,” he murmured. “I cannot truthfully say it is all that far from accurate.”

Before Ghost could process the meaning of the King’s words, the Pale Wyrm finally turned his gaze on them. The weight of that unwavering attention felt like a heavy pressure against Ghost’s shell and they found themself tensing, feeling as if the Pale King was staring right into them. It was unusual for the King to actually look at Ghost without some other distraction dividing his attention – distractions Ghost typically crafted – and they weren’t certain they liked the scrutiny of the King’s abrupt interest in them. Despite the fact that Ghost now stood taller than the King, they felt suddenly small.

“Vessel-“ he began, but stopped before the word fully left his mouth. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “Ghost. If I may have a word with you somewhere more comfortable?”

So startled by the Pale King’s use of their name and the phrasing of the request as a question rather than an order, Ghost found themself nodding yes without really considering the consequences. They followed the Wyrm with their thoughts swimming. This was not the kind of response they had come to expect from the King – anger, yes, shouting, almost certainly. But this calm, quiet passivity left Ghost uneasy and they struggled not to fiddle with the hem of their cloak as they walked behind the King, following him down corridor after corridor. As they walked, Ghost began to notice that the pale white light that the king always seemed to give off was much fainter than they remembered. Perhaps the Wyrm was suppressing the glow to avoid disturbing any sleeping bugs whose rooms they passed.

With a final turn the two of them entered a veranda that overlooked a vast garden glowing bright with thousands of lumiflies – no doubt one of the Queen’s creations, though Ghost didn’t recall ever coming to this particular garden with their mother. The King gracefully lifted himself up to sit upon the short wall that separated the tiled veranda from the garden, his wings flaring slightly to aid his balance. Ghost stared, uncertain of what to do. They were fine with breaking formalities for the sake of rebellion, but at the moment the King was adhering to no formalities for Ghost to go against. It made them feel strangely directionless. They fidgeted. They didn’t like this feeling. The King lifted a secondary hand to gesture to the space beside him, keeping his primary hands nestled in the sleeves of his robes.

“Would you care to sit with me?”

Ghost rocked forward to oblige but halted before even taking a step, instead crossing their arms over their chest and staring at the Pale King expectantly. While they could not fathom what all of this was about, they could clearly sense there was something specific the King wanted to say. Ghost waited and the King sighed, turning his head to look out over the garden.

“It has come to my attention that you have begun spending some time with the Pure Vessel.”

Ghost didn’t move. So what if they had? Pure was not some hollow thing, no matter how much they pretended to be in order to appease their Father. Ghost knew the Knights went to great lengths to keep the two siblings away from each other, but that didn’t mean Ghost didn’t seek Pure out from time to time. When they were alone, Pure sometimes even relaxed a little, and showed sparks of interest in the language of hand-signs Ghost was crafting with the Queen. Their meetings were few and far between, as Pure’s life was strictly regimented and Pure would never go against something they were told to do, but their meetings had been occurring with more frequency after the sparing match Ghost had instigated.

“This cannot be permitted.”

Indignation sparked through Ghost and they clenched their hands against their folded arms. The Pale King let out a long breath and turned on the wall to face them, his expression unreadable.

“I must admit, was wrong about you.”

Ghost stared, their anger faltering somewhat. Making their hands into fists, Ghost held them up in front of their chest with their thumbs pointed toward themself. With a quick twist of their right fist, Ghost pointed their right thumb upwards. The motion meant “how” – in what way was the King wrong about them. Ghost wasn’t sure if the King knew any of the signs they used with their Mother, but it was what they had. The King at least continued as if he understood the motion.

“You were never hollow – only a fool would watch your mayhem and attempt to claim otherwise. For a time, I have ridiculed myself for allowing you to remain here with the Pure Vessel. I believed you should have been removed.”

The King’s gaze had shifted down to stare at his primary hands resting in his lap. Ghost could see, now, that they were stained a dark black that stood out starkly against his silver robes. A black so deep and bottomless it looked like it would leech the light out of the room around it. A black so similar to the void of which Ghost was made … Ghost went cold as they suddenly comprehended what the Pale King was implying – that they should have been killed. Discarded into the abyss. The King shifted and Ghost dropped into a defensive stance as their whole body trembled with sudden fear, once again reaching for the hilt of a nail that was no longer there. But the King only lifted his head to meet Ghost’s eyes.

“It was wrong of me to believe that.” He paused only long enough to take a deep breath before continuing. “You are a sentient being, very full of life and will, with a personality all your own. To believe that I have any right to take that from you is a crime against everything I have built Hollownest around. And to see the way my Root adores you … how could I ever take you away from her?”

The raw honesty in the Pale King’s voice made Ghost hesitantly stand from the half crouch they’d fallen into. He…cared? He cared that Ghost could feel? Enough so for it to stay his hand in killing them, when he’d never hesitated with all of their lost kin in the abyss far below? Why? Was it because he knew without a doubt that Ghost was not hollow, and could not delude himself into thinking otherwise as he had with the others? Or was it because the Queen had taken a liking to Ghost and going against her wishes would cause strife between them? Ghost almost didn’t hear the King’s next words, but at the mention of Pure their attention was quickly pulled back to the Pale King.

“But the Pure Vessel is a different matter. It has a purpose – one whose success or failure will determine the fate of every bug in Hollownest.” The tentative hope spurred by the King’s acknowledgment of Ghost’s sentience vanished as the King continued to speak, and unease began to worm its way through Ghost’s chest. “You are not hollow, of this there is no doubt, but the Pure Vessel must remain as such if it is to succeed. The more you are around it, the more likely it is to begin to feel. If it sees the leniency with which you are treated, it may begin to develop a will of its own, and all of the sacrifices made to protect this kingdom will have been for naught. You must stay away from the Pure Vessel to preserve that hollowness for which it was created.”

Rage thundered through Ghost at the King’s words and they sharply signed “You are wrong”. Pure had never been hollow. The King’s plan had already failed, doomed from the very beginning, and Ghost refused to let their sibling go through that suffering again. That was the whole reason they were here – to stop the radiance before their sibling was sacrificed, before Hollownest fell to ruin. The King blinked at the venom in Ghost’s movements as their hands flittered through the signs for disgust, for being too late, for refusal. They were too angry to keep the motions smooth and they shook as that fiery emotion pounded through them. Even if the King could not understand all of the motions, the message was clear: They refused to stay away from Pure.

The Pale King’s brow pinched in anger and his wings flared slightly.

“There is no other way to keep Hollownest safe,” he rumbled, his voice tight with controlled anger, but Ghost shook their head. The King’s hands clenched into fists. “We have tried everything else. Without something to contain the Radiance and Her infection, Hollownest will fall and every bug in the Kingdom will be corrupted. I cannot doom the entirety of my people to an existence of mindless misery for the sake of any one bug. If you continue to interfere with the Pure Vessel, you will condemn everyone in Hollownest to a living death. Surely you must understand this! I know you are not blind – you have been outside of the palace, you have almost certainly seen those the Radiance has already corrupted.”

The Pale King had no idea just how much suffering Ghost had seen at the hands of the Radiance’s infection. The memory of Pure’s eyes filled with the yellow light of the Radiance swam up and Ghost recoiled as they remembered the wretched agony in their sibling’s motions as they turned their nail on themself, trying to cut the infection away. No. The King could not possibly understand just how much Ghost knew about the pain the spreading infection caused. They shook their head, feeling oddly ill as they clenched their trembling hands into fists at their sides in their sign for “I��m done speaking to you”. They turned sharply and moved to leave the veranda.

“If there was any other way, I swear to you I would take it,” the Pale King whispered to Ghost’s back, his voice soft with some kind of emotion. Regret? “But I cannot See any other path that will slow the Infection’s spread.”

Ghost straightened, spinning to meet the King’s gaze with a furious glare. Of course he could not know of any other way. He was looking at this problem from a completely different angle than Ghost. He was trying to find a way to slow the infection, to contain it, while simultaneously trapping and starving the Radiance in a Vessel of Void. He could See no way to remove the infection at its source. Ghost realized that while the Pale King had a measure of Foresight, his Sight must be limited to the scope of the knowledge he already possessed. He did not know of the Seer, of the Dreamnail, of Godseeker. He could not fight the Radiance directly, not without a way to enter Dream and face the enraged Goddess, and so he was attempting to defeat her in this roundabout manner. Did he know his doomed plan would ultimately fail, but believe it to be the only way to buy his people time?

“You are wrong,” Ghost signed, pointing at the king and lifting their thumb and pinky in a gesture under their chin. They then closed their fist and pointed their thumb to the side before using both hands to imitate the sides of a path: “There is another way.”

The King’s brow furrowed and he shook his head.

“I do not understand.”

Ghost opened and closed their fists at their sides in frustration. Even if the King could understand their signs, Ghost did not have the gestures for the ideas they would need in order to convey their plan to the Pale King. Their anger cooled somewhat, shifting to a steady burn in the pit of their being rather than the all-consuming fury that had raged through them not moments before, and they realized that if they could find a way to explain their plan to the King, he might help them find the Seer. If he knew there was another way, would he help them do it?

“I don’t have the words to explain,” Ghost signed by drawing a finger over their throat. They held up their index fingers a little ways apart, then made an ‘L’ with their right hand, pressing their thumb into their raised left palm and twisting their right hand so the ‘L’ was upside down: “I will tell you later.”

They did not wait for the king to respond before turning and storming out of the veranda, their mind ablaze.

The Pale King could not See that there was another way.

So Ghost would make him See.

#hollow knight #Ghost hk #Pale King HK #my writing #this ended up more serious than intended but it was sooooo much fun to write

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emsemotional · 3 years

Text

out of line

Okay so this is a little baby one shot based on my mental health advocate!mickey headcanon that I posted a little while back. I used to write a lot for various fandoms back in high school, but it’s been a while since I’ve written anything, and even longer since I’ve shared anything I’ve written with anyone other than @lewslew, so please be nice- I definitely have some room to grow with characterization and timing.

This is taking place post-finale, so I’ve taken some liberties regarding what everyone ends up doing after the series. In my mind, Mickey and Ian buy the Gallagher house themselves, because they’re Southside boys at heart and they need a backyard for their dog (duh). But they’re waiting on their Westside lease to end, so Lip, Tami and Liam are staying in the house while Lip and Debbie fix it up and renovate a little (you can find my whole hc on what everyone’s up to post-series here). I was talking to @iansfreckles a while back about a possible Gallagher/Tamietti family dinner- I’m so interested in how this would go and how the families’ dynamics would interact. SO, this takes place at said Gallagher/Tamietti family cookout, right as Lip and Tami are moving out of the house, and Ian and Mickey are moving in. Cami and Brad’s kids are with Aunt Oopie, I dunno I didn’t want to write them haha.

Content warning: ignorant/rude comments about individuals with mental illnesses and language akin to that of the show

Tami had almost said no when Cory asked to bring her new boyfriend to the Gallagher house. Between the Gallagher and Tamietti families, there were going to be plenty of big personalities under one roof, as is. But Cory had actually asked this time, and she had just babysat Fred during a last minute highlight appointment. Tami had reluctantly agreed and her sister had seemed so happy that she almost forgot her hesitation.

Looking back, Tami’s decision was questionable. Lip had been able to prepare his family for the rest of the Tamietti’s, explaining the family dynamics and topics to avoid. Chad was a wildcard.

He had burst through the front door laughing loudly beside Brad and Cami, who didn’t seem to think the joke was as funny as Chad did. Cory and Bob followed them in, annoyance clear on Bob’s face. Tami and Lip moved to the door to greet their visitors, Tami depositing Fred in Carl’s lap, where he was sitting on the couch. Carl immediately grabbed the toddler under his arms, grinning at him and lifting him up above his head, making propellor noises on his way down.

This, this is what Tami had wanted her family to see. The Tamiettis had made it clear that while they tolerated Lip, they thought Tami could do better. They thought he was ill equipped to help raise a family, constantly doubting his ability to provide, and his dedication to his family. Tami had tried to explain Lip’s role in his own family- the patriarch of the Gallagher home, a man who had been taking care of people for his entire life. Perhaps the only way for the other Tamiettis to see the value in the Gallagher side of Fred’s family, was to observe it first hand.

Lip made it to the Tamiettis first, shaking Bob’s hand and taking the handful of bags and jackets that were thrust into his arms.

“No show Brad!” Tami cheered, hugging her sisters, “You made it!”

Brad rolled his eyes, lightly clapping Tami on the shoulder, “Yeah, yeah, I’m here.”

Cory turned towards her sister, a wide smile on her face, “Tam, this is Chad, the guy I was telling you about?”

Tami turned to shake his hand, finally giving him a good look. Truth be told, he looked like every other guy Cory had seriously dated- some tall, brunette, conventionally attractive, straight laced kind of guy. He didn’t seem any different from the other business majors, fraternity boys and bar bouncers that Cory had intruded her to.

“Tami right? So great to meet you, thanks for inviting me!”

“Of course, nice to meet you too! Come on in, you guys!”

The Tamiettis settled into the living room, Cami choosing the seat next to Carl, cooing down to Fred, “There’s my favorite nephew! How are you sweet boy?”

She ran a gentle hand across Fred’s head before introducing herself to Carl, “I’m Cami, Tami’s sister.” Carl swallowed a smirk at the rhyming names, nodding, “Carl, Lip’s brother.”

“Ah, the one buying the house?”

“Nah, that’s Ian and Mickey, they’re upstairs somewhere. I’m the cop,” Carl stated proudly.

“Fuck the police!” Mickey’s voice called into the living room in response, as a flash of red and black hair came tumbling down the stairs. All the Tamiettis turned to watch Mickey jog through the living room with Franny on his shoulders, Ian chasing after them.

“Get him Uncle Mickey!” Franny squealed, “He’s gonna catch us!”

“I’m a little busy running, kid. Hit ‘em or somethin’,” Mickey grunted, scrambling to hand his niece a rubber ball previously balanced on the back of the couch.

Franny wound up her arm, tossing the ball at Ian’s head with all her six year old might, “Take that, Uncle Ian! You’re dead!”

Ian groaned dramatically, clutching his face and sliding onto the ground. He let out a theatrical sign and closed his eyes, finally defeated.

Franny cheered as Mickey lifted her off his shoulders, “We did it! We killed him!” Franny dropped down to the ground to check that Ian had accepted his defeat, poking him in the back with the toe of her shoe.

Mickey gave her a crinkly grin, the kind he reserved for Franny and Ian alone- unguarded and childlike. “Sure did! Pretty badass if you ask me.”

Ian got to his feet, tickling Franny’s stomach as he addressed the room, “Hey, sorry we were in the middle of… a game.”

“Liquor store robbery!” Franny cheerfully announced.

Franny began introducing herself to the unfamiliar faces, sharing that she was in the first grade, enjoyed playing with guns, and wanted to be a welder like her mommy when she grew up. As Liam and Debbie descended the stairs, and the rest of the Gallaghers and Tamiettis introduced themselves, Tami marveled at how smoothly things seemed to be going. No one was yelling, or aggressively drunk, or making a thinly veiled classist comment- yet.

The two families quickly settled into a comfortable chatter of introductions and the conversation, surprisingly, continued to flow without a hitch. They soon made their way outside, where Debbie and Bob chatted while manning the grill. The other family members scattered across the yard- Liam sat in a lawn chair typing on a laptop, occasionally asking Lip for grammar advice. Ian, in the middle of telling some wild story from his EMT days, was fully emerged in conversation with the rest of the Tamietti family while Mickey and Carl considered how many crimes Carl could theoretically arrest him for, arguing over how many years Mickey would have to serve.

Everything was great- until Chad decided to open his mouth. They had finished dinner and were crammed into the living room, escaping the Chicago windchill. Chad was sharing one of his own work stories from the construction site he worked on, describing a man who had wandered onto the site and started yelling at Chad and some of his coworkers that week.

“Totally off his rocker,” Chad commented, “He kept telling us about how we were tearing down his house, and that he didn’t give us permission to do this. Just screaming at us, swearing, and he wouldn’t listen when we kept telling him that he trespassing, y’know? Just super crazy- needed a fucking Xanax or something.”

Ian tensed, fiddling with the ring on his left hand while the other Gallaghers exchanged pointed glances. Tami began to interrupt, clearly in attempt to change the subject, but Chad continued.

“The next day,” he explained, “the very next day, he came up to us and was asking to bum a smoke, like he didn’t fucking flip his crazy ass on us yesterday, I swear he must’ve been like bipolar or something, acting like we were old pals. Must’ve gotten carted off or killed or something, haven’t seen him since.”

While the Tamiettis offered a polite chuckle, the Gallaghers remained silent.

Mickey, who had been sitting on the couch next to Ian, looked up from his folded hands. “So you got something against bipolar people? It’s a fucking mental illness man.”

Chad smiled, backtracking, “Hey, nah, calm down. He’s just some crazy homeless dude, who cares?”

“He’s not just some crazy guy, he’s a person with a disease, the fuck’s wrong with you?” Mickey asked.

Ian placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder shaking his head. “Mick, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”

Eyebrows raised comically high, Mickey stood and crossed his arms. “Um, fuck that, it does matter! You’re not a fucking punchline Ian. This is our house, yours and mine, and no one’s going to be talking like that in my house. Obviously no one else is going to say something, and you shouldn’t have to, so I will. I won’t stand for that shit.”

The Tamiettis exchanged horrified looks as the Gallaghers mostly just looked at the floor. Finally Lip spoke up from where he was standing by the TV, “Mental health is uh… a sensitive subject around here. We just… we take it seriously, y’know? First hand experiences and shit.”

Cory opened her mouth to speak but she quickly stopped when she saw Tami swiftly shake her head in her direction, suggesting she stay out of it.

Mickey lightly rubbed his eyebrow, “Yo, douchebag, apologize or get the hell out of my house.”

Chad raised his hands in surrender, “I didn’t realize it was such a big deal man, sorry.”

Mickey rolled his eyes with a huff, turning on his heel to walk towards the back of the house. Wordlessly, Ian followed him out the back door, leaving the living room in a heavy silence.

After a moment, Chad breaks the silence, “Look, I really didn’t mean to start something, I was just telling a story. Should I go out and apologize again, try to talk about it?”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Liam replied, “You should give Mickey some time to cool off.”

