#you are giving so much of yourselves every day to your employer the LEAST they can do is treat you with respect | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Slumbering Hearts (Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: None Summary: In a wicked twist of fate, you find out your soulmate is none other than your employer, Lady Dimitrescu. To your misery, she (at first) seems equally displeased, her heart already belonging to another. But in time, the two of you find yourselves wondering… could the universe be right, after all? Soulmate AU in which every person has a unique “soul mark”, which they share with their soulmate. Notes: Reader gets a bit of a backstory here, with just enough concrete details to serve the plot in future chapters. Hopefully enough is kept vague for people to enjoy it. Now... Time to meet your new kids-in-law/the gremlins :) Previous Chapters: 1: In The Shadow Of Giants

2: Uncertain Destinations

“You already know my name, as well as my fate, and I have neither threats nor demands to make of you. I am at your mercy, regrettably, with nothing more to say. Shall we consider ourselves ‘introduced’? Or is there more you wish to ask of me?” You wonder, eying ‘Alcina’ with a bored expression. It felt odd to refer to her that way, even within the confines of your mind. She had been ‘Lady Dimitrescu’ for as long as you could remember; starting with your years in the village, and continuing through your months here at the castle. One day, perhaps, you would grow used to calling her by her first name. For now, you simply hoped to focus on other matters.

“Tell me of yourself, your past. Who were you before you came here?” Alcina asks, surprising you. What did it matter, now that you were stuck here? At first you shrug, avoiding eye contact, not wanting to open yourself up to her. But before long she’s placed a hand on your shoulder, applying just enough pressure to encourage you to speak. You win this round, you think.

“Somehow I doubt you’ll find it terribly interesting. I was born in the outskirts of the village, on a small farm, just like any other. I had a pet dog, went to ‘school’ with my neighbors, and spent my weekends volunteering with the church. The only thing you might not expect is that I lived outside the village for about a decade. Traveled for a while, never really staying anywhere for terribly long. Eventually, I got tired, and so I came back to help my parents with what little property they had left,” you explain, quietly. Being vague had been intentional, considering the nature of a few details. Did she need to know why you had left? Or that you had once revered Mother Miranda?... No, because if she learned that, it would not be long before she learned that you had changed your mind years ago. Something told you that she wouldn’t appreciate your lack of faith in her mistress. “That was six months ago, roughly. Barely got to spend time with my parents before I was ‘donated’ to the staff here.”

“Not many ever leave the village. Those that do rarely, if ever, return. How particular,” Alcina replies, giving a soft hum. There’s something in her expression that tells you she’ll eventually ask you to elaborate. For now, however, she seems content to move on. Internally you sigh in relief. “I suppose this is sufficient to sate my curiosity, for the time being. Now come with me, I’d like to introduce you to my daughters, to ensure that they understand you are… off limits.” With that said she stands, once more reminding you just how small and fragile you are in comparison, before heading towards the exit. You’re nearly forced to jog in order to keep up with her long strides. As she leads you through hallways, down a flight of stairs, and past several nervous looking maidens, she slows down the slightest bit, having eventually noticed your struggle. Admittedly, that’s more kindness than you would have anticipated. Perhaps she was used to adjusting her pace for her daughters?

Whatever the reason, you do appreciate it. Still, by the time you arrive at your destination, the castle’s library, your legs are feeling the smallest bit sore. Brushing off the ache, you follow Alcina inside. Then you’re taking in the sights, having not been here before, admiring the impressive collection. Glad I’m not responsible for cleaning this place, you think as you pass by dozens of filled shelves. Before long you encounter the three daughters. They’re sitting in a semi-circle, each with their own book, though they’re quick to sit up once they spy their mother. One by one they’re smiling up at her, not even sparing you a moment’s glance. Admittedly you’re glad for that. What good could come from their attention, especially when they don’t yet know who you ‘truly’ are?

“I’m glad to see you’re all in one place, my darlings. There has been a… development, of sorts,” Alcina says, speaking in the same tone one might use to address a faculty meeting. In a less intimidating household, it would have been much harder to hold in a laugh. Was this always how she spoke to her children? For their sake, you hoped not (though the concept was amusing). Regardless, it is at this point that the daughters notice you, with one of them looking intrigued enough to send a shiver down your spine. You’re pretty sure her name is Daniela, being the only one you haven’t met before today. A toothy grin spreads on her lips, and once you make eye contact you swear that she winks at you. This literally could not be any worse, you think, unable to stop yourself from frowning.

“Does it have to do with this little thing?” Daniela purrs, taking a step towards you. Instantly both Alcina and yourself are tensing up. While your soulmate shifts in front of you, an incredibly faint rosy tint to her cheeks, all you can do is pinch the bridge of your nose between two fingers.

“This ‘little thing’ is not your newest playtoy, Daniela. Rather, they are my-” she hesitates, disliking the way the word feels in her mouth- “soulmate. I expect the three of you to behave, understood? At the very most, you are allowed to prevent them from leaving the premises, but even then I expect you to remain gentle. Have I made myself clear?” Alcina asks. Now she’s not the only one blushing, as Daniela looks so embarrassed that you wonder if she’ll pass out. Maybe now you’ll think twice about flirting with everyone you meet, you think, remembering the various rumors you’ve heard about her. For a moment, part of you imagines what your relationship with her would look like, were you to continue ‘courting’ her mother. Could this be a moment you could torment her with for life? Get some cheeky revenge for all the maidens who couldn’t risk it? A lovely thought, though one soon interrupted.

“Of course, mother. We will not lay a single finger on them, unless we have no other choice. Right, sisters?” Bela replies, turning to her siblings with an expectant look. Neither of them seem terribly pleased, but they nod, each giving their own verbal affirmations. All three spend a few moments glancing you over, reevaluating you now that they know who you are, appraising your worth. It’s not hard to imagine that they all find you lacking- at least in comparison to their mother. “Are introductions in order? We’ve met before, but I hardly know anything about them. It would be… nice to properly meet the newest edition to our family.” The way Bela says the words makes you nervous, and the way Cassandra grins only worsens the feeling.

“If you desire such, I see no reason to forgo such a thing. Perhaps the three of you could give them a tour? I must return to my duties, and I doubt they have seen much of the castle, given their… former occupation,” Alcina admits, softly. Was this a confirmation that you’d no longer have to spend every day working yourself to the bone? On one hand you were somewhat relieved, but you also regretted the possible loss of your preferred coping method. Worse, were you really going to spend who knows how long with the dreaded Dimitrescu daughters? They were going to rip you to shreds, at least verbally, you were sure of it. How could you ever meet their expectations? If they were anything like their mother, you would never be enough to satisfy them. Or at least that is what you assumed.

“I’ve seen a fair bit,” you interject, awkwardly, hating the way it brings everyone’s gaze back to you. Alcina’s lips twitch, as she fights back a frown. Evidently she didn’t appreciate you countering her suggestion.

“Please, we insist,” Bela fires back, a pleasant tone covering her thinly-veiled animosity. “I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful time getting to know each other. You do want to learn more about your soulmate’s children, don’t you?” Something about the way she speaks makes you want to laugh. When you smile back at her, it’s without a hint of any placating intentions, rather a dewdrop of mischief. Bold of her to assume that you wanted to make her mother happy. After all, it was clear from her phrasing that this was a ‘test’, a ruse to ‘reveal your true colors’ to Alcina. But you were as uneasy about your part in this as Bela was, neither of you finding yourself a suitable match for Alcina. Despite the way she narrows her eyes at you, her mother is smiling again, glad that she had a way to keep you occupied for the time being.

“It’s settled then,” she says, moving to give each of her daughters a kiss on top of their heads. They giggle at the affection, looking rather proud of themselves. Then she turns to you, hesitating, clearly having the instinct to give you a kiss as well. Half of you wants to stand on your tippy-toes, expectantly, wondering if she’d do it (and how flustered it would make her). Instead, you pretend not to notice, accepting the awkward shoulder pat she ends up giving you. “I will see you this evening, for dinner. Do try to enjoy yourself. But don’t forget-” she leans in until her mouth is right next to your ear, breath tickling your neck- “behave yourself. I will not tolerate any tomfoolery, understood?” Alcina does not pull away until you’ve nodded, and you do not relax until the library door has shut behind her.

Except now you’re alone with her daughters. Wonderful.

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

Dealing with finances was not, to put it simply, Alcina’s ‘favorite’ activity. Although she employed someone to handle the majority of the paperwork, she made sure to go over it herself to ensure accuracy. There were many aspects to her business, being both legitimate and illegitimate, technically. One could never be too careful about their records. After all, failing to file tax returns had taken down Al Capone, of all people. Who was to say that such a mistake, or one in a similar vein, could not damage House Dimitrescu? Certainly it wouldn’t be enough to ruin them entirely, but it could lead to certain ‘nuisances’ bothering the village. At the end of the day, Alcina cared more about the impact it would have on Mother Miranda than anything else, even the possible decline of her household.

A nasty habit, really. Few knew the extent of her self-entitled devotion to the cult leader. The only bond that ran deeper was that she had with her daughters, who meant more to her than she could ever vocalize. Even then, she viewed them as a gift from Miranda, which in turn strengthened her love for the woman. Now that love leaked into everything she did. With a flourish of her pen, she signed away some of this month’s earnings. So what if she already ‘donated’ a large portion of her income to the village and its leader? Certainly this was a way to show the level of her devotion? Certainly Miranda would take notice, eventually? Praise her for it? Take Alcina’s hand in her own, thumb caressing her skin, eyes filled with a long-sought affection?...

The sound of passing footsteps brings her back into the moment, and Alcina stares down at the mountain of paperwork she’d yet to approve. With a deep sigh she readjusts her reading glasses, sets the finished document aside, then gets back to work. A part of her mind soon starts to drift to other subjects. To you, primarily. Would your affection be easier to gain? Steadier?... But could it, in any way, compare to Miranda’s? No matter how she tries to brush the thoughts away, they nip at her heels, circling her head like vultures. Only time would give her the relief she so desperately sought.

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

“So, don’t tell me you really think you’re my mother’s soulmate, right?” Cassandra says, somewhat grumbling, as you trail behind Bela. It’s less than five minutes into the tour, with the siblings having behaved so far, focused on actually showing you around. At her words, both her sisters started walking slower. Their gazes were still locked ahead of themselves. The way they positioned themselves, however, made it clear that they were listening. “Is it some elaborate scheme, hmm? Did you spend a dozen hours with the other servants, noting every last detail about her soul mark, before copying it? Do you really think that you’ll get away with this?” Well, ‘twas good to know who the most paranoid of the three were.

“Ah, yes, it’s all a great, horrible ruse. You’ve caught me red-handed, I’m afraid,” you chime, sarcastically. A hand goes to your forehead as you fake faintness. “I’m just so desperate to be scrutinized by yourself and your mother, to have my every movement watched, to somehow be less free than I already was. I simply… cannot… believe… that you saw through my bluff.” With that you give a dramatic sigh, pausing in the hallway to give Cassandra a judgemental look. If not for Alcina’s instructions to keep you safe, you’re certain she would have beheaded you on the spot. “I’m not claiming to understand the universe’s decision. But I’m also not giving up immediately, no matter how much the three of you scare me.” At that, Bela stops in her tracks, slowly turning to you. Instinctively you go to take a step backwards, only for Cassandra to catch you, holding you in place. Next thing you know, the oldest daughter is grabbing your head, staring you right in the eyes.

“Answer one question, and maybe I’ll make sure you don’t fall victim to some tragic, unfortunate accident. Can you see yourself loving my mother?” Bela asks, more intense than you’ve ever seen her before. Despite that, you don’t tremble, swallowing your fear long enough to reply.

“Honestly? I don’t know. She’s terrifying… and beautiful. Cruel to some of the maidens I’ve met… and loving to you three. I… I don’t know if I can love her,” you admit, gulping. “But isn’t that part of the point of trying? To find out? I am going to try, for both my sake and hers, to love her. To cherish her. What more would you ask of me? I cannot tell you how the days to come will go, whether or not your mother will enjoy them, or even whether she could love me. This is not a situation you can threaten into resolving the way you want it to. So let me go, finish the tour, and give me a chance. You owe your mother that much, do you not?” Soon enough the hands keeping you in place loosen their grip, and Bela turns away with a scoff. Honestly, you can hardly believe that your little speech worked. You aren’t given much time to celebrate, however, as the sisters quickly resume their walking. Before long, Daniela is speaking up between giggles.

“I like this one already.”

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #gremlin trio is protective #they're like #you're not cool enough for our mom #hey tumb please stop fucking up the order of my tags #this is the second time you've messed up my attempt at being funny

307 notes · View notes

writing-in-april · 3 years

Text

Spooks

Raymond Wadsworth X Female Reader

Summary: Raymond starts sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong at the next haunting he’s investigating.

A/N: Hey heyyy- here’s my second fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April 2021!!! I had this spur of the moment idea in the middle of the night and ended up writing a pretty long fic for it (at least long for me lol) I had a lot of fun writing it and really liked the idea- I hope you all enjoy it too! Drop something in my ask box here if you’d like!! I’m always looking for feedback and my requests are open as well! Thanks for reading!!!

Warnings: 18+, Ghosts & poltergeists, Smut, Sub Raymond, Unprotected sex, Sex in a car, Slight cum play

Main Masterlist Word count: 3.2k

Your job description wasn’t an easy one to describe, you could say Mulder and Scully would be the most accurate equivalent. Though as with all tv shows it was portrayed with a set of rose tinted glasses, giving a filter to any realities you faced on the job.

You and your department preferred to call yourselves spooks, truthfully only because the pun was funny. In reality your 8 person department were called agents just like the rest of the FBI, you guys were just more secretive than the others.

Most of the time you ended up getting handed the short straw when getting new cases as you were still the newest on the team, despite being there for several years already. Unlike most professionals in law enforcement you did not have a partner, it only slowed you down. Every place that you were scheduled to decontaminate was an in and out procedure streamlined for effectiveness, adding another body to be hyper vigilant about was a hassle. You operated alone.

Any type of paranormal phenomena that you could think of was thrown in front of you. In your opinion the cases you had the most fun on were the ones that dealt with aliens, though some ghosts could be fun on occasion. The most recent case I had to deal with was a nasty poltergeist, the worst type of ghost. They always wreaked the most havoc on whatever house or place they occupied.

The family in this house had moved out a while ago, the request to decontaminate the home had been sitting on one of your supervisors for a while. It was an old house, built around the late 1800s. Old enough that it had a bunch of unnecessary rooms, like the parlor room that you found yourself trapped in.

And, you weren’t on your own either. Trapped with you was a man with fluffy brown hair flying in any direction, his eyes a darker shade of brown that were filled with fear- yet also curiosity. He was wearing a blue romper, it looked good on him, from what you had seen while you were frantic. But, you highly doubted that it would be effective clothes for a paranormal investigation, maybe he had just stumbled across this place out of curiosity. Either that or he was the type of an inexperienced investigator who had probably had one encounter with a ghost. It did not change that he was cute though.

“I’m a paranormal investigator- uhh technically a supernatural detective! My name’s Raymond! Who are you?!” He sputtered out, ranting probably to try to push aside his fear. You were standing side by side holding the double doors of the entrance to the parlor room, pushing them down to prevent the poltergeist from ramming it down and attacking us.

“Not important!” You snapped back at him, throwing a glare at him. Even if it wasn’t such a tense situation, you weren’t supposed to give away your identity or your job description to just anyone.

With another gasping breath he asked another question, even though you hadn’t answered his first inquiry, “I came with a girl, her name’s Becca- did you see her?”

This one you would bother to answer as he was quite obviously worried about the well being of his companion, “I may have seen her speed away in a red car after she was thrown out of the house. Was that your car she took?”

Not that you really cared all that much, but if he had been stripped of his transportation by his partner you’d have to take him in your own car. Not that you really wanted to, you still would have to help him even though he was seriously hindering your decontamination. “No, I came in my own car.” He answered which made you breathe a sigh of relief, you wouldn’t have to deal with another issue after you escaped, “I don’t blame her honestly, if I could leave I would.”

You were about to answer when your pressure on the doors wasn’t enough, making you both stumble forward. When you stumbled forward your keys, along with your badge, fell out of your pocket. Your badge flipped open front and center to reveal your name, plus the exact agency you worked for in a bold logo.

“You’re an FBI agent?!” You could not confirm or deny what he had asked, you were firmly focused on scrambling to get your things and avoid the ghost that was now throwing furniture at the two of you.

When Raymond finally took notice of the being that was pelting heavy objects around you, a ghostly shape in the form of a woman with a tortured look on her face, he screamed bloody murder. It was not unlike that of a scooby doo cartoon, him obviously resembling Shaggy almost perfectly. If only he had a dog to jump into his arms before he comically zoomed away while remarking “zoinks!”

His frazzled response to the ghosts giving a rather mediocre jump scare made you wonder whether he had the credentials to back up his job title as a paranormal investigator- or as he called it a supernatural detective. You racked your brain to try and recall anytime you had seen a Raymond or a Becca on the long lists of people that were being monitored for potential involvement, coming up with nothing. Well, maybe they were new, as his reaction seemed to indicate.

Your own reaction was stoic as usual, your nerves no longer jumped and your heart no longer quickened to the visage of a ghost trying to spook you. It was in no doubt for some arcane reason probably linked to revenge towards people that no longer existed. One would normally say don’t assume anything about people, that it might offend them to assume, but dead people in your view also had dead opinions- plus relying on precedent was usually a good option when a ghost might be trying to kill you. Despite the absence of fear from you there would be no call out of “Let’s split up gang!” either. It was you mostly not wanting to explain to your employer how you lost a citizen in the middle of this place and- besides that you couldn’t deny that you didn’t want him to die no matter how much undeniable extra trouble he was causing.

“Let’s go.” Your voice was firm, no discernible room for argument or questions.

Raymond somehow found a way to wriggle in to asking yet another question, “Where are we going?”

You yanked his hand out of the room that you think might’ve been a parlor room back in it’s day. You shouldn’t have bothered to answer as it would breed more questions from him, you already gave away too much about who you are and what you do. Any extra questions you answer from him was just creating a bigger breach in your security. Yet you found yourself justifying an answer, his eyes that were probably pulled into an adorable curious look laced with fear bored into the back of your skull as you dragged him out of the room and to the nearest exit. It was only a harmless question, it didn’t even have a satisfying answer, “Anywhere but here!”

Weaving my way through the house that was better characterized as a maze was hard to navigate through. At every turn some sort of iteration of the poltergeist tried to capture us, to pull us into death with it.

The two of us did eventually find the front door, only to find that we could not pull it open, the handle was stuck.

“Step back!” You shouted at Raymond to get him to move out of the way while you prepared to kick the door down. He skittered over to be right behind you, looking over his shoulder in paranoia. You used your right foot to kick the door, using all the leg strength you could muster. After three kicks, the door burst open, letting you both free.

Scurrying quickly to your government given work vehicle, looking back for a second to make sure that Raymond was following you. You couldn’t let a civilian die here, no matter how much of a nuisance he was, and he was cute of course.

Pulling out the last resort from the trunk of your car, gasoline, you then shoved a container of it to your unexpected companion.

“Cover as much of the house as you can!” He made no argument with your plan, running right behind you back up to the house to cover it all in gasoline. Once you had both covered it as much as possible you made sure Raymond was standing back before you lit your lighter and chucked it into the wood wet with the accelerant.

As soon as you could confirm with your eyes that the house had sparked with fire, you grabbed Raymond’s arm again to drag him to your car, not even caring about the one he had come here in. You basically threw yourself into the driver's seat, starting to drive away immediately after Raymond had sat down, before he had even shut the side door.

Adrenaline was coursing through your veins, causing your heart to pound hard enough that it felt like it could burst out of your chest. It was not unusual in your field of work, to feel death brush right by you.

“My car?!” Raymond screamed, his body turned so he was looking out of your back window.

“Sorry no time to go back! The U.S government will reimburse you for that- maybe…” You said quickly, while trying to step harder down on the gas pedal to speed away.

The house behind you was burning so bright from you could hear the crackling from the house turning to ash. You imagined that the flames and smoke were big enough to be seen for miles, considering how much accelerant you poured on it. So much for being subtle, your boss was definitely going to chew you out for that.

When you had gained a sufficient enough distance away from the flames you pulled off into a parking lot adjacent to a park. Pulling into the parking space fast you then hit the brakes hard, jostling you two a bit.

Taking a deep breath you slumped forward to rest your head on your steering wheel, just for a moment of relaxation.

“You know burning it down won’t necessarily get rid of it.” You only grunted in response to his matter of fact statement. Your lack of response seemed to make him even more anxious, tapping his fingers on any surface that was around him to preoccupy his mind while you took your breather. He tried to fill the silence that was making him uncomfortable, “So what do you actually do?”

