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newtthetranswriter · 1 year ago

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Could I get uhhh a motherfuckin uhhhh Choso x reader?? Maybe she’s one of Yuji’s friends that he introduces him to 👀 or maybe she even packs him up in a fight 👀 idk anything is better than this 😭

Paring: Choso x reader kinda

Word count:2180

Summary: Yuji introduces you to Choso and they explain how they are brothers, also teaching Choso how to use a phone cause he’s like 150 years old and probably worse with technology then captain america.

Warnings: some manga spoilers regarding Yuji and Choso obviously, shit writing, that’s about it.

A/n: The Shibuya incident did happen but ended better. It’s not as long as I wanted but I slept for nearly 20 hrs yesterday and totally forgot where I was going to take it and figured this is better than nothing. If you like it and want more, I could maybe do a part two. Let me know how you like it. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

I’m going to meet up with Yuji at a coffee shop because he insisted he had someone he wanted me to meet. I don’t know why he didn’t just bring this someone to jujutsu tech, but whatever. I’ve been really close with Yuji since he joined Jujutsu tech, it never really bothered me that he was the vessel of Sukana. Yuji was just really easy to get along with so whoever he wants me to meet can’t be that bad.

When I finally reached the predetermined coffee shop I spotted Yuji sitting with a guy wearing white and purple. His hair was up in what looked like two pony tails, although it still stuck up in every direction. I couldn’t see his face because his back was to me, but I could tell by the way he was sitting he was average height and rather lean.

I was snapped out of my thoughts looking at the stranger by Yuji jumping up and calling out to me. “Y/n, over here. I already got you a F/d.” I smiled and made my way over sitting down next to my friend with two toned hair.

“Thank you Yuji. Now introduce me to your friend here.” I said finally looking at the face of the stranger. He had dark purple eyes that were focused on something outside the window, they were truly beautiful. But the most striking thing about his handsome appearance was the mark stretching across the bridge of his nose. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

Yuji set his own coffee down before introducing the handsome man across from me. “Y/n this is Choso, Choso this Y/n. He is technically my half brother.” Yuji said as if he hadn’t dropped a bomb on me. I was really confused, since when did Yuji have a brother, I thought he was an only child.

I finally looked away from the man sitting across from me, to give Yuji a bewildered look. “What do you mean he’s ‘technically’ your half brother. In the half a year I have known you, you have never said anything about having a half brother.” I was really trying to wrap my head around this. Yuji Itadori had a half brother who just so happened to be extremely attractive.

“Well, I only just found out he’s my brother recently. But hey it’s good news, I have more family.” Yuji said happy that he still has family out there. I was still confused as I slowly took a sip of the drink Yuji had bought for me.

It was silent for a moment before a new voice spoke up. “He’s right, I had no idea he was my little brother until I almost killed him during the Shibuya incident. I felt a connection exactly like the one I felt when he killed my brothers a few months prior. That’s the only thing that saved him.” Ok, now I'm even more confused. This guy tried to kill Yuji because Yuji killed his brothers, but ultimately didn’t because he felt a connection to him before he could actually do it.

Sensing my confusion Yuji started to stand up saying “We should have just done this at Jujutsu Tech, It’s hard to explain and I don’t want someone thinking we’re crazy.” Me and Choso nodded in agreement before we stood up and left the coffee shop.

“If you knew this was going to be confusing, why did you want to do it at a coffee shop full of non-sorcerers?” I asked as we walked back to the school in almost complete science.

Yuji just shrugged. I guess he probably wasn’t thinking about that at the time, he did ask me relatively early in the morning so he was probably just thinking of getting some good caffeine instead of the fact that this conversation was going to be weird and hard to process.

After about thirty minutes of walking we made it to the school. “Let’s go sit by the training field, no-one's going to be over there right now.” I suggested leading the way there.

When we arrived at the field I sat down in the grass watching as the two boys sat across from me, before Yuji started an attempt at explaining everything to me. “So back in September me, Fushiguro, and Kugisaki were sent to investigate a curse that was taking people from this bridge in a small town. When we got there Fushiguro figured out the curse spirit was under the bridge, and had one of Sukana’s fingers. We had gone down to fight the curse in hopes of getting the finger but in the middle of the fight, what we assumed were just two more cursed spirits showed up and knocked me and Kugisaki out of the first curse’s domain. We then proceeded to fight the two with everything we had. After a lot of struggling we finally beat them. I didn’t know who they were at the time, I didn’t know they were Curse hybrids, they were just curses trying to hurt us and take Sukana’s finger.” He explained what happened at least with these two curse hybrids whatever that means. But I have no clue what that has to do with any of this.

I could see Choso looking almost angry as Yuji talked about what happened at the bridge. “Choso are you okay? Do you need anything?” I asked hoping there was something I could do to help.

“No, I’m fine. What my brother failed to mention was that those two hybrids were my brothers. I too am a curse hybrid made by Noritoshi Kamo, who experimented on my mother creating me and my brothers. I felt it when Yuji killed my little brothers and was furious. I decided to get revenge during the attack on Shibuya. I was close to killing him when I felt the same thing I had when my brothers had died. At that moment I knew Yuji was my half brother and decided I would fight alongside him to stop Noritoshi Kamo, who became the Cursed spirit Kenjaku.” Choso explained what happened during the attack on Shibuya.

I looked at the curse hybrid, still not understanding how that makes them brothers. Okay Choso felt a connection but how does that prove anything. “Okay so, other than this Kenjaku thing being your dad? How does it make Yuji your brother?” I asked, trying to get more information.