“Yeah,” Lip agreed, “I wouldn’t follow them out. Mickey… he gets protective? Always has been, of Ian. Our mom was bipolar, and so’s Ian. He’s stable, doing great, but he’s, uh, he’s been through a lot. It’s just not good joke material around here.”

Chad nodded, silence overtaking the room again. Franny looked up from her coloring book, clearly bored with the turn the night had taken.

“I’m gonna go play with Uncle Mickey and cheer him up!”

Debbie chuckled from her seat across the room, “Yeah, go bring them some beers Franny.”

“Okay!” Franny chirped, hopping to her feet and skipping into the kitchen. Debbie gave a soft smile as she watched her daughter, on the way to hang out with her favorite uncles.

From his seat on the back stairs, Ian watched Mickey pace through the yard, grumbling about “Fucking Northside yuppies… and their ignorant bigoted asses… what the fuck is wrong with people?” He glanced over at Ian, his expression softening when he noticed the defeated look on Ian’s face. Mickey paused his pacing, coming to sit next to Ian on the steps.

“I’m sorry, I know I prolly embarrassed you. Was I out of line man? I just got so fucking mad,” Mickey quietly mumbled, looking down at his hands in his lap.

Ian gently shook his head, “Don’t apologize. You weren’t out of line… I think I’m just disappointed, y’know? That comments like that still get to me? I should be over it by now, every reminder that I’m sick or different shouldn’t still sting like that. And why do I have to be the one that the conflict and the drama revolves around? Why not fucking Carl or Liam or god… anyone else just for once?

Mickey’s expression softened even further. He nudged his knee into Ian’s leg, “What’s that shit you told me when Terry died? Trauma doesn’t always make fucking sense and recovery isn’t… oh shit, what’s the word? Linear! Recovery isn’t linear. Doesn’t make you fucking weak, just means you’ve been through some shit.”

“Yeah. I guess it was easier to tell you that than it is to tell myself.”

Mickey hummed in agreement and the two sat in silence for a moment before the back door creaked open. A tiny red head shoved her way through the doorway, arms wrapped tightly around two bottles, frosty with condensation. Franny sat down on the steps between them, silently handing her uncles their beers. Ian accepted his with a dry chuckle, thanking her. Mickey ruffled her hair, offering a small smile. The voices from inside had faded and the night was relatively calm, other than the occasional siren or dog barking.

Franny, not looking particularly concerned, looked up at them to ask, “Uncle Mickey, why’d you get mad at that guy?”

Mickey rubbed at his eyebrow and let out a sigh. He looked towards Ian, a silent request for him to take the lead on this conversation. He was confident in his ability to discuss the stupidity of princesses or the importance of wearing gloves during a legitimate liquor store robbery with his niece. He knew how to play, and joke, and how to be there when she woke up from a bad dream, stumbling down the stairs with bedhead and snotty tears. Mickey had grown into his role as an uncle, but he still doubted his ability to talk about the tough stuff with anyone other than Ian.

Ian cleared his throat, taking a second before asking, “Franny, do you know what it means to make a joke at someone else’s expense?”

Franny’s eyebrows scrunched together and she shook her head.

“It’s when you make a joke to kind of make fun of someone else. Like to tease them. Y’know how we make cop jokes around Uncle Carl because he’s a cop?”

She nodded, and Ian continued, “That guy… Aunt Tami’s sister’s boyfriend, was making a joke and it ended up being at my expense. That’s what made Uncle Mickey mad. He didn’t mean to make fun of me, but he kind of did. That’s all. Uncle Mickey was just sticking up for me.”

Franny sat for a moment, deep in thought. “I didn’t know he was talking about you.”

“No, he wasn’t. Not directly. He was telling a story about someone else. But he made a comment about him being bipolar. D’you remember when we talked about that? That I have bipolar disorder?”

Franny nodded, “That’s why you take your special medicine.”

Ian continued, “A lot of people don’t really understand what that means, and sometimes they make jokes about it that aren’t really funny. They’re just kind of… mean. So that’s why we got upset.”

Franny considered this for a minute and asked, “Do you want me to go tell mommy? She says I should tell her if someone’s being mean. She can fix it.”

Ian smiled a little, patting her little back and shaking his head, “Nah, mommy already knows, she heard. And I think Uncle Mickey did a pretty good job telling him that what he said was wrong.”

Mickey let out a sarcastic laugh, “And I got more to say to that piece of shit if I ever see his Northside yuppy fucking face again.”

“I think he got the point Mick,” Ian sighed, “Don’t waste your time.”

Franny shrugged “Mommy and Uncle Lip and Aunt Tami were all still talking in there when I left. Mommy told me it was a good idea for me to come out here.”

Mickey grabbed Ian’s hand, bumping their shoulders together. “Whatcha wanna do, man? We can head back to the apartment, go to the Alibi and get tanked, I don’t care, it’s up to you.”

“Don’t know, I’m tired of running from things. And you were right Mick, it’s our fucking house. Could we just sit out here for a little while?” Mickey ran a thumb across Ian’s hand and mumbles so quietly, in that voice he only uses with Ian- “‘Course we can”

Having completed her task of delivering beers, Franny stood up and put her hands on her hips, “I’m going to go inside, I won’t let anyone be mean to you Uncle Ian.”

Ian looked up to lock eyes with his niece, “I appreciate it Fran, thanks.”

She stood up and gave Ian a kiss on the top of his head, no doubt a gesture she’d picked up from some other family member, likely Mickey or Fiona. Ian smiled as she turned away to walk back into the kitchen.

After a few minutes Ian jerked his head towards the door, “Y’ready?”

Mickey hummed in agreement, standing and offering back his hand to help Ian up. They walked over the threshold of the kitchen into a conversation clearly about Mickey’s exchange with Chad. The Tamiettis were all sitting down in the living room, with the Gallaghers mostly standing, leaning against the various remaining surfaces. Lip’s hands were in his hair, a plain indication of his frustration and exhaustion. Tami abruptly stopped talking, in the middle of what seemed like an impassioned rant. She seemed unsure of how to continue now that Ian and Mickey had reentered the house. Debbie, sat on the couch with Franny in her lap, was scowling, while Liam absently stared at the wall, clearly wishing he were anywhere else. Carl quickly walked into the kitchen from where he had been leaning up against the living room door frame, clapping Ian on the shoulder.

“Hey, why don’t you guys go take a walk or something for a sec- I think Lip and Tami have it handled.”

Lip spoke up from the living room, “Yeah, it’s okay.”

Mickey tensed, bracing himself. “No, it’s not fucking okay Phillip-“

Lip grumbled something about that not being what he meant, shaking his head, while Ian quietly interrupted his husband, forcing him to make eye contact.

“No, it’s not, but I don’t want to just keep going over it, Mick. I’m not in the mood to educate him. I’m not saying it’s okay, but I want to move on. Lip can handle it.”

Carl nodded and repeated himself, “Go take a walk, come back in ten. Lip and Tami got it.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a joint and pressing it into Ian’s palm with a smirk.

“Rolled this for later, you guys take it.”

Ian raised an eyebrow at Mickey, who let out a sigh with a slouch, “Fine. Be back in ten.”

The two of them return to the backyard, Tami’s yelling resumed, her voice carrying all the way outside.

“M’sorry, I know I keep talkin’ when you just want it to be over with,” Mickey mumbled, looking down at the dead grass in the vacant lot beside the house.

Ian grabbed him by the back of his neck, fingers brushing through Mickey’s short hair, “Hey, no. I… I appreciate you sticking up for me- seriously. I’m just tired… tonight’s not supposed to be about me y’know? It’s supposed to be about Lip and Tami, and Fred, not me. I just wanted to be Lip’s brother tonight, not the crazy brother, the sick brother. I just don’t wanna be the one that causes the issues anymore.”

“You didn’t cause this Ian. You being bipolar didn’t fucking cause this- that asshole, opening his mouth and not knowing when to shut it- that’s what caused it. I get that you just wanna let it go, and I will, but if he say’s something else-“

“If he says something else you can beat the shit out of him.”

Mickey grinned, looking up to meet Ian’s gaze. “Fucking fantastic. You wanna smoke this bitch?”

He grabbed the joint out of Ian’s hand and pulled a lighter from his flannel’s front pocket.

Ian finally cracked a smile, one that actually reaches his eyes, “Free weed? Fuck yeah.”

Mickey tossed the lighter to Ian, who caught it and lit the joint with a practiced flick. He took a couple hits and closed his eyes, smiling again as he exhaled the smoke. He handed the lit joint over to Mickey, along with his lighter and jerked his head in the direction of the van in the backyard, “Wanna go sit?”

Mickey nodded and breathed in a sharp inhale, heading in the direction of the passenger seat door.

Ian climbed up into the drivers seat, letting out a deep sigh, “Feel like I’m in high school again- sneaking around with you, trying to find somewhere to be alone.” Mickey chuckled and passed the joint back over.

They smoked in silence for a while, Ian nudging Mickey with his elbow as the ember approaches the filter, “You want the last hit?”

“Nah man, that’s yours,” Mickey shakes his head.

Ian took it, stubbing out the butt on the van’s dashboard and tossing it onto the floor.

“Still wanna kick his ass?” He asked, lazily turning his head towards Mickey with a grin.

Mickey rolled his eyes, “I think I can contain myself.”

“Yeah?” Ian breathed, inching his face closer to his husband’s. The moon, freshly risen, highlighted Ian’s face, illuminating the dash of freckles across his nose.

Mickey didn’t answer, opting to close the distance between them, pressing a soft kiss to Ian’s lips. Ian’s hand came up to cradle Mickey’s face, thumb gently brushing his cheek.

And if they didn’t make it back inside for a while, so be it.

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xo-cuteplosion-xo · 3 years

Text

Midnight ball | Chuuya x reader |

Midnight Ball | Chuuya x reader | (female reader)

I feel like I'm doing Chuuya dirty with this one-

Warnings- references to some NSFW themes, inferred attempted rape, mentions of drug use.

(really hesitant on actually posting this... nothing happens, but I don't wanna make people too uncomfortable)

Undercover missions were normal in the port mafia. Every once in a while they would come up. You went on a lot of these missions. Even the ones you didn’t care for.

The air was brisk, not too cold, but not a comfortable warmth either. It wasn’t every day you were called in on what should have been your day off. The clouds covered the noon sun, keeping its warmth tucked away. It felt as if it may rain. Maybe snow would fall with how cold the air was. The trees were bare of their leaves and the grass slowly warping to brown. The winter flowers, in full bloom. You shivered tugging the scarf closer as you walked towards the black buildings. Stepping inside was bliss, the air warm and welcoming. You walked slowly towards the elevator stepping inside as it carried you to the level Mori’s office was.

Making your way into the office, your eyes landed on the short male you had become close to. Running a hand through your hair you looked to Mori. “Ya know it’s my day off right? This better be important.” you had guts talking to your boss like this. Elise snickered from the corner of the large room, drawing a picture. Most likely something rather disturbing, as she tended to do.

You hadn’t noticed it before, but Chuuya’s face was contorted in both disgust and anger. Whatever this was, gave him quite displeasure. “He’s having us go undercover. Instead of picking another female… he’s making me wear a fucking dress.” his eyes narrowed in Mori's direction.

“Well, you work well with (y/n). I carefully considered members like Kouyou, but none of them matched what I needed for the minor mission." Mori grinned as Chuuya huffed, crossing his arms.

You tried to imagine him in a dress, but the only thing that you could think of was Kouyou, considering they did both have ginger hair. Shrugging you grabbed Chuuya’s hand, tugging him away. You figured he could brief you on the mission later.

As the sun fell under the horizon, and the moon took its place in night's embrace, the two of you settled inside the limo. Chuuya’s arms were crossed as he tugged on the dress. His eyes set in heavy glares. His hair happened to be up in a neat bun. It had taken a lot of fighting and shouting that could have deafened somebody. He was even dolled up with light specks of makeup. The red dress suited his form, his height made it ideal for heels. He already had a feminine figure, so there wasn’t much you needed to do to pass him as a female. He kept squirming around glaring at you. “How the fuck do girls wear these dreaded things.” he hissed, referring to the corset hidden beneath the silk he wore.

Snickering you shrugged leaning back. “They say beauty is pain,” you hummed, leaning back in your seat. This wasn’t ideal for you either. You much preferred to be slightly dressed down from this. Looking as fancy as you did now wasn’t modest, and it sure wasn’t something you liked to wear. You were sucking it up so why couldn’t Chuuya? Could he really be all that uncomfortable? “I could loosen it a bit.” you offered, but Chuuya shook his head staring at himself. He had mastered heals within a handful of moments so you weren’t worried about him tripping. The real challenge would be flirting with the target.

This was a two-person job due to the size of the party and the security around the target. One of you would distract the guards while the other smooth-talked their way into a private area with the target. They would either get the extent of the information this person had managed to take early this morning or silence him. You two hadn’t decided who would be doing what. It was more one of those whoever gets there first situations. The car pulled up to the entrance just as your thoughts finished. Stepping onto the ground you waited for Chuuya. The clunk of his heels on the pavement were steady and even. You went to remind him about his expression, but he rolled his eyes. “I know, no scowling, glaring, or yelling.”

You smiled gripping the edge of the dress, pulling it up so you could walk the stairs without tripping on the (f/c) fabric. Your hair was down but pinned in specific places. “Don’t forget, no swearing. We have to act ladylike Chu.” clicking his tongue, he pinched the fabric of his dress and walked up after you. Entering the large mansion you were escorted to the ballroom. Standing at the railing that overlooked the floor you smiled. Never in your life had you been to one of these. You truly wanted to participate at least a little.

Chuuya noticed the excited glimmer of your eyes and grabbed your hand. Tonight, you both were trying to pass as two female teenage siblings whose parents wanted a night alone. Without a boyfriend, the two of you showed up alone. A naive action when it came to noble parties. These were incredible to get into. You had to have power and money somewhere. He pulled you down the stairs, flashing you a small smile. He wouldn’t admit but this wasn’t that bad. He didn’t mind the corset or the way the dress flowed in the wind. He minded the hair since he always wore it in one specific style. He’d done this once before with Dazai but doing this with you was different. Probably because he wasn’t being forced to be the fiance this time. “We might as well try to enjoy ourselves.” he was surprisingly skilled at keeping his voice higher in pitch. There were a few occasional slips, but he sounded somewhat feminine.

Smirking you pulled him to the food table. “I’d say you're actually enjoying yourself Chu.” his eyes narrowed for a second before playfully hitting your shoulder.

“Sure I am.” he huffed looking over the table of snacks. He grabbed one of the tea-sandwiches and took small bites. Despite how he tried to enjoy himself, he was focused on the mission. There was still no sign of the target. Two older-looking gentlemen came up to the pair of you, holding their hands out.

“Would you two care for a dance?” Chuuya’s mouth twitched to snarl, but he quickly put on a smile despite how much he wanted to string profanities. You glanced at him, inhaling softly, you tapped his shoulder as if to reassure him.

“Depends~ how old do you think we are?” you two had decided on your roles already. To spare Chuuya some dignity you would try to be the more seductive while he played the part of the shyer, more innocent twin. Since he was a boy playing a girl, he matched the innocent child-like stereotype well, considering he didn’t have breasts.

One of the men standing in front of you chuckled lightly. “Teens, though it’s not like we're hitting on you. We simply wish to take you for a dance. You appear lonely.” Chuuya was sick to his stomach already. The last time he’d done this he didn’t have to deal with these situations because Dazai had been there. Yet, as he looked to you, he tilted his head. Your hand grabbed the man's as you looked back to Chuuya.

“Trust me, it’ll be fun. There aren't any men our age, so trust me.” the act flew softly off your lips. There was a hidden motion when you flicked your ankle. It would have passed as your feet were slightly sore to anybody else. Chuuya glanced to the railing, spotting the target. He nodded, faking a smile as the two of you entered the dance floor.

With every pulse of the music, you got closer and closer to the edge. Your eyes tracing for the amount of guards. Though based on what you were observing you had both already found them. It was a widely known fact your target had a thing for younger females. Not young like Elise but teenagers who appear frail. You and Chuuya most definitely looked the part tonight. Dipping you back your eyes met Chuuya's, a smirk crossing both of your expressions. When you returned to the normal position you switched partners.

Things started going slightly south from there. While you two had managed to keep your dancing rather close to one another, you were starting to drift apart now. Chuuya moved closer to the stairwell, while you made your way towards the back doors. Despite how you tried to move back towards him, your dance partner kept you moving in that direction. Eventually, you noted what was going on. Occasionally these types of missions had unexpected twists. This was one of those twists. You hadn’t thought to watch for other predators. Trying to rip your hands from his you glared. “I ought to get back to my sister.” you wove innocence into your voice, but he paid no mind as if he had not heard you. As the music ended, the rough grip that had succeeded in pulling the two of you apart let go. A silent satisfactory smirk placed over his lips. Walking from you he headed back to find another dancing partner.

Walking around you began to search for Chuuya among the crowd. Innocently asking couples and other women if they had seen a short, rather young-looking female ginger dressed in red. They had shaken their heads but one couple pointed towards the stairs. You curtsied respectfully, racing to the stairs only to be stopped by the two men you had previously been dancing with. Batting your eyelashes you explained somebody had seen your sister walk up these stairs not too long ago.

You couldn’t help but feel worried despite knowing Chuuya could handle himself with the utmost care. He was strong both physically and ability-wise. You bit the inside of your cheek figuring, they probably weren't idiots. If they had separated the two of you they had to think you already knew something was up. You'd probably made that worse when you tried pulling away in the dance. The high-heels were beginning to get rather annoying. They were difficult to run in, jumping would probably result in a twisted ankle if you don't land perfectly. You made sure to blend away into the crowd. Losing their eyes you slipped through doors until you made it into a hallway. Laying out the map of the building in your head you walked the halls trying to find the staircase leading upstairs. You had to dodge behind corners to avoid security. It took you close to ten minutes to finally reach the stairs. There were so many rooms it would be difficult to find which one to enter. You narrowed it down to two in your head. The others would be a waste of time, the two you had narrowed it to were close to the ballroom, small, and were bar areas. Off-limits to party-goers as well. There would be no interruptions to their perverted actions.