You sighed deeply against the steering wheel one last time, then leaning off of it to sit back in the seat. You decided that you might as well give him a small morsel of information that may satiate his curiosity, “That’s highly classified, but you could probably figure it out.”

His insistence to bring up what your job is was making your insides twist with anxiety. You were already dreading what would happen when you got back to the office. It would be a lot of paperwork to explain everything that happened, plus you’d have to submit an application on behalf of Raymond to get his car reimbursed.

The adrenaline that had spiked in your veins born out of fear was still present. It was overwhelming, and you felt the need to use it for something different than wallowing in your fear.

You redirected your gaze to fixate on Raymond, who could surely help you redirect your adrenaline. He was an attractive man, who’s personality did help make him even more desirable. Even though he was a pain in your ass, he was a cute and funny one.

His own eyes were fixated on yours as well, with a different look than what you had seen earlier. His eyes were deepened with lust, not fear, though there was still an ounce of curiosity in them- probably still wondering who exactly I was.

Grabbing the hairs at the back of his neck you then pulled him forward to crush your lips onto his. He reciprocated immediately, though did not try to challenge your dominance over the kiss. He let you slip your tongue into his mouth, exploring him with diligence.

You wanted him closer to you, feeling every inch of him. So you swung your legs over his lap as best you could with the space you had to straddle him. When you did so you barely let his lips come off your own, too greedy to let them separate from yours.

A thought however was nagging you in the back of your head as you continued to melt yourself into the kiss, he had mentioned a companion that he had been worried about earlier. You did not want to step on any toes, nor endorse any type of cheating. You separated your lips from his own, even though you wanted nothing more than to envelop him in another kiss.

“This ok with you?” Your words were said right into his lips, mingling your breath with his, “You’re not with that Becca girl are you?”

“Not anymore- and yes I’m totally ok with this.” He confirmed before surging up to meet his lips with your own again. You wasted no time in starting to grind your hips onto his cock that was swiftly growing underneath his shorts. Just from grinding you could feel how large he was, even through a couple of layers.

He moved his hands to the button of your pants when you moved your lips to start nipping and sucking on his neck and jaw. You tried to kick off the articles of clothing on your lower half, panties included, without removing your lips from him. Unfortunately you had to do so because of the amount of space. You cursed under your breath, wishing that the government had paid to give you a larger vehicle.

You were already slick with arousal, also aided by sticking your fingers into his mouth to get them sufficiently wet. He bobbed his head up and down on them eagerly until you were satisfied. Removing them from his mouth you ran them up and down along your slit, getting you even more wet.

You guided his length to your entrance, not sinking down immediately. You undulated your hips so his length was coated with your arousal as well. When he bucked his hips in impatience you just pushed them down back into the seat. Then you leaned down to whisper into the shell of his ear to be patient- he’d get what he wanted.

“Fuck me.” Was all Raymond could muster up to whimper when you sunk down onto his cock, his head falling back to hit the headrest. You wasted no time in starting a fast pace, bouncing up and down on him with vigor. Raymond grabbed onto your hips when he couldn’t find anything else to hold onto, digging his fingers into your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

His large cock bumped up against your cervix in the most pleasurable way possible as you swivel your hips over him. Your own head tilted back, your mouth opened wide to let out a loud moan when his cock hit a particularly pleasurable spot inside you. You also felt the need to hold onto something as your release began to build inside you, getting ready to snap. So you grabbed onto the best thing you could find, running your hands through his hair and pulling on his strands.

One of his hands then moved to toy with your clit,his movements were a bit fumbled, but it swiftly made your orgasm start to crest. You were almost disappointed about how quickly this was going to be over, you however couldn’t deny that it felt amazing even with the frantic pace. In the back of your mind you couldn’t help but imagine all the other things you could do to Raymond if you were given the chance.

You fell apart above him, your eyes rolling back into your head. The adrenaline still coursed through your veins, and it felt good to have it redirected to a pleasurable experience instead of fear. You kept yourself impaled on his cock for a bit after your orgasm had finished, relishing at the feeling of him inside you.

Slipping out of him was a little bit awkward because of how cramped the space was. Once his cock slipped out of you, both of you groaning at the loss of him inside of you, you wrapped your hand around his length. You started to pump him slowly in your hands, taking your time compared to earlier. Your adrenaline had abated a bit and now you wanted to see how long you could drag this out, in case you never got the chance to again.

However, It still didn’t take much movement from your hands for him to get close, he was already close to the edge from being inside you. His hips bucked up into your hands a bit before he begged, “C-can you put- your hands- around my throat?”

“Should’ve known you’d be into that.” You snarked back a bit in response to his plea. Your tone had no sympathy for him, making him obviously think that you weren’t going to oblige him by the look in his eyes. That look of pure desperation in his eyes, with his kiss swollen lips, and his curls disheveled made you buckle. He groaned loudly when you put your free hand around his neck. You only applied a small amount of pressure, but that was all Raymond needed for him to cum all over your hand.

Once you had helped him ride out his own orgasm you removed your hand from his neck and his cock. You did need to clean up the hand that was covered in his thick ropes of cum, so you brought it up to your mouth to lick it clean.

“Fuck me…” Echoing his previous words, this time with an even bigger whimper. After you had cleaned yourself and him up enough to be decent you flung yourself back to sit in the driver’s seat again.

Raymond was silent for a minute, which seemed odd if you were going off of what little experience you had with him so far. Though maybe he was still going through his post orgasm relaxation just as you were. He then broke the silence, by asking the same question again, even though you had wanted to answer it just about 30 minutes ago. You’d bet money on the reason that he kept asking, being that each time that you answered you gave him a small hint, “Will you tell me now what you actually do?”

“Maybe- if you get to know me better.” You turned the key to start the engine again then asking with another hint as to what your job was, “Consider this your lucky day, you’ve got a spook as your chauffeur. Now, where next Raymond?”

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

#raymond wadsworth x reader #raymond wadsworth #matthew gray gubler x reader #suburban gothic fanfic #matthew gray gubler #suburban gothic #raymond wadsworth smut #matthew gray gubler smut #mgg #mgg x reader #30 fics in 30 days

169 notes · View notes

arcticdementor · 3 years

Link

The University of California system is getting rid of its SAT/ACT requirement. More will follow.

There’s a lot to say. First, we must distinguish between two types of tests, or really two types of testing. When people say “standardized tests,” they think of the SAT, but they also think of state-mandated exams (usually bought, at great taxpayer expense, from Pearson and other for-profit companies) that are designed to serve as assessments of public K-12 schools, of aggregates and averages of students. The SAT, ACT, GRE, GMAT, LSAT, MCAT, and similar tests are oriented towards individual ability or aptitude; they exist to show prerequisite skills to admissions officers. (And, in one of the most essential purposes of college admissions, to employers, who are restricted in the types of testing they can perform thanks to Griggs v Duke Power Co.) Sure, sometimes researchers will use SAT data to reflect on, for example, the fact that there’s no underlying educational justification for higher graduation rates1, but SATs are really about the individual. State K-12 testing is about cities and districts, and exists to provide (typically dubious) justification for changes to education policy2. SATs and similar help admissions officers sort students for spots in undergraduate and graduate programs. This post is about those predictive entrance tests like the SAT.

Liberals repeat several types of myths about the SAT/ACT with such utter confidence and repetition that they’ve become a kind of holy writ. But myths they are.

1. SATs/ACTs don’t predict college success. They do, indeed. This one is clung to so desperately by liberals that you’d think there was some sort of compelling empirical basis to believe this. There isn’t. There never has been. They’re making it up. They want it to be true, and so they believe it to be true.

…

2. The SATs only tell you how well a student takes the SAT. This is perhaps a corollary to 1., and is equally wrong. They tell us what they were designed to tell us: how well students are likely to perform in college. But the SATs tell us about much more than college success. Let me run this graphic again.

…

3. SATs just replicate the income distribution. No. Again, asserted with utter confidence by liberals despite overwhelming evidence that this is not true. I believe that this research represents the largest publicly-available sample of SAT scores and income information, with an n of almost 150,000, and the observed correlation between family income and SAT score is .25. This is not nothing. It is a meaningful predictor. But it means that the large majority of the variance in SAT scores is not explainable by income information. A correlation of .25 means that there are vast numbers of lower-income students outperforming higher-income students. Other analyses find similar correlations. If SAT critics wanted to say that “there is a relatively small but meaningful correlation between family income and SAT scores and we should talk about that,” fair game. But that’s not how they talk. The routinely make far stronger claims than that in an effort to dismiss these tests all together, such as here by Yale’s Paul Bloom. (Whose work I generally like.) It’s just not that hard to correlate two variables together, guys. I don’t know why you wouldn’t ever ask yourselves “is this thing I constantly assert as absolute fact actually true?” Well, maybe I do.

In general, progressive and left types routinely overstate the power of the relationship between family wealth and academic performance on all manner of educational outcomes. The political logic is obvious: if you generally want to redistribute money (as I do) then the claim that educational problems are really economic problems provides ammo for your position. But the fact that there is a generic socioeconomic effect does not mean that giving people money will improve their educational outcomes very much, particularly if richer people are actually mildly but consistently better at school than poorer for sorting reasons that are not the direct product of differences in income. That is, what correlation does exist between SES and academic indicators might simply be the metrics accurately measuring the constructs they were designed to measure.

And throwing money at our educational problems, while noble in intent, hasn’t worked. (People react violently to this, but for example poorer and Blacker public schools receive significantly higher per-pupil funding than richer and whiter schools, which should not be a surprise given that the policy apparatus has been shoveling money at the racial performance gap for 40 years.) All manner of major interventions in student socioeconomic status, including adoption into dramatically different home and family conditions, have failed to produce the benefits you’d expect if academic outcomes were a simple function of money. I believe in redistribution as a way to ameliorate the consequences of poor academic performance. There is no reason to think that redistribution will ameliorate poor academic performance itself.

5. SATs are easily gamed with expensive tutoring. They are not. This one is perhaps less empirically certain than the prior two and on which I’m most amenable to counterargument, but the preponderance of the evidence seems clear to me in saying that the benefits of tutoring/coaching for these tests are vastly overstated. Again, a simplistic proffered explanation for a troublesome set of facts that then implies simplistic solutions that would not work.

6. Going test optional increases racial diversity. This one, I think, must be called scientifically unsettled. However both Sweitzer, Blalock, and Sharma and Belasco, Rosinger, and Hearn find no appreciable increase in racial diversity after universities go test-optional. “Holistic” application criteria like admissions essays almost certainly benefit richer students anyway. What’s more, we have to ask ourselves what “diversity” really means in this context. Private colleges and universities keep the relevant data close to the vest, for obvious reasons, but it’s widely believed that many elite schools satisfy their internal diversity goals for Black students by aggressively pursuing wealthy Kenyan and Nigerian international students, whose parents have the means to be the kind of reliable donors that such schools rely on so heavily. I’m not aware of a really comprehensive study that examines this issue, and it would be hard to pull off, but the relevant question is “do various policies intended to improve diversity on campus actually increase the enrollment of American-born descendants of African slaves?” I can’t say, but you can guess where my suspicions lie.

…

All of that is prologue to the bigger point: the controversy over college entrance examinations stems not from the examinations themselves, but from the fact that they reveal profound differences in human capital that make progressives uncomfortable. The SATs don’t create inequality. They reveal inequality.

…

The racial achievement/performance gap is a curious thing even in the context of an American political discourse that seems to get more bizarre by the day. That the gap exists is, on balance, not controversial. Gaps in performance are observed on essentially every measured academic metric, though the size of the effects vary from context to context, and the general distribution is Asian American students at the top, white students next, then Hispanic, then Black. The Black-white gap in particular has shrunk from the era of (explicitly) segregated schools but progress has not been consistent or linear. Most people in academia and politics admit it exists: prominent Black politicians like Barack Obama and Kamala Harris reference it, every major think tank and foundation operating in the educational space identifies it as a major priority, and the NAACP used to address if often, though their Education and Education Strategy pages have recently disappeared so it’s hard to know where they stand now. These things are faddish but once upon a time every other dissertation written by someone getting a PhD in Education was about the gap. We can observe it even outside of reference to controversial tests, such as noting that the white high school graduation rate is 10% higher than that for Black students. The achievement gap is a thing.

And yet I also find a rapidly-congealing social prohibition against talking about these gaps in progressive spaces. If you refer to a racial achievement gap in a lot of liberal or left contexts now, you’ll find that people clam up fast and get visibly uncomfortable, even if you take pains to point out that an academic achievement gap does not imply an academic potential gap. People just don’t want to acknowledge that gaps exist at all; our racial discourse appears to have become such a blunt instrument that the acknowledgement of racial difference is controversial even when you preface discussion with the belief (that I hold) that the gap is the product of innumerable environmental and sociocultural factors rather than genetics or other inherent differences. Simply saying “Black students consistently score lower on tests like the SATs, have lower average GPAs, and have worse metrics on ancillary concerns like truancy” - again, Barack Obama’s position, Kamala Harris’s position, Cory Booker’s position - is enough for people to start launching into harangues about the inherent violence of those comparisons. People just do not want to talk about this stuff.

…

Those concerns with group differences, at least, have some sort of basic political logic and are amenable to complaints that they are the product of systemic inequality. (They are, but not the inequalities that people think, and again the SAT gap is a result of systemic inequality, not a cause of systemic inequality.) More disturbing to me is the rise of resistance within academia to the notion of inequalities between individuals. When I was in grad school more than a half-decade ago, I observed with some considerable unhappiness that it had become increasingly socially unacceptable to speak of some students as simply better students than others, as being more talented, harder working, or more prepared. All of this was seen as inegalitarian and, eventually, as “white supremacist” even if every student being compared in a given context was white. There were many instructors back then who bragged about giving all students As, etc., and I must assume this practice has only grown over time. In the humanities and social sciences especially there is a growing movement to reject assessment, including grading - the means through which we sort better students from worse - as the hand of illegitimate power that “does violence” to the students who voluntarily attend college.

…

Of course, that complicity in the neoliberal machine is not some recent injustice; it is the very reason that colleges and universities are funded by our society at all. If this trend continues, not just eliminating SAT requirements or increasingly refusing to hierarchize students with grades but in rejecting the entire sorting function of the university, academia will collapse. Wealthy parents aren’t paying Harvard to enrich their children in the humanistic sense. They’re paying Harvard to act as a marker of their child’s superiority in the labor market and the social hierarchy. Employers value college because it provides at least some meaningful information about who will succeed as a worker; remove that function and the financial justification for a hideously expensive system dies. I would love if education dropped its association with meritocracy, but that cannot occur within our current system. The professors who self-aggrandize through their rejection of their hierarchizing function, if successful, would cause the doom of the modern university. (These tenured radicals, of course, never are so moved by the inherent inequities of academia that they quit the profession.)

Today, it is somehow controversial to say “some people are smarter than others,” a reflection of one of the simple brute realities of human life and something that has been accepted as true for thousands of years.

Here is the essence of it: hierarchies of relative academic performance are remarkably stable throughout life, due to differences in inherent or intrinsic academic ability of whatever origin, and the SATs and similar mechanisms reveal those differences in a way that liberal America is increasingly unable to accept. This is the source of all of this angst, not the technical details of whether a test is fair or valid or just, but a liberal intelligentsia that is incapable of honestly confronting the fact that different human beings have fundamentally different intrinsic abilities. I believe in political equality, social equality, equality of rights, equality of dignity, equality of protection under the law. But the notion that all people are equally talented, in academics or anything else, is an absurdity, and as much as people will rush to deny intrinsic difference, I suspect that pretty much everybody knows that they are real. When you were a child you casually assumed that some of your classmates were naturally better at school than others, and you did because it was true.

This is the conversation that I tried, and failed, to force with my book: left-of-center political movements, from center-left to radically socialist, cannot achieve the goal of the greater good for everyone, including greater political and economic equality, while pretending that we believe in equality of human ability. The only way to intelligently address various social, economic, and political equalities related to differences in human potential is to acknowledge that those differences exist. The current rending of garments regarding inequalities within our education system has led to certifiably bizarre situations like the movement, currently gathering steam, to teach math as if it is as subjective as literature or art. But this won’t make Black kids or poor kids or girls or anyone else actually better at math. And if the universities really give up their function of creating an academic hierarchy for political reasons, employers will find new systems that do that, or a lot of people will get hired and quickly fired for not being competent. This is not an intelligent policy approach. Getting rid of the SATs won’t make unprepared kids prepared. It won’t make naturally untalented students naturally talented. It won’t make kids who aren’t smart into smart kids. All it will do is hide the reality of those unpleasant inequalities.

#freddie deboer #read the whole thing #substack

32 notes · View notes

rachetmath · 4 years

Note

What would it be like if rwbyjnor met the dutch, revy and rock

I don't understand the specifics of this request so I'll do this in the best way I can. This going to be long so be ready.

Rwby x Black lagoon

Black Lagoon crosses to Remnant:

Revy and Dutch along with team RWBY, Ren and Nora are fight a bunch of Beowolves while Jaune and Rock are fighting side by side with mostly Jaune doing most of the work while Rock provides a view tips and assisting mostly with what he can find.

Revy: So, let me get this straight you fight shit heads freaks of nature like these like every single day?

Ruby: Yep.

Dutch: And all of you have a very specific weapon that you customize yourselves to be it a blade and firearm?

Ren: Precisely.

Benny: And you have unnatural and natural resources like dust and with highly advanced technology?

Weiss: Yes.

Dutch: And you can use all that as well as this thing called aura along with a semblance?

Nora: Yeah, semblances are like a superpower.

Revy: How super?

Yang: Universal.

Revy: Well-

Revy looks to see Ruby turn her weapon from a sniper rifle to a scythe.

Revy: Dutch, can we stay here?

Dutch: HELL NO!!! Look, I hate to say this, but I much prefer seeing crazy psychos, and bullets fly than this horror fest. Plus, I may not be father but ya'll parents let you do this every day, they are very stupid and irresponsible.

Yang: Hey we're trained for this. Well except one.

Revy: Yeah that guy with Rock over there. He is doing fine but I can tell he's not all your levels. How did even survive let only get into your school?

Ruby: That we don't know or bother asking as long he works.

Revy: Well I can say that it's stupid but I still I wonder how he got in.

*Jaune and Rock side*

Rock: So, let’s get this straight. Your father never bothered to train you and no combat school was willing to accept you, so your best method was to cheat?

Jaune: Yeah, I know, I'm a complete fool.

Rock: I mean if you were willing to work hard to get there despite the risk, I say, you sir have my respect.

Jaune: But I am an idiot, I mean, I lost the only girl you who believed in me.

Rock: Jaune, let me give you a piece of advice. Get over yourself! If you still have even just one friend in this crazy messed up world then you're okay. Trust me, I know a little on how you feel. I mean look me compared to the others, do I look like I'm a mercenary?

Jaune: Why do hang out with them anyways?

Rock: Like you with your friends, mines, I guess appreciate my abilities. Look let's talk about this another time and try to survive this freak show.

Jaune: Deal.

RWBY and JNRO crosses to Black Lagoons:

Team RWBY and JNPR are fighting a mafia group along with Revy and Dutch. Ruby armed with a handgun, an old scythe and sniper with a bayonet, Weiss with a rapier and little knifes, Blake with a handgun and a katana, Yang with a shotgun and iron brazed knuckles, Jaune with an military armed shield, sword and rifle(Dutch taught him how to use it. Surprised it took him a week.) Nora with a grenade launcher, Ren dual wielding pistols and knives and Oscar with a pipe.

Revy: Holy crap, you brats are good even without your powers or usual weapons.

Ruby: We adapt.

Nora: Seriously, you guys do stuff like this every day?

Dutch: For the right price, yes. But yeah, you kids on a natural.

Yang: By the way, thanks for teaching Jaune how to use a gun.

Dutch: Thank Rock for making him listen, he said he wouldn't last long if he didn't. But in all seriously the guy learns quick, I mean, it took him a week to learn how you use that rifle.

Ren: A week! We need to start teaching him and make sure he brings one more often.

Nora: Might makes things easier from here on.

Jaune: Can all of stop talking and focus! We'll talk when we're done. Oscar, hurry up.

Oscar: Oh, I'm sorry but fighting with a pipe is hard!

Jaune: Why didn't you bring a sword!

Oscar: I will not kill!

After a crazy battle, the group along with Rock and Benny celebrated their victory at the bar. While the girls, as well as Ren and Oscar was living it up with Revy, Benny and Dutch, at the front bar Jaune and Rock were talking after Rock told him a stories about how his employers sold him out, the hell he endured in his stay Roanaper, Yukio, and his old client Garcia.