Choso rolled his eyes but still proceeded to tell me the rest. “Kenjaku has stayed alive for over a century by possessing different human corpses. It seems that at some point he had possessed the corpse of Yuji’s human mother, before having my little brother. Does that make sense?”

I nodded slowly grasping what was being said. So my best friend was the product of a curse possessing a corpse and having a kid, that’s honestly not the weirdest thing I’ve heard being a Jujutsu sorcerer. “That kind of makes sense but the two things I still don’t get, one if Kenjaku has been around for over a century, how old are you Choso? And why did Yuji want us to meet?” I said the last bit looking towards the young sorcerer.

“I’m over 150 years old, though for most of that I was a cursed object. Recently the curse Mahito gave me and my two brothers bodies, hoping we would help in Kenjaku’s plan.” Choso said, answering the question about his age. I suppose that makes sense, so I turned back to Yuji waiting for him to answer the question I had asked him.

He just blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought you guys would get along. I forgot that I would have to explain everything, and just wanted Choso to make some friends.” He leaned closer to me covering the side of his face before adding “He doesn't like to talk a lot. This is the most I've heard him talk to anyone other than me.”

I chuckled as Choso rolled his eyes at his younger brother. “I can hear you ya know.”

“It’s fine, I think it’s sweet that he’s trying to help you out. Anyway is there anything else I’m needed for, as Yuji, you interrupted my beauty sleep for this. While I truly enjoyed meeting you Choso and hearing your story I would like to get some more sleep.” I asked as I stood from the grass wiping off my pants.

Yuji looked up at me before responding. “You’re good to go, thanks for waking up early for this. Sorry for being dumb.” I smiled down at him before turning to Choso.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I enjoyed talking with you, maybe next time we can go for a coffee without pinky over here.” I said, jabbing a finger in Yuji’s direction, laughing at the confused ‘huh’ that left his mouth at the comment.

I watched as Choso blushed slightly trying to cover it by turning his face away from me. “Yeah, it was nice meeting you too, Y/n. And I would like that.”

Leaving with one final wave I couldn’t help but hope that my next meeting with the purple eyed sorcerer would happen sooner than later.

I woke up later that day from my nap and checked my phone. The first thing I saw was a text message from an unknown number.

From Unknown number: Hey, it's choso. My little brother forced me to get this thing and then gave me your number. I don’t know what i'm doing but apparently it’s like writing a letter but you get it right away. Anyway againthis is choso.

I laughed reading the message. Of course Yuji got him a phone and he doesn't understand how to use it. I quickly added his number to my phone before responding.

To Choso: Hi Choso, it was nice of Yuji to get you a phone. I’m guessing he didn’t explain it very well. If you want we can meet up later and I can help you figure it out.

After about five minutes I received a response.

From Choso: Please, I have no clue what I’m doing.

I smiled, glad that he accepted my offer and was also excited to talk to him without Yuji. I quickly sent a text asking him to meet me at the training field where we spoke earlier, before getting up to put on something other than the pajamas I had on for my nap.

I got to the field about fifteen minutes later and saw Choso sitting in the middle fiddling with something, probably his new phone. I walked up to him and sat down. “Hey, what all do you need help with?” I asked.

He jumped slightly not expecting me to be there, having been too focused on the electronic in his hands. “Oh, hi. Um, everything. I don’t get it, my little brother just gave me this, showed me how to type, and told me to text your number which he put in the phone. He didn’t explain anything about it other than that really.” He said with a slight blush, it was obvious he was embarrassed by his lack of knowledge when it came to technology.

I reached out my hand motioning for him to hand me the phone. When he finally placed it in my hand I leaned over and started showing him how to use it. I went over how to make phone calls, and add contacts. I also showed him how to work the camera and how to use google.

After about an hour of answering his questions about how to use the phone and make it work, we ended up just talking and getting to know each other. For one I learned that during his time as a cursed object he was self aware and able to master his cursed technique to a level beyond that of his distant relative who also wields Blood Manipulation. And I told him about growing up as the odd one who didn’t fit in because I could see cursed spirits while no one else around me could.

It was getting late and I decided it was probably time to call it a night. “Well it’s late, I should be getting to bed. I had fun talking with you. Maybe we can do it again sometime?” I said with a smile as I stood up from the grass.

He just looked up and nodded at me, before he started to get up as well. “Have a goodnight Y/n” he said before turning and walking away.

“Goodnight Choso, and don’t forget if you need help with anything feel free to ask me.” I called after him, heading back to my dorm. I couldn’t help but smile looking back on the events of the day. I really did enjoy hanging out with Choso, and I hope we can do it again soon. It sounds cheesy but I feel like we really have a connection.

#jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #choso x reader #jjk choso

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the-demon-of-a-thousand-eyes · 6 months ago

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𝒜 𝒮𝑜𝓃'𝓈 𝒟𝑒𝓋𝑜𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃: 𝒩𝑜𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝐵𝑒 𝒯𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓃 𝒮𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓁𝓎 (A TDoaTE and AMD Crossover smutfic)

Pairing: M!OC (Harry James, first born son of Carla James from A Mother's Devotion) x F!OC (Theia, The Demon of a Thousand Eyes)

Story Summary: In an AU for both AMD and TDoaTE, Theia would have arrived at the hotel on Rosie's behest, but instead of falling in love with her Alastor, a different Alastor, one with a far more sinister shadow, would reside at the hotel, and beside him, a perky, chipper, and seemingly young doe-like woman had decided to play house. She decided upon first glance that like all the wayward residents at the hotel, that Theia, too, needs a mother figure, and Theia, dealing with parental abandonment issues and running away from home along with a bounty of secrets, decides to indulge her want for this if nothing else than so she can have a mother who loves her. One day, Harry, her eldest son, along with four of his brothers, arrive at the hotel. He's terse, he's taciturn, and he's incredibly tall---nearly twice her height. Life continues, and she begins to notice him, tries to get to know him, but nothing works. He refuses to open up to her. Until out of nowhere, he starts getting furious and bitter when anyone approaches. Anyone and everyone, except, inexplicably, her.