You looked around, spotting a guard, you gripped the edge of your glove with your teeth. Walking up as if you were scared you began to stumble purposely over words. “I-i think I’m lost. I needed the ladies room and I couldn't find my sis or the ballroom.” faking tears as you got closer, the security officer's eyes softened as you approached. Taking you as a younger female instead of an adult, he offered out his hand. You gripped it before smirking as your ability activated. Moving your hand away, you tilted your head. “Sleep,” you commanded them. They fell to the floor with a thud. Grabbing the gun from their belt you checked that the safety was on. Assured it was you stashed it in your dress. Walking to the first room you burst inside finding no sign anybody had been there, you closed the door.

Making your way to the next option you pressed an ear to the door. Whispers and the sound of metal sent you to a light panic. Glaring at the door you pulled the gun out and switched the safety off. Entering the room you pointed the gun only to hear clicks follow. Your eyes darted to the sound. “So there were four.” snarling you entered and shut the door with your heel. Your mind began thinking of every way to get away from this situation. You lowered your gun with a defeated sigh. Letting it drop to the floor, one of the guns pressed to your head. Their hand grabbed your wrist as you looked to the mop of passed-out ginger.

“Damn idiot,” you hissed knowing this was probably the result of drugging. There was no way in hell he’d be beaten by mere ability-less scum. Shoved to the floor you glared. Your hands were pulled above you. Looking to the side you snickered at the poor idiot who touched your skin. “Kill your boss,” you commanded and their body dropped you and turned to the person whose hands were on your love interest. When the next guy pointed the gun at you, you swept them off their feet, whistled, and pointed. “Shoot them.” with another fire, two of three were dead. “Now shoot yourself.” and so they ended up three of three. Tossing off the heels you made your way over to Chuuya. Checking his pulse you rolled your eyes.

You lifted him in your arms before leaving the bloody scene. Your dress was now stained with splatters of crimson. Jumping from the window, then to a tree, and down, you placed Chuuya in the limo. Grabbing a bottle of water you opened his mouth and poured it down his throat. He stirred a bit, his head falling on your shoulder. Blushing lightly you found the back of his dress was open and the corset already loosened. “Got there just in time.” you sighed as the limo pulled to your small apartment. Lifting him you carried him inside. Dropping him to the bed you sat on the opposite side of the bed.

It took three hours before his eyes fluttered open. Holding his head, he glanced at you. “Why the fuck are you here?” of course his first words would be aggressive. He could hide it all he wanted by the shiver of his body and the way his hands moved to his back made it clear. Finding the strings and ribbon undone as well as torn his eyes widened for a fraction.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to be separated like that.” you played around with your gloves looking back at him you pulled a thing of makeup wipes from the side table. Tossing it to him, you sighed. “I hope you don’t mind, I had Dazai lock pick your door and get you your usual clothes.” he couldn’t even be mad at you for letting that bastard into his house. His mind was still focused on recollecting what had happened. He was beyond humiliated. He should have seen it coming. “I should have gotten there faster. They shouldn’t have been able to even get that close. I’m so sorry Chuuya! I’ll talk to Mori about not putting you on these types of missions. I know you're mad but please… say something.” you twirled a strand of your hair on your finger.

“I should have been prepared.” he looked away from you before feeling your arms around his body. Your head laid in the crook of his neck as you shook your head violently. He felt something wet soil, the shoulder of his dress. Turning so he could pick your head up, he blinked, startled to see the water dripping from your eyes. “You’re crying?” he sounded baffled, confused even.

“I should have let you be yourself! If I hadn’t pushed you to act like an innocent defenseless child, that situation would have been different.'' Chuuya gripped your shoulders laughing lightly as he shook his head. “You didn’t even have a good time! You hated being there.”

“No, no, (y/n)... I... Fuck!” he was bad at words, so as he tried forming the correct words he kept shaking his head. “I enjoyed spending time with you! I’d prefer to accompany you as a man next time. Neither of us are at fault. Missions go south. Nobody got hurt, sure I feel like an idiot, I’m utterly humiliated that I let my guard down and got drugged up, but nothing happened.” he pressed his forehead against yours, his thumb wiping away the tears on your cheeks.

This was out of character for him, but it was a side only you gotta see. He hated seeing you break down or get upset over things you had no control over. His hands wrapped around your ungloved ones. Your skin touches him with a small shyness. “Can I?” he asked watching you nod as his lips passed over yours.

“We both deserve a break from work. How about we tell Mori we are taking two days off?” you hummed looking into his eyes. He smirked and nodded. His lips pressing back to yours in a heated kiss. You pressed him underneath you with a smirk. His face went red as he glared.

“You’re a fucking pervert.” he hissed watching you snicker.

“Wow Chu, I'm so offended.” you leaned back into a kiss as his cheeks turned a brighter shade of red. “Think this makes us a real couple.” he rolled his eyes as you rolled to lay next to him.

“Yeah, I guess.”

#chuuya #chuuya x reader #bsd #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya fluff

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stardust-kenobi · 4 years

Text

Early Arrival

Obi Wan Kenobi x Gender Neutral Reader

Scenario: Master Kenobi requested that you, his padawan, attend a Jedi Council meeting with him. You arrive to his quarters early, but your master was not expecting your punctuality.

Warnings: male masturbation, vanilla smut, fluff :’)

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: I worked on this all day and it would’ve been posted sooner but tumblr yet again fucked me so I lost a lot of progress. So please forgive any errors or weird wording. I did my best :( anywho I am so soft for this man. This story went in a totally different direction than I intended but I kinda like it.

You stand there, head tilted, as you check your appearance in the mirror one final time before departing your room. Your hands brush down the side of your body against the sleek cloth of your robes. You worried not how you presented yourself to just anyone, but specifically how you presented yourself to him.

If being a Jedi in training wasn’t challenging enough, your master happened to be one of the most breathtaking and charming men in the galaxy. Concentrating around Master Kenobi was more difficult than learning the art of being in touch with the force. What made it all even more challenging was the sudden self-realization that you had accidentally fallen in love with him. You thought it would pass with time, that it was only a fleeting moment, but it had been weeks, and your love for him only grew stronger. You had to constantly suppress your feelings around him because you feared that he could sense it.

This was the first break from physical training you had been granted in weeks. But your time was still accounted for. Today was the first time you’d sit in on a council meeting. As part of your training, Master Kenobi wanted you to understand how the meetings were conducted and what to expect if you ever found yourself a seat on the council one day. Your master took to you very quickly. Throughout your time together, based on your careful observations, he seemed more lively and attentive to you than anyone else he interacts with. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered at the mere though of going to his private quarters.

You glance at your clock, it’s an hour before you were instructed to arrive. You had unintentionally prepped yourself way too early.

I could arrive early. You think to yourself. That might please him.

You occasionally wondered if he’d thought about you in the way you so often thought of him. Gods, you couldn’t help but envision your hands entwined in his luscious, silky hair while he made passionate love to you. How sweet he’d sound moaning your name in pleasure. How gentle he’d be with your body.

No, Master Kenobi would never act so unprofessionally. He’d never reveal any attraction to his padawan, if he felt any at all, let alone act upon those feelings. You knew your recurrent fantasies were just that: fantasies. And having fantasies never hurt anyone, right? You shake your head as if to actually physically shake the intimate thoughts out of your mind.

“Focus, y/n” you whisper.

You gather yourself both emotionally and physically and travel through the luxurious halls of the temple to arrive at the elevators that will bring you to his floor. You take a very deep and audible breath while stationary on the elevator that was occupied only by yourself and your nerves.

The elevator loudly indicates that you’ve arrived at Master Kenobi’s floor. No matter how many times you have been around this man, you always seemed to be as nervous as you were during the previous encounter. Today was no different.

You stepped lightly through the lengthy distance between the elevator doors and Master Kenobi’s quarters. At the moment, he was the only one who occupied this section of this particular floor. The silence is usually deafening when you’re up here, but today...something was different.

Your pace was slow. There was obviously no need to rush. Then something caught your attention. With every step you took, you increasingly heard a low and inconsistent humming sound came from his quarters. A puzzled look was plastered onto your face.

He must be talking with someone. You think to yourself. It sounded like muffled voices.

This assumption slightly eased your nerves considering this meant you wouldn’t be alone with him. You exhale a subtle sigh of relief and picked up your pace. The humming slowly became more distinguishable as you closed the distance between you and the door.

Your entire mood was quickly transformed when you found yourself only several feet from the door. Your body came to a screeching halt at what you were able to distinguish from the continued sounds coming from the room. You peer your head closer and notice the door is slightly ajar.

“Oh, darling” you hear a deep moan escaping the crack in the door. It was Master Kenobi’s voice. You silently gasp as you attempt to get closer without alerting him of your presence. Was he with someone? Even the idea of this sent a flash of heated jealousy through your body while simultaneously piquing your curiosity.

“Yes, right there love” a breathless moan trailed the end of his quiet exclamation. You finally inch yourself close enough to peek into the room. Your heartbeat begins to rapidly race at what meets your eyes. You saw your Master in a state you’d only ever witnessed within the bounds of your sexual fantasies.

What little you could view revealed Obi Wan’s bare, broad, manly chest glistening with streams of his sweat. His mouth dropped slightly open, eyes gently shut, his head rested on his pillow, hair slicked back, still dripping wet from his shower. The door was blocking everything below his elbows, preventing you from determining whether or not he was alone. A daring shuffle of your feet allowed you to get a better view. The butterflies in your stomach suddenly migrated in between your thighs.

He was alone. Not a single piece of clothing clinging to his body. A soft moan that only you could hear rolled off your tongue. He lay on his bed, doing something you never imagined a Jedi would do. His large, strong right hand gripped his fully erect cock. He stroked his large length up and down at a steady motion, taking his time with his pleasure. You knew it was wrong to stay. You knew you should quietly turn around and leave. But how could you dare leave such a beautiful sight?

“Y/n...little one...you feel so good” he mutters through his soft, deep, passionate moans. You slapped a hand to your mouth to intercept the gasp that was instinctively leaving your mouth. He was thinking of...YOU. The warmth growing between your legs began to pulse and ache, demanding that you give it attention and relief. You bring your hand that wasn’t restricting your airflow to your core. You wasted no time to start slow. You rubbed your core firm and quickly, knowing that this sight in front of you would get you to orgasm quicker than any fantasy previously existing in your mind.

Your hand continued to muffle your moans and you watch his hand move faster. He was getting close and you could tell. He was so much bigger than you had imagined. You’d never wanted a man to take you and fuck you more than you did Master Kenobi. You wanted to barge into the room so badly and let him have his way with you, but you stay in your place by the door and pleasure yourself with him.

As his pace grew faster you could see his body became increasingly more restless. His hips bucked with his movements. His deep moans were mixed with whimpers and whines. He was so desperate to cum while imaging that he was absolutely ravaging you.

“Y/n...y/n...don’t stop” he moaned so softly into the empty air. The hand that was not stroking his cock was rested behind his head now, revealing his striking biceps that made you melt even further.

“Oh, y/n, you’re so beautiful” he lowered to a softer, more whisper. So delicate with his words. Your name flowed off his lips like honey. You got so close to your orgasm but you wanted to wait for him to reach his as well. The lust and pleasure overflowing in your body outweighed the feelings of guilt for invading his privacy. But to be fair, he did leave the door open.

“Fuck, yes, y/n, yes darling” he groaned louder than before. He was so close. His cock was twitching between his tight grip. His free hand moved to grip the sheets to brace for his climax. You rubbed your sensitive core faster to match his increased rhythm. Your breathing picked up as you felt a knot build in your core. You whimper into your hand as you feel yourself begin to fall apart under your own touch. If it had not been for Obi Wan’s loud orgasm masking the sounds of your uncontrollable moans, he surely would've heard you.

His mouth opened wider than before into an O shape and his legs began to to shake as he pumped himself harder and faster. His eyes were shut tight to delve deeper into his fantasy.

“I’m gonna cum, y/n” he says ever so breathlessly.

With a few more shaky and firm strokes sent him over the edge. His cum spilled out from his cock as he released beautiful melodic cries of pleasure while yelling your name. You ride out your high along with him. You needed a second to gather yourself before you could even move. Disbelief overcame you as you realized how bad he must want you as well.

Obi Wan lay there motionless except the rise and fall of his glistening chest as he attempts to catch his breath. His eyes finally pry open and stare blankly at the ceiling. You needed to leave. Soon he would realize the door was open or even worse, realize you were there. As you turn to return to the elevator, your foot is caught on the buckle of your shoe and you stumble forward.

You catch yourself before you completely meet the ground, but it caused enough commotion to alert him to your presence considering he is supposed to be the only one on that section of this floor. You shut your eyes tight, knowing you’re completely screwed now.

“Uh h-hello?” He begins. So innocent and nervous. “Is someone there?” He inquires through the door.

You contemplate ignoring his call, but you realize that he will probably come to check the hallway anyways once he makes himself decent.

“It’s me...Master Kenobi.” You respond hastily. “I um, I’m a little early...so I....Im sorry I’ll just come back later” you stumble over your words and sound like a complete mess. You hear some rummaging and footsteps approach the doorway as you slowly walk back to the elevators.

“Oh...um y/n, that’s quite alright. Just give me a moment” he had peeked his head outside the door frame. He had a light robe on to cover himself temporarily. His words were shaky and unsure as he surely tried to piece together how loud he was during his moments of pleasure.

Several minutes later he returns to the hallway, appearing flushed and frustrated. He had to know, right? He knew you heard or saw something. Oh man this was going to be awkward. You flash him a soft smile while trying to avoid eye contact. He didn’t avoid it. He tried to stare into your soul. He was trying to sense something. You weren’t sure what.

“I just finished getting ready prior to when I expected and just wanted to please you by arriving early.” You explain yourself without being asked to.

His eyebrows raised in reaction to the explanation.

“My young padawan, I hate to pry, but I feel it necessary for me to ask this. When did you arrive on this floor?” He asks with a trace of concern in his tone.

“I only just arrived, master” you respond, feeling guilty for the obvious lie.

“Don’t lie to me, y/n. I can sense your dishonesty” he responds, quickly and sternly.

“I’m sorry, Master Kenobi” you swallow hard at the embarrassment of indirectly admitting that you watched him masturbate.

“How much did you see, padawan?” He inquires, his tone implying that he was embarrassed and ashamed. He still managed to try to look you in the eye.

“I saw too much, Master, I should have left. It was an invasion of your privacy” you were so incredibly mortified to be discussing this now. There was an awkward silence that felt longer than it truly was, and you stared at your feet and the shoes that blew your cover.

“Come sit, little one” He says and gestures to the lounge chairs next to you two in the hallway. He seemed to calm on the outside. You follow his lead and sit with him, you still remained the only souls in the are.

“Y/n. It’s my fault. I should have closed my door. How foolish of me...” he begins.

“No, really Master, it’s my fau-“

“Hush now. I assume that it is clear now that I have these feelings towards you. Feelings that I truly haven’t felt in years” he continues “we both know this feeling of attachment is forbidden, which makes this all the more harder to handle. But I’m just not sure that I can help myself”

“If it’s only physical desires, Master, I don’t think it’s considered an attachment” you try to console him while internally freaking out that this conversation was even happening.

“Well, my padawan, it’s not only lust.” He paused for what felt like an excruciatingly long time. “I’m in love with you” he confesses, eyes still shooting into your like daggers. Your breath and heart skip together in sync. Your eyes and mouth refused to shut with this new information that warmed your whole body.

“You don’t have to say anything” Obi Wan continues “but it’s best that you know how I feel, especially after what you’ve seen...and heard.” His head drops in shame.

You remain speechless. You loved him too. With all your heart. But you couldn’t make the words come out.

He looked up at your face again and his eyes fell disappointed at the lack of engagement on your side of the conversation. He grabbed your hands gently and held them so delicately.

“I am glad that you know how I feel, but I am so sorry that you found out this way. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t mortified right now” he sounds somber. “I can place a request for you to be assigned a new master, if that’s what you would prefer. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable” he says with genuine concern.

“No, please” You finally free the words from your mouth like it was forcefully pulled out of you. Maybe it was. “I’m not too great with words, sir... but” you stumble on your words again before thinking of a way to wrap up everything you wanted to tell him.

You lock eyes with him and hold an intense gaze for several moments. Your eyes travel to his lips, then back to his soft eyes. You move in swiftly to his face and press your lips to his expectant lips. He immediately accepts the kiss, and brings his hand to your face to hold you. He was warm and delicate against your lips and you melted into his loving touch. You had waited far too long for this very moment. And it was everything you had imagined.

The kiss was brief, but it wrapped up the very words that you wanted to say to him in that unexpected moment. You pull away slowly and could feel the smile painted on his face.

“I’m in love with you too, Obi Wan” you confess so quietly even with not a soul in sight to hear you except him. His eyes sparkled brighter than all the stars in the galaxy at the sound of those words rolling off your tongue. He chuckled softly, so pleasantly surprised at your reaction.

“I’m honored to hear you say that, y/n” He looks down at your hands that were intertwined with his own.There were more moments of silence between the two of you.

“So after this meeting, what do you say we um...continue what I accidentally saw today, hm? If that is something you want of course.” You suggest, a slight smirk on creeping onto your face.

“Oh, darling, I’d want nothing more.” He smiles ear to ear and pulls your face into his for a passionate kiss that lasted much longer than your first.

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marshmallow-phd · 3 years

Text

Healing Touch

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: Medical school abroad was the last line on your to-do list before starting the rest of your life. Everything was going according to plan. Everything, that is, until tragedy strikes your campus. In the wake of a professor’s untimely death, you’re partnered with the cute boy with a breathtaking smile in the newly combined labs. You find yourself unable to resist the dimples and shy glances, but his life is here with no plans of leaving. Will you continue on as planned or will you accept the hand that Fate had dealt you?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Final

The smell had not changed in all the years that you used to call this place home. Pinecone potpourri mixed with traditional cooking spices and a hint of citrus from the constant dusting. Your aunt had always been a bit eccentric, a bit off beat. It had made being raised by her both adventurous and anxiety-inducing.

In the privacy of your home, her random dance parties and unfiltered way of speaking made you laugh. But when you were in public and she was pretending to be a mannequin in a window display, you ran away to the food court to hide behind a cup of boba. The explanation was always the same no matter what antics she was pulling: she wanted to break you out of your shell. It seemed like a lost cause. You were comfortable in your shell. It protected you and kept you warm.