{Rock's side}

Jaune: Damn.

Rock: Yeah.

Jaune: Well, you did what you had to.

Rock: But I didn't have to. I should've walk away and not attached. I'm supposed to be the good guy, Jaune. But this city, I feel like it's eating me alive. All these mafia bosses, war criminals and shit... it's all just getting to me. You know.

Jaune: Yeah, I understand, but what are going to do about it? you made the choice to stay and you got live with it. I mean, hearing all the crap you've done, I somewhat envy you.

Rock: What do you mean?

Jaune: When Chang said pull out, you went in. Every time something bad happens you try to be the good guy and make things better. True it fails at times and from the look of this city, you'll have no choice but to throw righteousness away to survive. But in my opinion, you still at least stand as the hero of the story.

Rock: *laugh* How so!? Come on tell me, how can I, a piece of under burying shit can possible still be a hero to you. The worthless knight, who can barely fight and couldn't save his partner!?

Jaune: Exactly. Most people survive based on luck. You on the other hand survived not just on what you know but what learn in return. The world's a crazy place, and most of time you don't know where you'll end up. However, you still have control of what you do next. Your still able to keep people alive. You still do your job. You still try to be nice and maintain some level of morality even if it may never be enough or get you killed. So, trust me when I say this, you have done all what you could. Hell, I barely can do anything.

Rock: Shut up. When it comes down to it your friends are as crazy and trigger happy as Revy. They need somebody like you who can keep them alive. Just keep trying to do right by them and for yourself. Trust me, you can talk down to yourself all you want. But it doesn't change the fact that your alive, you made mistakes and you change. Promise you won't go down how I did, because believe me once you go too far in the darkness you may never come back from it. Or at least not be the same person you were before.

Jaune: Yeah. Plus, that Revy woman, I think you can trust her to help you back up or shoot you down when you have gone too far.

Rock: Really? How come?

Jaune: She talks about you all the time when she's drunk. She saves you even when you deserve to die for being stupid. And finally, she hasn't killed you yet despite the many times you've pissed her off.

Rock: Speaking of women, which one of those lovely ladies is your girlfriend?

Jaune: Funny I was about ask you the same between Revy and the blonde, named, Eda.

Rock: *laughing* To the C.M.F.?

Jaune: To the C.M.F *Shared a toast with Rock and started drinking*

{Revy Side}

Ruby: So, Revy?

Revy: What is it little red?

Ruby: Are you and Rock dating?

Revy: *cracks glass cup while blushing* W-w-WHAT!? NO!! Of course not. Why the hell would you ask that?

Nora: You look at him a lot.

Blake: You talk to him the most.

Yang: An unlike most, you call him your partner.

Revy: Well yeah cause he's useful. That’s all. Nothing special.

Weiss: Really, cause when you got drunk last time, we asked you about him, you got an attitude and started talking crazy.

Revy: Oh.

Yang: So how-

Revy: We started off at the wrong foot and we're just making up as we go.

Yang: Well that's great and-

Revy: Can't say the same thing for you guys and your friend Jaune, though.

Nora: Pardon?

Revy: I'm just saying, don't think you know everything about your friend, hell I don't think he cares about any of you.

Blake: *angry glare* What makes you say that?

Revy: Well let’s be clear here. Jaune was loser with dreams, he was willing to make those dreams a reality, no matter the price he didn't know he'll have to pay. And guess what, the debt was do and it caused Pyrrha her life.

Yang: Maybe so but-

Revy: And before you all start giving him praise for what he accomplished, let me ask you something. How did he feel afterwards? I mean, losing the only person to ever provide with some sort of love and respect, a family that never believed in once in his life, I say the kid must been a loser for a long time. And if him and his Sapphron were the only two to ever bother to leave the nest, then that proves that the rest of his siblings are just good for nothing nobodies who scared of the world, or just found more meaning in their lives without having to leave the comfort of their home. Face it, like Rock, your friend got something to prove and he's willing to do whatever it takes to prove himself to everyone. Even if it causes him his life and his humanity.

Ruby: No. No, we won't-

Revy: And what are you people going to do? Hold his hand? Give him those morally great speeches of yours? Pathetic. Just like your friend Pyrrha who died a meaningless death for worthless, foolish old man, who could barely do the job he's was given by god himself.

RWBYN: *angry at Revy comment but grows to accept it*

Ren was about to start threatening however Dutch stops him by reestablishing that one shot can turn the bar into a war zone and showing Ren that Revy always has her trigger finger ready. So, Ren does nothing.

Revy: Face it, you guys aren't capable of saving him. But what do I know, I'm no hero nor do I want to be? The only guy I seem to care about is changing and I don't know how he's going to turn out. To think that I might have to shoot him down someday. But fuck it, that’s just of missed up every world is.

Dutch: Wow Revy you changed.

Revy: What?

Benny: You act less bitchy than you were before and now you’re a little more open with others. Rock must have touched your heart.

Revy: Shut up, Benny. *looking red all over her face*

Everyone laughs at her embarrassment.

Revy: Oh, shut the fuck up you cunts! Hm. Anyways which one you are dating that knight in shining armor anyways since you're all worried about him?

Nora: I already got a boyfriend.

Revy: You mean twinkle toes right there. Mr. Emmo.

Nora: You must want to fight.

Revy: Anyone?

RWBY: Nope.

Revy: *makes a call*

Eda: Hey bitch, what do want?

Revy: Hey Eda do you like blondes? Because I got an average looking-

Eda barges in with her short green skirt and pink top shirt on. She looks at Revy, knowing what she wants, Revy points to Jaune with Rock and Eda makes her. She walks with hips swaying from side to side and sit between Rock and Jaune.

Rock: *surprised* Eda, what are doing here? When you did you get here?

Eda: Oh, Rock honey, I’m just taking advantage of my opportunities. *Sees Jaune staring in amazement. She smiles* Say, I heard rumors about you and your blonde friend right here and was wondering if you two would have some-

Revy and Weiss both break their glasses and make their way over.

Revy and Weiss: STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM YOU CUNT!!!

Revy surprised how Weiss and she were in complete sink and while she smug, Weiss was embarrassed.

Revy: Oh, so you like him like that.

Weiss: *grabs Jaune by the arm and pulls him away* EVERYONE! WE ARE LEAVING!

Jaune: But Weiss I finally found someone I can talk!

Weiss: YOU’LL PLENTY OF PEOPLE TO TALK TO ONCE WE GET HOME!!

Jaune: But Weiss- damn it, later Rock. See you someday.

Rock: God speed brother and remember everything I told you.

Jaune: You as well and good luck.

A bright light was opened and just like that the kids disappeared. Back to their universe. Revy and Rock were smiling but Rock, remembering what Jaune said about trust, ask Revy

Rock: Revy?

Revy: What up, partner?

Rock: Let’s say, I things took too far and made an enemy of someone who would want me killed. Will you be there to kill me instead? Even if you were paid to do so, will be there to stop me?

Revy: *smiles but then covers Rocks eyes so he never sees it* Of course. I got you into this, so you’re my responsibility. Partner.

Rock: *smiles* Thanks.

#rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #Blake Belladonna #yang xiao long #jnro #Jaune Arc #lie ren #nora valkyrie #Oscar Pine #jaune x weiss #rwby whiteknight #black lagoon #revy #dutch #benny #rock #revy x rock

81 notes · View notes

cle1024 · 4 years

Text

beyond the silver horizon | lfl

member: lee felix

genre: angst

summary: everything you told me, the words you whispered into that stinging winter atmosphere, was spoken far too late. mafia!au

warnings: violence, death

a/n: an anon requested mafia angst with felix, i hope this lives up to expectations <3 i got inspiration for this story after listening to seventeen from the heathers and watching a quiet place, i didn’t think a horror movie could make me that sad but i’m also a notorious crier! also i’m very sorry i disappear for such long periods of time i’m in my final year of school and suck at time management anyway love you

The sky pooled with the blue of faded jeans and snowcloud grey, the abysmal winter taking the common popularity far from the sandy miles and crashing tides. It was at its peak in winter, despite being a beach. It flawlessly transformed from a bustling getaway to a tranquil sanctuary, one you had come to share with another. Felix’s silver hair often matched that of the beyond skyline, the sun’s muted rays being overpowered by cool-toned clouds. Words often went unexchanged in such moments, as the two of you preferred to bask in all the peace and serenity. In those moments, you would feel free—no longer looking over your shoulder with caution, watching your friends walk out of doors they may never walk through again. Instead, it was just waves. Crashing water flowing back and forth, back and forth. They never went away. Felix had never spoken many words while you found yourselves sat on the cold sand together, though the few he aired always stuck in your mind. They were words you’d unknowingly yearned to hear, words that allowed you to escape to a fantasy each night as your eyes closed until the morning.

“Someday, we’ll go far beyond that silver horizon,” he had promised you, “we’ll leave it all behind for a new beginning.”

“You really think so?”

He smiled at you reassuringly as he nodded gently, “I know we will.”

The day Felix met you wasn’t unusual, nor was it anything special at the time. He couldn’t remember how he found himself caught up in the world of drug lords and shady business, but he remembered exactly when he laid eyes on you — four in the afternoon he witnessed Minho leading you to Chan’s office, neither of you with pleasant facial expressions. Minho looked bored, you looked irritated, he didn’t want to know how Chan looked. As much as he expected to watch you disappear into the confines of his boss’ office and never reappear, at five o’clock he observed you leaving the office with Chan, the man smiling with satisfaction, victorious. Felix could remember watching you navigate your way around the base for a few days before Changbin grew tired of the male’s intense observation, said he looked like he was “trying to turn the damn kid into ice!”

From what he understood, though never confirmed, you were down on your luck, broke, and made the mistake of robbing Minho—successfully, much to the dismay of the male’s ego. It didn’t take the bright haired male long to track you down and drag you back to base, not with the expectation of grievous punishment, but with the intention of acquiring you a job. Minho was frequently forgiving, unlike most, and considered you lucky to have chosen him instead of someone else—someone much more ruthless, bloodthirsty. Chan wasn’t hesitant in persuading you to join, Minho was one of the most perceptive people he’d ever met; he was observant, strong-minded, soft-spoken and thought in ways he had never once considered. And he was usually right, but Chan didn’t want to inflate his ego too much.

Three months into the job, as unconventional as it was, you spoke your first words to Felix. They were words he’d heard in countless variations prior, yet something about your voice resonated deep within him, almost as if a ray of moonlight had struck his soul and encased it.

“Chan said we have business together, can I trust you?”

“Always.”

Felix didn’t question you back, despite tradition. Somehow, he knew you’d give the same answer. It was laced in the gentle smile you futilely suppressed.

Trickling down the glass windows, beads of perspiration and rain water scattered across the window pane. Your eyes watched the droplets slide from their original position on the glass to the bottom, replaced by another splash of crystal liquid. Felix glanced at you momentarily; it was bizarre how things had changed so swiftly. Three months since the first time you spoke — the same amount of time it took the two of you to verbally communicate for the first time — yet it felt as if you were engaged in a three year long friendship. The two of you had found freedom, paradise, in the sandy shores of an unpatrolled beach, no matter how abysmal in appearance. The two of you were yet to experience a beach in nice weather, together at least, instead sticking to the depressing atmosphere of chilled winter days, the scenery a colour scheme suitable to Felix’s ash blonde, white, or silver strands of hair. It was coincidental to begin with, then it became an innocent rendezvous requested in moments of loneliness and exhaustion. The freckled male wished he could take credit for the organisation of such ‘bonding’, so to speak, but it was your proposal, spoken as poetically as ever — “perhaps we should make this our own utopia, hey? Watch the oscillation of murky water plunge into abysmal depths.” Felix wasn’t sure how to respond the first time around, the eloquence of your words stunning him momentarily. All his brain could think was: “yeah, whatever that means.” He had simply nodded instead. Though, truthfully, he didn’t really care what it meant. If it granted him time with you, he would be willing to make it a tradition.

That beach became your utopia, a hideaway from the consequences of the lifestyle the two of you found yourselves entangled in. Whether you sat under the shelter of Felix’s clunky black buick or amongst the scattered sand grains, the soothing sound of crashing waves washing the shoreline put the two of you at ease. It was escapism at its finest. Even when the topic of your line of work—if it could even be considered a form of employment—was brought up, it felt as if it were a hypothetical scenario. “If you were a part of the mafia, would you want to escape?” rather than “do you think we could ever escape being in the mafia?” You always answered no while Felix maintained hope, but you both seldomly pondered how you could escape a lifestyle that was so omnipresent.

The pair of you found yourselves sat within the same clean car three weeks later, travelling down a long stretch of smoothly paved highway with obscured chatter being emitted from the silver radio. It wasn’t for a blissful escape this time. Rather, a job—or mission, you still didn’t know how to appropriately refer to the actions you were sent out to perform. Felix knew more of the situation than you knew, mainly because you zoned out halfway through Changbin’s explanation of the whole situation. Then again, you didn’t really care to know the extensive reasoning Changbin had for why certain things had to be done, as long as you got the job done and weren’t fucking murdered for not doing so, you didn’t really care. You’d spent the majority of the four hour car ride staring out the window, watching cars wizz past at illegal speeds, even for a highway, and trees blur into green masses of indistinct leaves and skinny branches. It only became evident that you had reached some form of civilisation when the pine trees evolved into small convenience stores and quaint homes, then towering skyscrapers and elegant apartments. The buzz of the radio, a sound you’d become accustomed to over the hours, was intercepted by Felix’s deep voice, “we’ll have to leave for the museum at six tomorrow evening. I’ll explain the situation on the way, I know you weren’t listening,” he teased cheekily.

You smiled mildly with a roll of your eyes, “you’re the boss—oh, wait.”

Felix scoffed and smacked your shoulder lightly, “get out of my car before I throw you out and leave.”

“Shut it, Lix’. You love me.”

A shit-eating grin was spread across your face as you took your gym bag from the boot, turning on your foot to enter the luxurious hotel. Felix smiled fondly at you—shit. Perhaps he did.

The hotel room was what Changbin would describe as ‘comfortable’, but that chandelier-swinging prick was born into a lengthy ancestry of money—and criminal activity, though you supposed that was irrelevant. It wasn’t really, but it was a four-hour presentation you didn’t want to mentally sit through. Instead, you took in the opulent hotel room with awe and appreciation. White marble tiles spread along the floor, a light gold chandelier adorned with rhinestones dangled over the large dining table. The room was overboard in every possible way, though Chan had brushed it off as “getting into character”. You supposed that it would be more covert to retreat into a hotel equally lavish to the gala the two of you planned to intrude on. That part had almost slipped your mind—the whole criminal part of it. He’d subconsciously experienced the trip as a getaway. It wasn’t a work expense, it was a sumptuous getaway to escape that lifestyle, ignoring the stress of money, drugs, and being tailed by the police. It was freedom—except it wasn’t. It was nothing more than business; everything was just business. Felix, on the other hand, was painfully aware of the situation, in a way that you didn’t know or understand—not yet, at least. The male didn’t hold contempt towards the situation for being ‘just business’, he held contempt for what it should have been. It wasn’t the kind of goodbye he’d wanted to give you, sitting in an over-the-top hotel room preparing for a mission before leaving, for good. He had it all planned out, people who would help him—even Chan knew about the whole plot, for goodness sake, he’d sworn to cover it up as an untimely death. Though, as it drew closer, Felix couldn’t help reject the original plan. It was a solid plan, but it didn’t include you. How could he ever leave without you?

Felix, foolish as it was, didn’t sleep that night. Tossing and turning around in the silky blue sheets, feeling them twist around his bare torso, felt much more comforting than sleeping—despite the fact he would escape from the thoughts he felt tormented by. At one point he’d left the room entirely, standing on the balcony as the cold air pricked at his exposed skin. It was winter, how fitting. He’d watched you lay peacefully in the sheets for a few moments, the steady rising of your chest putting him at ease momentarily, until those thoughts came creeping in again. In all honesty, he hadn’t even planned on telling you—or anyone. He would just slip away into the night, run as if his life depended on it—it did, he supposed. With a sigh, the male slipped back into the warmth of the hotel room, sliding the glass door closed to forbid the frosty air from plaguing the room and ruining your peaceful slumber. Fuck, he really couldn’t leave you behind. The frosty bathroom tiled stung the soles of his feet as he splashed water on his face, patting the freckled skin dry with the lightest touch possible, as if he would break if too much force was used. Felix had never felt so close to the edge — the edge of what, he wasn’t certain yet, but something told him he’d understand soon enough.

The sun was steadily disappearing behind the uneven horizon, and you were taking advantage of the last pungent rays of sunlight to prepare for the gala night—you supposed it was better to be early hours before you had to leave instead of minutes. Plus, Felix had encouraged you to do so and he had far more experience than you. He also had ulterior motives in the form of telling you heavy news and a proposal he prayed you wouldn’t reject. Truthfully, he hadn’t even considered how to approach the topic. Did he just spit it out: “I’m leaving”, or was that too harsh? Why did it even matter? It’s not like he would be around to watch the fall out—that didn’t make it any better, though.

“What time do we leave?” Felix’s thoughts were intruded by your querying voice. His head turned in your direction and, fuck, you looked beautiful.

“Uh- seven. Weren’t you listening to Chan?” The slight teasing edge of his voice prompted a playful smile to stretch across your face as you raised an eyebrow.

“When have I ever listened to Chan?” A deep chuckle vibrated in Felix’s chest as he shook his head gently. Of course you hadn’t, you remained as independent as ever, “besides,” you sigh gently as you move to sit next to him on the unmade bed, “the stuff he says just reminds me of the shitty situation I’m in.”

“What do you mean?” The freckled male raised an eyebrow in question. You laughed bitterly.

“The fact I’m a dimestore criminal and always will be. The only time it will end is when I’m thrown in prison—and I’d still be bloody miserable,” your words hung heavy in the air as Felix chewed on his plush lower lip. Fuck it.

“We could leave, together. You know. Start a new life, be happy.”

A sigh passed your lips, a mix of exasperation and misery, “Felix, you know this isn’t the kind of life you can just run away from.”

“It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? Don’t you want to be free?”

“Living in fear isn’t living freely!” with slumped shoulders, a posture of defeat, the exasperation dissipated from your face, “you should know that by now.”

Mustering up the necessary courage, Felix allowed his deep voice to break through the tense atmosphere, “well—I’m leaving.”

You visibly froze, shoulders rigid and jaw tense as the news simmered in the air. The silence was thick, Felix could feel it melting through his skin and coating his bones, “I’m leaving tomorrow night,” it was the affirmation you didn’t want to hear. The news that, no, this wasn’t some sick joke, this was real fucking life and Felix was leaving you, “I know some people that can help me out, but—” he sighed with hesitance, “I’ll stay if I’m what you choose.”

Felix failed to realise it at the time, but from this distance, painfully aware of the emptiness of the grey grains of sand, Felix knew that the sandy shores were never his idea of paradise. It was the person who sat beside him, enduring the cold weather in a comfortable silence.

It was easier to put on a happy face than either of you had expected. Though, thinking about it, you weren’t sure why you had such little faith in your acting skills—you’d managed to hide your criminal occupation under a law-abiding facade, after all. Felix had briefly run through the plan, meaning he had told you to keep a low profile and follow his lead. You had assumed it was an ordinary job—steal their stash, take out anyone who got in your way, get the fuck out of there. Suffice it to say, you found yourself in awe at the beauty surrounding you. The museum was painted in tones of gold and white, with lush velvet lounges and curtains showcasing the large pristine glass windows. All exhibits were on display, allowing the museum to brag its gorgeous vintage paintings and unique bone collections — you were pretty sure you’d heard Minho brag the same thing, and you were absolutely certain you didn’t let him explain it any further than that. Feeling Felix’s hand brush gently against your arm, you turned your attention to the silver-haired male, suppressing the attraction blooming in your eyes. He looked marvelous. Hair swept back effortlessly with a crisp suit adorning his slim frame. To say he didn’t look intimidating would be a blatant lie, and to act as if you weren’t already immensely attracted to him would be pointless. With an internal reprimand, you raised an eyebrow at Felix, inviting him to proceed with his words.

“Just mingle for a little bit. Go through that door,” he discretely gestured his head towards a set of large dark oak doors, “about ten minutes after I do. Wait in the hall, and if anyone asks, you needed a break from socialising.”