Word Count: 8.2k Authors: @home-for-wayward-fawns and I co-wrote this, and you can find A Mother's Devotion on his blog, or up-to-date on AO3 here.

Warnings: Cannibalism, Tentacles, Biting, Blood, Obsessive Behavior, minor spoilers for TDoaTE

Pre-Story A/N from Sera: Sorry for those dutifully waiting on Chapter 39 of TDoaTE; I promise I will have it up soon. This little bug of an idea has been in my head for months now, as I co-write AMD with it's author. I know the entire plot to AMD, and have been a simp for Harry since the idea of him emerged, so of course we got to talking about an AU where Theia is a part of Carla's life, deemed one of her children. Harry never falls in love in AMD, but in this shared universe, she and Harry would be perfect together. The following is the day the two of them give in to their feelings. It is almost entirely PURE SMUT and a delight to read, if I do say so myself. Enjoy!

When Theia first met Harry, he was cold and aloof. He rarely spoke, unless he thought it crucial, and even then, it was terse, to the point. He was like that with everyone, even his own brothers, and it struck her that he tolerated them more than got along. It was if it was expected of him more than anything else. He stuck to his mother Carla like glue, determined to stand between her and anyone else who got too close, constantly watching out for danger, determined to keep her from any perceived threat. He never laughed at her jokes; she tried so hard to get him to crack a smile at her puns—her absolutely terrible puns—but nothing worked; if he even reacted, it was just a raised eyebrow or a small eye roll before he made his way out of her line of sight.

Lately, he'd been more fire than ice. She had seen Harry stalking around the hotel, all growls and irritation, clearly upset about something. He’d been rude to everyone, snapping at Niffty for being underfoot, starting fights with Husk more often than usual, and just generally being on edge. She swore he’d nearly bit Angel’s head off just because they were having a conversation at the bar. She hadn’t been drinking, had sworn off whiskey long ago to appease Carla, but sitting with Angel had become a passtime nevertheless. She’d just sighed and got up to go to the kitchen, deciding that it wasn’t worth the bother to try and ask him again why he was in such a foul mood.

It had only gotten worse as the days continued on, Harry seemingly being irked by every little thing. Snapping at one of his brothers for lingering in the kitchen for too long when she was preparing a snack, or barking at a different one for leaving a perceived mess on the lounge floor. He’d appeared ready to bite another one’s heads off because he didn’t appreciate ‘his stench’ lingering in the halls. Each and every time, she would watch as his brothers backed off, cowering their heads in submission to the eldest of the Gill boys. One would expect this to appease Harry, but it didn’t; it seemed to only make him worse—he wanted a fight. So he started picking fights with Alastor—someone who wouldn’t hold back after being disrespected— and while it had never been in front of Carla, she somehow always managed to find them to pull Harry away by the ear. Perfect Harry, the perfect son, snapping and snarling with a rage uncharacteristic of him. She didn’t understand why he wouldn’t go to Carla for help, why he would growl at everyone—everyone but her. For being so standoffish for so long, it had suddenly turned sweet, suddenly almost doting of all things.

He’d been spending more time around her, time she hadn’t expected, asking about her day, standing closer to her than usual. She noticed his gaze seemed to follow her everywhere she went, and his sudden attention—focus—confused her.

She hadn’t been sleeping well lately, waking in the middle of the night, so she’d woken up late, too late for breakfast. She’d gone downstairs to make herself something, but as she did so, she noticed that Carla’s usual spread had been devoured, nothing left but crumbs. There was no one left in the dining room, no one but Harry.

He appeared to be staring into space, eyes unfocused as if lost in thought. She approached him quietly, cautiously, and when she was a few steps away from him, she asked in almost a whisper, “Harry, are you alright?” Seeming to right himself in an instant, his gaze snapped up to hers, his face still that always indifferent expression. “Of course.” He replied dismissively, before immediately asking, “Have you eaten?”

She winced as she shook her head. “I stayed up too late last sight and slept in this morning. I was just going to make myself something quick since everything’s already been eaten.” He raised an eyebrow at first, as if confused, then after a moment, he decided, “Sit. I’ll make you breakfast.” He stood then, and she was once again reminded of how tall he was, towering over her at nearly double her own height. She blinked, all twenty-nine eyes fluttering in surprise. He pulled out a chair for her to sit, and she did so, craning her head up to meet his gaze. “That’s incredibly sweet of you, Harry. Thank you.”

He nodded and left for the kitchen. She blinked again, puzzled at his choice of action, and stared down into the eyes on her dress. The eyes stared back. She hadn’t known he could cook, not really—certainly not enough to make her a meal—but perhaps it had been something he’d picked up from his mother. Closing her own, opened the eyes in the kitchen and watched his movements. He seemed to know what he was doing, taking out the tools and ingredients he’d need to prepare her something special—taking care to collect a jar of eyes she hadn’t noticed before, as if he’d gone out of his way to find them himself—and pluck a few green ones from inside. He didn’t even flinch, barely even blinked, as he tossed them into the pan to cook them, and it made her smile. He started on the coffee as the eyes cooked, and she saw him drop a pair of brown ones inside her personalized mug. When had he taken notice of her habits, known she preferred to cook with green, that brown went into her coffee? What else had he paid attention to, observed and taken note?