“I don’t see how you expect to go trialing off to a place you’ve never been before,” your aunt had complained when you first told her about applying to the far away college.

“They’re two entirely different situations,” you had argued. “I can go to class and go back home without any issues.” These days there was your phone if you ever got lost or in need of food but didn’t want to leave the comfort of your apartment. Modern conveniences only enabled your shut-in ways.

“But what about, you know, friends?” She looked at you over her stylish, cat-eye glasses that she had no use for with her perfect vision.

“I have those,” you insisted. So, you might not have had a best friend, but you had people that you occasionally hung out with and collaborated on. Then there was Victoria and Amber from high school. You still spoke to them regularly, despite them going to different colleges out of the area. Your aunt didn’t realize that not everyone needed multiple circles of friends to bounce between.

Pushing her glasses back up her nose, your aunt pouted. “I just worry about you, that’s all. You still don’t like getting into cars, especially by yourself, and if you happen to be studying late….”

“I don’t mind taking the bus.” A bit of a stretch. You did mind but would still take it if the situation were dire enough. Walking was good exercise. And better for the environment. Someone had to look out for the little bunnies.

“Alright,” your aunt huffed as she sipped on her now lukewarm tea. “It is your life. I’m just a spectator of it.”

“At least you have premium seating,” you teased.

That had made your aunt laugh. She was back to her more carefree self.

“Is that my favorite niece?”

“No, it’s your least favorite nephew.”

Your aunt poked her head out of the hallway, the edge of her pink fuzzy robe telling you that she was getting ready to go out.

That was the exchange the two of you always had when you came to visit. The first time around, you had rolled your eyes and given the sarcastic answer for the cliché greeting. As your mother and aunt were the only siblings in their family and your father was the single offspring from his parents, there were no other nieces or nephews to put above or below you.

Without prompt, your aunt passed through the living room and onto the kitchen. When she came back, she had two wine glasses filled with bubble pink liquid. After handing you the lesser filled glass, she sat down on the couch while you opted for the loveseat, letting your purse drop to the hardwood floor by your feet. Your aunt leaned back on the arm rest with one elbow as she sipped on the wine. “It’s watermelon,” she informed you when you hadn’t taken a drink. “Try it.”

Shaking your head, you did as she asked. Oh, no. It was delicious. That was dangerous. You took another, larger swig before putting the glass down on the coffee table.

Growing up, you’d felt bad for your aunt. Sometimes you still did, though not as much after her many lectures as to why you shouldn’t.

She’d always been the carefree one. As a marketing consultant, she was constantly flying all over the globe, having adventures in between work meetings and bringing those experiences back to you in the form of expensive souvenirs. When your parents volunteered to go help a poorer nation with their health crisis, your aunt was quick to lend her babysitting services. It was only supposed to be temporary, after all. Then tragedy struck

Your parents never came back and suddenly your aunt was now your permanent guardian. The carefree spirit took it in stride. She shifted her strategy to more web-based conferences until you were in high school and able to be on your own for longer periods of time. She never turned into your mother; she never wanted to. For that, you were even more thankful. She was still the spontaneous, forever young aunt that you had always known. That stability in her personality was exactly what you needed. Too much had changed in your world on a dime, the less that was altered the better.

“What prompted this little visit?” she asked, a curious half smile on her lips.

You shrugged. “I hadn’t seen you in a while, so I thought I’d stop by and say hi. It looks like you’re getting ready to go out, though.”

Your aunt waved her hand limply. “Not for a few hours. Besides, anything can wait for you.”

Shifting in your seat, you smiled at the affection she had for you. “I finally heard from the university,” you told her.

Her eyebrows shot up. “You did? They finally decided to stop dangling the carrot and just give it to you, did they?”

“Not exactly,” you cringed. “They said they wanted to see how this semester went and then they would let me know.”

Your aunts face fell into a scowl as if something awful smelling had made its way into her nose. “What sense does that make?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. But at least it’s not an outright no.”

Clicking her tongue, your aunt leaned forward so she was now balancing her elbows on her knees. “You know, there are still other options. Closer options.”

“I know,” you said with a monotone voice. “But Plan A is my focus. I’ll look to other options if that falls through.”

That knowing look you were all too familiar with formed on her face. A long, reminiscing sigh blew out from her lungs. “You are so much like your mother. It’s scary sometimes.”

You never knew how to respond when she said things like that. Should you be happy at the comparison? Sad because your mother wasn’t here to tell you herself? You were a child when your parents passed away. You remembered vague moments, birthday parties and movie nights. But when you’re that young, you don’t get a good idea of your parents’ personalities. You don’t learn what they like or don’t like, how they act in crowds versus a small group of people. You have to rely on the memories of those left behind.

You stayed at your aunt’s house for another hour or so, talking to her about her latest clients and nights out with the girls. You told her how your days were going and how you were adjusting to the new routine with the combined class. The news of Yixing sat on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mention him. Her reaction would have been too predictable. She’d ask when the two of you were going to go out and when you explained that it wasn’t like that, she would ask why not. For that, you didn’t have an answer.

While you wanted to say that the two of you were just friends, it didn’t feel like the truth.

You saw more of Yixing than of anyone else, including Ran. He would walk you to class multiple times a day and the two of you would talk. Not about anything too deep. You weren’t at that level yet. He was funny and charming, never speaking a word that wasn’t kind. You learned that he lived in farmhouse in the woods with eight other people, all men. He swore it was never too crowded and that he actually enjoyed the company. He got lonely easily.

He also told you about how he took a few years off of college to figure out what he wanted to do. You’d asked him how he came to the path of becoming a doctor. He said he simply wanted to do something that would help people. He thought about opening a low-income clinic once he had his degree. Suddenly your heart was pumping under your sternum. When he asked why you went pre-med, you gave a shrug and said your parents and left it at that. These conversations were usually nice and lighthearted, you didn’t want to be the downer.

Yes, spending time with Yixing was nice, the highlight of your day, sometimes. But he also felt like a secret. One that you should keep to yourself for now. Good things didn’t always last. You wanted to see if this was a long-term investment for him before you invited anyone else in.

The next day, you needed some fresh air, so you decided to take a walk in the nature center on the edge of town. Although the woods would be a no-go area since they still hadn’t caught the animal terrorizing the area, the center would be full of people and should be quite safe. It couldn’t really be considered part of the woods given the infrastructure and the observation building, could it? Deciding to go anyway, you packed your bag with a few notes, snacks, and a water bottle. As your hand landed on the doorknob to leave, your eyes fell on the jacket lying on the back of the couch.

You hadn’t worn the comforting fabric since that day. The weather had been nice and putting it on would have seemed a bit obnoxious in your eyes. But this morning the weatherman had mentioned a chilly breeze. It wouldn’t hurt.

Arms through their designated holes, you left the apartment and started the walk to the outskirts of town. It wasn’t too far of a walk, maybe thirty, forty minutes at the most. You thanked yourself for wearing the jacket. A “chilly breeze” was an understatement. A few families and couples were dotted among the trails of the nature center that wound near and over the small creek. You passed by them all until you came to a spot that was deserted. Resting your legs, you sat on a bench with your back to the trees. The sun was shining up above. The only noise seemed to come from the rustling leaves and trickling creek. It was peaceful, just what you needed.

With your bag beside you, you took out a piece of paper with yesterday’s notes and started to review them. Some of the words were smudged and the edges were already crinkling, but you could make most of it out. The paper flopped in the wind. You thought you had a good enough grip on it, but a gust of air proved you wrong.

The paper went flying over your head and straight for the trees. Panic made you jump up, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you ran after it. The wind – now relentless – was enough to keep the paper continuously out of your reach.

It finally came to a stop when it caught on a tree root sticking out in the ground. You snatched the paper up and stuffed it into the bag to keep it from running away again. Straightening up again, your eyes settled on the horizon.

Then you screamed.

Yixing’s eyes snapped open.

He was no longer a wolf. He was human again. Sitting up, he brushed off the leaves from his arms. What time was it? Was it even the same day? He’d blacked out again. At this point, it was almost routine. His only consolation prize being the fact that he was alone. He still needed to figure out what was happening to him. He wasn’t ready to take this to his brothers. There was enough to worry about at the moment.

Getting on his feet, Yixing headed in the direction of where his things were stored. In order to avoid the others wanting to run with him, he’d entered the forest from a different area, storing his things in a bush to get back to later. He flicked his jeans to get the dirt off before pulling them on and then stuffing his feet in his shoes.

A piercing cry for cut through the air.

The hair on the back of Yixing’s neck stood up.

“Help! Somebody help!”

It was your voice.

He gasped. Then he took off. If anything happened to you-

Yixing skidded to a stop when he saw you kneeling in the grass. A body was laying in front of you, the clothes ripped and stained dark. It was lying face down, but Yixing could tell that it was a man and that he’d been attacked.

“(Y/n), what happened?”

You stared at him with wide, confused eyes. “Yixing? What are you doing here?”

He ignored your question, more worried about your own wellbeing. “What happened?” he repeated.

You shook your head as you dropped your eyes to the man lying on the ground. “I don’t know. I just found him like this. He’s still breathing but I’m not strong enough to move him.”

Yixing analyzed the situation. His car was only on the other side of the trees. The man was still alive. From Yixing’s point of view, he could make it, but they needed to act fast. Slipping his arms under the man while careful not to move him too much, he picked the man up and motioned with his head for you to follow.

He said nothing and you asked no questions as the tree line broke. Yixing scanned the parking lot of the nature center until he found his car. He rushed to the vehicle with a few glances over his shoulder to make sure you were keeping up with him.

“(y/n)?”

“Yeah?” You were huffing. Had he been running? He’d tried to go at a pace that you could keep up with.

“In my front right pocket are my keys. Can you fish them out and unlock the doors?”

You nodded. Yixing could feel your fingers trembling as they slipped into the denim opening. The shaking was even more obvious once the keys were free, the house and car keys clinking together as you searched for the fob to unlock the doors. Without prompt, you opened the back door to allow Yixing to slip the man into the bench seat. He told you to get in the front. You tossed him the keys and the two of you rushed to the hospital.

A pair of doctors rushed out of the automatic doors as soon as the car pulled into the emergency entrance.

“We found him in the woods,” Yixing explained. The doctors quickly examined the man as two more nurses came out with a stretcher.

“I think that animal attacked him,” you added.

Yixing’s eyes flickered over to you with worry. The doctors nodded in acknowledgement then helped the nurses move the man to the stretcher. The two of you followed closely but were forced to stay behind in the waiting room. Yixing sat next to you in the uncomfortable plastic chairs that were connected to the wall.

“You never answered the question.”

Yixing frowned. “What question?”

You turned to look at him with your eyebrows furrowed, making him want to reach out and smooth the creases they created. “What you were doing out in the woods.”

Yixing stiffened. He pressed his foot into the tile floor to keep it from bouncing. “I was… hiking.”

“Without a shirt?”

He looked down. Crap. He hadn’t even realized that he wasn’t finished getting dressed before he took off. “I get warm easily.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. Yixing fought to keep his face neutral. It was a pathetic excuse, he knew it. But you didn’t call him out on it. Instead, you leaned forward, unzipping the polyester bomber that was easily recognizable as his own, taking it off, and holding it out to him.

“I’m fine,” Yixing said, ignoring the jacket.

“You really should put it on. I heard the front desk call the cops. They’ll be here soon, and it’ll look suspicious. What would you tell them the reason was for you not having a shirt?”

A cheeky answer came to mind. Yixing bit down to hold it back, even if it would have caused your face to heat up in an adorable fashion. The instinct of making sure his mate was okay was almost too great to ignore. You were the one who needed to stay warm, stay protected. But you had a valid point. And you were inside, out of the wind. So, he accepted the jacket and ran the zipper almost up to his neck to hide the lack of shirt underneath.

The police arrived about twenty minutes later. They separated you, making him anxious. Over the next hour or so, Yixing gave his side of the story to the officer. They took him at his word that he was strolling through the woods. The doctors had already informed the officers that the wounds were clearly animal made. While severe, they weren’t life threatening. That gave Yixing a small amount of relief.

“Would you two like to see him?” one of the nurses asked another hour later. You nodded eagerly. Yixing stayed a bit behind as the nurse led you through the halls to a large room that held several beds separated by plastic curtains.

The man was awake. Black stitches covered his arms. Three claw marks ran down the left cheek. From what Yixing knew of the other victims, this guy was lucky. He was talking to a nurse when he looked to see who his visitors were. As soon as his eyes landed on Yixing, the heart monitor spiked and his breathing quickened.

“Hey, it’s okay, these are the people who found you,” the nurse said to try and calm him down.

“Oh.” The man’s heart rate started to slow again. Each breath was deeper until they were back to normal. “I’m sorry.”

“How are you feeling?” you asked, taking a step forward. Yixing fought the urge to put himself between you and the man you’d rescued. He was probably harmless, but he had also been through a traumatic situation.

The man nodded. “I’m… alive, at least. Thank you.”

You gave a small smile. “I’m glad I came along when I did. Did you,” you bit your bottom lip nervously, “happen to see what attacked you?”

Yixing held his breath.

“It was a large gray wolf,” the man answered. “Huge. Like a mutated one you would see in the movies. He came from nowhere, knocked me down. I thought I was going to end up like the others as he clawed at me. Then he was gone.”

Yixing’s fist tightened at his side, his throat constricting. He forced down a swallow. He couldn’t panic. Not here.

You frowned. “I wonder what scared him off.”

“Maybe you did?” Yixing said with a slight tease. It was more to keep his own mental state calm than for the benefit of everyone else.

“I’m not that frightening.”

“Whatever it was,” the man shook his head, “I’m thankful.”

“He should really rest now,” the nurse said sternly. Yixing nodded in agreement and, after the goodbyes were given, led you away.

Once outside of the hospital, Yixing stopped you. “I can take you home.”

“That’s okay,” you countered, “I can walk.”

He didn’t like that one bit. Besides, he really needed you by his side right now. “Where do you live?”

“In an apartment near campus.”

No way. “That’s nearly halfway across the city. I can take you. It’s not a big deal.”

You shifted form foot to foot, refusing to meet his eye. “I don’t… really like cars.”

“You made it here alright.”

“That’s because I was too worried about him to think about it. The adrenaline blocked everything out.”

“I’m a safe driver, I promise.”

“I believe you. I just-” You blew air out between your lips, which ended in a growl. It was actually kind of cute. Yixing pushed back a grin. It wasn’t appropriate right now. “My parents were killed in a car crash, so they kind of freak me out.” You sucked in your lips as if you hadn’t meant to reveal that vital information.

Oh. That explained… a lot actually. At least, in terms of what you had been holding back from him. He never wanted to push, but he felt better knowing more about you.

“I understand,” he said sympathetically. “Can I walk you home then? I can come back for my car later.”

You shook your head. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe so. But I need to make sure that you get home safe.”

You weighed his alternative for a minute or so. Yixing kept his patience. He refused to push you farther than you were willing to go. He just needed to see you walk safely into your building and then he would be okay until he saw you again.

“Okay,” you sighed. “You can drive me home.” He could have leapt with joy.

Yixing waited for you to get in the car before sliding behind the wheel himself. The death grip you had on the side handle didn’t escape his notice. He made sure to slow down easily and to take each turn with care. The only words you spoke were to give him directions. It wasn’t until the car was in park outside of your building did you finally relax.

“Thank you,” you told him in a strained voice.

“Any time.”

“I’m sorry if I was a little dramatic. I—” the growl of your empty stomach interrupted your speech. You groaned from embarrassment. Yixing couldn’t help his laugh.

Knock, knock, knock.

Leaning over and looking through the passenger window of his car was a strange girl Yixing had never seen before. He rolled down the window barely enough to be able hear what she was saying.

“How the hell did you get (y/n) into a car?” the girl gasped. You visibly cringed in the seat, sinking down a few inches.

Yixing blinked, unsure of how to respond. “Um, I—”

“Yixing, this is my roommate, Ran,” you interrupted, saving him. “Ran, this is Yixing. We have class together.”

“Oh!” The inclination behind her exclamation was more than obvious. And Yixing didn’t object to it. “I just ordered pizza and I know (y/n) usually gets hungry around this time. Do you want to join us?”

You flashed your roommate a panicked look, but Yixing couldn’t resist the opportunity. “That sounds great.” He caught you flinching, so he added, “As long as (y/n)’s okay with it.”

“Yeah,” you relented. “It’s the least I could do. For the ride.” You flashed an annoyed glare at Ran before getting out of the vehicle.

Yixing shouldn’t be this elated as he nearly sprung from the driver’s seat. He walked around the car slowly and let you and Ran lead the way, in case you changed your mind. You didn’t, thankfully, and Yixing walked up to your door with anticipation so great that he almost was able to forget what the man had said back at the hospital.

Almost.

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #yixing x reader #zhang yixing #lay #lay x reader #exo x fem!reader #exo werewolf au #exo werewolf!au #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo supernatural au #exo series #exo college au #exo college!au #The Untamed Universe #Healing Touch

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plutoswrath · 3 years

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i’m jealous of your big heart when it comes to animals lmao. i’m arachnophobic and it can be so annoying to have sometimes. i haven’t been able to tie it back to astrology, as much as i would like to. i asked because i was wondering if there was a clear indicator based off certain placements like how 6th house rules animals, 6th is ruled by mercury so i jumbled them even though i probs shouldn’t have lol. and with venus it ties to personal taste so i wondered if it could indicate a liking towards a certain animal. i have sag and sag venus in 6th and embarrassingly enough, i was obsessed with horses. like i came out of the womb adoring them. as soon as i learned to talk i was a walking horse encyclopedia. my obsession died down. i’m not a horse girl, i swear on my life.

i agree with you about the cancer loving animals. animals are babies and momma cancer loves to nurture the babies. i feel like cancers are the most likely to hate the “are you a dog or cat person” question. they’d get offended because how dare someone assume their heart isn’t big enough for both. more than both, really. throw a turtle in there. a rabbit even. cancer asc peeps usually have a shit ton of animals. it’s probably the sag/abundance in the 6th. or they either own a horse or Great Dane. but this is off topic because i forgot i had a follow up question.

if you could tie an animal or a couple animals to each sign that you think best represents that sign? or just seems like one they’d like? some are so easy and others just leave me blank. my arachnophobia thinks scorpio’s deserve better than scorpions but my terror blinds me. but i was looking up the symbolism behind animals and tying them to signs. so far, i’ve concluded that while horses should go with sag, their highly intuitive and empathetic animals. their behavior is like a mirror so if you’re nervous, they are too. so pisces or cancer actually seems to be a better fit. and to stay on topic of cancer with animals, i always tie wolves and dogs in general to cancer. the wolves are tied to the moon and familial dynamics and also i think they’re a great symbolic opposition to leo and how leos tend to resemble cats. sun and moon, dog and cat, night and day, that sort of thing. i realized i’ve rambled but i’m looking forward to your opinion because i’m so lost on what other signs would have. it’s been a year old question in my brain and it’s time for help from the master.