Nodding with understanding, you watched as Felix sent a reassuring smile your way before sauntering across the large room, smiling and greeting other primly dressed men he probably didn’t know. An unpleasant thought plagued your mind, one you desperately wanted to push away from contemplation: as soon as this mission was over and you returned to the base you called home, you would have to watch as he walked away once again, a stride towards freedom. It was something he so desperately craved, you couldn’t bring yourself to take that away from him—no matter how much you wanted to. The sound of the ebony wooden grandfather clock was lost in the sound of absent-minded chatter and fake laughter, yet the hands still moved as each second, minute, passed by. Five minutes had passed. What was Felix doing? Six minutes had passed. Why did you have to wait so long? Seven minutes had passed. Was he in danger? Eight minutes had passed. Would you see him again? Nine minutes had passed. Why didn’t you agree to leave with him? Ten minutes had passed. You were tired of this life. The thought struck you as you clandestinely stride towards the large doors Felix had disappeared behind, pacing a few strides down the hall before leaning against the wall, waiting.

How much time had passed? You weren’t certain, it felt as if time had stopped moving since you leaned against the wallpaper-covered surface. Footsteps alerted you to another’s presence, your head turning in the direction to scope out a potential threat — though your shoulders relaxed as the familiar chocolate eyes of Felix met your own. Fixing your posture, you waited until he was standing beside you, “we happy?”

Felix smiled gently at your Pulp Fiction reference, “yeah, we’re happy. Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Placing his hand on the small of your back, he prepared to escort you from the grand location, all the while you pondered why Felix needed a partner when he did everything alone. Though, your questions were answered.

“Not so fast, pal,” you had often feared being murdered by Changbin for not completing a mission, yet for some reason you didn’t fear the potential of being shot in the head by a rival gang.

“Ah, Mr. Hyunsuk, what a pleasure it is,” the freckled male’s response was short yet polite, a false smile stretched upon his face. How did he still look so angelic in the face of death?

“Yongbok,” Felix’s smile faltered, “let’s not pretend. Just return whatever you’ve taken from us and everyone will leave here safely.”

“With all due respect, I believe you’re wrong,” you spoke up — that was your job — “we’ll be keeping our new possessions and leave safely,” to jump in recklessly when things began going sideways. Then, guns were drawn. You can’t recall who drew first, who shot first, but you knew you and Felix had split up to take different vantage points. Peeking from behind the cabinet you crouched behind, you fired a shot towards the muscular bald man shooting in Felix’s direction, who narrowly avoided a bullet between his eyes. How many people had come? You weren’t sure, you weren’t counting. It was pure adrenaline, shooting almost blindly at those who threatened the success of your job. The sound of a gun jamming snapped you out of your daze, forcing you to watch as Felix struggled to identify the problem with his gun. Ah shit, you supposed it was time to do your job. Leaping from behind the bullet-riddled cabinet, you fired towards the moving human targets in rapid succession. One down, two down, a bullet fired into Hyunsuk’s knee, another into his hip. Another gun joined you, Felix’s pistol shooting at the men attempting to pull their boss from the fray.

The pain shot through you before you could process what was happening. It was searing, a deep burning sensation that had you clutching the spot in agony, struggling to stay on your feet. Vaguely, as if rooms away, you heard Felix’s gunfire halt as a thud echoed from the other side of the hall, then you heard footsteps against the polished floor. Rapid, either rushing to help someone or rushing to take their last breath. A pair of arms snaked around your waist and supported your back as you swayed, disoriented.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Felix’s gentle hold on you prevented further stumbling on your behalf. The words couldn’t form upon your lips, your eyes glancing around haphazardly, as if blinking more would help you process the situation you were in. His eyes trailed downwards, widening as he finally noticed the hand haphazardly clutching your abdomen.

“No. No, no, no, no, no,” his speech was rapid, his gravelly voice coming out in a corybantic manner as he struggled to find the right action to take. There was a short period where he struggled, laying you down as he attempted to assess the bloody patch hiding beneath your stained hand. Weakened, you found yourself unable to fight off Felix’s movements as he peeled your hand away delicately, breath quickening at the extent of your wound. If he didn’t get you help in the next minute, he knew you wouldn’t make it, “ah, okay—shit. Just—keep your hand on there, pressure, yeah?”

There was no effort to move on your behalf, thus Felix’s hand found its way pressing atop your bleeding injury. Though, your fingers wrapped around his wrist as you smiled gently towards him, “don’t.”

Confusion laced his eyes, “don’t? Y/N, I’m not going to let you bleed out here. I’m not going to let you die!”

You only nodded slightly, “you are. You have to.”

His eyesight grew blurry, his stomach twisted in knots, the croaks of sobs were climbing up his throat as he mulled over your words. His voice quivered, “b-but, I can’t let you die. I need you.”

There were no words to respond to his statement, just a weak and gentle hand caressing his cheek. He could hear footsteps approaching, but he couldn’t find it in him to look away from you—he didn’t care if it was a fatal mistake or not. A deep breath filled your lungs, a stray tear leaking from your eye and sliding down your temple as you mustered up the strength to breathe out the confession you’d been suppressing for years.

It was gentle, angelic in the other’s ears, the words the both of you wished you’d said earlier, “you’re the one I choose.”

Not every story has a happy ending, but at least they have an ending. Even if it tore the soul from someone and stomped on it, that sense of finality was necessary. Felix had seen a lot of pain in his life, far too much loss, yet the final chapter of a story involving him—your story—had never felt so… wrong. Out of place, missing. It wasn’t the ending he wanted for you, though who was he to change fate? There was nothing Felix could do to go back to that time, to redo anything and everything to fix the ending. All he could do was think of how much he loved and lost in a matter of moments.

Sighing as he watched the waves carry your ashes past the skyline, Felix’s voice broke into the crisp air, “one day, I’ll meet you beyond that silver horizon,” he sniffled slightly as the autumn breeze caressed his face, “I know I will.”

34 notes · View notes

spottedlekkudancer · 4 years

Text

Lady of the Stars Part One - Contact

@paytonita @tranquility-or-chaos @inumorph

THIS IS A SW/Witcher CROSSOVER.

Geralt x Jedi!Reader

2.8K words

Originally planed on having 2 or 3 parts to this story but apparently I have diarrhea of the mouth and moved the plot too slow. So get ready to be strapped in for at least 4 if not 5 self indulgent parts. And feel free to send me all the questions you like.

Warnings: Adult language, mentions of death, violence, and other adult themes.

By whim or by destiny light catches your attention though fluttering lashes. It kisses your cheek with warmth and the subtleness of a gentle dawn. After a moment the fog of sleep sheds from your brain. You adjust. The orange glow crackles at your nose and you realize that you are in more peril than the lingering caress of your dreams led you to believe. The pilot’s dash in front of you is consumed with flame.

“Crinking Hell! Dol'bfai!” You smack the Weequay to your right in an attempt to get his attention, but your hand meets nothing but the padding of your co-pilot’s chair. Heart dropping to your gut you look about the cockpit of your HWK-290. The leathery skinned man was in a broken bloody heap on the floor behind you. You might have felt bad if he wasn’t such E-chu-ta each and every day. If fact you couldn’t help but scold him mentally for not wearing his seat straps. “So much for ‘the experienced never falter’ line, Chuggnut.” You grunted, ejecting yourself from your own buckles to take care of the more pressing matter.

You leaned over the Weequay smuggler’s body to get to the extinguishing hose and with a little effort you salvaged what was left of your controls. Outside your ship was another wreck all together. Fires were smoldering at every corner of your limited view from inside. You had half a mind to run out immediately, but thought better of it. If your ship was going to blow up it would have done so already you told yourself in a comforting manner. Sending your droids for damage control was the safer option on foreign planets. However, you couldn’t stay put forever. The damages weren’t going to evaluate themselves, moreover, the body of your partner needed to be dragged out before he started to stink. By the looks of things the atmosphere had to be breathable. Most planets with such green life gave off suitable levels of oxygen for humans. Whatever the case, you would have to risk it; your employer refused to provided vacuum suits or travel tanks. Too costly.

You were use to the miserly ways of the former pirate leader Hondo Ohnaka. You had been working with his smuggling cover company for half a decade now: ever since you ran from the Jedi training academy, or rather, Ben Solo. You didn’t know Solo to be a liar, in fact he had treated you like a little sister for all the years you had grown together, but when he told you and the others how Luke had turned on him you were too confused to chose between the two of them. Luke was your master, and Ben your friend. The force whispered something to you then. A soft encouragement to leave everything. You chose to listen; to not pick sides at all, and made a new life for yourself under an identity the Weequay stole for you.

Once free of your hot metal cage it was clear that things were not as horrible as you imagined. You were safe from any fuel combustion’s or reactor leaks. The two DUM-series pit droids were clumsily scurrying about trying to put out the fire that was inching ever closer to your turret. It was also evident from the back that only one of Pathfinder’s two hyper-drive systems had taken on some heavy laser canon damage. Looked like the shielding component was scored too, but that wasn’t a necessity for getting back in the air.

“The kriff happen?” you weren’t fully talking to anyone, not even yourself. You had a vague memory of being cornered by Absolution, a First Order R-SD, and their TIE fighters on your way to a high bye delivery. But how, moreover where, you crash landed was still a mystery. You tapped the remote on your wrist. A projection fizzed in and out of view with vertical blue static. You must have knocked it out of order in the crash. Now you had no way of knowing what planet you were on or what it’s population consisted of.

“O-T!” The droid with the painted yellow stripe above his singular oculus ambled in your direction. “Once you get this mess under controls see if our Nav is still in tact. The job is a sham but we might be able to at least back track to base. I’ll go scout out the area for any nearby scarp yards. We aren’t getting off this durkload of a planet in this condition, that’s for damn sure.” O-T nodded and whistled a question in response. “Don’t know. Com link is out and I’m not able to check for life forms. If anything happens just lock yourselves in the ship 'til I get back.” You didn’t wait for the little droid to argue with you more as he usually would. It wasn’t likely you would be getting an extraction from Ohnaka Transport Solutions this close to First Order territory anyway. You were on your own.

You traveled 500 paces from your ship in each cardinal direction before you came to something of interest. Flowing SE to S was a small river bed. With noting more than a seemingly endless forest as your surrounding it was your best bet to finding civilization. For another hour you saunter down the unbeaten path until you felt night approaching. There was already little light beneath the canopy and you didn’t have the eyes of a cat, so with your wits and strength still about you you turned back. The rusted roof of your Corellian light freighter would have to suffice for the night.

The cacophonous sounds of shrieking and the boisterous gargling of goose like honks was your first indication that something was awry near your ship. The closer you got the more defining the racket became. Whatever the creature was, and you were sure it was some kind of animal, had to have a massive pair of lungs on it.

With much disappointment you found your analysis to be correct. Thought the brush you could see some kind giant blue feathered lizard-bird striking at your dead co-pilot’s flesh. You cursed yourself for not burring the poor man right away, and true to your command your pit droids had barricaded them selves inside your transport.

“Mother of …” You sighed to yourself. Your Jedi teachings told you to let the beast be, however, just hiding behind a tree all night while it desecrated the Weequay’s body didn’t feel right to you. Regardless you held yourself back from attacking the thing. It was just trying to survive after all, and if you didn’t have to get into a fight you didn’t want to. You were already stranded. Adding injury to that would not be wise.

When morning came the feathered brute had not yet left; roosting atop your ship like it had always belonged there.

Well if the giant critter wanted it, he could have it. In your groggy state you had little patience and didn’t want to be bothered with defending what you didn’t currently posses. You had everything you needed: canteen, provisions in your belt pouch, republic credits, and of course your trusty light-saber. Once you got what you wanted from the scrap shop you would deal with the overgrown pidgin.

“You’re alive.”

The voice of your pursuer was clear. This wasn’t part of your imagination. The force had bonded you and Solo again. “Careful Ren, you almost sound relived.”

Kylo scoffed. “Surprised is more likely."

You stood and turned around. Were there was once endless forest now stood the masked Dark Jedi you both dreaded and longed to see. "How is it you keep your standards for me so low when I’ve evaded your every move."

"I wouldn’t call narrowly escaping with your life an 'evasion’.” Gloved hands ringed rightly around themselves. Anger or worry built like a tumultuous storm inside of him: you couldn’t tell which. “How did you manage that Jump?”

“Jump?” The query slipped though your lips too quickly.

“Don’t remember? Maybe your not as well of as you look” Kylo straightened with pride. You were sure he was gloating to himself on his small victory. “My Knights had you cornered at the edge of a nebula. With no larger ship close enough to tractor you in I gave the order to immobilize you.”

“Why not just kill me?"

It was an abrupt interruption that went unanswered. Kylo waited for you to calm yourself before continuing. Even now as a villainous "dark lord” he was patient with you. “We took out your Hyperdrive, Y/N. That jump should have been impossible.”

It was coming back to you now. You had prosperously led the TIEs to the cloud of gas and dust. You planed to enter into it blind and use the force as your guide. You figured the lot you were running from wouldn’t dare try to fallow. Instead your ship started to shake and spark as it tried desperately to hold against the onslaught. You panicked. You didn’t even complete the calculations before you pushed your freighter to enter hyperspace. You could have died. You could have been thrust into a star or another mass and exploded into dust.

Your stomach tightened. Dol'bfai was dead because of your rash behavior. He was in the middle of un-tethering a knot in his seat straps when you made that decision. You pulled out of it almost immediately, giving your best attempt at the “skipping” the other smuggler pilots did so often, but it was too late. You were entering the atmosphere of another moon or planet. There was not time to pull up, and you crashed.

If Kylo saw the tear you shed just then he didn’t bother to comment on it. “If you were with those goons of yours you could have planned better for that. You know as well as your father that every standard HAWK series come with two hyperdrives."

You could have sworn you heard Kylo curse from beneath his helmet. His breathing was expeditious and heavy now; you cold feel his fury swarming in the force around you.

"Cookie points to you if you are able to find me this time Ren. Even I don’t know where I am.” You teased rather lightheartedly.

This only pushed his buttons more. He gestured to you pointedly. “Oh don’t worry about that. I’ll bring you in myself if I have to.”