When it was done, he plated the cooked eyes, turned off the stove, and filled her mug with coffee. As he left the kitchen for the dining room again, she closed the ones in the kitchen and opened her own once more.

As he set the food before her, she smiled up at him, asking, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm always okay; I'm Perfect Harry; didn't you know?" He said it in a comforting tone, but his empty expression didn’t match it. There was something darker in his eyes, something different than the usual blood thirst for which he ached. He was standing next to her, as he so often was these days, always looming over her, as if trying to show off how big and strong hea was, as if he needed her to know.

She just chuckled as she took a bite of the eyes he brought her, sipped her coffee with a smile. "How could I ever forget? It's not as if Carla doesn't always remind me. Thank you again for the food, Harry. It's awfully thoughtful of you."

He didn't tell her that he liked just being Harry, that she didn't feel the need to remind him constantly how perfect he was, but she knew it to be true. She knew his mother din't mean to put so much pressure on him; knew Carla loved him, but she knew how exhausting it must be having to be perfect all the time. She knew he had five brothers because of Carla’s little mantra she would repeat when she was upset. One of them—Peter, along with Poppy, her only daughter— weren’t around, but Theia assumed they were both in Heaven, happy and carefree with a life far less complicated than her own. With four other brothers around, it struck her as odd that all the weight of Carla’s expectations always fell to him. It was easy for her to just let him be himself—just Harry—when he was around, and lately, it seemed as if that’s all he wanted, to simply exist in her presence.

"I like watching you eat, knowing that I was the one who made it for you." He told her simply, and there was a thickness in the air as he let the words fall. Standing all the while, he watched her as she ate. It wasn’t unexpected; he was just like that to her, looming and watching, and she was okay with it. It was an intense gaze that didn't falter until she let out a pleased sigh, taking bites and sipping her coffee. His entire body relaxed, looking like the pup who’d received the praise it craved. While his posture loosened, he still watched her—always watched her—something she’d almost come to expect.

He watched as she chewed, and she noticed as his gaze followed her movements, focusing on the way her sharp teeth bite into the eyeballs she suspected he harvested himself with her specifically in mind. The look in his gaze told of a story she couldn’t read yet, one she craved to know. As a keeper of secrets, Theia knew that Harry had quite a few, despite his aloof demeanor. Just as he knew she had many, she had a strong impulse to learn what he deemed so important as to keep them from his own mother. For instance, when had he learned how to prepare eyeballs so well? It certainly wasn’t a skill she would have taught him.

Theia smiled softly and continued to eat. It was delicious. Despite all of Carla's complaints about her children never learning how to cook, he must have gotten some kind of advice somewhere, for it was some of the best she'd ever had. She raised an eyebrow as she sipped her coffee again. "This is delicious. I didn't know you could cook. Eyes can be quite temperamental."

"I don't typically enjoy cooking, but I know enough to get by. I cooked for Mama when it got harder for her towards the end. I'd happily cook for you more often if it's what you desire." He looked down at her as he said the word, his gaze unfaltering as she ate.

She blushed softly and continued to eat. For a moment she was stunned, confused by his words, and it took her a while to respond. She wasn’t used to being caught off guard, liked to have a quick word for everything, but here he managed to do it. She sipped her coffee and let one of the eyeballs fall into her mouth, chewing it thoughtfully, using it to take the time to think of a response. She'd always thought he was handsome, tall, strong. She'd hidden it for a long time, or at least tried to do so, knowing that Carla saw her like a daughter and he was her son. She'd tried to think of him as a brother, but that had never really been an option, so while amicable, she'd kept her distance. Now, it seemed as if she was the only one in the entire hotel he had any interest in even being around, and it confused her, but she liked how much he seemed to care. After she sipped her coffee again, she looked him in the eyes and gave him a soft smile as she said, "She was lucky to have you there for her, when she needed you most. I've never had someone like that, there for me when I needed them, making meals for me, not since I ran away." She took another bite and continued, "I'd be happy to eat whatever you make me, if it would be as delicious as this."

"I'll look after you." He growled low, and it almost sounded angry, like her words had sparked something deep and primal from within him. He coughed, trying to gain composure. "I'd like you to come to me to look after you. I'd really like it." She flushed even as she saw him flinch. She made a note that her family life—or rather her lack of one—upset him, bothered him that she didn't have what he did. She'd admit it, too, if pressed enough, but that isn't something she feels discussing with him just yet. She shivered as his words reverberated in the room, his growl seeming to wrap around her. It was warm, like a blanket, but there's something about it that makes her want him closer to her.

"I've always felt so safe with you, Harry." She said in barely a whisper, feeling slightly overwhelmed. "I'd like that too."

"I spent my entire life devoted to my mother; never once was my attention enraptured by another, and yet I find my thoughts drifting to you often. What do you want from me? I'd be happy to provide." He said, and there was a heavy intention to the words that she couldn’t quite decipher. It almost felt like a challenge, like he was daring her to come up with something ridiculous; if there were any man who would stand against the test of time, who would be arrogant enough to stand against the test of Heaven’s might, it was Harry.