I'm sorry to hear that, I'm had a friend once who was arachnophobic and having phobias like these is really no fun, I can't imagine what it feels like really having them. And omg don't feel bad for liking horses when you were a child, literally so many children, especially young girls, like horses simply because people decided horses where a 'teenage girls only' thing somehow?? (and I will have to dig deeper into this at a point because here where I come from the horse girl thing is soooo painfully real and I want to understand the phenomena). And if I'm not mistake, arachnophobia (like most types of phobias), stem from some kind of trauma right? I absolutely don't try to get to personal but if we look at phobias in that way, maybe it's good to also include looking at planets/asteroids that point to trauma or aspects that can represent/indicate traumatic experiences in that sense! And I agree wholeheartedly to the 'dog or cat' question, I don't get offended by it but I hate this question in general because every animal deserves my love and empathy adfghj and yes, mother feelings definitely play into this haha! I think cancers enjoy (to an extent) having that occasional (or constant) outlet for their nurturing side and the bound you have to animals is also very intuitive and requires a lot of patience and getting educated as well as being observant and reading between the lines somehow and all that dedication paired with emotional knowledge just really speaks to water signs in general (and animals don't judge openly with words, just your energy asdfgh) Uhh, I like the question regarding the animals and I agree with your takes on it so far!! I think one animal can not represent all the core traits of a sign alltogether, but I'll try my best here! and psdfghj no need to call me master because I'm literally so far from anything close to that but thank you so much still, I feel honored really!!

The Signs as Animals:

Disclaimer: some of them are inspired by my ‘the Wild Unknown Animal Spirit’ tarot deck.

Aries: House cat. I know, I always thought cats actually link pretty well to Aries! Cats are just the perfect mixture of intelligen and curious, reserved, stubborn, aggressive, senstive as well as playful/impulsive! They are quick to learn and not afraid to face off against any other, bigger animals, but also can live pretty well together with other pets in the house, as long as they don‘t bother them too much. Especially when it comes to intimacy/pda they are very picky, but forceful when demand it. Seem flexible and unbothered at first but actually have the firmest boundaries when it comes to their personal freedom. Will let you believe they need you but give it a few weeks and the neighbor has better treats than you and gone they are asdfgh, but it's actually a harmful stereotype to believe that cats don't need you because they can become extremely fond of you and grow very attached.

Taurus: Elk. Based on the interpretation of my tarot deck. The elk represents earth energy, it is grounded, is established in itself and knows their core values and acts according to them. They show consistency, coherence and care. Dedicated to who they love and what they care for. Can become narrow minded due to knowing what's best, based on their perception of what's right and necessary, which can effect their ego negatively. Very Taurus for me. Gemini: Dragonfly. I refer to the interpretation of the Dragonfly based on my tarot deck. The dragonfly represents the mind: everchanging, quick, fascinating, a reflection of the world inside us and aroudn us. As the dragonfly is very quick (refering to Mercury's fast and nervous energy) the dragonfly also calles for paying attention to what quality our mind has and to become mindful, because on first glance things always appear different tahn on first glance (Mercury floats between detail-oriented and paying attenetion and being too fast, impatient). The dragonfly is joy and magic, as well as impatience, restlessness and being unable to concentrate. Cancer: Killer Whales (but also whales in general)! I thought especially about Killer Whales, because I once watched a documentary on them and they went in depth about how they have different cultures and different languages even (if I remember correctly) in their familys. Cancer often gets associated with the home life, but I think I wanted to look at it from another perspective, as in how does family 'become' family and how do those family roots develope, what do they consist of, how do we define family and what holds it together (and especially: how do our roots shape our own emotional patterns and nature in life?). I think the mystery of the Killer Whales but the whole complexity that lies behind the fascination of how these animals function and also how deeply affected Killer Whales are by their emotions/when they are absent from their kin, just opens up another big question of family dynamics and how we relate to one another and how principles we always condoned to human beings now apply to animals too. I think the whole part about the Killer Whales relation to emotions and their family's cultures just really made me link them to Cancer. Leo: Otter. I refer o the meaning of teh Otter based on my tarot deck. The Otter resembles the energy of the inner child: it's pure bliss, playfulness, they love to live and live for life itself, and out of this eagerness to enjoy life comes also a contentment and completeness towards life itself. To reconnect with otter energy, it is advised to step into settings of celebration, or total creative self expression and from the outside looking 'unproductive/selfish' indulgence. But actually, this energy is what makes life so enjoyable in the first place.

Virgo: Octopus. Highly intelligent beings that can quickly adapt and take the initiative. Self sufficient by nature, they aren't aggressive unless provoked, they like to mind their business unless they get curious (then they cling heavy onto you because you are their new object of interest). They can change color if it's needed (Virgo is a mutuable sign and can blend in perfectly in social occasions/new situations) and tbh the inking part about octopus just reminds me of the fact that most Virgos have a really quirky side to them you only get to see when you annoy them long enough (aka you are a long term friend). Libra: Gazelle. I refer to the meaning of ten Gazelle based on my tarot deck. The gazelle combines the creation of beauty and harmony, creativity and hyper awareness of it's surroundings, very affected of the imbalances in it's environment, but in it's try to remain this beauty around them, they tend to forget their achievments and stay in the present with their thoughts, as they constantly wheigh out the 'what if's'. A very perceptive animal in the tarot deck and this attribute is equally it's strong suit and downfall. Scorpio: Tiger. I refer here to the meaning of the Tiger based on my tarot deck. Waits in stillness and darkness to reconnect to their own inner power. Healing in isolation with the help of the lunar forces, waiting to regenerate. The Tiger energy shows itself in being passionate, sensual and stepping into ones own power, recognizing ones strength. For me, this is very Scorpio (Moon) for me. When the Tiger in unbalanced, it becomes overstimulated and acts according to this hyperawareness. Sagittarius: Zebra. I refer here to the meaning of the Zebra based on my tarot deck. The Zebra stands for an open mind, visionary and eccentric, new thinking, as well as being young at heart and expansion. I personally connect horses with passion and drive, because they are truly powerhouses. Based on the meaning of my tarit deck, the Zebra also is sociable, at least people find themselves drawn to the energy of the Zebra because it triggers their desire to learn, and I think this is something very beautiful Sagittarius symbolizes when they come into your life: be prepared to broaden your horizon for more.

Capricorn: Camel. I refer to the meaning of the Camel based on my tarot deck. Camels here represent absolute dependence on self and being able to find the answer to problems in oneself. This self reliance and capability reminds me of capricorns, the camel is finding the 'cool' aka water inside of them and Capricorn is traditionally also symbolized as the sea-goat (which I seriously think should really be considered when anaylzing this archetype) and Capricorns have (imo at least) a rich emotional life, but it's just deeply locked within. The Camel represents showing responsibility for their own actions, regulating the self and circumstances around them as best as they can, which makes sense for Capricorns, ruled by Saturn they usually are confronted with task in their life. If the Camel energy is out of balance, it shows a lack of vitality, with Capricorn representing the senior age in life makes sense, especially since Capricorns can tend to feel very old (exhausted)- Aquarius: Platypus- and no, I’m not using the Platypus because ‚wow all Aquarius are so weird like straight up aliens 🤪🤪’ I think the platypus is a good representation because it makes us question what we’ve known so far about animals and Aquarius too is a sign that introduces us to new ideas and perspectives all in the favor of progress and considering alternatives, leaving the status quo. Pisces: Raven/Crow. I name these two in particular because as far as I know it’s only the ravens that have been documented intimating people’s voices and tones, but crows are definitely more known for their bright mind. For me people often forget Pisces mutable nature and how quick witted they actually are. These birds are hyper intelligent and their observational skills are truly amazing. In my Wild Uknown Animal Spirit deck, the crow is an animal carrying 3rd eye energy. Here, the view is clear, the crow is moving through different dimensions and sees what other’s cant. For and the emotional depth (void) Pisces is conencted to it just seem to make sense.

#i swear i will be more active the next days #replies #anonymous #astrology #zodiac #the signs as #the signs as animals

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octopodeez · 4 years

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Wasted Time (Elijah Mikaelson x Reader)

Based on this request: Can I request a Elijah X reader where the reader is good friends with Elijah and Klaus teases her to be in Love with him, and she acts like Elijah knows and might forces him to play along, turning out they both have feelings for each other but didn't admit it? Klaus playing match maker

Your coven warned you to stay away from New Orleans, but you felt you had a pilgrimage to make. The entire city was known to be bursting at the seams with magic, and you’d dreamt of going since the moment you cast your first spell. You longed to tap into that energy. Maybe even pick the brains of some of the local witches to see what they could teach you.

You also admittedly had a curiosity about the very thing you were warned about: the war. Word spread fast about the city’s chaos once the original family made their return. Vampires and werewolves and witches were battling in the shadows, right under the noses of every tourist and townie. It was fascinating, and you figured a little quiet observation wouldn’t hurt anyone. Your naivety was laughable.

Not 24 hours into your trip did you end up becoming a pawn passed back and forth between the witches and the vampires. A wildcard for every side to use—new blood in the game. It ended with your coven alienating you. They wanted no part in any of it, especially when the original family was involved, and to offer you safe harbor was to bring the bloodshed to them. The witches of New Orleans gave you a similar answer when you desperately sought refuge with them, though, theirs ended with plans to execute you.

And then there was Elijah. Elijah who found you labeled as a traitor, about to be sacrificed. Elijah who rescued you and gave you his word that he’d keep you safe.

The living situation wasn’t ideal, and you lost the ability to move freely about the city, but over time, you came to like it. Winning over his siblings wasn’t easy, especially Klaus, but after Elijah reminded him that he was the one to drag you into this, he softened slightly.

You did your best to earn your keep, though Elijah insisted you didn’t have to. You’d happily cast spells upon request, but mostly you found yourself cooking and cleaning. It irritated Rebekah to no end when she came around.

My brothers are over 1,000 years old, if they haven’t learned to pick up after themselves by now then they deserve to live in filth, she chided the first time you met. If you must do something, make it to be that you keep to yourself. The less involved with our family you are, the better. Trust me on that.

You nodded along for her benefit, and even took her advice for a bit while she was there. But the second she left again, you were back to making cookies and disposing of bodies.

Occasionally things would quiet down. Someone would propose a flimsy peace treaty, or a faction would be forced to withdraw as they licked their wounds. It was those times that Klaus was at his most dangerous. Without the distractions of war, he had time to turn his attentions to other things…namely your friendship with Elijah.

At first, he was relatively quiet about it. He’d shoot smug, knowing glances and take the occasional vague jab in one of your directions. But as time went on and his boredom grew, he became far more vocal about what he’d suspected since day one: you and Elijah were in love.

He was half right. You had it bad for his elder brother, and everyone knew, save for Elijah himself. Or rather—he did know and simply chose not to acknowledge it. The latter was more likely. Few were more perceptive than Elijah, and there was absolutely no way he didn’t catch you staring at him as he read or lighting up whenever he walked within six feet of you. You’d come to terms with it quickly, and decided it was probably for the better he didn’t say anything. He’d quickly become your closest friend, and you’d rather have that than nothing at all.

Klaus decided otherwise.

“Your affections for my brother are exhausting, you know,” he said one day. He was leaning against your doorframe with his arms loosely crossed, watching you change your bedsheets.

You sighed and fiddled with a pillowcase. Ignoring him had never made him go away in the past, but you could sure as hell still try.

He remained persistent. “It’s no secret you fancy our dearest Elijah, and your longing stares after him are losing their humor.”

“So you’ve caught me looking at your brother a few times. What’s the big deal?” You snapped.

Klaus clicked his tongue after finally getting the reaction he wanted out of you.

“It seems I’ve struck a nerve, little witch.”

“No, I’m just tired of having this same conversation. I don’t know what you’re hoping to get out of it. Or are you just jealous?” There was venom in your voice and Klaus looked more delighted by the second.

“You’re not my type, love, but thank you for keeping me in your thoughts,” he replied. His sarcasm made your blood boil. “A quick word of advice—my brother seldom opens his heart to others. If you do choose to grow a spine and act upon your feelings…just know I’ll gladly reach down your throat and rip it right back out, should you ever hurt him.”

***

Klaus’s words stuck with you. They kept you up that night and well into the morning as they played in your mind over and over again. My brother seldom opens his heart to others. My brother seldom opens his heart to others. My brother seldom opens his heart to others. You knew better than to read into it. Hearts could open for friends just as much as for lovers…but could they really?

“You look conflicted.”

Elijah appeared in the kitchen with impeccable timing, as usual. You had just shoved a large spoonful of cereal in your mouth, and now your cheeks were swollen with Cheerios. A dribble of milk dripped down your chin and you nearly choked as you scrambled to wipe it away. He smiled and waited patiently for you to recover.

“What?” You finally managed. It was the first time you spoke since rolling out of bed and the sound was less than pleasant.

“You look conflicted,” he repeated, and then added “did you not sleep well?”

“Oh, no, I slept fine. Or, I guess I had a little trouble falling asleep…woke up a few times, too. But other than that, fine,” you stammered. Each word was clumsier than the next.

“Mm. Perhaps you should take it easy today. Maybe draw yourself a bath later on. You’re welcome to use the tub in my room. I expect it’s a bit nicer than yours.”

You nearly choked again. In all your fantasies and daydreams, you’d somehow never pictured him in the bath until now. Your mind’s eye was practically whirring with excitement as you envisioned him relaxed. Head leaned back. Eyes shut. Breathing deeply as one arm hung lazily over the porcelain’s edge. The other had its fingers wrapped delicately around the stem of a wine glass, filled with an unmistakable shade of deep red liquid. An empty blood bag lay crumpled and discarded on the floor. Nothing sexual. Nothing romantic. Just the wonderful idea of Elijah experiencing a rare moment of bliss.

He must have heard your heart skip a few beats. The clearing of his throat snapped you back to reality.

“Sorry! Maybe I’ll take you up on, uh, that. I’m not really feeling myself today.”

“You don’t say. What happened?”

“Nothing. I just didn’t sleep well.”

Elijah stayed quiet for a beat. He looked at you expectantly. Waiting for you to confirm what he already knew: you were full of shit. You pretended not to notice. You’d sit at this table, stubbornly eating the same bowl of Cheerios for an eternity before you willingly gave up the fact that he was the reason for yet another sleepless night.

“I noticed Niklaus coming from the direction of your room last night…so allow me to ask you again. What happened?” His voice was firm and his eyes were narrowed. Had you not known better, you would have almost thought he was jealous.

“Nothing! Klaus was just being Klaus, I don’t know! He stopped by, bugged me while I was trying to clean my room, then left. No conspiracies. No secret love affairs. Nothing new to report.” You chomped down on another spoonful of cereal. Everything came out harsher than you meant it to, but you had no intentions of apologizing.

“Is that so? Because if I recall the conversation I had with my brother last night as he left your room, the placement of your spine was threatened on my behalf…I suppose the question I should be asking isn’t what happened, but for how long?”

You spent so much time daydreaming about Elijah over the short course of your friendship. You pictured a life together. Maybe even an eternity, if he offered to grant it. You imagined what it would be like to feel him drink from you. The way he’d rest his hand on your waist as you drifted to sleep in a shared bed. The taste of his lips between sips of champagne on some far-off beach.

There was a part of you that felt terribly foolish. If something were to happen, it would have happened. He would have acted upon the tension he damn well knew was there. Your relationship was platonic because that was all he wanted it to be. But then there was another part of you. The same part of you that brought you down to New Orleans to begin with. That voice in the depths of your brain that kept whispering Klaus’s words: My brother seldom opens his heart to others.

“A while,” you finally confessed. It felt anticlimactic. Of the thousands of heartfelt speeches you’d planned over the months knowing him, all you could muster was two miserable words.

“I see. And you said nothing.”

“Right.”

Unable to look at him, you grabbed your empty bowl and moved towards the sink, but only made it halfway before he was in front of you, blocking your path.

The way he studied you made you feel small and exposed, a feeling you’d experienced many times in your life, but never to this degree. His body was close to yours. You could feel his breath lightly on your skin. It rippled over every nook and cranny of your being, making your hairs stand on end. If you wanted to, you could reach out and kiss him—and you did want to, badly--but you remined frozen in time, waiting for him to speak.

He never said a word.

His hand found its way to you neck, and he tangled his fingers in your hair as he kissed you. It was tender, but had an underlying fire to it that made your knees buckle. You wrapped your arms around him for support. To draw him in closer, closer, closer, closer, until you had to come up for air. He allowed you to take a breath, just enough to keep your heart pounding, before kissing you again, somehow with even more fervor than before.

When it was finally done, Elijah smiled and held you against his chest. He kissed the top of your head. The side of your neck. The shell of your ear.

There was so much wasted time to make up for.

I’m not super crazy with how this one turned out, but matchmaker Klaus was a ton of fun to write! If you like what you see, check out my AO3 and master list :)

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson imagine #the originals #daniel gillies #elijah imagine #klaus mikaelson #reader insert #tvd #the vampire diaries

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wwitbeyondmeasure · 4 years

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Summer at the Burrow : r.w. fan fiction

Previous Chapters

Introduction / Author’s Note / Chapter 1: The Journey to the Burrow / Chapter 2: Hidden Letters / Chapter 3: Ron’s Return / Chapter 4: Nighttime Conversations / Chapter 5: A Morning Surprise / Chapter 6: The Quidditch Match / Chapter 7: Girl Talk / Chapter 8: Aphrodite’s Push

Chapter 9: Mistakes and Love Potions

You barely got a wink of sleep that night. Every time you closed your eyes, you could see Ron's eyes filled with regret. What had been the hottest moment in your entire life was punctuated by Ron wishing it hadn't had happened. Maybe it shouldn't have. Maybe you got carried away and he didn't actually feel any attraction to you. His mind was probably cloudy from it being so late and you just throwing yourself at him in the middle of the night.