And with that your force connection faded. The experience left you feeling diminished and torn. Your past kept endangering the people around you. With a heaving breath and shaking knees you looked ahead to the southern half of the forest. You could dwell on these events all day if you’d like, but it would just be a waist of time. You needed to set your pity party aside and focus on getting off this planet before he really did find you.

~~~ Two days had passed and you thanked the force that not one of them brought you any sign of the First Order. Your only gripe was that the town you had found proved your worst nightmares had come true. This planet was primitive. The citizens here weren’t even literate, moreover, building any sort of machinery. You were shit out of luck, money, and a plan.

Was this punishment? You thought it might be far more often than you would like to admit. The force had never led you so astray before. What kind of design could it have for you now?

Your credits weren’t worth anything here but one tavern keeper in this shit stained town you did take a fancy to your Heart of Beskar necklace. You debated for a long while if you should give it to him in exchange for a few hot meals and a bed. It was the only thing you had to remember your birth family of after all. But after a particularly stormy night you didn’t have choice any longer. Not unless you wanted to freeze to death. It was hard to let go, but not as hard as it was each day that passed knowing your parents let you be raised by a stranger.

Sure becoming a Jedi was a noble cause to enlist your child into, but unlike so many of your piers you did not ever go back home to your parents. Ben and the others always got to see their loved ones for a few weeks every so often, and yet you were kept locked away on the training camp with Luke year round. When asked Luke assured you that your parents were still alive; he even gave you their names and home planet. Even now after having found their old home and poppers grave you didn’t understand.

So to the inn keep you gifted your father’s old armor piece, and two nights stay was what he offered you in return. Not a fair trade by any means, however, how exactly were you supposed to explain the galactic value of Beskar to these simple people?

A man dressed in bright colors played a 15 stringed instrument in the corner of the tavern. He was merry and boisterous; entertaining at the vary least. You pitied that the crowd this morning was not taking well to him. Half of them were hung over, the other half looked mean and dirty enough to scare a Dewback.

The Musician caught you staring at him. A smile brighter than the three suns of Helioss graced his features. You cringed internally and returned his gesture with a timid one of your own. Silently you prayed he wouldn’t goat you into some volunteer sing-song delights so publicly.

The Man’s strut was so vaunt it had every patron staring at him as he made his way though the tables to presumably talk to you. You shrunk a little in your seat, not wanting this kind of attention. You had already drawn enough as it was with how oddly you were dressed; you didn’t need any more. He plopped down opposite you at the table.

“So! How come the only person in this shit stick interested in my song is a pretty young woman like you?” He gave you almost no room to think of an answer before continuing his self serenade. “If it’s my corky charm or boyish good looks please don’t keep me waiting in sufferance to hear those sweet words leave your lips.” The line could have been considered smooth to some, however, the awkward and eager demeanor he carried was a little too much. You could see how it was putting off the rest of the room.

The only response you had to offer was a perplexed smile.

He rested his chin in the palm of his upturned hand. “Come on!” He whined enthusiastically. “Care to comment on the quality of my performance? I do love getting reviews from the public.”

You sighed though your nose and fiddled with the food in front of your. “Yes, well… I suppose we all yearn for validation. Don’t we?”

It was the bard’s turn to bewildered. He sat up stat tall in his bench now, brows furrowed, taking a briefer moment to ponder. “What’s your name?”

Your head tilted. “Where I’m from it’s rude to ask for someone’s name without offering your own first.” It was a plane way of throwing his question back at him; you weren’t looking to get overly acquainted with anyone if you could avoid it.

“Oh!” He was beaming excitedly again. “Where is it you are from?!"

You gave him an unblinking stare for what felt like a medium sized eternity. Clearly he was not accustom to taking non verbal ques. You decided to just give in to his delicate personality. "Florrum.”

“Ahh.” He nodded in a knowing matter. “Beautiful country.”

“Right.” He was pulling Bantha wool over your eyes in an attempt to impress you. It was arguably charming.

“Where is that exactly? From here I mean.” The bard laughed nervously as he knocked his head playfully. “I get so turned around while mindlessly fallowing my muse on his travels.”

“Your Muse?” It was time to change the subject.

“Oh hohoho! He is a man of Destiny, Heroics, and Heart Brake.” The man practically jumped out of his seat and with one leg propped up onto the bench he swung his instrument back front side. “Shall I play you a song about him?”

Head half in your hands you nodded. Your bashful nature told you you would regret this, but you didn’t have the heart to say no.

He was taking his first heaving breath before starting to strum when another interrupted the musician, yanking him back by the shoulder. “Jaskier. We’re leaving.” The new man was hulking and clad in black studded leathers, with eyes of gold. He wasn’t old, but his hair was as silver as his blades. A striking appearance. Perhaps humans weren’t the only sentient species on this forsaken planet.

209 notes · View notes

readbeneaththelines · 5 years

Text

Just The Person I Need Pt. 7

Kwon JiYong is a Multi Million Dollar business man thrown into parenthood when his brother and sister-in-law die in an accident. leaving A son and daughter behind. Y/N is a nanny that loves what she does. What happens when their lives become intertwined? Will she be Just The Person He Needs?

Characters: Business Man!Kwon JiYong X Nanyy!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut somewhere along the way

Word Count: 3052

Warnings: Angst, Injury to character, SMUT, oral (F receiving) unprotected sex, (wrap it up loves)

cr to gif owner

You closed your eyes tight in protest of the bright morning sunlight streaming through the window. Reaching for your phone, you squinted while trying to look at the time. It was already ten o’clock, they had let you sleep in. You were really going to miss their kind nature. Sitting up, you stretched and stood up slowly. Today’s agenda was going to talk to the Kim’s first. You weren’t sure what to expect so you were a tad apprehensive. Taking a hot shower, you ran over the speech in her head. You had planned on telling them you would be willing to work their part of the last two weeks, but honestly, was hoping they would let you take early leave. With Soon-yoo taking your place, maybe you could start earlier than planned. You made a mental note to call her before talking to Mr. and Mrs. Kim. Wrapping a towel around your damp hair, you got dressed. Business casual is what you opted for when meeting with the Kim family. You dialed Soon-yoo’s number as you walked to the car. She was more than happy to start early, excited to start a real job and start saving for her schooling. You told her you were thankful for being available on such short notice.

You soon arrived at the Kim’s apartment, body shaky as you rode the elevator to the top floor. Hesitating briefly, you gently knocked. Mr. Kim answered, a surprised look on his face when he saw you standing in his doorway.

“Y/N, what brings you here today? We weren’t expecting you this weekend. I was just talking to Mr. Kwon. He wanted to let me know that he was planning on offering you a full time position. I was just hanging up when you knocked.”

A little taken aback, you definitely hadn’t planned on him calling your employers on your behalf.

“I am sorry Mr. Kim, that is why I am here. I was coming to let you know that I will be taking the position with Mr. Kwon. If you need me to, I can work my last two weeks, but I wanted to let you know Soon-yoo is available immediately. I am willing to do whatever you choose.” You felt bad, breaking this to two families in as many days.

“Please, do not feel sorrowful. You need to do what your heart tells you. If you feel led to help him, then we cannot hold you back. Soon-yoo will work fine for us, she had been a help many times and she will fit right in. Please take this time and rest. We will pay you through the last two weeks so you may have some money available to prepare for your next journey. We will miss you but wish you the very best.”

Mr. Kim was always a very proper and wise man. Not one to show much outward affection, so you were caught off guard as he hugged you gently and quickly. It was over before you had time to react and hug back. He went to the kitchen to write a check while you packed up the few things from your room. There was less here than at the Choi’s, so you were finished quickly. Thanking him again, you walked out for a final time. You told him you would visit Mrs. Kim and the baby before starting the new position.

Stepping into the warm sunlight, you let tears fall freely. You really were going to miss all of them. They had been a part of your everyday life, a family of sorts. You didn’t know what the future held in working with Mr. Kwon, but hoped that they would become a family to you too. Loading your bags into the trunk with the other one, you set off to find a room for the next two weeks. You settled on the one you had been at just a few nights ago. Paying the little old woman at the desk, you took your stuff to the room. It was open and airy, windows pushed open to let sun and warm air flow in. You tried calling Ha-eun, but her line was busy. They must still be visiting Jeju Island, you thought to yourself. You had so much to tell her when she got back. You needed to talk to someone, yet had no one. You had no family and very few friends, as you hadn’t had time to make new ones. You were alone, and at this moment, you felt very alone.

JiYong set the staff to work, clearing out the largest guest room for you. It would be situated halfway between the children’s room and his. He could feel his heart racing, a bit of anxiety creeping in. He wanted to make you felt at home, comfortable, and happy. Mi-sun and Se-jun would be back tomorrow after lunch. He spoke to each of them regarding your coming to help him care for them. They seemed interested, but unsure if you would like them.

“Why wouldn’t she like you? She is going to love you both. No one can resist the cuteness that is Mi-sun and Se-jun! I know you will each make her feel welcomed. Just be yourselves and everything will be okay.” he kept his tone light and cheery, not wanting to say anything that would make them have any doubt. He already liked you and he knew they would warm up to you rather quickly.

He was sitting at his desk, staring at the laptop’s screen, when you called.

“Hello, Mr. Kwon? Are you busy by chance?” your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hello, Miss Y/N. No, I am not busy at the moment, What can I do for you?”

“Well you told me to let you know when I wanted to pick out the furniture. I was wondering if you could meet me to go shopping.” her words came out hesitantly, the nervousness audible.

“I would be happy to meet you. Do I need to pick you up, or shall I meet you there?” did he sound excited? He had to admit he was happy to hear from her.

“I can meet you, where would you like to start?”

“Do you know where Roche Bobois is? How about you meet me there in an hour?”

“Are you sure? That place is very expensive! I would be content with something from IKEA.”

He was willing to spend that much on a bedroom suit? He must have tons if he thought of that place first.

Your head swam with the thought of just how rich he could be if that was his first choice. You realized you didn’t know very much about Kwon JiYong. She was hoping that today would shed some light on him and what he did.

“I am not going to buy something that we have to put together, besides I have bought many things from Roche. So, I will see you there in one hour. Drive carefully Miss.” He hung up, heart still racing but not as anxious. You really had no idea who he really was and the type of power and money he had at his command. He ate a quick meal then showered. The warm water calmed his heart, giving him a chance to think about what he would show you and if you might need anything else. He remembered you stating that you didn’t have many clothes or essentials. He had to think of way to have you agree to buying some things for yourself. With a smile on his face, he climbed into the Bentley Continental, the leather seat heated from the sun. Starting the engine, it purred to life. He set the audio to play his playlist, the first song was Toreador Song from the opera Carmen. He sped effortlessly through the traffic, making it to Roche with a few minutes to spare. He parked in his CEO spot, taking the delivery elevator to the lobby floor. He had to make sure you didn’t know that he owned Roche, at least not yet. Walking through the store, staff greeted him with bowing and many welcomes. He told them to not pay attention to him, as he would be shopping with a guest today. You were not to be made aware of his ownership. Everyone agreed, returning to their respective departments.

He stepped out front, sitting at the bench as he awaited your arrival. You walked up wearing a light yellow sundress that waved in the light breeze. He stood as you approached, your smile contagious, and he returned it.

“Shall we, Miss Y/N?” his arm extended for you to lead the way.

“Please Mr. Kwon, call me Y/N or Y/N/N. Having you being so formal is a bit unsettling. You may be my employer, but you may drop the formalities.”

“Okay, Y/N, only if you agree to drop the Mr. Kwon and just call me JiYong or Ji. Is that a deal?” his grin grew to reach his ears.

“That would be fine JiYong. There, now I am feeling more welcomed already. So, shall we? Are you sure we can’t just go to IKEA?” a nervous giggle passed your lips.

“We will start here. I can help you pick something that suits you. You will be sleeping in the bed and staying in that room, so I want you to feel at home in something you like. Now follow me.”

As the both of you walked around the showroom, your mouth stayed agape as you looked at the finely detailed furniture. Beds inlaid with gold filigree, dressers with Mother-of-Pearl in the handles, and lamps made of pure crystal. You were boggled that he was willing to spend so much on a bedroom set. JiYong watched you, slight amused at your reactions. He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but to just enjoy the experience.

“What style do you like in furniture? Any particular colors you like better than others? I can’t read your mind, so you need to help me out here.” Taking your hand, he turned you to look him in the eyes.

“I understand. As far as style, I have no idea. My bed sets have always been used or already in the rooms. I prefer Y/F/C but I also like Y/S/F/C. I guess I don’t really like girly-girl frilly, maybe more classic lines than curvy.”

“So you prefer traditional style to classic? Okay, that helps. You have never owned new furniture before? Well then I hope you enjoy this shopping spree. Let’s get started, over this way.” He grabbed your hand and led you towards the middle of the showroom. Rows and rows of beds set before you. The wood shined bright under the lights, nearly blinding you at times. You looked at every bed, hands running over the smooth detailed lines of the frame. When you turned around, the bed you wanted caught your eye. It was painted an antique white with your two favorite colors painted into the four posters. The canopy laid gently across the lattice work above the bed. Woven between the lattice work was ivy detailing carved from wood. The footboard had a built in dressing bench of solid wood, the carved ivy design wrapping around the edges. Entranced by its beautiful artwork, you walked to it, JiYong following close behind. You ran your fingers over the detailed carvings, dancing gingerly across wooden ivy leaves. He watched in awe, like a child seeing a toy for the first time. As a sale associate approached, he told her that he would take that bed, and have it delivered to his place later that day.

“You can get it that easily?” You were surprised that he didn’t even pay attention to the price tag. Taking a peak, you swayed slightly at seeing the price tag. It cost more than your used car. Ji-yong reached out in time to catch you, keeping you steady.

“How do you do that? I can’t even buy groceries without having to look at the cost. How can you just get it without looking?” you had a mixture of confusion and awe in your eyes.

“Y/N, just trust me when I say I don’t need to look at price tags. I’m not bragging, I just have no need to pay attention to that sort of thing usually.”

Nodding absently, you toyed with the belt around your waist. It took a few minutes to accept his statement and continue shopping. You settled on a small matching dresser and nightstand. Pleased with what you chose, he walked you outside. The sun was high, the warmth surrounding both of you. You turned your head upwards, letting the heat soak in.

“Are you hungry?”

“I am a little bit, but I can eat at the hostel later.” you had no idea what his plans were for the day and didn’t want to keep him from anything important.

“Why don’t we grab a quick bite, then go the the mall? I would like to supply your space with some things and I need you to pick them out.”

“JiYong, I don’t want to take up your time. We can do this another day if you have things to do.”

“I have no other plans today, so you are fine. Besides, I actually like shopping. Now, what would you like for lunch?”

After a few moments of deliberating, the two of you settled on Jungsik Dang, an upscale restaurant. You tried to argue, saying it was to expensive, but he told you it was his treat. You were seated immediately, a small table by the window overlooking Seoul. You glanced over the menu, settling on Branzino and a glass of white wine. After ordering, the waiter brought a bottle of white wine for JiYong to taste. Pouring two glasses, you were quickly left alone.

“So, do you mind me asking, what happened to your wrist?” you asked, hoping it wouldn’t upset him.

“Oh, this? It was me being stupid and not paying attention. That’s what I get for not getting good sleep, I guess.” a hint of a smile played across his lips.

Not wanting to press things any further, you nodded. Maybe he really was just exhausted and needed help in order to maintain his own sanity, and stability. You laughed to yourself as you imagined him walking around like a zombie and bumping into things. JiYong cocked his head, amusement and curiosity evident in his facial expression.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, curiosity in his tone.

“Oh, sorry, nothing. I just pictured you stumbling around from lack of sleep.” your cheeks once again blushing from letting him know your thoughts.

Lunch was shared over small talk about why you had decided to be a nanny instead of pursuing your chosen field of study. You talked about the kids and what their plans were after the summer was over. JiYong discussed what your role would be and what would be expected of you on a daily basis. He promised that you would have plenty of down time each week for yourself.

After lunch, they drove to the mall in comfortable silence. You wondered how you could feel so comfortable and at ease with someone you barely knew. He had an air about him that spoke of security and confidence. Before realizing it, you were parking and heading into the central hub of the mall. He told you were most of the stores were, letting you lead the way.

You walked through aisles of beautiful clothing, items with price tags you could not think of affording, ever. He watched as you would pick something up, hold it against your body, then put it back. He imagined the thoughts you were having, knowing your small savings was all you had to your name. When you would walk away, he would motion to a salesperson, have them take the item, and place it at the register. He would then rush to catch up with you and do the same thing over and over. As you would leave each store, he would find an excuse to step away and return to purchase the items to be delivered to his estate.

You did agree to purchase a few necessity items to have handy for your first days. By the time you had finished shopping, you had purchased a few new outfits and toiletry items. The both of you headed to his car, both showing signs of being tired. Yawning, you slid into the passenger seat, your head leaning back to rest on the headrest. After the short drive, they pulled up beside your car. You turned towards him before opening the door.

“Thank you so much for today. I had a lot of fun shopping. I hope I haven’t been too much trouble for you.”

“You haven’t been. I really did enjoy my time with you today. It actually was very relaxing.”

You set up a time for meeting the children tomorrow, at his estate. Once you were out of the car, you leaned down to talk to him through the window.

“Thank you again for a great time today. See you all tomorrow.” With that you walked to your car, JiYong watching to ensure you got in safely.

You spent the rest of the evening packing the things you had purchased. Looking at all you owned, you were saddened to realize you did not have very many possessions to your name. Beside the few items you had bought, all your belonging fit into a single large suitcase with some room still left over. After putting everything aside, you grabbed a book and sat down by the open window and began reading. Several hours later you woke up, book against your chest, and the moon hanging high in the night sky. Looking at the clock, you noticed it was already one a.m. Stretching your arms, you walked slowly to the pallet bed and crawled under the sheets. Rechecking the alarm, you pulled the covers up and fell fast asleep. Your dreams were filled with smiling brown and honey colored eyes and a tall lean-framed man standing beside you.

@beautifulseoulliar @lynnbyun @astronomyturtle @aspaceformyself @trashkazuya @maxinaptak @micky1518 @rosiemilas @karri570

@seoulsunshineandstories @kwonnansi @xjamlessparkx @berryjam17

#kwon jiyong #jiyong x reader #jiyong smut #jiyong fluff

33 notes · View notes

365daysofsasuhina · 4 years

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Thirty-Six: A Yellow Cloth ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hōzuki Suigetsu, Hōzuki Mangetsu ] [ SasuHina, gun, alcohol ] [ Verse: Stockades and Stagecoaches ] [ AO3 Link ]

The rain just starts to pour as he walks in.

Given the weather (and the fact no one wants to be out in it), the saloon is actually fairly full despite it only being early afternoon. Patrons sit at tables and mull about on their feet, several gathered around the bar itself. Despite the glum atmosphere of dreary clouds and downpours, the spirits inside seem rather high. Talk is boisterous, and only emboldened further by drink...which seems to flow rather freely.

Part of Sasuke wants to indulge, but...he wants his wits about him. He’s not here to make merry and put his feet up. No...he’s here to work.

There’s only a slight pause in the room as he steps in. Otherwise, most are quick to get back to their business. He’s rather unremarkable, after all. Just a darkly-dressed man of no real note. He could be anyone: farmhand, ranchhand, cattle rustler, outlaw...but so long as he isn’t here to cause trouble, most people won’t mind what precisely he is. Even citizens who do things a bit outside the box have thirsts, after all.

...which is why Sasuke came here first.

Sasuke isn’t an outlaw himself. Far from it. The son of a man who struck oil on their land, he’s actually set to be rather well off. But as cushy as his life has been since the day they found the so-called ‘black gold’ as those in their industry call it, Sasuke has found it rather...boring. Unrewarding.

So he’s taken up a different means of employment.

He’s a bounty hunter.

Keeping his air mostly unassuming (and yet a touch unapproachable), he does indeed call for a bottle of whiskey...but he’s barely going to sip it. He needs to look like he belongs here. If he’s in any way out of place...they’ll likely bolt.

Of course, that’s assuming that the pair of men he’s after are even here. But the sheriff of the county did his best to offer clues, and suggested that this be the place Sasuke started.

“They’re a pair of slippery devils, but they have the vice of making time for drinks. Wait around long enough, and you’re sure to spot them sooner or later.”

These two - the Hōzuki brothers - are worth a pretty penny...so Sasuke doesn’t mind paying the waiting game. Sure, he doesn’t need the money...but the price upon a man’s head - dead or alive - typically indicates how dangerous he is to go after.

And that is what Sasuke is after. Adventure! Danger! Excitement! Anything but sitting and listening to his father talk about exports and accounts and...whatever other drivel Itachi has been instead soaking up like a sponge.

His brother can do what he wants. But Sasuke can’t tolerate it. After growing up with his comfortable lot in life, he’s eager to dive into the more questionable parts.

So far? He’s done fairly well. But this is his first double contract. Time to see what he’s capable of.

Clearing a shot glass with a yellow cloth, the barkeep eyes him a bit curiously. “Getting an early start, are we?”

“Nothing better to do until the weather clears up,” Sasuke replies blithely, accepting the bottle and cup the man hands him and exchanging it for the proper coin. Retreating to a solitary corner table, he uncorks the bottle and pours his first (and last) cup. Making to nurse it slowly, he barely takes a few drops before roving dark eyes over the crowds.

His initial sweep didn’t reveal anyone of interest. Seems they’re not here...not yet, at any rate. In the meantime, he keeps up his charade. It’s enough to convince anyone who gives him a glance. No one looks close enough to notice his cup never empties...nor does his bottle.

The afternoon crawls by, the weather eventually lightening a bit. Watching the storm lessen to a few trickles of water, Sasuke glances up as a pair of men enter the tavern.

...it’s them.

They immediately make a beeline for the bar, stocking up on several bottles before settling at a table not too far off from his own. Around them, the other patrons seem to hiccup slightly, giving them wary glances. It seems most either know - or at least suspect - who and what they are.

Keeping to his reclusive expression, Sasuke doesn’t make to pay them much mind...but he listens keenly as they speak.

“So how long until we’re gettin’ paid, anyway?”

“When the job’s done!”