She blushed impossibly harder, and it felt as if her face might melt. She was stunned a second time in the same conversation, and she had to take another sip of her coffee, let the other eyeball fall into her mouth as she contemplated a response. The very notion that any man—much less perfect Harry—would take an interest in her, was surprising. She'd never let herself give in to that interest, that want, but she found herself craving that especially as he looked at her like that. She's reminded once again of how incredibly tall he is, towering over her, looming, but it's not terrifying as it ought to be. It's comforting, knowing that he could protect her just as easily as he could break her. She finished off the last bite of her food and swallowed the rest of the coffee. She had to tilt her head up so far to look into his eyes, and she's almost convinced she's on fire. He'd always smelled so good to her: smoke, earth, and often like fresh blood, but somehow it's stronger; it's more and she wants to smother herself in it. "I-" She started and stuttered, not realizing how difficult this would be to say, given, well, everything. She took a breath and started again. "Harry, I'd take anything you gave me, as long as it was from you." She stood, took a step closer to him, and even as she did, it was still not close enough, and he's still so tall. "This is...hard for me to say, so I'll try to be as clear as I know how to be." She bit her lip, struggling to keep her gaze fixed on his. She was looking at him—always looking at him—but her gaze was blurred, unfocused, uncertain. "I want you. I want you in any way that you'll have me." She shifted her feet nervously, already embarrassed in anticipation of a rejection. "Sorry if that's too much; I know you don't see me like that…"

He cut her off, leaning in for a kiss, and she could feel his entire body vibrate as he purred against her lips. He was gentle, and a little awkward, growling as he pulled away. It confused her, his tone, and it showed on her face until he spoke. "You have no idea how I see you. I know what Mama says about me, Theia, but she's wrong. I may be the perfect son, but I'm a terrible man. I want you—all of you—and if you give that to me, I won't let you take it back. There is no power that will keep you from me. Devotion is kind of my family's whole shtick; let me give it to you, please." She practically whimpered as he pulled away, choosing to step closer to him—needing to be closer to him—close enough that she had to tilt her head so incredibly far back just to meet his gaze again. "I know you're not perfect. You don't have to be with me." She gave him a soft smile as she continued, "I'm certainly not perfect either, and I happen to like that dark side of you, the side she pretends doesn't exist. I want you, all of you, exactly as you are, Harry."

She wanted to kiss him back, but he was so tall that she'd have to pull her tentacles out just to reach him, just to stretch and climb him. They wanted to escape her, wanted to trap him against her so he could never leave, never escape, never abandon her like everyone else always had. "Please kiss me again. Please." She didn't mean for it to come out as a beg, but there was something about him, something about how close he was, about how she ached to be closer. She let her weight fall against him, practically groaning at the feeling of his body on hers. "I might break if you don't."

"I'll never let you break; I take care of what's mine." He kissed her again gently; his lips touched hers and he was so warm to the touch that it was like he was a roaring inferno. He ran his hand through her hair like she was something delicate for which he wanted to care. He pulled away again, scooting out a chair so he could sit on it. He looked at her, almost at the same eye level now, as he spread his legs comfortably, leaning forward. "There's no leaving my family, Theia. You can ask any of my brothers; I won't let you leave. This is your out. Tell me you want me, and I promise to take care of you in every possible way, or walk away now. I won't hold it against you. I'll still be your Harry; I'll still protect you always, but you'll be free of me. Devotion is worthless if it’s forced; trust me; I know."

He stared into the large eye at the center of her face—his favorite one—as he waited for her response.

She shuffled her feet again, biting her lip. "You know that I have secrets. There are things that view don't know, things I haven't told...well, anyone. If you take me as I am, promise to never leave me, I'll tell you them, and they'll be yours to keep. I'll tell you one right now: I don't have forever: to live, to be with you, but I'll be yours as long as I can be." She crossed the room to him, the few steps that it was, and somehow managed to climb into his lap, resting her legs across his so they dangled over the side. She felt so small, so fragile, so safe. She sighed into his warmth and looked up into his eyes. "I don't want out. I want to be yours, Harry. Forever, if I could, but I know that's not an option. It's not much, but I promise you all the time I have left." She placed a hand over his heart, curled into his side, and looked up into his eyes. "I want to never be rid of you. Please, Harry. I've never been more sure of anything before." "You will give me forever, and I don't much care who I have to go through to get it, but we can discuss that when you're ready." He told her, and it hurt that she believed him; she believed that there was no power that Harry would not stand against to get what he wanted. She remembered the day he met Lucifer, towering over the Devil himself with a stone cold expression, and demanded his mother’s soul back. He was fearless, and cold, and ready for war. That was Perfect Harry. She’d kept out of sight that day, and since Lucifer had been so preoccupied with Carla and everything else going on, she’d managed to keep him from noticing her, hiding in the background, but with Harry, she felt like she didn’t have to be.

He placed one hand on her waist before pressing a hungry kiss to her lips. She was open, and willing, and ached to be his. She ached to belong to someone who would fight against all the most powerful creatures in existence, to be kept safe by someone empowered by devotion and duty. He pushed her down on his thigh, slowly bouncing her on it as he groaned into the kiss.

"Mine." He growled into her mouth as he pulled her closer, as if she could never be close enough to satisfy him.

"Yours." She practically sobbed with a desperate breath, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "If anyone could break this curse—fix me—I bet it's you." She stared into his eyes, all twenty-nine of hers focused on his two. Forever seemed like a lifetime more than she had, even if what she did was far longer than the average human lifespan, seemed like so long to the average sinner. Thoughts swam in her head: so many secrets, so much history she'd never told anyone, never wanted to tell anyone before him. "I have so much to tell you, so much to say, but all of that can wait." She murmured against his lips, peppering kisses as she spoke. "Prove to me that I'm yours, Harry. Prove to me that you'll never leave me, that I'll be yours forever."