A bright light switched on which jostled you out of your thoughts.

"Rise and shine," Hermione sang, seeming very excited for so early in the morning.

"What time is it?" Ginny asked, her voice groggy and her hair a bird's nest.

"About 8am," Hermione replied, already folding her blankets and putting them away neatly. She always liked to wake up early. Maybe that's why she always did so well in school.

Ginny angrily threw a pillow at her as you buried your head back into your blankets with a groan. You didn't want it to be morning. You didn't want to have to walk downstairs and face Ron in the light of day. Again, his face flashed in your mind. Regret.

Hermione threw the pillow back at Ginny, hitting her in the back of the head with surprising accuracy. "Get up, lazybones!"

After 20 minutes of bickering, Hermione had finally coaxed Ginny out of bed. Ginny's room was a whirl of clothes as all three of you got dressed for the day. Your movements were delibertly slow, the thought of having to see Ron making you dread the journey downstairs. But soon enough, you couldn't delay your inevitable fate anymore and the three of you headed downstairs for breakfast.

Usually the smell of Mrs Weasley's famous bacon and eggs was a wonderful greeting in the morning, but this time your joy was dampened when you saw the back of Ron's head sitting at the breakfast table. Pretty much everyone was awake and sitting around the long wooden table, except for Percy and Mr Weasley who were both working.

"Good morning dears!" Mrs Weasley said, plopping a large egg with hash browns onto a plate before handing it to you. Thanking her, you took the plate and turned towards the table. Without making eye contact with anyone, you took the furthest seat from Ron, which happened to be right next to Bill.

"Morning y/n," he said, giving you a closed lip smile as he chewed his breakfast.

Looking up at him, you smiled back politely. He was wearing a black button up shirt with the top three buttons undone. His pale chest contrasted greatly with the dark material, but he made it look good. His dark clothes, long hair, and dragon tooth earring made him look like a sexy vampire. No wonder you had such a big crush on him when you were younger.

"Morning," you replied.

"I heard about your fall during Quidditch yesterday," he said, trying to make casual breakfast conversation. Although you were usually chatty with the Weasleys, your heart was hurting too much to put much effort into talking today.

"Yeah, I did" was all you said.

"Reckon it was Fred or George's fault, huh?" Bill asked with a wink. You laughed lightly but kept your eyes glued to your breakfast. Looking up at the others would only make you want to look at Ron. And if you looked at Ron, and if he looked back with the same eyes from last night....your heart sank at the very thought.

A breakfast roll sailed overhead but Bill caught it in one hand before taking a large bite out of it.

"Good throw," he said to the twins, before turning his attention back to you. "Your cut looks like it's healed up nicely," he commented.

You nodded, "Yeah, Ron helped patch me up."

Just saying his name sent an ache throughout you but you still avoided looking towards his end of the table.

But then you felt someone leaning closer to you, the smell of pine needles filling your nose. It was a pleasant smell, but not as nice as apples and cinnamon.

From under your lashes you looked up to see Bill closing the distant between you rather quickly. Your heart skipped a beat as he raised a hand to brush your hair away from your face.

"Yeah, looks like he did an alright job," Bill said, lifting your hair to observe the healed bump on your forehead.

Second year y/n would have fainted in this moment. Bill Weasley, your first real crush, was leaning across a table to touch you? He was looking at you intently while brushing your hair away from your face? You should have been ecstatic. You should have been sweating from head to toe. But you weren't. Instead, all you could think about is how you wished you were smelling apples and cinnamon instead of pine needles.

"Oi, mate, stop flirting with her or I'll throw up my breakfast," George replied. Laughs erupted from the table and your face burned red.

You couldn't help yourself, your eyes glanced up and you immediately made eye contact with Ron. He was looking between you and Bill, an angry sort of look on his face. You knew he had problems with jealousy, being The Chosen One's best friend came with those kinds of setbacks, but why was he jealous about this? He was the one who regretted everything from last night, not you. An anger boiled up in your stomach, the image of Ron's regretful eyes playing on a loop in your head. Suddenly, you wanted to make him just as hurt as he had made you.

Turning back towards Bill, you put on your most charming smile. "I mean, you can flirt with me if you want to. Not that I'd mind," you said, batting your eyelashes. You were half joking, but half wanting to piss off Ron.

Ginny chuckled as Bill's cheeks took on a slightly warmer color. Fred and George faked puking into their cereal bowls. You looked at Ron and were pleased to see he looked absolutely furious. His knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping his fork.

"Maybe y/n took our missing Amortentia from last night," Fred joked.

Your heart stopped as you turned to face the twins.

"Huh?" You asked.

Fred smiled before he launched into explanation.

"We had a couple boxes of chocolates with Amortentia drops in them in our room. We were planning on putting a few in Percy's morning tea, but when we tried to find them they were gone. Based on your flirting this morning, maybe you had eaten a couple," he said.

You shook your head, a feeling of dread starting to fill you stomach.

"I didn't take them," you responded. But you think you knew who did.

Ron cleared his throat uncomfortably before asking, "Were they in a blue box? With a little pink ribbon around it?"

Fred and George nodded their heads, every head at the table swerving to look at Ron.

Ron swallowed nervously. "Uh, I might've eaten them. Not on purpose though!" He promised, his face looking guiltier by the minute. "I was hungry when I was in your room the other night, so I took a couple of boxes. I didn't know they had Amortentia in them."

"Did you feel any different? Do anything different?" George asked, looking at Ron skeptically. Ron shook his head, and you knew he was trying his very best not to look at you.

Fred swore, which earned a disapproving glare from Mrs Weasley. "That means they're defective. We'll have to make a whole new batch before we can sell them at the shop."

"Or maybe," Hermione interjected, "You shouldn't be selling love potions at all! They are one of the most dangerous potions, and it is clearly wrong to be selling them in the first place. Honestly, didn't either of you pay attention in Potions class?" She looked distressed, obviously very upset that the twins didn't recall the negative side effects of Amortentia that Professor Snape had taught.

"Psh," Fred said, brushing her off with a wave of his hand as the conversation at the table changed. Everyone was talking about their plans for the day, full of ideas of playing Quidditch or Gobstones or maybe even taking a trip to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. Usually you would join the conversation, but your heart felt like it was cracking in half. The only reason Ron acted the way he did last night was because he was high off of love potion, he didn't actually feel anything for you. He didn't feel the same way you did, and you started to doubt if he ever will. Before tears could form in the corner of your eyes, Mrs Weasley made a statement that drew everyone's attention.

"You will be doing nothing of the sort today. Today you're all going to finish your summer Hogwarts homework," she held her hand up sternly to stop Harry and Ron from protesting, "no if's, and's, or's, or but's!" Her tone let everyone know that her word was final.

Everyone around the table groaned, except for those who had already graduated and Hermione who clapped happily at the mention of school work.

For the rest of the day, you and Hermione sat at the dining table working hard while everyone else half-assed their homework. Ginny and Harry sat on the couch, distracting each other and joking, while occasionally picking up a quill to write. Ron sat alone leaning against a tree outside with his books open but a blank expression on his face. You sighed unhappily as your gaze wandered over to him for the millionth time that hour.

"Okay, what's up," Hermione said, surprising you by setting down her quill and closing her Transfiguration book.

"Nothing," you lied, pretending to write an answer to your Divination homework. But your brain was too scrambled and your heart too heavy to get any real work done at the moment.

Hermione yanked your parchment out from under you to read your work.

"Hey!" You protested, but she started reading your answer aloud anyway.

"What does the moons transit into Venus this month mean for your love life?" Hermione scoffed. "What a load of crap."

You nodded. Usually your grades were pretty good, not as good as Hermione's, but you were better at Divination. For some reason Professor Trelawney liked you and said you had an "inherently observant third eye." But today, your third eye must have been squinting because most of your homework answers were a little ridiculous.

"You answered with, 'Venus is just a big ball in the sky, therefore it knows nothing of love,' " Hermione gave you a wary look. "I hate Divination and even I know that's not the correct answer."

Shrugging, you grabbed the paper back from her and continued writing bullshit answers. The moon's transit into Venus was supposed to bring abundant love and joy, but right now that felt like the worst prediction in the world. The only boy you cared about couldn't even kiss you, even when he had taken love potion. What does that say about his feelings towards you?

"Y/n, tell me what's wrong," Hermione said, her voice almost as stern as Mrs Weasley's. Something happened with Ron, didn't it?,"

You had been holding in how you felt all day, and it was going to drive you mad. But just at the mention of his name, your emotional dam broke open. Before you could stop yourself, you gushed out everything that had happened last night to Hermione, your voice hitching towards the end when you recalled Ron looking at you with such regret in his eyes.

"Oh, honey," Hermione said, wrapping her hands around yours. "That's hard, but I think the best thing you could do is just talk to him about it." At the moment, you didn't really want to hear Hermione's advice. She was always right, and right now you just wanted to wallow in your self-pity.

She patted your hand, and inclined her chin towards the window, where you could see Ron sitting outside with a puzzled expression on his face.

"He hasn't written anything for the past 20 minutes, he's probably just as confused and upset as you are. Either that or he just started his Potions homework. Either way, just go tell him how you feel, you'll feel better," she promised.

You nodded, thanking her for always giving you the most wise advice. Before you could lose your nerve to do so, you packed up your books and parchment and walked outside. Ron heard you approaching and set his quill in his book before shutting it and setting it beside him. The trunk of the large oak tree he leaned against was thick enough that he didn't even have to move over as you plopped down next to him. The hard bark of the tree pressed into your back but it was comforting to feel something to keep you grounded as you started this tricky conversation.

"Hi," you said, refusing to look at him. His face was turned towards you but you couldn't bring yourself to turn towards him. If you did, you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from kissing him.

"Hi," he replied.

A long silence stretched out into the summer air before you both started talking at the same time.

"I wanted to talk to y-"

"We should probably t-"

Blushing, both of you stopped.

"You go first," you said.

Ron nodded, his hands fiddling with the grass in front of him. He kept pulling at the roots, rolling the grass between his fingertips, and then pulling at the roots again. It was like he couldn't keep his hands still, like he had to be doing something with them. You desperately wanted to reach over and grab his hands in yours, but before you could muster up the courage to do so, he began to speak.

"I wanted to apologize for last night," he said. Your heart dropped. You came out here to tell him you had an amazing time and the only bad part was that you hadn't had the courage to go further, to kiss him. Yet here he was, apologizing. Apologizing as if last night had been a mistake.

"I didn't know I ate Fred and George's Amortentia, so that's probably why I was acting so...funny," he said, trying to find the right word. His voice was low and he was talking fast, like he always did when he was nervous. "So, anyway, I just wanted to say I'm sorry, and it won't happen again."

Your breath caught in your throat.

"It won't happen again?" You asked, desperately hoping that wasn't true. You turned to look Ron in the eyes, and as soon as you did he looked away.

"It was a mistake," he said, his adams apple bobbing up and down as he spoke.

"Oh," was all you managed to say.

And then Ron was standing up. He was standing up, gathering his school things, and walking away. Before you could even register what had happened, he was gone. You watched his retreating figure enter the house as you felt a hot tear slip down your cheek.

A mistake.

The word repeated in your brain and you choked on a sob. All you wanted, all you ever wanted from him was full honesty. And he had given it to you. He didn't want you, not in the same way you wanted him. You had to accept that. You had to.

So you gave yourself 15 minutes. 15 minutes to sit outside, cry, and let yourself be sad about how the boy you loved didn't love you back. After those 15 minutes, you promised yourself, you would walk back into the Burrow and pretend nothing happened. You would pretend Ron hadn't almost kissed you in the bathroom upstairs. You would pretend he hadn't cuddled with you the night he first came back to the Burrow, and you would pretend he hadn't touched you with such passion the night before. You would pretend you weren't deeply, madly in love with him.

You would go back to being best friends, just best friends. And you had to be okay with that, or else you would lose him.

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hollenka99 · 3 years

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Whenever and Wherever

This is ridiculously late because I didn’t have much time to work on it thanks to irl stuff so sorry about that but happy (belated) birthday @bupine. Have some bench trio.

The first time their paths cross, it's in the tailor shop run by Tommy's family. Tommy seems to be manning the counter while his brothers and father are supposedly in the back. The customer is clearly an enderman hybrid if his facial features are anything to go off of. He's just here to order a suit for a new job as a stenographer for the mayor apparently. Ranboo lingers longer than he likely expected to when he walked in as the three of them make conversation together. Before their latest acquaintance heads off, they decide to meet up again outside of work hours.

Talking to Ranboo comes easy. Before too long, you could tell Ranboo's work schedule based on where he was found lingering. At the tailor's shop? Well, it was likely one of his days off and he wanted to keep Tommy company for a while as the owner's son worked. At the bakery? That usually meant Ranboo was on his lunch break and hoped to sneak something sweet into his midday meal. He occasionally buys a few flowers for Tommy with the excuse of 'livening up his workspace' and offers Tubbo his attempts at baking. Whenever possible, the three of them either made time during lunch or in the evening to hang out together.

Then Ranboo seems to realise he gets off work around about the same time the bakery owned by Tubbo's family closes for the night. That mixed with the fact he really isn't the best with anything kitchen related... Listen, Tubbo was simply being a good friend by helping him out. Plus, who wouldn't want to take advantage of an excuse to spend more time with one of their best friends? It becomes a... thing, their evening practice sessions. Tommy once comments on it during a lunchtime meet-up, only to tease them but it kind of hits Tubbo how often Ranboo swings by so they can bake together.

It becomes blatantly clear everyone knows what's going on between the two of them when they hang around at the back of the tailor's one afternoon.

"If one of you doesn't ask the other out, I will break into your homes, steal your clothes and alter them so they're unwearable. Then I will make you pay to have them fixed."

"We... We uh, aren't-" Ranboo begins defending.

Tommy glances up from his sewing machine as he switches it off. "Fucking hell, just kiss or something, I don't know. But please stop forcing me to watch the two of you make eyes at each other whenever we hang out. We haven't been 16 for years. Sort yourselves out or whatever."

So they clumsily arrange a 'date' and let things go from there. It goes... well. A second attempt to make sure the first wasn't a fluke wouldn't hurt, nor would a third. It soon gets to the point where this new dynamic feels entirely natural. Tubbo's only worry is that Tommy might feel like a third wheel. Their mutual friend assures them he doesn't care about that. Besides, they know him, if he was actually bothered by it, he would have complained a ton by now.

Getting engaged isn't a big affair. In fact, it is a complete mess that occurs on Ranboo's sofa following a lull in conversation. He trips over his words, segues into various rambley detours and eventually manages to get to the point where he asks the all important question. Tubbo knew his answer the moment he realised where his boyfriend was headed with the conversation.

"So Tommy," Tubbo leans over the counter. The way he very blatantly holds Ranboo's hand only causes his attempt at acting nonchalant to come close to failing. "How much for a couple of wedding suits?"

"You're not getting a friend discount. In fact, I think I'll double the typical asking price purely because you are my friends."

"I hate you, you know that, right?"

"Hmm, might even make it triple."

"I will personally uninvite you."

Tommy and Tubbo maintain straight-faced eye contact for all of five seconds before the taller of the two breaks into a grin. Before the new fiancees can react, Tommy has his arms around both of them, drawing them in closer.

"How could neither of you tell me you were looking at rings? Absolute crime, that, if you ask me. Especially since I'm obviously the bestest man around. Disgraceful, the both of you. How can you sleep at night knowing you left me out of the loop? Gonna have to quadruple the price as punishment."

An elbow to the ribs leads to a slightly pained inhale before the three of them descend into snickers.

Is it bad that he forgot land-dwellers need air?

Tubbo had been watched the two of them from afar. The one with sand-coloured hair makes himself round as he falls a significant distance towards the water. After a few repeats of this odd practice, he decides he will greet the human when he next appears in his domain. Tubbo grabs him by the arms with a friendly smile but it doesn't seem the human is so keen to befriend any merfolk. In the struggle, he gets a weird appendage to the face. Not one to be easily put off, Tubbo swims to the surface in time to see the boy communicating angrily with one whose hair colour resembled those of a beast he's been warned about. He thinks he'll dub them Sand and Orca for simplicity.

Orca spots him watching their conversation and walks over, positioning himself close enough to include Tubbo in any discussions they may want to have with him but far enough that Tubbo couldn't physically reach either of the boys with his arms. Sand greatly disapproves of this supposed fraternising with the enemy. Orca keeps attempting to communicate but their languages are vastly different so all it amounts to are gestures. When they leave, Tubbo finds it funny how the one named after a deadly predator is the most willing to be friendly while the one whose namesake he loves lounging upon occasionally had a tendency to come off as hostile.

The pair of humans don't visit him everyday and even on the days they do, the position of the sun isn't always the same when they arrive. Nevertheless, they continue to come as often as they are able and Tubbo appreciates that. He can't replicate any of their human vocalisations and though they try, neither of the human boys are particularly great at whistling and chirping properly. The constant gesturing seems to be the only way for them to communicate but they somehow manage to become firm friends despite it all.

One thing Tubbo definitely understands is fish. He is perfectly capable of getting his own food and honestly prefers catching it live anyway but if they want to offer him a snack as a sign of friendship, he's hardly going to say no. There's always the option to share the food with his family later. He brings Sand his namesake as a way of thanking them. Even if he knew a good place to observe orcas so he could extend a similar gesture to his other friend, Orca apparently can't swim. At least, that's how Tubbo interpreted it when his friend once pointed to himself, motioned as if he was pulling himself forward in water and shook his head afterwards. So Sand is the only one who sometimes joins him in the shallower water. And Tubbo has learned from his mistakes now, he makes no attempts to keep Sand below the surface longer than the human boy can manage.