“You mean it ain’t?”

“Not yet, little brother.”

“But we got the girl, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, we did. But we ain’t got the ransom yet! The girl isn’t what we’re after, it’s her papa’s money, numbskull!”

“I know that! But what’s the ransom got t’do with us? We’re just the muscle to rob the coach she was on and bring her in to t’boss!”

“We can’t get paid until Kisame arranges the deal. Honestly, Suigetsu...pay attention, would ya? We get a cut of the ransom, which means we can’t leave town until it’s over. I wanna make sure he don’t screw us out of our fair share, after all…”

The younger brother sulks over his beer. “Why couldn’t we just rob a coach with money in it ‘stead of some girl…”

“Her papa owns the biggest herd a’ sheep in the state. What with all them...textiles or whatever, he makes big money. More than they put on any plain ol’ coach. It’s a little extra work for a hell of a lot more cash. That’s why we took this job.”

“Enough to pay off our bounties?”

“And then some.”

“Sorry, gentlemen…”

Glancing up, the pair eye Sasuke as he stands with a cocked hip at their table. “...the hell do you want?”

“Ideally, for the two of you to surrender yourselves to the law quietly and without any fuss. But I’ve been doing this long enough to know that ain’t likely.”

After a beat, they both break out into laughter. “What’re you, some kinda...deputy?” the elder brother scoffs with a grin. “I don’t see no badge, officer.”

Drawing twin pistols and aiming each square at the men’s faces as the tavern goes silent, Sasuke smirks. “Technically I’m known as a bounty hunter. And I don’t make arrests...I bring in bodies. Alive...or dead. Whatever’s easier. Now...you have two options. Make a scene, and I shoot you both. Or you surrender, and I take you in alive. Either way, I get paid. I suppose I’d just rather this go the easy way, if I had a choice. And don’t both with funny business - I’ve got reflexes that’ll see you both dead before you can try to flip any tables or throw any smoke. Least if you cooperate, you’ll get a few more days before they hang you.”

Expressions no longer amused, the brothers exchange a glance. “...what if we offer you a third option, pardner?”

“...and what would that be?”

“Information on a fish a lot bigger than us,” the younger pipes up, clearly catching on. “You ever heard a’ Kisame Hoshigaki?”

Guns still trained on their brows, Sasuke perks his own. “...I have.”

“We just ran a job for him! Kidnapped some bigwig’s daughter for ransom - Hyūga! Listen - you let us tell you where he is, and you’ll get better than our two measly bounties. Kisame’s worth five thousand last I heard! And - and I bet the father’ll reward you real nice for bringing his little girl home! Kisame’s bounty and her reward...we give you the intel, and you let us walk. How ‘bout it?”

Sasuke considers that. Kisame is, indeed, a big name in the bounty world. Several other hunters he’s known have been killed trying to bring him down. But if he had insider info, the element of surprise… “...tell you what. You give me the information...I take you in, and tell the sheriff you assisted the law. Surely they’ll knock your bounties down for your civil service...maybe to something you can afford. I can likely do that much for you. But a paid bounty don’t mean you go rackin’ up another, y’hear?”

“Sounds fair to me, boss,” the elder agrees. “You, uh...mind lowerin’ your gun and shakin’ on it?”

“Does the word of a criminal have any weight to it?”

“I might be a lawbreaker, but that don’t mean I ain’t honorable to my word. Every man’s got a code. I follow mine.”

“...done.” Twirling one pistol back to its holster to free his hand, Sasuke shakes his new companion’s. “Now...you two and me’ll take a stroll to the sheriff’s. They’ll take record of your help, and I’ll go see about this Kisame feller. You can wait there until I confirm you told me the truth. Then we’ll see about getting your bounties paid.”

“Deal.”

Keeping his gun aloft, Sasuke nods them to the door before giving a salute to the bewildered barmen as they take their leave.

The station, thankfully, is just down the street of the small town. Sasuke explains their arrangement, earning a scowl from a deputy.

“We don’t like makin’ deals with criminals.”

“And I don’t like passing up a chance to bring someone far worse to justice and letting two small fry go once their bounties are paid. It’s a fair trade, and you know it.”

“Enough,” the sheriff cuts in wearily with a wave of a hand. “We’ll make the trade...but only once you bring Hoshigaki in. Until then, we’ll keep these fellers right here...where there’s no stagecoaches to hold up.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bringing out a map, the brothers point out Kisame’s location. “He’s holed up here, in this ol’ mine. Got the lady there, and he’s gonna arrange a meetin’ with her father for her ransom. He won’t be expecting trouble until then, and that’s a few days out at least.”

“Anyone with him?”

“Four or five men. Didn’t want to draw attention movin’ as a group. Just stay low and quiet. If you can get your hands on him first, the rest’ll roll over.”

Sasuke eyes the map carefully. “...all right. You two hold tight...I’ll be back in two days. See you sit here and think over your past decisions, hm?”

Looking resigned, they sit in the holding cell and watch as Sasuke makes his way back outside.

The day is aging, and the sky still dark with rainclouds. Best he wait until morning to get started. That way he’ll get there just as night falls...and that’ll give him an advantage. Mind whirling with plans...he rents a room in the local inn, and does his best to get some sleep.

.oOo.

This is so darn random, but for some reason it was the only thing I could think of xD The image of the barman popped into my head, and the rest just kinda...happened, lol - I know it's a cliffie, but it's already super long as is for one of these entries, so...another time! I've only written a western AU once before for another ship, but it's more fun than I thought it would be! I live pretty darn rural myself, so a lot of it's actually pretty familiar x3 And Sasuke as a bounty hunter is a neat idea. And ofc heiress Hinata! Anywho, I've got lots to do tomorrow, so I better head off for the night~ Thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hōzuki suigetsu #hōzuki mangetsu #gun //#alcohol //#stockades and stagecoaches [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

17 notes · View notes

theysaywhatasadsight · 5 years

Text

Fangs, Claws and Webshooters

A/n: This is for @revengingbarnes ‘s 10k writing challenge, the theme of which was TV shows. I chose Teen Wolf with Peter P. This was an interesting challenge to write!

She walked out of ethics, books in hand, her friends giggling at a joke Rachel was making. She rolled her eyes and laughed at Rachel's annoyed face. Her phone chimed, causing her to do an awkward juggle as she took it out of her pocket.

“There’s an old warehouse near Tempaera's, 3 A.M. He'll be armed.” The peaceful facade of her being just another average college student was broken, replaced by the reality; she was a nameless and faceless mercenary, engaged in the slaughter of a new hunter. Misusing her werewolf abilities was not ethical, then again she had grown up in Beacon Hills, where every second week a new creature popped up, hell bent on destroying the world.

Shooting off a quick message to respond to another friend's text, she wondered what excuse she would make this time for skipping date night.

Having a significant other wasn't something she had yet become used to. There was flirting, of course, mild and harmless with all her brother's friends (and later even proteges; true alpha certainly attracted werewolves everywhere) but never something that was even borderline serious.

She’d never previously had any time to pursue relationships, nor any motivation. Between protecting her town and somehow finding the time to study to even get a chance at a decent college. Needless to say, when she made it to MIT, following in the footsteps of Lydia, the entire pack was overjoyed but sad to let her go.

She’d met Peter in Introduction to Programming Languages, where he’d crashed in 15 minutes late, sat next to her and spent the entire time answering every question that was put up. They soon developed competitiveness, which lead to sniping back and forth at each other, to studying together for tests and then failing when the two realized they couldn’t sit and study without getting distracted.

She had her suspicions he was...something, because of his accelerated stamina and ability to go without sleep forever apparently. Possibly a werewolf, maybe something else; she would have to check the bestiary to be sure. He didn’t mind the missed dates or the occasions when she suddenly disappeared back to California for a ‘family emergency’, so maybe he did understand her reasons.

Before she could text him, her phone rang. She smiled and answered.

“Won’t make it today, gotta study for a Chemistry test.” he told her and sighed.

“I was about to cancel too, something’s come up.”

“Are you cheating on me, YN? I don’t take well to being second choice.”

“Yes, I’m cheating on you with Captain America, happy? Ugh those baby blues, that hair, what can I even say?”

“At Least you didn’t say Iron Man, I don’t think my heart could take it if you went at it with my former employer; not to mention he’s married to the CEO of Stark Industries.”

“Ha ha, Pete, I’m dying of laughter.”

“That was the intention.”

“Whatever, bye. Love you.”

“Yes, I love me too.” she let out a chuckle of disbelief and hung up.

She sat down to do a bit of homework before heading towards the warehouse. Scratching her head at the question, she was debating calling Peter to ask for help when her phone rang again.

“Stiles.”

“Hey. You, uh, got my text?”

“Yeah. Who is this guy anyway?”

“He’s, uh, you remember those killings a few years back? Everyone supernatural was a target?”

“Hmm, I guess? Bunch of people thought they’d rid the world of evil. He one of them?” she sighed.

“The philosophy’s pretty common, YN. They think we’re monsters, that the world is better off without us. He’s a part of a group going after every creature in the bestiary.”

“Are they going after mutants too?”

“Not those in the accords, as far as I know.”

“Never thought you’d be snooping around in government stuff. What would the Sheriff say?”

“Be disappointed in me, probably. Which is what your brother is now. He called me in a murderous rage about how I was ‘endangering his sister’s life’ and how i ‘should be more responsible’, considering I’m ‘an older brother figure to her’”

“How are the two of you even responsible in any way? You throw yourselves at any danger you find! I volunteered to do this, Stiles, I’m capable.”

“Speaking of, when were we going to hear about this guy you’re dating?”

“How’d you find out?”

“Peter Parker; good grades, straight A student, interned for a billionaire, but got in on that same scholarship you did.”

“Misusing and taking advantage of your position?”

“Maybe. So I have to give a full report on him to Scott but if you could…”

“I’ll text you when it’s done, Stiles, I’ve got homework, bye!” she cut the call, smiling fondly.

She walked into the warehouse, whistling.

“Let’s make this easy for both of us. You stop hiding and come out, I kill you and I go back home and do my chem homework.”

“Werewolf. You took the bait.”

‘You’ve just started talking and I already want to kill you, God. How does your little cult stand you?”

“Your species is a walking plague. How many have you infected, little one?” he stepped into her view, brandishing a gun pointed straight at her.

“Plague? Species? I’m not some mythical beast.” she kept her tone taunting to hide the waver in her voice. It was only the 3rd time she was doing this. “I should go into bounty hunting, heard it’s lucrative.”

“You’ll have to get out here alive before you go making plans, beast.” he whispered before firing, she dodged and snarled, claws snapping and features shifting. She ran at him, swiping. He ducked and sliced at her right side with a knife. Crying out in pain, she fell, throwing her claws at him in frustration. He fell too, crawling backwards to get away from her. She stood up, grabbing a metal rod from his bag and dragging it towards him, it ringing on the floor.

“We’re going to do this old fashioned human way, then” she grunted, wincing at the cut near her kidney. “You added wolfsbane to the knife, huh? You’re pro, I’ll give that to you.” She hit at his wrist, making him scream and drop the knife. “But I’ve seen worse.”

She hit his abdomen, then his torso. The wolfsbane hurt like hell, and she was sure she was about to lose her vision.

“It’s not just wolfsbane, little one. It’s something much, much better.”

She swore under her breath as her legs gave out. Reaching out, claws extended, she closed your eyes, hearing powder showering down on the floor.

The man raised the gun a final time, saying a prayer to his gods. He smiled, squeezing the trigger-

The glass windows above crashed as a masked figure swung in. The man shot at whatever it was, but they were too fast. He was suddenly immobilized, down on the floor with sticky webs on his wrists that pinned him down.

Peter rushed to the girl lying inside the circle of what looked to be ash. The killer had a ritual apparently, where the victims were surrounded by ash and were gunned down. He turned the girl over, who was convulsing. Recognizing the face, he inhaled sharply. Picking up the rod next to her, he swung at the killer’s head, knocking him out cold. He picked up his girlfriend and strode out.

He laid her down gently on the asphalt and took his mask off. She was awakening gradually, gasping in pain.

“YN, hold on, okay, I'm calling an ambulance.”

“No, wait.” She coarsely whispered. He leaned over her. “Is the cut healing?”

“It's deep, really really deep.”

“There's a lighter in the pocket of my jacket. Take it out and burn the wound.”

“What? No, I'm not gonna hurt you more.”

“It'll help with the wolfsbane, Peter. Do it.” She groaned. He quickly took it out and switched it on, grimacing as he put it on her skin. The wound gave off yellow smoke and her eyes glowed. Her claws dug into the ground underneath.

“That's it, that'll take the wolfsbane out. Call whoever you want and tell them...tell them I was in an accident.” She managed to whisper before she blacked out. Peter looked at her, brushing away hair from her forehead.

She came to gradually, eyelids fluttering. Her head pounded and she had no control over her limbs. She tried to sit up, wincing. She was in the hospital, it seemed. There was commotion in the chair to the right. Someone abruptly sat up, blinking widely.

“Scott,” she whispered as he stood up and hugged her.

“Stupid girl. I told you, you don’t go after a manic killer on your own.” he kissed her hair.

“Did you two rescue me?”

“No, we got here a day ago. Your boyfriend called Stiles, the first number he found on your phone and Stiles called me and…”

“How long have I been out?” she cut him off.

“Three days.”

“Scott, whatever he shot me with, it was beyond wolfsbane, I couldn’t heal.”

“Yes, Lydia researched it, said it was some kind of hybrid derivative. These people, they’re trained to take us out. She’s trying to find an antidote.”

“Coffee, kid?” Stiles sat down next to Peter, handing him a cup.

“Yeah, thanks.” his eyes were bloodshot, not having slept for the past 3 days. After he left that warehouse, he had called in anonymously to the emergency services, telling them the location and the restrained killer inside.

“You should go get some sleep. I think they’re only allowing family as of now.” he sighed.

“Nah, I’m good.” Stiles nodded, as they sat in awkward silence.

“So, uh, Spiderman?”

“I’m sorry what?”

“You’re spiderman, right?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Kid, I work for the government, I know my way around.”

“Oh yeah? Well, your hometown's life expectancy is really, really low. Teens killed every year, 65 percent go out of town for college. Care to explain? Didn’t think so.”

Stiles grimaced. “You’re smart, kid. So, tell me this, are you one of those assholes hunting supernaturals?”

“What? No!”

“So, you’re not spiderman and yet managed to walk out of a skirmish with a, uh, serial killer, which, might I add, your werewolf girlfriend couldn't and called me?” He shrugged. “It’s your secret to keep, buddy, just, don’t put YN in danger.”

“She kind of did that on her own. At your suggestion, I believe.”

“I told her not to do it, okay? And she said, I quote “I have claws and fangs, Stiles, I intend to use them.” I mean, who says that? How can you get through college and be an assassin? It was different in high school.”

“How so? Were you all assassins for hire?” Peter turned to him.

“No, no no. We were just trying to live and supernatural shit would often come up and try to kill us. It was batshit crazy stuff.”

“I’m kind of familiar with that, except I never had a pack.”

“Boohoo, sob story, wait until you hear about when I got possessed by an evil spirit...wait what? So you do admit you’re Spiderman?”

“Look, I’ve missed three days of classes and my girlfriend is 3 rooms over trying not to die.”

“She’s like my baby sister dude, not that you should have any sisterly feelings for her, and..”

He paused when a nurse leaned down in front of the two.“Um, Mr. Parker? Mr. Stilinski? Ms. McCall is awake and requesting to see the both of you. I’d advise you to not give sudden shocks or news.”

She was talking on the phone when the two came rushing to the door. She held up a finger while Scott stood up from the chair he was sitting in.

“She’s talking to Mom right now, telling her not to worry.”

“She’s not listening.” she smiled as she cut the call. Glancing up, she saw the three figure standing at the threshold, all glowering. She sat up, got down from the bed and walked over.

“Okay. Scott, you’ve done your protective alpha thing already. Stiles, Peter, you two can battle to death over who gets to scream at me first. I, need that" she said grabbing Peter's cup and sipped.

“Okay, stop. You're not poisoning yourself with shitty coffee the minute you wake up.” Stiles took the cup back from her. “And lie down, please.”

She made a face and sat down on the bed. “How soon are they discharging me?”

“They'll keep you under observation for a few days.”

“I have classes to attend!”

“You didn't really care about that when you went after a gun-toting maniac.” Peter frowned.

She rolled her eyes and lay down again.

“That's not how I wanted you to meet Scott, you know.” You smiled at Peter as he dropped you off to your dorm a few days later.

“They're...nice, if a little…”

“Scary?”

“More like funny.”

“Hey, he's my alpha okay? We learned how to kill and maim before we learned calculus.”

“You'd make great friends with Black Widow, you know?”

“OH MY GOD, YOU KNOW HER?” He laughed as she poked him repeatedly, “Peter! Answer me!”

#fatimas10kchallenge #peter parker x reader #teen wolf imagine #marvel x teen wolf #crossover fic #peter parker x werewolf!reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #mcu x teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman x y/n #tw x y/n

77 notes · View notes

the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Slumbering Hearts (Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 1

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language/brief nudity Warnings: None Summary: In a wicked twist of fate, you find out your soulmate is none other than your employer, Lady Dimitrescu. To your misery, she (at first) seems equally displeased, her heart already belonging to another. But in time, the two of you find yourselves wondering... could the universe be right, after all? Soulmate AU in which every person has a unique "soul mark", which they share with their soulmate. Notes: Reader is gender neutral, but at some points will be described as leaning towards being feminine (due to personal interpretation of Alcina's character). Additionally, Lady D will eventually be referred to by her first name, so don't worry if you feel weird about her being called by her full title all the time, it's just for this chap, when the reader isn't familiar with her. Lastly, this contains a bit of one sided Alcina/Miranda, which serves as a plot point, but is (clearly) not the primary ship.

1: In The Shadow Of Giants

Three months, two weeks, and one day. That’s how long you’ve been at this accursed castle, serving cruel mistresses, having been plucked from your peaceful life in the village. Anger stains your every thought, slowly festering inside your chest. There is no cure, at least not without a fatal price, but there are mild remedies. ‘Tis not long before the other servants learn to give you the more physically demanding chores. Nothing numbs your mind quite the same way that chopping firewood does, though you often settle for hard scrubbing age-old tile. Every day ends with your muscles crying from the effort of it all. Every day… except today. Another servant, from the night shift, has been wounded severely, and her job was deemed too important to be foregone.

And, as such, she has been replaced. By you. For once, you turn in early, long before your clothes can become stained with sweat. Yet you aren’t happy, not when you know that this change will ruin your sleep for weeks to come. Even worse, it’ll be impossible to avoid your ‘employers’, whereas working the day shift meant almost never seeing them. So far, you have only seen them on four or five occasions. Hell, you’ve only met two of them, being Cassandra and Bela. Based on what others told you, the other two weren’t much (if at all) better. As you try your best to get some rest, only a single ‘positive’ thought runs through your head: Well, worst comes to worst, I’ll get killed, then I won’t have to worry about anything anymore.

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

“Remember: No talking unless you’re asked a question. The Mistress has had a rough morning, and this is her best chance at relaxing,” Juniper explains, for what seems like the eighth time since the two of you met. There’s a nervous energy around her, which does little to ease your own anxieties. If you heard correctly, she’s only been at the castle for a couple weeks, having previously worked for Mother Miranda. You’re not sure what would have caused the transfer, considering most who were ‘fired’ ended up dead. Something told you that it had to do with antsy nature. “Oh, and don’t leave unless dismissed, even once your part is done. We all need to be ready, in case Mistress- I mean, Lady Dimitrescu needs something. Sorry, I’m still getting used to how things work here.”

“As long as you don’t slip up in front of her and get us both killed, I don’t really care,” you replied, giving Juniper a level stare. Clearly unsure how to respond, she pauses for a moment, mouth opening then closing without a sound. Once she’s seemingly composed herself, you give a short nod and push open the door to the bathroom. Two other servants are already inside, and they flinch at your arrival, briefly mistaking you for their boss. “I can hardly believe they made me change shifts for this,” you add, under your breath, rolling your eyes. What was so important about making sure a few candles stayed lit? During bathtime? Maybe it was something you had to be a giant, vampiric noblewoman to understand. Regardless of your annoyance, you quickly get to work, striking the first of a couple matches. It’s a rather dull task. To think you would have preferred heavy labor to this.

Before long, the last flame springs to life, and Juniper dims the lights, allowing the candles to become the focus. At least one is scented, though you cannot place the specific kind. Less than a minute after the last one is lit, the door once again swings open, revealing your most elusive employer. She’s… more than you anticipated. In every conceivable way, truthfully. Taller, more graceful (even as she has to duck through the entrance), and, as much as you hate to think so, far, far more beautiful. If not for the warm lighting of the room, you would have worried about someone seeing your blush. Certainly I am not the first to react this way, you think, as you bow alongside the others.

“Yes, yes, get on with it,” Lady Dimitrescu says, with a sharp frown. Then she moves closer to the tub, which you imagine could fit half a dozen ‘normal’ people, and holds out her arms to her side. For a moment you’re confused, but you instinctively mimic the motions of the other maidens. Together the four of you reach for her robe, gently taking hold of it while she steps into the bath, before hanging it onto a nearby hook. A second later your entire world is turned upside down. You’re freezing in place, eyes wide, as the bare back of Lady Dimitrescu reveals itself to you. Yet this is not an instance of poorly veiled lust. No, it is equal parts horror and repulsion, for you find yourself staring at a distinctive soul marking.

One that matches your own.

Beside you, Juniper watches you with concern, silently urging you to stay silent. Neither of the other two servants seem to react, other than by taking a small step backwards. Unable to speak, let alone form coherent thoughts, all you can do is point a trembling finger towards the soul mark. It’s right in between Lady Dimitrescu’s shoulder blades. Once upon a time, you had marveled at the design, smiling every time you saw it in the mirror. Now, it might as well be the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen. Based on her expression, Juniper seems to agree, although for different reasons. As your hand drops back to your side, you try to compose yourself enough to focus on the task before you. Instead, someone breaks the quiet, boldly, daring to think that they would be rewarded for it.

“My Lady,” a servant says, stepping forward, shooting you a waywards glance. Instantly she has your employer’s attention, though that comes with the metallic sssssslk of her claws extending. There’s an unspoken threat that demands respect. None comes, however, just the frenzied words of a panicked maiden. “I know who your soulmate is, my Lady. I thought that perhaps you’d-”

“A name. Give me… a name,” Lady Dimitrescu interjects, claws still out and impatiently tapping on the tile floor. Tense, you start to step forward, wanting desperately to silence the treacherous maiden. But her tongue is faster than your fist, and soon enough your name is echoing through the room. “Oh? The one right behind me, hmm? Dreadfully convenient, really. Step forward, dear, and let me see the proof. Assuming it exists.” All eyes other than hers are on you, now. With a deep breath, you begrudgingly step in front of Lady Dimitrescu, trying not to even briefly glance at her chest (or worse, lower). One of her hands shifts, a long claw tilting your chin up. “Well?”

“Forgive the placement,” you mutter, awkwardly grabbing your shirt collar, tugging it down to reveal your soul mark, planted neatly on the center of your chest. If Lady Dimitrescu’s gaze wanders, it does so too quickly to be noticed, though she does make a low humming noise at the sight. Feeling much like a piece of meat on display at the butcher’s, you scowl deeply. Soon enough, but not as soon as you’d like, the claw under your chin retracts, and you once more cover up your soul mark. You can’t bring yourself to look your soulmate in the eyes.