He kissed along her cheek, trailing kisses down her neck, being mindful of her eyes. "I'll never leave you. Welcome to the family, Theia."

He stood up, wrapping his arms around her waist as he did so. She wrapped his legs around his to steady herself, and she felt his cock jump in excitement against her thigh. He walked her to his room, kicking his door open as he walked inside before quickly turning, pushing her against it. "Fuck, you're so fucking gorgeous. You're mine." He growled, panting against her neck as he slid a large clawed hand up her thigh, hastily pulling her skirt up. "Fuck, I've never—I've never done this before."

"That's–That's okay." She panted, throwing her head back against the door with a soft thunk, bucking her hips in anticipation. "I know that you'll be amazing." She groaned as he nipped at the side of her neck, threaded her hands through his thick head of black hair. "You're mine after all." She said with a wink. He clawed at her panties, trying to pull them off her hips. "Shred them;" she moaned; "I just want you." The sound of fabric tearing hit her ears, and it fell away from her in an instant. She was slick, and wanting, and desperate. She knew that he was still fully clothed, and she couldn't possibly reach him from this angle even if she tried. She bit her lip and blushed again. "You're practically twice my height; how is this going to work?" He didn't respond to her as his claws dug into her now naked hips and he pushed her up against the wall. He lifted her legs over his shoulders as he licked up her thighs with a long thick tongue. "I'll make it work; I need to taste you first." He whispered low, before he was pulling her flush against his face, pressing his thick tongue between her glistening folds. He groaned in approval as if he were satisfied by the taste, as if she were a meal to be savored. He pushed his tongue deep inside her, dug his claws into her skin, holding her tight as she wrapped her legs around the back of his head. She burrowed her hands in his thick, dark head of hair, pulling at him, and he groaned. He felt her find his large wolf ears, scratching behind them, and he moaned, feeling his tail begin to wag in excitement.

She moaned too, tugging at his hair, pulling him closer to her, wanting him deeper, filling her. "You don't need," she purred as she bucked her hips into his face, "to be gentle with me. I like it rough." She found herself crying out and grabbing fistfuls of his hair as he nipped at her with those sharp teeth of his. "Yes!" She exclaimed as that tongue curled inside her. He was slow and deliberate, as if she were a feast to be devoured and he had all the time in the universe. "Please," she found herself begging, though for a second she wasn't sure for what, "please, Harry, faster, deeper. I need more."

She felt him snarl against her as she bucked her hips into his mouth. He raked his claws down her thighs, wrapping his hands round the back of her knees and pinning them to the wall behind her. She gasped in shock and felt a full-body shiver run through him. He burrowed his tongue deeper inside her, seeming to enjoy the way she helplessly rutted against his face, clawing her nails against his scalp. She arched her back and bucked her hips into his face again as his tongue found that spot inside her that always caused her to see stars. "There!" She cried out with a sob, tears pricking at the seven eyes on her face, "Right there!" Her nails dug into his scalp, and if she were less distracted, she might have been concerned that she'd hurt him, but in that moment, her only focus was climbing closer to that peak. "More," she begged softly, pleadingly, "more, please."

He looked up at her, his hands tightening around her knees as he pushed her feet up to her head. She looked beautiful, perfectly bent in two for him as she arched her back, clawing against his scalp. He slowly pulled away, licking up to her clit and pressing the flat of his tongue against it. He growled as she began to rock her hips, using his tongue to find her release until she let out a beautiful howl of pleasure. Her entire body shook around him and he let her ride out her orgasm. He slowly pulled her down, grinning as she wrapped her arms around him, and he licked up her neck. "Mine. All Mine." He growled into her ear. "I need to be inside you. I want you to take my knot. Tell me you want it; tell me you want me, gorgeous." She moaned at the thought of him filling her, stretching her so incredibly full. She had no doubt he'd be massive—so incredibly big even without it—but knotting her, she'd be stretched even more, stuck to him. "Please," she panted as she raked her nails across his scalp, "yours. Forever yours. I want you. I want you so bad it hurts." She bit her lip and bucked her hips into him, desperate for friction, for anything he could give her. "Please, Harry, fill me; mark me; knot me; break me. I need it." More words tumbled from her lips in an incoherent mess. She'd never been so desperate in her entire life, certainly not for a man. He was different though, made her feel like she was special, made her feel worthy of love. Just as long as she could be enough for him, maybe he would stay.

He tutted at her in gentle disapproval. "I'm not going to break you; I already told you; I take care of what's mine. I will fucking ruin you, though. You're mine now, I'm never letting you go. I'll fucking kill anyone who tries to take you from me." He pulled her with him as he walked over to the bed, pushing her down on the mattress. His room was bare, though that was hardly surprising. A wooden bed with gray sheets, gray walls, and hardly any decoration. The only splash of color in the entire room were the pictures on his dresser: all of his family, mostly Carla and who she could only assume was his little sister Poppy. He looked down at her sprawled across his bed, looking up at him with all her eyes, and he grinned. "Can I take a picture of you? I'd quite like to remember the day I made you mine."