One day not long after they meet, Sand tries to tell him something he can sense is important. He gestures between himself and Orca, points to the sun and makes a wide circular motion with his finger, extends his arm so it rises above their heads then ends the message by pointing to the shore. It takes another round of reiterating before Tubbo begins to potentially understand. They will get big with the sun and be here? It sounds odd but he supposes he can't physically stop them from leaving.

The sea grows warmer and cooler then back again over and over. He visits their spot each time the temperature rises. They never come. Or maybe he just keeps missing them when they do show up. He's not sure. Either way, he gets older and grows into young adulthood as the years continue to pass. He hopes the same is happening to them. They did promise to return once they got bigger too, after all. Although, the thought he might have wildly misunderstood Sand's parting message isn't always easy to not dwell on.

His waiting finally pays off and he couldn't be more ecstatic. They've both grown weird shells on their backs that he feels would be ineffective at defending them, their feet are disproportionately longer and their faces are practically unrecognisable with protective shells around their eyes and mouths. They are much larger than the last time they all saw each other too. But it's them, it's really them! Not to mention them seem to have developed the ability to breathe underwater somehow. Unsure how to greet them properly after all this time, he rushes off to the seabed with a grin and presents them with a fish as well as a fistful of sand. They look between themselves before accepting the gifts gratefully.

As the sunlight wanes on the surface, the humans sit on their familiar secluded spot of a caved area while Tubbo lets the water lap around him. The human duo have suddenly lost their strange shells now, both on their backs and faces, as well as returned to having better proportioned feet. Orca offers his own reunion gift. If Tubbo were human, he might have made use of non-existent tear ducts to inadvertently express how moved he was by the object. Because oh wow, he was never able to communicate Orca's

Tubbo knows what it is like to be displaced by war. He'd been born in a time of technical peacetime, though everyone knew this would change sooner rather than later with all the tension.

He's 9 when the war seems to decide it's time to directly come for him as the son of the president, more than the resource shortages or street violence ever could. An attempt to assassinate his father that he'd been too close to lands him in hospital. It's officially too dangerous for him to remain a symbol of how safe their country was. All those not old enough to potentially enlist get evacuated, Tubbo especially.

Snowchester is... alright. It's isolated and out of the way, which is probably for the best in the general scheme of things. But at his age, all he really cares about is making the most of the snow before the novelty wears off and questioning how long it will be before he can go home to his family again. The answer was less than a month and 'we don't know so you'll just have to sit tight. Okay?'. So he reluctantly settles into his new life. He makes an effort to get to know the handful of other kids from the village in the hopes of gaining at least one friend to help him through this, he wanders around the marketplace on Tuesdays to find the sweet highlight of his week and for the hell of it, he challenges himself to become a master snow sculptor. Tubbo also writes to home to let his family know how he's doing but it feels like it has to go through 50 hands just to reach them for the sake of maintaining his secrecy which really sucks. By the time he celebrates his first birthday without them there, he had given up on arguing about the risk of just ringing them.

Then when he's 11, men posing as sea merchants arrive on their frozen shores during the night. Before he's even fully woken up, he's on a horse in his goddamn pyjamas and clutching a pitiful bag filled with whatever he and foster father had managed to stuff into it in 2 seconds. He doesn't get to bid Snowchester a proper goodbye. They're already on a rowboat they'd kind of stolen after racing through the trees when reality finally begins dawning on him. The man who'd looked after him explains they were headed to a new place that would hopefully prove to be safer than his old home.

He's used to the cold of a tundra by now. This place is more landlocked than Snowchester but not everything can be on the coast. He guesses the isolation and lack of enemy reinforcements arriving directly at a village is a good way to decrease the risk of attack. He hates it here. Snowchester might have been a fair distance from other places but at least there had been a bunch of people around. This was literally one guy looking after two kids, now three, in the middle of actual nowhere.

Phil does his best to be accommodating, he will give him that. And the other boys he's living with aren't too bad half the time. But it's too much. He decides he'd rather keep to himself. Ranboo, like Phil, is a bit more patient with him than Tommy is. Ranboo is willing to play a chess game he has no chance of winning or solve the same jigsaw for the 5th time that week. Tommy, on the other hand, will talk at him or encourage him to go outside.

"If nothing dangerous happens, you have to... make me a hot chocolate. Yeah, that seems like a decent payment."

"Payment for what?"

"For getting you to stop sulking and enjoy the snow obviously."

He humours him but he makes sure his reluctance is unmistakeably evident. It turns out Tommy has excellent aim when it comes to throwing snowballs. When Tubbo complains about this, Tommy simply shrugs and reveals his brother is the commander of the army so what did he expect? It doesn't matter whether you're hunting for food or stopping the enemy from getting you first, precision and accuracy are important for survival. That's part of the wisdom Wilbur had bestowed upon him before going off to lead their side to victory anyway. Tommy then ends his speech by standing next to Tubbo in order to cram a previously concealed handful of snow down his back in a surprise attack. Tubbo swears he is going to work out how to dislodge half the roof's worth of snow on Tommy's head tomorrow for that. When they finally head back inside, Tommy lets him know he'd like his drink to include whipped cream and those tiny marshmallows if they still have some lying around.

In time, he learns Tommy had been sent far from home the same as he had. Logsted had been 'a tiny shithole with nothing on offer to do' that eventually fell prey to the same exploitable feature that Snowchester had. Phil had been an old contact of General Soot's so when the initial relocation efforts fell through, Tommy was sent to Phil. No big deal. Well... listen, Tommy can act like a prat at the best of times but he supposes it is nice knowing he's not the only one paranoid this will abruptly end terribly one night.

The days, weeks, months roll by swiftly. The three of them have snowball fights at least onc

Technically, it's Tommy's fault they nearly die. He'd been so insistent on fighting the dragon like his father once had that Tubbo had lost the will to try dissuade him. To be fair, he was all for it. It was only that Tommy was eager to jump right into the challenge while Tubbo… would prefer to actually survive.

They agree it will be an 'in and out' affair. They'll sneak down to the nearby portal at night, kill the dragon and hop back to the Overworld before their absences are noticed. If their families are unaware, they will never get in trouble for this. It can be an epic tale to impress future acquaintances but one to keep to themselves within earshot of those who'd scold them for it.

So that's what they do. With diamond armour and arrows they 'borrowed', the pair of 15 year olds face the dragon. They've already assigned themselves roles with Tubbo being in charge of destroying the crystals and Tommy tackling the dragon as a distraction. The plan is to take on the beast together once Tubbo's initial objective is complete.

It goes to shit when Tubbo barely makes a water clutch after being pushed off a tower by the force of an exploding ender crystal. Tommy had tried to get closer to him to provide support but ended up getting caught in the dragon's toxic breath. And then one of them must have accidentally triggered hostile attention from the surrounding endermen. A perfect example of sod's law, everything that could go wrong seemingly does. They tire themselves out too much by trying to return to more neutral odds. It doesn't happen. The cherry on top was the dragon knocking Tubbo into a pillar with her wing.

He's definitely had enough of this bullshit by the time he lets the developing concussion steal his consciousness. Let them just respawn in the bed they'd set up right outside the stronghold's portal room so they can be done with this. He really doesn't want to lose a life, especially not to a stupid stunt like this. But by this point? Fuck it.

When he wakes, it is not on the ground. It seems to be in a building on some sort. Has someone taken him home to work through his injuries? Tommy couldn't have since the next time Tubbo sees him, he has a haphazardly constructed splint on his leg. They bicker about their disastrous exploits until Tommy grouchily alerts them to the presence of their host, a young looking enderman.

It passes them a written message and Tommy, being the son of someone who is pretty much a jack of all trades when it comes to learning about other cultures, has a go at reading it. It's nothing too elaborate, just a summary of what happened while Tubbo was unconscious. The End native had spotted their plight as Tommy continued to get bombarded by aggressive endermen and toxic fumes courtesy of the dragon. All it had done was bring them home and attempt to give them medical assistance. Now here they were. At the bottom is a word Tommy's never seen before.

"Dunno what the fuck a Ranboo is."

"Maybe it's his name, idiot. Look at where it is, it's a signature."

"Oh, yeah maybe. What kind of stupid name is Ranboo though?"

They can't go back without the dragon dying and neither of them are in a position to make a second attempt, especially at the start when they are still both recovering. With no way home, they resign themselves to their new reality of living permanently in the End. The least they can do, in Tubbo's opinion, is try their best to communicate with their host by learning enderspeak. That goes... very slowly. Even with Ranboo helping out and Tommy's head start, it's not the easiest thing for them to learn. The humans share some of their language with the enderman in return.

Either way, they start living in their new home as Ranboo's guests. Their diet becomes saturated with chorus fruit and the first time either of them accidentally teleports during a meal, it's a shock. Their new friend waits until Tommy's broken leg heals before occasionally showing them around the islands that make up this dimension. They visit an end city that happens to have a ship nearby at some point and Tubbo resists the urge to lightly smack Tommy at the back of the head for acting like he's not impressed. They may possibly never be able to go home but come on. there is a literal massive ship floating in the sky.

Phil comes for them as soon as it feels like they might finally be getting used to their new way of life. They get the scolding of a lifetime mixed in with Phil making his relief and worry painfully obvious. They introduce Phil to Ranboo and of course the guy is conversational in enderspeak. At one point, Tubbo catches Tommy making a jabbing motion towards his father with his thumb incredibly subtly before rolling his eyes. As deeply in trouble as they are, as much as they were settling into what they believed to be a more permanent life change, the promise of home fills Tubbo with anticipation. He can't wait for the four of them to return to the Overworld.

Because you're coming too,

+1.

He's never been so eager to go to an airport in his life. His mum half listens while concentrating on the road as he rambles about all the plans the three of them had started making for the upcoming two weeks. There were so many games on their list for them to try. And yes, he knows they won't be able to get around to them all but they'll be damned if don't make an effort to dent it. Oh and then also all the stuff that got picked on the spinning wheel from Ranboo's stream a while ago.

Tubbo is beside himself as they wait in the arrival meeting area. There's no word of delays so come on, get here already. Then there he is, wearing his signature sunglasses and mask in the midst of the emerging crowd. Once the pair are close enough to do so, Tubbo throws his arms around his friend. And god, he knew Ranboo was much taller but he doesn't feel he'll hear the end of this, especially not once Tommy shows up.

They've already established this in preparatory voice calls but as they head towards the car, Tubbo explains that Tommy isn't due until tomorrow. So maybe they could watch one of those Starkid shows tonight since Ranboo's internal sense of time will be screwed by the long journey and Tubbo's hardly the best at maintaining a circadian rhythm as it is. His parents and sisters will go to bed and that's when the party can really start. Ranboo suggests The Trail to Oregon purely because the scene where Slippery When Wet threatens to murder god lives rent free in his head. But it would ultimately be up to Tubbo when the time came tonight.

Just outside the car with Ranboo's luggage in the boot, he asks his mum to take a picture of the two of them. He dms it to the missing member of their trio with a smirk.

Tubbo: Bet you're so jealous right now

Tommy: No because he's going to hang out with me more after I get there

Tubbo: As if

Tubbo: Can't wait for this week

Tommy: Same

Tubbo: Ranboo says hi btw

Tommy: Wow cringe

Tommy: Can't go on call rn but I say hi too

Tubbo: Whos cringe now?

Tommy: Shut up

He and Ranboo spend the entire journey home chatting about everything and nothing. Oh, these next two weeks were going to be amazing. Tubbo can't wait.

Tubbo wakes slowly. He doesn't tend to be startled by Ranboo's lack of eyelids as often nowadays. They may not share a bed that frequently, separate homes and all that, but he's seen his husband crash on his sofa after an exhausting day enough times to gradually get used to it. Michael had managed to snuggle up between them at some point in the night too. The little zombie piglin boy is fast asleep as well. Tubbo readjusts his arm so it encompasses their adoptive son, drawing him closer slightly.

Distantly, he recalls he's planned to meet up with Tommy later and it makes him think. A husband who cares about him enough to make Tubbo one of people whose side he'd stand by if necessary, a son whom they both love and would defend with their lives and a best friend who still stuck by him despite how much they've changed in the several months since they first met. He'd like to think that regardless of the timeline or universe, he'd always have them or close enough copies.

Content with his situation, he lets his eyes slip close once more and drifts back to sleep.

#dream smp #tubbo #tommyinnit #ranboo #my writing

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kneipho · 3 years

Text

Submitted by: @mantrabay

–

Rush Amid The Rapids.

“Must I always be posting transactions?” I said to myself, Landon Croaker, accountant, adjusting my backpack as I rambled up a ragged winding woodland path.

A granite strewn gulag odyssey lay ahead.

There was the usual green stew of ornate plants.

Ancient Fir Clubmoss which grows into a chalice- like shape.

The St Patrick’s cabbage, with thick leather zig zag veins.

Hapless Fraochan and Whortleberry shrub’s pendant fruit so symmetrical.

I brought my notebook with me.

Closet novelist or bard one day?

Canopy of lattice branch springboards abound.

Shrieks

from stunned squirrels leaping in the arc of a trapeze with blue jay alarm signal.

Rustle of rabbits under slender stalks.

Puffball cloud and brown-dust spore floaters.

A wastrel I was within the wilds.

I was getting close to where my friends, a husband and wife team lived and ran a fringe publishing company.

They resided in a cherry wood log cabin with tongue and groove cladding and a pine timbered roof lantern peering down a mountain side.

Like a watchtower the mountain sat in sinister observance.

A fallow deer suddenly appeared.

It looked furtively with startled eyes as if it knew something I didn’t.

Within minutes it vanished.

Flies swarmed about, the spooky whistleblowers on this solitary hiker’s grazed cheeks.

My clothes were wringing wet from the sweltering heat.

The curious urban spirit drove me on.

Chambered cairns, those passage tunnels from the past that act as stone markers for the venturer were rife.

Platform mounds whose ribboned cracks and gouges play host to strongly rooted Chasmophytes.

There was a lurking presence as the cabin became visible.

“Hello, there. Fancy seeing you here.

Welcome back.”

Chelsea, in a croaking baby twang.

“Oh …you frightened me.” Landon said.

I nearly toppled.

Chelsea dashed towards me.

“A bit worried there, Landon.

What a surprise!

We like surprising people too.”

I paused and replied.

“It’s the unexpected that adds spice to this life business and others!”

Landon sardonically.

“You sound tired.”

Chelsea replied.

“We’ll change that. We’ll change everything about your life now you’re here.”

The ramifications of that would soon unfold.

“The last time I was here we talked about having children.

Any decision yet?

You could always adopt.”

I continued.

“Don’t have to.

Got my husband and he’s got me.” She said.

“We’re both kids at heart.”

Her sad voice trailing off.

“This location seems ideal but there’s schooling and everything.”

Chelsea hesitantly.

“Nothing that couldn’t be resolved.”

Landon in reply.

Croaker sensed Chelsea’s unease and didn’t continue.

“Hey, what’s this?” Croaker cried as two apples landed at his feet.

“Yahoo. You two.”

Chesney, Chelsea’s husband shouted.

“It’s been so long.

Doesn’t time fly?”

Chesney again.

While walking it dawned on Landon how dewy-eyed and child-like this couple were.

Entering the cabin seemed like something from a storybook.

Cartoon mosaics attached to fool’s gold borders, zip purse smashed purple bead inserts, and shredded comic strips.

“There are shrouds of deep mystery here.”

Croaker thought.

“Hey Snap.

What’s accountancy like these days?”

Chesney’s smug question.

“Nothing really changes.

Investment investment hazards and the like.

It’s a world I drifted into.

How about your company in paradise.”

Croaker sarcastically.

“Publishing is odd.

You almost become the stories submitted.”

Chesney observed.

“Birth and regrowth are gaining interest.

Am I boring you?” Chesney enquired.

“Well, it beats accountancy.”

Landon tactfully.

A salad of roasted lemon, fennel fronds and pomegranate was served with

guacamole dip based on chunky avocado.

After our meal we washed up

Chelsea’s phantom figure scurried outside with Olympic speed.

It was so redolent of the suddenness about.

A rapt cocoon descended around Chesney and Landon’s interaction.

Landon quizzed Chesney about the urban country rift.

Tranquil timberlands have their own stressors.

“See those creatures slumped awkwardly on fragile twigs?

They sense pending doom.”

Chesney observed.

“Can you really escape hectic city life?”

A querulous tone from Chesney.

“Maybe these divisions are fictional.”

Landon archly.

“Thud. What’s that?”

Chesney shaking.

Chelsea entered.

“Oh dear .. let’s say a homing pigeon.

They’re a strange breed.”

She said smugly.

“Very strange indeed.”

Chesney out loud.

Chelsea and Chesney exchange strained silent glances.

A circus of the wilds continued outside as species vied with species in an ego fanfare.

Chirping robin red breasts,

wing scraping crickets in high chorus.

Vulcan steam curtain as backdrop.

Horseshoe Bats that weave rainbow shafts.

Daddy long legs with their cancan dances on sodden patches.

“Excuse me …..ring a bell?” Chesney diverting Landon’s attention with a broken fragment.

Landon bought this autumn crocus crystal vase on a previous sojourn.

It slipped from his hands in a butter fingers incident.

Croaker uttered the words “my lasting gift” as it fell.

Cackles erupted but frustration for Landon.

“A hilarious keepsake after a fashion.”

Chelsea opined.

“Really?”

Said Landon embarrassed by this anecdote.

The hours passed and they were both tired.

Landon saw Chesney remove a letter from a ring pull drawer.

“Just an old bill. Must shred it.” He said.

“Why would Chesney explain that?

His face reddened.

Curious.” Landon thought.

Shuffling to bed Landon did notice

pink salmon eiderdowns, pillows with children sleeping under moonlit skies, and Milky Way throw blankets.

The night passed uneventfully.

There were some noises in the kitchen as morning approached.

Having woken sluggishly Croaker walked into the dinning area.

A sense of foreboding filled the room.

Landon grappled awkwardly with claustrophobia.

It was disrupted by the chatter of the chestnut -sided warbler.

An oak hook tip moth added charm with its zoom and flutter acrobatics.

“I’ve the creepiest feeling.”

Croaker reasoned.

“BUZZZ ……..Buzzzzz ……Boing.”

My old cell-phone’s text tone.

My boss. Wonder what he wants?”

Landon to himself.

“Dear Landon,

When you return I would like to speak to you about your future with this company.