“Hmm. Not what I expected. Not at all,” she muses, more to herself than to you, softly. Behind her, Juniper is sending you a sympathetic expression. All you can do, as Lady Dimitrescu judges you, is glare at the origin of this revelation. What did she think to gain by speaking up? Hadn’t she heard the same rumors that you had? Didn’t she know that your employer already loved another, even if that affection was unrequited? There was, simply put, no chance that you were the preferable option. Not when there was no race against neither time nor death. At best, you could be a distraction. Something to keep her mind off of the person she’d rather be with. “Go clean up, get some sustenance if you must, then go to my quarters. We will discuss this further there- after I am done here.”

With that said, she waves you off, letting you relax for the first time in several minutes. After giving a short bow, you immediately move to leave. On your way, you intentionally bump shoulders with the maiden who spoke up, sending her a glare, then give Juniper a nod of acknowledgement. Nervous wreck or not, she was the only person you ‘knew’ on the night shift. Not that such a thing would even matter soon. To think that we’ve been soulmates this whole time, you think, living in the same castle for months, never seeing each other. I wish things could have stayed that way. At least you’d have some time to process your developing situation. Though you doubted you’d have enough time.

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

In an unusual change of pace, Alcina dismisses the rest of her servants, long before her bath is done. They exchange glances before scattering to the winds. A heavy sigh leaves her lips, and she sinks lower into the tub. Of course I have a soulmate, she thinks, bitterly. I knew this. Knew that it wasn’t her, and yet still, I find myself surprised. Disappointed, even. How had an already rough evening gotten even worse? More than that, what was she supposed to do about it? There was a part of her that wanted to kill her soulmate. She figured that, with them out of the way, the universe might finally understand who she was meant to be with. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for ‘widows’ to be given a new match, and those were generally other ‘widows’. Considering that Alcina knew for a fact that Mother Miranda’s soulmate had long since died, she did not think that her hopes were beyond possibility.

But there was another part of her, quieter, that dared to be more realistic. If the universe said that this human, this tiny thing, was her soulmate… would it not make sense to at least try? What harm could it do, when her current love had been unrequited for so long? Was this not the end to several decades of loneliness? Damn it, she thinks, gripping the edge of the bathtub until her knuckles turned white. There was no denying it, now that a single drop of rational thought had corrupted her mind. Fuck it all, I hardly have a choice. Or anything to lose, for that matter. With her decision made, she rises to her feet, emotionally ready to face the unknown.

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

“Ah, so you do follow directions, after all. I half expected to learn that you had attempted to flee, or perhaps had a gruesome run in with one of my daughters,” Lady Dimitrescu chimes, as she ducks into her room. Inside, standing at attention, you await. All of your earlier nervousness returns, though this time it is tinged with your natural rage. Of all the monsters in the world, this was the one you were expected to love. It mattered not how tall she was, or how sharp her nails could be, or how fierce her loyalty to Mother Miranda. To you, it mattered that you had no choice in being here, that only a handful of servants had come to the castle willingly. It mattered that a single mistake could mean a cruel death. So you did not greet your soulmate with a smile, or excitement, rather with a forced bow and blank expression. Better to be dead than to fake true love. “Come now, do at least pretend that you are excited, for my sake. I have been waiting a century for this, after all.”

“Perhaps the universe found it difficult to find someone who could love you,” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth, instant regret boiling up inside of you. What you expect is a swift death. What you get? A deep sigh, a scowl, a look of frustration. Still fearing your possible demise, you are quick to keep speaking. “Or maybe the universe heard me talk once, and struggled to find someone to tolerate me. Countless possibilities, a galaxy full of mysteries… and here we are. Forgive me for being crass, my Lady. I would blame it on my schedule change, but something tells me you would see right through that lie, yes?” Not like that was much better, you think, wondering how the hell you were going to survive this.

“You’re quite the character, aren’t you?... Do try not to make me regret this, I’d rather not kill my soulmate. Now, sit down, it’s about time for a proper introduction,” Lady Dimitrescu commands. Then she’s sitting on the edge of her bed, gently patting the spot next to her. Joining her is just about the last thing you want to do right now… but you obey nonetheless. Still, you angle yourself away from her ever so slightly, hoping the subtle body language would help you distance yourself from her. There’s something in her expression that tells you she knows exactly what you’re trying to do. “I am Lady Dimitrescu, though you already know that. You may call me Alcina… for now. Behave, or that is one of many privileges I will not hesitate to take from you. Understood?”

It takes all of your willpower to avoid rolling your eyes, but you manage, instead giving a short nod. This’ll be interesting, for sure.

#lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #love this lady<3

363 notes · View notes

hollyhomburg · 6 years

Text

SANDCASTLES

♡ PART 1: DONT SMILE AT ME ♡ (OMEGAVERSE AU) (POLYAMORY AU) (SOULMATE AU)

♡ SERIES MASTERLIST ♡ MASTERLIST ♡

SUMMARY: In a world where omega/omega relationships are taboo, Your relationship with Park Jimin is doomed from the start. But can soulmates really ever stop loving each other? After all, All sandcastles must eventually fall apart.

PAIRINGS: Omega! Jimin x Omega! Reader x Alpha! Namjoon x Alpha! Hoseok x Alpha! Yoongi, Beta! Taehyung x Omega! Reader,

TAGS: fluff, childhood sweethearts, forbidden love, brief sexual harassment. hurt/comfort. TRIGGERS IN LATER CHAPTERS.

W/C: 4.9k

- Jimin and you grow up in houses next to each other.

- And from the first time Jimin takes your small hand in his,(to take you to meet his new puppy that he got as a moving present from his aunt) he knows he never ever wants to let go.

- You play after school with each other every day, you sit with him at lunch, and demand to be in his class too the point where the teachers just give up and let you transfer.

- You stage a play wedding every other week, inviting all of your stuffed animals and Jimin’s dog, and you and Jimin take it very very seriously. Your parents just shrug and give each other the side eye when you announce that jimin and you are on your honeymoon one Saturday morning when you come over for cartoons. they look at each other, shrug, and think that maybe one day.

- You hold his hand when you pass the scary dog that lives in the house across the street from your bus stop. And Jimin brings you things like a pet crow, for years you keep boxes of bottle caps, glow in the dark stars, and flowers that eventually dry with age.

- Neither of your parents is surprised when you and Jimin start sneaking in each other’s bedroom windows and snuggling at age 10. (when Jimin finally grew tall enough to reach your window with a chair from your front patio)

- Or surprised that they catch you kissing one day beneath your family’s oak tree at 13.

- But neither of you have presented yet when you finally get around to expressing your affection in words at 14. And you decide that it doesn’t matter, one of you will probably be a beta anyways- 60 percent of the population is and both of Jimin’s parents are.

- With 15 percent of the population being omega and the rest alpha.

- In true puberty fashion- you present first, at age 15 as an omega, no ones really surprised, least of all Jimin.

- You’re so mothering, so caring, you're always asking him for piggyback rides and hugging him close at every opportunity. The Neediness A hallmark of all omegas, omegas are empathetic like you, and affectionate like you.

- And Jimin loves you more for it- that’s why he’s convinced he’s going to be an alpha, because if he was a beta than he wouldn't care right? and if he was an omega he would find you behavior annoying right?

- That’s what his parents said about omega’s and other omega’s, that they never worked well with alpha’s, that they where a bother for their employers, and should just stick to raising kids and stay home and wait for their alpha or beta mates to come home.

- God forbid an omega actually love another omega, that was just plain disgusting and an abomination in your parent's eyes.

- Omega/omega couplings are Taboo in your society. In a world where only 40% of betas can reproduce, and only 15% of the population is regularly fertile.

- Alpha/alpha relationships where almost just as taboo as omega/omega relations, but beta/beta relationships where seen much like alpha omega relationships.

- Any relationship that couldn’t bear offspring was seen as useless and a waste.

- Despite the slander against your sex, Jimin is so lucky, his cute omega childhood sweetheart. And he finds himself hoping for the first time that he presents as an alpha and not a beta- so that he can give you the steadiness and comfort that all omegas crave.

- He wants to be strong to you and wants to stick by your side for as long as he can- the way it is in Jimin’s head- there’s no future of his where you aren’t there. you’re his soulmate for all intents and purposes of the word.

- You’re his soulmate, you’ve got to be

- But then Jimin gets his first heat- not a rut. Ruts, which usually last for just a few days, not heats that last for a week. Heats- which omegas get.

- Park Jimin is an Omega.

- And that changes everything for the two of you.

- Jimin’s parents don’t let him see you for the first 2 weeks after his Heat, they take him to stay at his aunt's house on the other side of town and take him out of school entirely. They take his phone away and his computer.

- he manages to convince his aunt to let him use their old desktop when his parents work late one night, and He sends you a text on aol instant messenger- the messaging system that you used to use as kids (you never uninstalled from your computer because you didn’t believe in deleting things). The two of you sneak out and meet at the park down the street from your house.

- His beta parents where thinking about sending him away to school in Seoul to a special school for omegas. Betas are always weighing costs and probabilities. They wanted him to have an easier time adjusting- but all he needed in the crazy whirlwind of emotions and new feelings was you.

- And at the moment you see him your heart lights up like it always does, but then the wind shifts and it wafts his flowery sweet omega scent towards you, he smells like citrus blossoms and honey. While your scent smells like roses and vanilla.

- Your parents made it very clear from the moment they had found out that Jimin presented as an omega, that they wouldn’t sanction a relationship between the two of you- and that you would find yourselves out on your Asses if you decided to pursue a romantic relationship with Jimin.

- Jimin’s parents even though it was better if you were just separated.

- But Jimin can’t let the only person who ever made his heart a home go. So he decides, that if you can handle it then he can handle being just your friend. having you in his life as that was better than not having you at all.

- Omegas needed to stick together after all- you never knew when an alpha would come into rut around them, or if they’d need guarding on their heats.

- Your parents relax infinitesimally in your last year of high school.

- You and Jimin don’t hold hands anymore, and the side of your bed that used to be his remains empty.

- You don’t talk about how you used to kiss him underneath the maple tree in your backyard. And you don’t tell him how much you miss the way his arms would fit around your body, perfect- like they were made for you.

- After some time apart, while he pretends that his feelings for you are purely platonic, he convinces himself that you really do only love him as a friend, that the first 10 years of your friendship where just that- friendship.

- The thought that you feel nothing more than that for him helps steady him in his weaker moments when all he wants to do is kiss you or touch you.

- The two of you move to Seoul to go to the same college where he majors in teaching and dance, and you major in languages to become a translator.

- Things get better- almost easier when you’re not under the eyes of your parents.

- You spend your evenings tossing grapes into each other’s mouths across the kitchen of your shitty and tiny box of an apartment.

- you cook dinner together after classes, lounging on the couch a little too close, snuggling a little too tightly on Saturday mornings.

- You touch Jimin casually more and don’t have to worry about who might be watching.

- He pretends it’s just platonic and shoves down his feelings when he brings you your favorite coffee during all-nighters.

- And you pretend it’s just platonic when you buy him flowers and go to watch his performances.

- And when you start to see other people, when he meets an adorable beta by the name of Taemin and you start seeing a handsome alpha by the name of Jackson you make yourself smile and try to enjoy Taemin’s company. And Jimin invites Jackson over even when he really, really doesn’t like him.

- The two of them and their giant personalities make your tiny apartment feel even smaller.

- You pretend it doesn’t hurt when you hear Taemin making Jimin laugh- the way that you used to. or get jealous when Jimin makes Taemin dance with him in your kitchen, the way he used to make you dance with him.

- And he lets his cold pillow swallow the few tears that leak out when he hears Jackson helping you through your heat for the 3rd night in a row, your moans and Oh god yes’s leaking through the thin walls like oil.

- Omegas are sensitive after all. Especially when it comes to people that they love.

- Every touch from Taemin starts to feel wrong, so wrong it makes Jimin’s skin burn. So Jimin breaks up with Taemin the next chance he gets and tries to move on with his life without being stuck on you so bad.

- He goes out more, spends more time at the school’s crappy dance studio- especially when he knows Jackson is going to be over. And tries to move on with his life.

- He goes to a competition one weekend with his class to see a classical ballet rendition of Don Quixote, and in his hotel bar, his eyes lock with a man across the room.

- He’s smiling and his mouth is heart-shaped, and when he walks over to Jimin and asks if he can buy him a drink, Jimin catches a whiff of his alpha scent, the smell of amber and peppermint that draws him in immediately.

- He calls himself Hoseok, Jung Hoseok, the name that rolls off of Jimin’s tongue in a way that makes him sigh already, especially when Jimin catches a view of his ass.

- Jimin falls a little further into him when he finds out that it’s Hoseok’s dance company that is putting on the traveling production, and that Hoseok’s the Ceo of it too boot.

- What makes it worse is the fact that he is a total gentleman, walking jimin to his hotel room when he has one too many mixed drinks. Gently taking off his shoes, ignoring Jimin’s wandering hands and tucking Jimin in. leaving the hotel room and shutting the door behind him.

- Hoseok tells himself that it’s just his alpha instinct, alpha’s naturally wanted to take care of omegas. And for Hoseok, who was an alpha that had more contact with other alpha’s than anything else- he thought that maybe it was just his genetics were getting impatient.

- In the end, all that’s left of him in Jimin’s memory is a gorgeous laugh and the scent of Hoseok that lingers in the hotel room. It’s strong enough for jimin to let out a tiny moan the next morning.

- He thinks that all that’s left- but then a day later he finds the note shoved into his jacket pocket- and it’s not a number but an address for a building in Seoul,

- Come by and see my studio some time- JHS

- The class trip ends and Jimin goes back to your apartment and finds you- immediately feeling guilty,

- It doesn’t matter that you’re with Jackson it still feels like betraying you. Because for the first time- Jimin has really felt something with someone who’s not you, what he felt like the night before was 1000 times more exciting and captivating as what he felt with Taemin.

- Hoseok’s modern studio takes up the lower 3 floors of a skyscraper in the student district of Seoul. Its windows on the two upper floors are tinted to make it harder for people to watch the practices but at night you can see clearly into them.

- Jimin shows up just as a ballet class is letting out, the 5 and 6 years meandering around the college student with a gym bag tossed over his shoulder. The instructor eyes him suspiciously, she’s a foreigner that’s for sure, and the beta’s tutu is flat and black. And makes her look menacing like a bird.

- He mutters out Hoseok’s name- hoping she understands Korean and wonders why the hell he decided to stop by after class when it seems like Hoseok wasn’t expecting him at all.

- “Oh! You’re here for hope- he’s in his private studio if you’ll just follow me” Hoseok’s private studio isn’t big- but what It lacks for in size it makes up for in the view- a perfect view of the street and the buildings that line it.

- It’s gorgeous, just like the man that sweats and pulsates to the rhythm of the music popping his body in the most fluid movements that Jimin’s ever seen.

- But then Jimin notices how reluctant Hoseok is to move his left leg. Like its still healing from something, Hoseok notices their entrance into the room through the mirror but finishes his dance,

- His smile is starlit as he bids hello to Jimin and walks over to him after grabbing a towel to clean his face of sweat.

- Hoseok gives him a short tour of his studio watching Jimin’s reaction to the nice studio spaces and the modern facilities.

- “I’ll admit my inviting you here wasn’t all fortuitous- you’ve been on my radar for a while.” Jimin’s cheeks pink when Hoseok confesses over a bottle of soju and some bibimbap for lunch.

- “Me? On your radar?” Hoseok laughs at Jimin’s perplexed expression. “I saw you dance at the winter showcase last semester- quite well I might add” Jimin fights the smile that stretches his mouth and curses himself for how flirty he was the other night.

- “You’re at the top of your class in one of the most foremost dance programs in the country Jimin- I wouldn’t be surprised if I was the only one who’d taken notice. Not to mention you’re absolutely adorable.” Hoseok adds with a wink, now Jimin really reddens and nearly chokes on the next bite of his food.

- Hoseok giggles good-naturedly, a little too pleased with himself that he managed to make the adorable blond omega so flustered so easily.

- Jimin listens to Hoseok’s story, of his history performing, his injury, and after that, his forays into choreography and his eventual starting of his own studio after he reached a settlement with the company that had caused his knee injury.

- The studio had started as just a place for Hoseok to try and get back on his feet and go back into competitive dancing- but he had realized his passion for teaching when his friends started asking for pointers.

- He started with 2 classes a week, and in the last 4 years, it had snowballed into a flourishing business that nearly ran it’s self, and was poised to become a legitimate dance academy.

- Jimin praises him briefly for his good business skills but Hoseok just laughs and humbly admits that he was likely just in the right place in the right time.

- “The studio is growing exponentially, but before I manage to turn it into an academy I need to remedy a certain issue that I hope you can help with. We have a ballet instructor from the Russian ballet academy, who you met briefly, and a few instructors that specialize in hip-hop and jazz, and I’m trying to get a work visa for a Latin dance aficionado from Peru, but We don’t have anyone who specializes with interpretive dance at the studio.”

- Oh, Jimin’s heart drops infinitesimally, so this was just a business meeting. Now Jimin understands.

- “I’m sorry Hoseok, I love the business your running but it’s always been my dream to perform” Hoseok nods, “That’s to be expected, let me rephrase it then.” he takes a sip of his beer. “I want to offer you a job to help start my program with me with the promise that you’ll be able to pass it off temporarily, when you need to perform, be hired for performances by other companies, travel, and use the space for practice when it’s not being inhabited by 4th graders.”

- Jimin smiles at this, and even he has to admit- the offer is good, excellent even “you really want me to work for you don’t you.” Hoseok smiles kindly, “I think it’s safe to say that I do.”

- “I understand that this is a lot what do you have? Three weeks left until graduation?”

- “2 till finals and then a week of exams yeah,” jimin says.

- “Work for me for the summer, see if you like it and if you don’t get a better offer- work for me.”

- He tries not to be a little disappointed as the possibility of him and Hoseok, and the little flirtation that he had with the alpha goes out the window. Because Park Jimin will not be the omega that sleeps with his boss no matter what his drunken brain might have wanted in the moments before he fell asleep.

- When Jimin comes home he finds You sitting against your counter sucking on cookie batter while your boyfriend whips cream, shirtless his thick arms bulging.

- Jimin can see the hickeys from your mouth that pepper Jacksons chest and he tries to quell the jealousy in his chest. He freezes when he see’s a hickey on your neck- so close to where a mating bite should be.

- You told Jimin everything, you always tell Jimin everything- and he was surprised and more than a little hurt that you hadn’t told him you were thinking about letting Jackson mate you.

- If he felt like he could leave hickeys on you there then your relationship must have progressed farther than Jimin realized. Last he had heard you said you wanted to live with your mate for at least a year before you let them mark you.

- Mating marks where sacred and a careful art in the world, something that a lot of people either took too seriously or not enough. It was stronger than a marriage bond; almost something of a soulmate bond. Your mate could tell when your body was in distress. People’s scents even changed when they got the mating bite.

- Jimin didn’t want to imagine your warm vanilla smell overpowered by Jackson’s deep sandalwood. He didn’t want you to mate with him.

- You scream in joy and jump off the counter into Jimin’s arms when he tells you the news getting flour all over his front but Jimin doesn't care at all. Jackson wishes him congratulations. But grumbles when the two of you make plans to go out for a celebratory ice cream at your favorite place across town.

- With your arms locked with Jimin’s, you try to ignore your boyfriend who’s trying to literally pull you out of Jimin’s arms. Glareing at your clasped arms.

- Jackson was always trying to do that, always trying to keep you all to himself. he was possessive as he was attractive. He wanted you stay over most nights and was practically trying to move your things into his apartment himself.

- But you were reluctant to leave Jimin alone in your apartment- you knew that he likely couldn’t afford the rent himself, but despite the fact that now that seemed likely to change with his new job you were still unwilling to move.

- Jackson tried to pressure you about moving in and had even left a fucking hickey on your neck of all places, too close to where you could get a mating bite. It was something you had told him time and time again that you where uncomfortable with and he never listened. And it had eventually lead to yet another argument.

- Jackson wasn’t even happy for you when you got a job as a translator for a video streaming company, telling you that he’d rather you find a job that wouldn’t keep you up so late- he wanted to be able to come home to his omega at the end of the work day.

- Snarky comments lead to disagreements, and disagreements led to arguments and arguments only lead to one thing with you and Jackson

- Sex was your common ground, you knew how definat and stubborn you where made him crazy, and not always in the good way but more often than not jackson loved putting you in your place, tying your hands togeather and reducing you to incoherent wimpers with the slow pull of his hips. he loved to draw it out and make you beg.

- You found yourself seeking out Jackson not because you loved him- it was bad, a bad practice, but every time he said it to you; you said it back.

- You would seek out Jackson every time Jimin came out of the shower shirtless or stood a little too close, or brushed your lower back in the wrong way.

- Because time hadn’t dulled the way you felt about Jimin at all, if anythign the closeness haad made you want him in keener hungrier ways, though you still wanted him to be happy more than anything elce.

- And you knew it, Knew in the depths of your soul that there was no way he could feel the same about you. You were his person, his bestfriend since forever and what was the point in risking that?

- So you tell Jackson you love him even when you don’t mean it because loving him physically made it easier to love Jimin from far away.

- Jimin is surprised how much he enjoys working at the studio- and when he gets his first paycheck he almost balks because Hoseok is paying him way too much, at this rate, he’ll have his student loans paid off in barely a year!

- He teaches 2 adult classes, 4 intermediate level classes, and 3 classes for elementary school students during the after school hours. Though sometimes adults end up in the child classes- the program that he, Hoseok, and Iskra (the Russian ballerina) designed on a Saturday morning is really it’s all based on skill level.

- He loves watching the 7-year-olds dramatically tip back their heads to Sam Smiths song- stay with me, almost more than he likes correcting the 20-year-olds on foot positions.

- The adults are often too tense to make the easiest of moves look fluid, unlike the children who might move clumsily but, with a freedom that Jimin has spent years trying to replicate.