She flushed at the notion, surprised, and nodded, swallowing back a sob. He wanted proof of her existence, proof that she lived, and that made her want him even more. "I suppose it's fitting. I'm your first love. This is my first photograph." It was simple; it was honest, and she gave him a sad smile. "My father never believed in indulging photography, thought it was too modern, that portraits were classier, and even then, I was never to pose for one. I'm a lot of things, Harry, but being loved by my parents was never one of them."

The very notion that he wanted to immortalize her, keep proof of her long after she'd ceased existing from this burden of a curse, should not have made her wet, but it did, desperate to be wanted, desperate for someone who wanted her as she was for as long as she could be. She only hoped it would be enough. "A first is a big milestone. Let's make it one to remember, one no one but the two of us will ever see.” She winked and tugged at the hem of her dress. It parted just enough to tease him further, sliding off her shoulders and hugging her breasts, slitting up the side as she let her legs fall open for him.

She knew that it was a strange concept for Harry to wrap his head around—the idea of not being loved—and it showed. It was obvious that he was loved—cherished even—by all those around him. Carla put a lot of pressure on him, but her love was immeasurable for her perfect son. Even his brothers loved him—despite the clearly tense relationship; it was clear that there was a lot of respect and admiration there. As he looked down upon Theia, it was evident that he could not imagine the life she had lived.

"Beautiful, gorgeous, mine." He praised her, pulling her out of her thoughts as he took picture after picture. “I’m going to plaster these over my walls; you will be the color to take over my gray, Theia.” She flushed at the declaration, at his poetry, moved by the notion that he wanted to surround himself with images of her.

She giggled and laughed as the light flashed, wondered if Vox was watching, if he was seeing what he'd once again failed to hold onto, a fact that she'd never dared to mention to Harry before, prayed it wouldn't affect them down the road even as she wondered to whom she ought to pray.

She knew that no man—no God for that matter—could ever compare to Harry anyway. No man could look quite like he did, could be as strong, as powerful, as tall. She had never been a good woman, never wanted to be, wasn't looking for a good man, either. She wanted a man who could be good to her—so good to her it was as if there were no other women in all of existence—and only Harry had ever met that criteria.

He put his phone into his back pocket before he slowly unbuckled his belt. There was an almost timid awkwardness to the movement, an unpractised action in front of company, and it excited her—she was his first.

As he unzipped his trousers, she tugged on the collar of her dress again, so as he pulled himself free from his confines, the fabric split for him, falling open to expose her fully. She found her mouth falling open in shock when she saw his absolutely massive cock, erect and pulsing with need, precum already glistening at the tip. It must have been an entire foot long and just short of half of that in width. A line of drool trickled out of her lips at the sight of it, thinking how she'd have to contort her features into her demon form just to take him into her mouth. It was a long moment before she spoke, entranced and mystified by the sheer size of it. "I've never even seen, much less had a man as big as you." She said when she finally found words, breathless as she parted her legs wider, wanting it, wanting him. "You're not even inside me yet and you've already ruined me for anyone else, alive or dead."

She felt a shiver run down her spine, spreading through her body in a wave as she imagined how she'd feel, how impossibly full she'd be stretched open on his cock. "Please, Harry, I need you." She moaned, practically begged, another line of drool falling from her lips.

Harry ripped his shirt open to reveal a chest of rippling muscle and thick burn scars across his entire body. A long silver chain ran down his chest, the center of which rested an ornate golden ring with a huge diamond on it.

He held the ring between two fingers, before placing a gentle kiss to it.

“This ring has been in my family for generations, a gift from first born son to first born son. My grandfather passed it down to me, as his did for him, and now it’s yours. My grandmother wore it her entire life. I hope you’ll choose to do the same.”

“I’m honored that you’d trust me with something so special to you, so important. I’ve never had something so meaningful as an heirloom before.” She replied, awestruck at the notion of having something so valuable: an heirloom that had somehow traversed death itself.

“I trust you with my heart, with my life. You’re one of the most important women in the world.” He said, and as if often the case was with Harry, every word was purposeful and full of meaning.

She blushed scarlet, shocked by his words. “Oh, view,” She said with a pun to try and brush away her self-conscious thoughts threatening to bubble to the surface, “it’s beautiful, Harry.”

“You’re beautiful, gorgeous, but not quite perfect.” He said, before he pulled off the large chain, carefully placing it above her so it could fall upon her own chest. “Now, you are perfect.”

She flushed even darker at his words, moved by his praise. While she didn’t think she was perfect normally, somehow, when he said it, she almost believed it. She moaned, opening her hips wider for him, ready and desperate. Understanding her want, her need, He gripped his cock, rubbing the thick head of it between the folds of her glistening pussy before he looked up at her. He slowly pressed against her slick entrance, carefully pushing forward with a clenched jaw. She spread her legs impossibly further, opening herself as wide as she could to make room for something so huge she was sure it would not fit, and then she watched as his eyes went wide. He seemed to stop breathing entirely as he finally thrust inside, and she felt her entire body tighten around him—he was so fucking big. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he cursed, grabbing her hips to pull her down further onto his aching cock. "Fuck, shit, Theia, need, mine."

She threw her head back as she felt him deep inside her, stretching her so she was full of him. She ached to belong to him, to be Harry’s girl, and as if he had read her mind, he demanded it of her.

"Say you're fucking mine; say it. I'll fucking—I don't fucking know; whatever you want Theia; what do you want? Fuck, I'll give it to you." He groaned.