I can’t go into further details

as it involves a lot of interested parties.

A wide -ranging discussion is in order,

Regards,

Tom Wright

Managing Director.”

Landon’s worst fears now confirmed.

“I’m confused.

Just how pressing is this or …. what is this in front of me?”

A letter from Chesney and Chelsea.

“Hi Landon,

We had to leave quickly.

Help yourself to whatever largesse there is.

Don’t know how long we’ll be.

You can hang around of course or leave.

Don’t break anything!!

Ha ha,

Ches and Chels.”

Incredible! Between the text and the letter who wouldn’t be alarmed?

Landon limped outside to an ear splitting din and a mist laden detritus that merged into pockets of streams steeplechasing each other.

A slimy frog vaulted and cast a damp viscous oil spray in Croaker’s direction.

Something ….a shadow.

“This has been the most peculiar visit I’ve ever had.

Intrigue seems encoded in it.”

Croaker’s anxiety growing.

A tap on the shoulder followed by a crystal shard at his feet.

“The vase remember?

Don’t be so serious ……..we’ve something to discuss with you.”

Chesney said pointedly.

“An Agatha Christie mystery novel has nothing on this.”

Landon fretted.

“We’ve been reflecting, Chelsea and I.

Your presence is an extraordinary coincidence.”

Chesney quizzically.

“We’d like to offer you a job as our accountant.”

Chelsea suggested.

Croaker now shivering.

“You know by now we love to jumpstart even our closest friends.

This post is tailor made for you.”

Chelsea once more.

“Your boss will understand.”

Croaker’s head was now in a spin.

“You like writing don’t you?

There’s plenty of stories here.”

Chelsea opined.

“All this trouble to offer me a job?” Croaker queried.

“We don’t do things by halves.”

Chelsea with Chesney nodding.

A carousel of thoughts flashed through Landon’s mind at this juncture.

He walked in a trance struggling with everything.

“What was in Chelsea’s sports bag I wonder?” Thought Croaker.

“Let’s go for a swim, Landon.

I’ve got swim trunks for us all.”

Chelsea tossed a nylon mesh swim trunks at Landon as everyone changed.

Something slipped out of Chesney’s pocket without him noticing.

It was that letter Chesney removed previously and read as follows.

“Dear Chesney and Chelsea,

As your doctor I regret you won’t be able to have children. It’s with a heavy heart I share this with you.

There are many reasons for this…”

The rest of the letter was creased and illegible.

It was subsequently swept to the river’s edge underneath a Crested Iris by a slight breeze.

Meanwhile, we were all breast stroking energetically while taking the occasional breather.

“You can make up your mind, Landon, at the end of this swim whenever that is and wherever it is taking us.”

Chelsea giggled as she circulated in the eddying stream.

We all started off again as we followed each other’s course.

“Awh, the child within!” Cried Chelsea.

As Landon pondered his fate the mountain looked down imperiously upon us all as the stray deer suddenly reappeared from nowhere.

Maybe that deer did know something after all!

Photograph and short story mantrabay copyright protected.

Many thanks for reading this and other submissions.

#mantrabay #submission sunday #submission #written word #short story #photography #photographers on tumblr #original photography #other #Rush Amid The Rapids

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psychosistr · 3 years

Text

Meet Me Halfway- Chapter 6

Summary: Liquidator wakes up with questions, answers, panic, and more questions.

Notes: Woohoo! First Liquidator POV chapter xD

-First Chapter-

The first thing Liquidator noticed when his consciousness returned to him was how much lighter he felt. Before, everything about his body had been heavy and immovable. Now, though, he felt light and free- the feelings he’d become accustomed to since his mutation into the living mass of liquid.

The second thing he noticed was the slightly heavier feeling of something contaminating his liquid in one area. Forming his eyes answered the question as to what that something was. He spotted some sludge on the far end of whatever vessel his body was currently being contained in. Hating the feeling of the crystal-clear body he took such pride in being contaminated by impurities, he focused and pulled the rest of his water out of and away from the sludge, leaving it pooled on its own on the far end of his container.

And the third thing he noticed was the feeling of something more solid resting idly in his water. Moving so that his recently formed eyes could look at the side of his container, he spotted a gloved hand at the end of a white-clothed sleeve dipping over the side of the vessel so that the arm lay on the rim and the covered fingertips skimmed his water.

Liquidator’s first thoughts on the situation were that he’d been given to some laboratory for testing after his defeat at the hands of “the terror that flaps in the night”. Well, he wasn’t some guinea pig for a bunch of no-necked shut-in’s to drool over as some sort of new scientific marvel for them to stick in a centrifuge!

With a bubbly growl to his voice, Liquidator gathered all of his water together and formed it into his familiar shape with a bit more bulk around the upper body to appear more intimidating and rose up out of his container. “Today’s special- a two-for-one beat down courtesy of the one and only LIQUIDATOR! Act now, supplies are limited!” To his surprise (and mild disappointment) his dramatic entrance and one-liner fell flat as the only other person in the small room was a lone man on the floor by his container. Further surprising and frustrating was the fact that his entrance garnered no reaction whatsoever from the seated scientist. With a frustrated scowl, he picked the scientist up by the front of his lab coat and glared into his goggle-covered eyes. “The surgeon general says ‘ignoring supervillains is detrimental to your health’, so you’d better-!”

His threat was interrupted by a groggy, tired sound finally leaving the previously silent masked man’s throat. “Ngh…” He lifted his head slightly, apparently just now realizing who was in front of him. “Buddy..?”

“!!” The familiar voice shocked Liquidator right out of his previous aggression, making him stare at the small scientist whose covered features were becoming increasingly familiar to him the longer he looked. “Reggie?” He reached up with one hand and removed the mask and goggles, revealing the duck’s familiar face to him. “Reggie, what’s going on?”

“Nmh..sta…a..tue..” Was the only coherent thing to leave the duck’s beak before his head flopped back down and his eyes shut.

“Reggie? Reggie!” Liquidator tried to gently shake the other man awake, but he didn’t stir in the slightest. With a slightly aggravated huff, he set the duck back down on the tiled floor.

Finally taking in his surroundings, Liquidator saw that he wasn’t actually in some laboratory- instead, he was in a small, sparsely decorated bathroom. What he had previously assumed to be some sort of container was actually just an old off-white bathtub. It was that odd combination of too nice to be a cheap motel bathroom but not nice enough to be some sort of corporate-owned building that lead him to the conclusion that he was in a cheap apartment complex- likely Bushroot’s home.

What stood out the most in the cramped room, however, were the buckets of what looked like improperly-mixed wet cement that had been set out around the other side of the tub and on top of the toilet. He noticed a glob of the same substance sitting in the tub that he’d just emerged from and figured that was probably what he felt mixed in with his body earlier.

While looking at the buckets, however, he noticed one of them that was closest to the tub’s opposite corner. Unlike the other buckets with their thick layers of sludge and sediment, this one contained a significantly clearer liquid. Out of curiosity, Liquidator placed the tip of his finger in the bucket and concentrated on reading its contents.

It was an interesting mixture: Hydrogen, oxygen, chlorine-

WAIT!

Those compounds together made-

“Reggie!” Liquidator turned back to the shorter man with an urgent tone to his voice and tried to shake him awake again, this time more roughly than he had before. “How long have you been inhaling this stuff?!”

Despite his shouting and shaking, the duck remained unconscious. Quietly cursing under his breath, Liquidator picked Bushroot up and carried him out of the bathroom and into the adjoining bedroom. After setting Bushroot down on the bed, Liquidator got the only window in the room open with the hopes that it would draw in enough fresh air for his still flesh-and-blood friend.

“Sorry, but you’ll thank me for this later..” He said to the unconscious duck before he began to remove his clothes. The opened lab coat, shoes, and socks came off easy enough, but the buttons on the pants and shirt proved more of a challenge to the watery canine and his fluid fingers- the pieces of plastic slipping through and occasionally into his digits. “To heck with it- I’ll steal you some nicer clothes later..” Letting out another frustrated growl, Liquidator firmly grasped the sides of the shirt and tore it open, destroying many of the buttons in the process.

After repeating the process with the button on Bushroot’s pants, he gathered up the ruined clothing and the other articles he’d already taken off (he left the duck his modesty by keeping his underpants on- those would probably be the least contaminated) and hurried back into the bathroom.

Clearing the bathtub of the residual concrete, Liquidator summoned a strong flow of water from the bathtub’s faucet and left the clothes to soak in the clean water for the time being. While the clothes were being dealt with, he grabbed the troublesome bucket from earlier and carried it into the kitchen.

“Let’s hope you keep your cupboards stocked, Reggie..” Liquidator mumbled to himself while rummaging through the various cabinets and cupboards. After a moment, he found exactly what he was looking for. “Aha! Just what the doctor ordered! Well, what he WOULD order if he were awake.” He said while pulling out a box of baking soda.

The clever canine diligently dissolved the baking soda into the bucket of chemicals, going slowly as to not trigger any unfavorable reactions. Once the threatening concoction was properly neutralized, he let out a relieved sigh and walked back into the bedroom to check on the resting scientist.

Placing a hand on the duck’s forehead, Liquidator frowned at the unusually high amount of heat that he could feel seeping into his watery palm. “Oh Reggie, what have you done..?”

_______________________________________________________________

Bushroot didn’t wake up for several hours.

Liquidator did what he could to ensure the duck’s full recovery: Carefully washed the other man’s face repeatedly, taking great care to make sure the beak was fully cleansed of any lingering residue. Placed a cold hand on his forehead for twenty minutes once every hour to help keep his temperature down. And, with the aid of the adjoining bathroom’s faucet and some cleaned out buckets, used hot water combined with his own mastery of liquids to humidify the air and make sure the water molecules wouldn’t be blown away by the fresh air coming in through the window.

In between the time he spent taking care of the other man, Liquidator tried to keep himself busy with little things such as finishing the cleanup of Bushroot’s contaminated clothes and looking around the apartment. Unfortunately, cleaning up proved more entertaining than the option of looking around as the duck really didn’t have much available in the way of entertainment other than the television set in the living room. He managed to freeze one of his fingers long enough to turn the television on, but it was the time of day where nothing good was playing, anyway.

Returning to the bathroom to see if there was anything else he could do, Liquidator noticed something he’d missed before- a notebook and a set of tools sitting on the back of the toilet. Out of curiosity and boredom, Liquidator froze one of his fingers again and used it to flick through the pages of the notebook.

It seemed to be a scientific journal used for making observation notes on various types of plants. As he got closer to the more recent pages, though, the notes changed from plant-based biological observations to chemical formulas and theories. There was a crude drawing of Liquidator himself featured on one of the pages with the basic formula for cement written off to the side. After that were pages upon pages of notes and formulas, many of which was scribbled over and/or re-written with arrows drawn from one side of the page to the other to suggest a possible link between solutions. Judging by the amount of writing, Bushroot must have spent several hours trying to figure out a way to separate Liquidator from his stone prison.

As Liquidator glanced at the numerous buckets of concrete sludge that still filled the small bathroom, he realized that it must have taken several more hours actually getting him out the cement…

Closing the book once again, Liquidator’s eyes drifted over to the tools that had been lying next to it- a hammer and a chisel.

“Glad I wasn’t awake to feel THAT..” He commented while picking up the chisel and looking at the normally flat-edged implement that had been significantly dulled by going above and beyond to fulfill its purpose.

With a shake of his head, Liquidator set the tool back down and wandered back into the bedroom to check on Bushroot for what felt like the fiftieth time. In the process of doing so, he noticed something he’d missed before while undressing the duck and treating him- his gloves were still on. Honestly, they’d been very low on his priority-driven radar that he hadn’t even noticed they were there.

“Might as well get rid of those, too..” He flowed over to the bed and began carefully peeling the first rubber-covering off of the dozing doctor’s digits. Getting them off, however, revealed something else he’d failed to notice before: Blood. “!!” Liquidator’s eyes widened in momentary panic as he tossed the glove aside and moved Bushroot’s hand to get a better view of it. “Did you get that stuff in your gloves?!!”

After rinsing the other man’s hand off, the supervillain was relieved to see that the wounds weren’t from chemical burns. No, they were simply blisters, most likely from the hours he spent breaking the stone apart with the hammer and chisel, that had burst and bled into the glove. Removing its twin revealed similar blisters on Bushroot’s other hand that made Liquidator frown.

‘Why would you go this far?’ Liquidator wondered not for the first time that day, silently taking both of Bushroot’s hands in his own and submerging the blisters in his cool water to ease their pain.

People were inherently greedy and selfish- that was the law of the world that he, as Bud Flood, had long come to accept in life. No one did anything without expecting something in return.

Parents raised their children and gave them what they needed to survive. The “good” ones went even further and have their children things they didn’t need but merely wanted to make them happy. They encouraged and/or pushed their children to do well in school and find good jobs as adults so they would be financially stable. This was all just training and compensation, though, so that the parents could cash in on their children’s success and finances and have someone to either take care of them or pay to have someone else take care of them when they were too feeble to do so themselves anymore.

At work, people would be polite and genial to their coworkers and superiors, offering to do tasks that went above their assigned responsibilities for the sake of appearing helpful. They were all just trying to make themselves look better, though- they all secretly wanted to get on the good side of the higher-ups so they could get benefits like being considered first for promotions or raises. As soon as someone got in their way- someone better at pretending to be nice or who seemed more intelligent or talented- you’d see their true colors come out as they worked to sabotage the competition without getting caught. Who cares if it ruins someone’s life? All that matters is climbing the corporate ladder to the top.

Even romance, the ultimate, life-defining source of happiness according to so many people, came with a price. Falling in love was supposed to be a grand thing, a way to find someone else to spend your life with- someone to share your happiness with and lean on in times of hardship- that so called “missing piece” of yourself. In the end, though, all anyone really gets is extra emotional baggage from dealing with your own problems as well as someone else’s in exchange for the rights to say “Look, I’m in a relationship with that person- I’m normal!” and feel included for once. Eventually the high of happiness and romance fades and, when you realize you’ve condemned yourself to being with someone whom you have almost nothing in common with, you either kill your soul with the constant fights caused by bitterness and despair for the sake of “making it work” or you play heartbreak-russian-roulette to see who’ll pull the trigger first and end the pain for all parties involved.

Everybody always wanted something from him, that’s what Bud Flood had come to expect. It was why he’d worked so hard maintaining his double-life: To the public, he was a good, honest man who cared about the safety of his customers and put their needs first, making him seem kind and approachable. Behind closed doors, he was a ruthless, tyrannical businessman who would doom whomever he needed to just to get ahead in life.

After all, anyone else would do the same if they could, right? They would act kind and friendly to make him lower his guard, then wait for the chance to take something from him- his money, his success, his heart- you name it. In the end, it would happen one way or another..

………

So why was he wasting so much time with this meek, anxiety-prone, attention-starved, blabber-mouth of a scientist who wasn’t even THAT attractive?

If he had to pick a reason, it was probably because the duck was so transparent and straight-forward that he was easy for Liquidator to understand and predict. Bushroot was lonely, eager for attention and companionship, and honest to a fault (the guy probably couldn’t lie to save his own life). In a situation that came down to “take advantage or be taken advantage of”, Bushroot was much more likely to be the one taken advantage of since he would bend over backwards for the supervillain’s approval. He was simple and plain and far from complex.

At least, that’s how it had started out…

While the scientist was still very obviously desperate for attention and approval, Liquidator had to admit to himself that there were things about him that were less predictable than he originally thought. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought the bird would go as far as he did to free him from his concrete prison- to expose himself to dangerous chemicals and spend who knows how long breaking his solidified body apart just to set him free. Sure, they’d built some form of casual friendship since they’d met in the greenhouse, but they’d only known each other for a couple weeks! Liquidator doubted anyone else in his former life, people he’d known for years, would have gone so far to help him..

Would Bushroot want anything in return for his help? A slice of the profit from Liquidator’s next scheme? Reimbursement for his time and services? He could ask for just about anything-

“L…Liqui…?” A tired voice asked him from the bed.

Looking down at the small scientist’s face, Liquidator saw a pair of barely open blue eyes looking in his direction. Bushroot still looked exhausted and a bit out of it, barely keeping his focus on the water-dog’s general direction for more than a second before he had to jerk his drifting eyes back in place. He’d likely need some more rest before he could be trusted on his own again.

“The one and only- sometimes imitated, but never bested!” Liquidator joked with a grin, moving one hand up to touch Bushroot’s head and check his temperature. “So, how is Saint Canard’s number one criminal-aiding scientist feeling?”

“Dizzy…tired..” He mumbled before giving Liquidator a tired smile. “And..happy…you’re here..”

“……” Liquidator was tempted to ask his questions now, but he bit his tongue and used the hand still on Bushroot’s forehead to gently touch the side of his face. “Thanks to you..” His earlier grin softened slightly as he spoke. “Now, get some more rest- doctor’s orders.”

“Not a doctor..” The still sleepy duck replied before his eyes drifted closed of their own accord and he fell back asleep.

Liquidator’s smile fell slightly once the duck’s eyes were shut once more, leaving him alone with his thoughts again. Part of him still wanted to know what Bushroot expected to get for helping him. Part of him had a feeling he already knew the answer. And a third, smaller part of him told him what he WANTED the answer to be…

He took the hand he was still holding and brought it to his lips, giving it a light kiss. “Sleep easy, Reggie- you’ve earned it..”

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End Notes: For reference, the compound that Bushroot was working with was a type of hydrochloric acid: Not only is it dangerous to get it on your skin, it's also dangerous to inhale for lengthy periods of time, hence Liquidator's panic when he realized what it was.

To treat it properly, you should ALWAYS go to a hospital. Since Liquidator's a wanted felon, however, he did everything else you're supposed to do to help people who've inhaled the fumes for too long: Remove them from the area, get them plenty of fresh air, remove any clothing that may have been exposed to the fumes as well so they don't continue to inhale them, and, ideally, repeatedly wash their face and body off to make sure there's no lingering residue for them to inhale later before having them breathe in humidified air to flush everything out of their lungs.

Now, having said this, I am NOT a doctor or a chemist, so please just contact 911 if you're ever exposed to these chemicals!

#darkwing duck #dwd #bushroot #liquidator #liquiroot #meet me halfway

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