- Jimin loves working with hoseok as well, Jimin picks up on how his system works faster than anyone elce before him, and they even strike up a bit of a friendship. Hoseok gushes about the drama of his privite clients- idols and such that are both a pain and incredibly lucritive to teach, and Jimin talks about his college days, and you. though Jimin tries not to mention you every time he gets a chance.

- Hoseok even see’s you one day, waiting outside the studio for Jimin to come out. and he watches longinly as Jimin slings a casual arm around your shoulder. and finds the misplaced envy puzling.

- Hoseok even starts to look forward to seeing Jimin at work, more than he should, he loves the quiet carefulness that Jimin helps he child classes and the way he slings his feed over the benches in the back as he sreaches his lithe body out before he starts.

- Jimin decides he likes teaching- loves it even. And other times he hates it.

- Especially when he’s teaching the adult class; alpha’s don’t like listening to omega’s, they’d much rather hit on them instead.

- “You need to adjust your front leg hyung.” Jimin says looking at the alpha in front of him. The class is mostly alpha’s today, though there are nearly just as many betas.

- Jimin’s soft hands adjust an alpha’s leg carefully, and from the bent, over position, Jimin feels the alphas fingers brush against his ass. Jimin flinches back and gives a shaky smile- worried about calling the alpha out in front of the whole class.

- The untoward behavior continues next class and the class after that. When he tells you about it you get so mad that he has to ban you from signing up for the class. Almost vibrating with anger as Jimin smiles inwardly, glad you care enough to be worried.

- A brush of fingers against his neck, on his side- even once on his front. Hoseok stops in on one of those days and sees Jimin flinch back. his mood darknes when he realizes whats going on his temper flares when he see’s jimin to scared to do anything about the harassment. Before he has a moment to interveen someone calls him away into another room- he himself has a class going at the moment.

- The alpha in question lingers behind after class, “you need help with your heat? I can tell that you’re close.” He says with a sickly sweet smile when all other patrons have cleared out of the room.

- Jimin respectfully declines, worried about disrespecting the patron and making to duck out before the alpha blocks his way and repeats the question in much the same fashion.

- Jimin is just starting to feel unsafe enough to make his pulse jump when the alpha shoves him, luckily, that is when Hoseok opens the door.

- “What’s going on in here.” his voice booms

- “I-I was just-“ the man stutters,

- “Harassing one of my employees?” Jimin nods and subconsciously moves closer to Hoseok.

- “Come on, can’t you smell how close he is to his heat? can you really blame me for soliciting an unmated omega? I was just trying to help,” Hoseok’s eyes flash darker when he realizes that yes, Jimin is close to his heat, but it only makes him angrier. “Unmated alpha’s need to satisfy their urges, it’s only natural for me-“

- Hoseok chuckles darkly and tugs at the color of his shirt, showing the man the fact that Hoseok is unmarked too, “do you see me harassing anyone? No? That’s what I thought.” His tone is biting and threatening, All propriety and politeness gone. “You’re banned from this studio from now until it closes, and if I catch you hanging around outside waiting for Jimin I won't hesitate to involve the police.”

- Hoseok grabs Jimin’s hand and tugs him out of the practice room and into the break room at the back, a smaller and odd shaped practice room that they’d repurposed with cubbies and a fridge.

- “Are you ok?” Hoseok asks, as Jimin exhales a sigh and shakily starts to put on his street clothes. “Thank you hyung, for sticking up for me.” Jimin says shyly.

- “Don’t thank me for treating you with the bare bones of respect.”

- Jimin smiles sadly, “I’m an omega, I’m used to It.” he tucks dance shirt into his bag, pulling on a black sweatshirt over his dancing shorts.

- And I hate that you are, Hoseok thinks but doesn’t say, instead of packing up his own bag and tugging on his jacket, before declaring, “I’m walking you home.” Jimin doesn’t argue.

- They make most of the walk silent, and Jimin is happy not to be leered at for once on his way home passed bars and clubs so late at night. With hoseok by his side Jimin feels safe, the way that only you do.

- “Sorry for being a bother hyung, I know that a lot of people don’t hire omega’s because of the trouble we cause- but thank you for taking a chance on me.” He says when they reach the front door of your apartment.

- If Hoseok is judging Jimin based on the location where he lives he doesn’t show it. Though Jimin finds himself suddenly abashed at how rusty the front door that opens up onto your steps is and the fact that his apartment is located on the bad side of town.

- “Jimin,” Hoseok says, tilting his face up to meet his with a careful and warm finger, it’s not often that anyone besides you touches Jimin so casually and it makes his cheeks redden. “never think you’re a bother, you don’t deserve that kind of treatment, no omega does.”

- Jimin pouts a little turning his head out of hoseok’s hands. “You probably think we omegas need to be coddled and protected,”

- “Not at all!” Hoseok says, a little indignant. Hoseok looks for the right words “my… significant other put it in a good way the other day,” Jimin’s shocked- because he’s never heard of Hoseok being attached to anyone before, never seen a beta or an omega stop by at Hoseok’s studio. and he dosent have a mating mark either. He’s never even mentioned having someone to love in his life. Not like Jimin, who practically mentions you every moment he gets.

- “Everyone should learn to stand on their own two feet, regardless of if they’re an alpha beta or an omega, A person shouldn’t need to be protected or coddled, they just need a space that’s safe enough to reach their full potential. And a pair of arms to catch them when they feel like falling, And that can be in anyone’s arms-”

- Hoseok’s eyes flash up to meet Jimin’s, and he adds even quieter, “whether those be in an alpha, beta, or even omega for you I hope you have it.” Jimin flushes and looks away, your face flashing in his mind. Hoseok was right- that was what love was suposed to be like. That was always what love felt like when he was with you and Hoseok had caught jimin tonight.

- “I’m not- attached to anyone right now.” Jimin lies because he is very very very attached to you and he knows it.

- “You have a…” Jimin searches for the right word. “Modern way of viewing it.” Hoseok laughs, says goodnight to Jimin and disappears in the opposite direction of where they came. Jimin wonders where Hoseok lives, and if his significant other is waiting for him.

- You have no idea how modern it is Jiminie Hoseok thinks when he finally catches sight of his two Alpha boyfriends. Namjoon brushes the hair off of Hoseok’s forehead and leans down to kiss him as Yoongi grabs his hand, his thumb running back and forth across his knuckles. “How was your day sunshine?” Namjoon asks.

- “Enough with the pet names hyung you’re going to make me gag,” Yoongi says, surprisingly awake for it being so late at night. Hoseok Tisks inwardly, he must have had coffee, and now he won’t sleep for the whole night. Namjoon and Hoseok had been getting on him about having more regular sleeping habits recently.

- “I thought you liked it when I called you baby though Yoongs?” Namjoon says with a small smirk, leaning over to wrap run a large hand through his hair. they all both laugh when Yoongi flushes.

- But the corners of his mouth turn up at the edge. And Hoseok feels the tension inside his body relax slightly. Around the two of them he can never find it in himself to feel tense.

- They bring out the best in him; every bit of happiness and joy comes up unfiltered by anxiety. Hoseok knows he’s lucky, so lucky too have two people love him. Thoughts about Jimin plague him though; plague him enough that he confides in Namjoon and Yoongi late that night.

- “You did the right thing” Namjoon says while yoongi plants a kiss on Hoseok’s bare shoulder. “Would it be wrong if I felt like I wanted to protect him?” “There’s nothing wrong with that at all” Yoongi grumbles his- eyes already closed.

- That night you curl up with Jimin on your chest while you lie on your threadbare couch - a romcom humming in the background. Jimin always marvels at the fact that he feels absolutely 100% safe in your arms, your fingers card lazily through his fair hair, as he slowly falls asleep listening to the sound of your heartbeat.

- But when Hoseok looks at him, Jimin feels almost just as safe.

→ PART 2: LOST IN LOVE MAZE →

A/N: So the good news is that I’ll be posting this FIc extremely often because 70% of it is already written. There’s noting really angsty in this fic, but be warned- this is the angstiest shit I’ve ever written and that’s saying something!

♡♡♡ Hope you enjoyed it ♡♡♡~ M

1K notes · View notes

aardvark-123 · 6 years

Text

Gensokyo Festival Day 9: Eiki Shiki’s Personalised Guide to Self-Improvement

Too busy for an endless string of spell-card duels, our beloved yama has decided to put some of her wisdom into writing. I suggest you read it closely; even if you aren’t the person each section is targeting, you could learn something useful.

...No, she’s not standing over me with “Disrespecting a divine being” written on her Rod of Remorse. Why do you ask?

Reimu:

Stop pestering people for donations. A polite request is acceptable, but prolonged begging is obnoxious and discomforting.

Remember to ask questions before shooting. You are the natural rival of youkai, it is true, but that is no excuse to bully them without reason. With humans and other beings, take extra care that you do not attack them unless you truly must, since they can be more fragile than youkai.

On the other hand, try to avoid forming close friendships with youkai. Remember that you are a shrine maiden, not an aspiring jinyou.

Good work with that fortune teller, by the way.

Most importantly, please at least try to commune with the gods on a daily basis, and keep looking after the one who resides in your shrine. I will not hide the truth from you: If a high-ranking god is sufficiently fond of you, they might order me to allow you into Heaven or place you in their service as a Celestial. That is an unreliable and manipulative strategy, however, so I do not recommend it.

Marisa:

Stop lying. You lie so much that it has become a habit, your automatic first line of defence in almost any situation. Deception will ultimately do nothing but drive your friends away and destroy your reputation.

Stop stealing as well. Patchouli's books are her own, and nobody is going to take your claims of 'long-term borrowing' seriously. Give her back her books.

You must try to think about how your actions affect other people. The world does not resolve around you, and all the people you have burgled, assaulted, lied to, humiliated and sexually exploited deserved better. They are living people, not just your playthings.

Look, just... Just try harder, will you?

Sakuya:

Try to be a better friend to your fellow humans. Although far from ideal, the witch and the two shrine-maidens are decent people who have at least a vague fondness for you. Politeness costs nothing and can always brighten somebody's day.

Put some thought into your future. Although your power over time is impressive, it will not save you from the ultimate fate of all things. You can save yourself from a long sentence in Hell, but only if you are willing to apply yourself.

Try to become a positive influence on your employer. Remilia's sins are almost beyond measure, and even the many millenia she could live will barely be enough time for her to redeem herself.

Youmu:

Avoid spending too much time in the Land of the Dead.

At least try to take your role in life seriously. Your nature as a half-phantom is a gift, but it can very easily become a curse if you do not strive to balance the life and death inside you. Use the powers of your swords sparingly, your own power even sparinglier more carefully, and heed the wisdom of your mistress.

(I will ask her to make her advice easier to understand.)

Perhaps most importantly, have some faith in yourself. You are not perfect, but nobody is. You are a strong warrior and a talented gardener capable of great things. Do not lose yourself in a mire of self-doubt.

Reisen:

Apart from one large sin, you have lived a largely wholesome life, so keep it up. Be dutiful in your work. Be kind to your friends and colleagues, stand by them in times of hardship and war, and make the time to relax and have fun with them.

While carrots may be incredibly delicious to a rabbit, you must not allow yourself to become dependent. Carrot addiction has destroyed lives before, and no matter how certain you are that you can handle it, you probably cannot. Try to limit yourself to two carrots a day.

I probably do not need to remind you, but in the interest of thoroughness I shall. Do not desert a second time.

Cirno:

You would do well to learn some humility. Powerful you are, but there are many beings greater than you, and even a weaker fairy or youkai could defeat you with skill, determination and a small helping of good fortune. Do not let your strength become an obsession. In the end, what matter are the deeds you do, the friendships you make and the marks you leave on the world.

It is not a sin for a fairy to become a youkai, but I urge you to have caution. As a youkai, you will have a duty to scare humans, but you will also be able to die at their hands (and the hands of others). You must be willing to accept your own vulnerability and your need to cooperate with others, or else your career as a youkai will be brief.

If you remain a fairy, stop picking fights with everybody.

The Prismriver Sisters:

This is absolutely crucial: BELIEVE IN YOURSELVES. Each of you must find yourself a purpose for existing and then live out that purpose with all of your heart. Make that purpose a part of the very core of your being and become She who "Insert Purpose Here". Um, so to speak.

(Mainly for Merlin) In general, please try to act with kindness and dignity each day of your life. Being a good person costs nothing.

Mystia:

Concentrate on your surroundings and be mindful of other people. With the power you possess, it is vital that you avoid singing unless you know nobody will be harmed.

Your friend Kyouko is a practicing Budhhist, so please do not expose her to meat, alcohol, foul language and glorified violence. If you lead an innocent soul to Hell, you will almost certainly find yourself suffering alongside her.

Try to offer a range of vegetarian food in addition to lamprey. While you are unlikely to be punished for selling only fish-based meals, it would be courteous to allow your customers a choice.

Tewi:

Your attitude urgently needs to improve. Whether you admit it or not, you are a devious little madam who delights in causing chaos and misery. Your actions once led Reisen to contemplate suicide. If you cannot accept the consequences of your behaviour in this world, the consequences will most definitely be done to you in the next, and nobody will skimp on the lemon juice when they prepare your cactus bed after your week-long shift in the salt mines. So, seriously, put an end to the "harmless" pranks and start helping your fellows.

Also, flattering those who have authority over you will only make things worse.

Aya:

As a journalist, you have two of the greatest and most terrible powers of all: The power to create history and to manipulate the truth. It is best if you use the former only to tell the truth and never use the latter at all. Lying is not harmless fun, it is a terrible sin.

Try to exercise restraint while you investigate things. I have watched you win spell-card duels without once looking up from your notepad, and you are bound to cause a catastrophic accident sooner or later.

Frighten more humans as well.

Medicine:

You must let go of hatred and learn to embrace those around you. (Although, hopefully, not literally.) Your heart has been closed for too long. There are many good people in the world, many kind-hearted children who truly adore their dolls even if they do not recognise their personhood. Do not begrudge humans for what is in their nature. I, too, am trying to change that, and I know that anger will accomplish little.

Consider getting to know some of the stronger youkai and those immune to your poison. Do not approach them with fear or aggression and do not mask your true personality; instead, let them see the true Medicine Melancholy within. You will find that most strangers are merely friends who have not yet made you.

Yuuka:

Your pride and anger are both far too great. To the humans, you are almost a goddess of destruction; to the youkai, you are the foul-tempered older sister whom nobody really likes. The only true friend you have is the firefly youkai who pollinates your sunflowers. No matter how powerful you are, attacking everyone in your path is an act of pure evil which cannot easily be forgiven.

Remember that, no matter how much fun you may be having right now, violence and cruelty are never worth it. If you bring suffering to innocent people, you will suffer far worse treatment in time.

Also, contrary to your belief, I am not your rival. The only rival I have is sin itself.

Please, PLEASE do not try to become an embodiment of purest sin just so you can call yourself my rival.

Komachi:

Stop sleeping when there are departed souls in need of transportation. As inconvenient as it may be for you, people can die at any moment, and as a ferrywoman you must be ready to take to the water at any moment. The fate of the world rests on our actions, and there will be terrible consequences for every being if you do not pull your weight.

Laziness is a sin, and I will not let my inexplicable fondness for you stand in the way of an accurate judgement. Even you will die eventually, Komachi, and I have borne witness to many sins on your part. Just something to bear in mind when you go drinking tonight.

Speaking of which, there are many herbal teas for sale in the Human Village which will help you sleep soundly. Have you tried sleeping at night rather than through the afternoon, Komachi? Research has shown that diurnal shinigami are among the happiest and most productive.

Lies and flattery are not the way of an honourable shinigami; they are the way of a sinner. If you are to speak to me with respect (which I would strongly encourage), do it all the time, not only when you wish to curry favour. Lies and excuses will only make you look bad and erode my already-minimal trust in you.

A healthy, balanced diet is also important. Your great strength and stamina will not last if you continue to gorge yourself on beer and tempura, to say nothing of the marshmallows which you so endlessly devour.

I only have a large, warm chocolate pudding with a delicious molten centre every OTHER day, so please do not embarrass yourself by trying to shame me.

I have also seen you picking your nose. Do not try to deny it, you will only insult my intelligence and make yourself more likely to receive a harsh sentence when you die. It is disgusting and unhygenic. STOP IT.

Your love of erotic manga is more forgiveable, but I will confiscate any such volumes I find about your person while you are on duty. At least try to be professional.

One last thing, Komachi: When you are next in the Human Village, could you pick up some more parchment and a small barrel of rice? We seem to be running short. Tell them to charge it to the Ministry as usual.

#gensokyofestival #eiki shiki #touhou #listicle #please don't hit me lady eiki

56 notes · View notes

stepphase · 3 years

Photo

7 Useful Ways to Earn Money From Home for Housewives

Introduction

Who does not wants to earn money? Today, it would be a boon if you are an earning woman in the fast-moving inflationary world, helping your family move forward while working part-time from home.

It not only makes them financially independent, boosts their confidence and morale but empowered them in this patriarchal society.

Thanks to technological development and especially the internet. Due to the internet and smartphones and laptops door to door, working from home becomes more comfortable than ever. Now any housewife can earn from home on their own if they possess little internet literacy.

Even if they are willing to work online, there are several other works they can do. All they now need is just the right guidance on how to earn money from home?

Don’t worry.

I am here to help you out.

7 Real Ways to Earn Money From Home for Housewives:

Are you looking for some genuine and real ways to earn money from home for housewives?

Kudos to you. You are here on the best page on the internet. We will be dealing here 7 real ways to earn money from home for housewives.

Online or Offline tuition:

If you love to teach students, you can teach them at your home or online. While you are teaching your kids, you can utilize this opportunity to teach your neighbors, kids, along with them. By doing so, you are utilizing your education for the welfare of society at large as well as earning income for yourselves.

If you are not well educated and do not want to do academic teaching, you can teach whatever skill you have. For example, you can teach singing, dancing, cooking, baking, sewing, or any other art.

What would be better than the following passion while earning money that too from home itself? Nothing, I think.

You can offer private lessons or open a coaching class.

Data Entry Operator Job:

Data Entry jobs are one of the most accessible and most suitable jobs for housewives. It does not require any exceptional acumen, knowledge, or degree. Only it needs typing skills. Anyone can be proficient in typing within a month.

Housewives can earn better without making any investment. In order to get initial work, you can make your DEO id on freelancing websites like fiver, freelancer, or Upwork. The main concern of the data entry job is scamming.

So always use an authentic platform to work with and use your instinct while dealing with the client.

Sell products online:

You can start selling products online through various e-commerce websites or your own portal. It has immense potential. If you love to do business or possess a business degree, this will be perfect for you.

You can tie-up with some self-help group organizations and sell their products for commissions.

Even better, you can sell your own product online. Products may be any handicraft, paintings, handmade jewelry, or any decorative artwork.

Even if you are not in the situation to make your own product or tie-up with any organization, don’t worry. You can try affiliate marketing.

This will open you the door of opportunity to earn as much as you can. In affiliate marketing, you are selling someone’s product or amazon’s product through your web articles. You will be earning a commission on each sale.

Therefore, you do not have to move out to your home; you just need a desktop and internet connectivity, that is all.

Babysitting:

As per the recent study from renowned organizations, babysitting and mid-housewives will be the most demanding profession in the upcoming decade.

Ironically, in the fast-moving metro cities, people have money to spend on their children, but they do not have time. You can encash this opportunity.

You can find many parents around you who, by choice or any personal constraint, working outside their home and not able to take care of their kids. That is why they prefer to hire a baby sitter or enroll their children in a daycare center.

So, open a babysitting center at your home and take care of some kids.

Freelancing:

You can do freelancing and earn big money while working with your passion. The term freelancing means you will be working independently without being an employee of any organization.

You just need to contact your client who can avail you work to do, and complete their work independently.

There is no salary bar in freelancing. You can earn as much you get the work that too on your own negotiated rate.

You can do various works as a freelancer, for example, content writing, data entry, book editing, movie making, or creating any digital products. Moreover, in this era of the internet, it has become effortless to get clients via social media or freelancing websites.

Website list

Fiverr - Freelance Services Marketplace for Businesses

Find & apply for freelance jobs on Upwork - the world's largest...

Hire Freelancers & Find Freelance Jobs Online | Freelancer

Set up micro-enterprise(Home industry)

Setting up a micro or small enterprise will be best for a housewife. It will not only generate income for you, but you can also create employment for other housewives.

The home industry can give you immense profit, depending upon how you are operating it.

You just need to have little business acumen and managerial skills with patience. You can start tiffin service, laundry, knitting, weaving, homemade pickles, papad, and candle industry. In addition to these, you can open a parlor, spa center, or nursery depending upon your hobby and passion.

Blogging:

Last but not least, the trendiest blogging. It is nothing but just a digital book for you, where you can showcase ideas, innovations, etc.

Blogging has also become very popular now a day. If you are a good writer and have creative writing skills, you should start blogging right now.

To utilize its immense potential, start early because early birds always used to have an advantage. This is true with blogging also. As old as your blog will be, you can get better ranking and google ads price.

Frequently asked questions:

How to start freelancing?

In order to start freelancing, you need to acquire some demanding contemporary skills then start looking for the client.

In the beginning, You can take help some of the freelancing websites for reaching the clients. Once you have some experience and exceptional insight, your client will reach you by themselves.

What are the pre-requisites for working from home?

Since you are working from home, you must have your active bank account and UPI ID so that you can take payment after completion of work.

If you are working online, ensure an uninterrupted power supply, internet connectivity, and a personal computer.

How to avoid scams?

Be aware of scammers. Since you are working from home, you might not know every client personally.

So, use your instinct and avoid working with potential scammers. Always make conversations on non-ommitable platforms like emails and research about their company. Try to keep proof of the delivery of products and services.

Conclusion:

Indian women have always been aspirational. But due to their family obligations and after childbirth working outside becomes difficult. Still, they leave no stone unturned when it comes to their responsibility towards their family.

To fulfill their own dreams and ambitions, they always use to look forward to earning from home.

I hope this article will help them out in their Stepphase.

Best wishes to all housewives.