A choked moan escaped her lips as he slid slowly—oh so slowly—inside of her. It needed to be slow just this once—stretching her open so well on his massive, absolutely gargantuan cock. Her own string of curses—a rarity for her—escaped her lips as she reached for him, settled her hands on his chiseled and hairy biceps, wanting more but finding him too far away from her. "Fuck!" The first came as a surprise, even to her, and the rest tumbled soon after. "Fuck, Harry, you're so fucking big!" Another line of drool escaped her mouth as tears pricked her eyes. Her gaze kept drifting from between him and the necklace he'd bestowed on her, the ring he'd deemed so important that he kept it close to his heart. She felt overwhelmed at the notion that he would give her something so valuable, so important to him, as a symbol of what they were, a symbol of what it meant to belong to him. It meant forever, something she hadn’t even considered an option until him. It glinted in the low lighting between her breasts, bounced as he thrust his hips. She'd almost been married once, long ago, to a man who she had never wanted to spend days with, much less her life. Harry had always been different, even from the beginning, even before he didn't see her as worthy like she apparently was now. The notion of being his, so completely his had the tears escaping from the sheer relief of being wanted, needed, possibly even loved. "I'm yours; of course I'm yours. I'll always fucking be yours!" It came out as a combination of a wail and a howl as he continued to plunge deeper into her, and she thought he was done, but as she looked down, it was merely a pause, allowing her body to take even more inside. She whined at that, desperate for more.

This was never going to work without them, and they wanted to escape. Her eyes flashed red at him, and the silhouette of her tentacles loomed around her as she gave him a lustful gaze. "They want you, Harry, just as I do." She moaned as she felt him sucked into her deeper by the sheer notion of them coming out to play. "They want to wrap around you and bury you inside of me, make you mine just as much as I am yours."

"I'm going to make you my fucking wife; you're going to be Theia James, and you're going to spend the rest of your fucking life on my cock. I'll fucking—fucking—shit!" He cursed as her tentacles—The Thousand Eyes—emerged from her back to wrap around him, pulling him closer as he fell on top of her, his cock piercing through to the hilt and she screamed. He grabbed her hips, pulling her closer so he could be deeper, and the head of his cock hit something, a wall deep inside her that made her wail. "Mine. You have no fucking idea how much I want you, how much I've watched you. Fuck. I'm yours. Forever and always. Fucking watch anyone try to take you from me, fucking watch them try." He snarled, claws digging into her as his usually yellow eyes slowly faded away into a dark, shadowy black.

She looked down and saw the large bulge poking up from her abdomen; he was stretching her to force her to accept his cock. He was reshaping her body to suit his needs, remaking her to match his. He began to thrust with earnest, hard and fast as she howled and writhed around him. He placed a hand on either side of her head, pressing his forehead against hers, and she watched a broad grin split across his face, as if he felt giddy that the seven eyes on her face were all on him. "Perfect Theia for Perfect Harry." He purred as he thrust forward, burying himself inside her to the hilt. "Perfect Theia, Perfect Theia, Perfect fucking Theia." He panted in time to his thrusts, never once taking his eyes off her.

Her arms wrapped around his neck as he pounded into her, tentacles writhing around his limbs as she shook with pleasure, achingly close to the edge again as he called her perfect and his. Being his, being perfect enough for him was all she wanted, all she could ever need, and she felt this in every fiber of her being as she felt him hit that spot inside her over and over again. She could do that, be his perfect wife, be the perfect woman for him, if he'd let her stay, let her be his for all she had, all she could give him. She had a desperate want inside her, and he seemed to fulfill everything she'd ever needed, everything she'd ever craved. He wasn't familiar with how her body worked yet, but he would be, would learn every inch of her, would know every way that sent her reeling, but right now, she needed to teach him. One of her tentacles found his hand and pulled it to where she needed, curled around his fingers to show him exactly how she liked to be touched, brushing against her clit in just the right way to send her keening, arching into him as she took him even deeper, singing for him. "Perfect for you. Theia James, just for you. Yours!" She sobbed between breaths, so full to the brim and craving more even as her body shook. "Make me yours forever! I want your teeth on my skin. I want your name carved above my heart. I want to put my mark on your skin, show everyone that you are mine." She declared before it devolved into begging, "Bite me; mark me; fill me; breed me!" It was these words that sent her crashing through another orgasm, screaming, his name on her lips.

A snarl ripped from his lips, primal and violent, before he bit down into her neck. It was sharp and harsh as her blood flowed into his mouth. She screamed in pain but he didn't let go, couldn't let go. He wrapped his hands around the back of her shoulders, pulling her down on his cock as he thrusted up, before he was cumming deep inside her. He let out a howl as he did so, alerting all in the house that she was his. She felt his knot expand within her, stretching her impossibly wide as they were bound together. "MINE. YOU'RE FUCKING MINE." He snarled, claws digging into her naked shoulders and sweat dripping down his face. There was something animalistic to his voice, something deep and dark inside him trying to escape.

"Ỹ̸̲Ō̵͍Ụ̶̏R̸̫͊S̸̟͆!" She howled, eyes flashing red as her tentacles tightened around him, pulled him even closer to her, her nails pricked his scalp as her blood flowed into his mouth. "Ä̷͙́N̴͕͒D̸̹͒ ̵͕̿Y̷̧̛Ò̶̗U̶͔̐'̶̯̓R̵̽͜E̵̪̎ ̸͔̌M̷̹͐I̷̻̽Ñ̶̳Ẽ̴̯,̶̙̏ ̷̠̏Ḧ̸̯Á̷̘R̶̨͌Ŕ̷͕Y̴͇̐ ̴̪̔J̶̺͒A̴̪̚M̵͇̐E̸̍͜S̸͍̽!̷͉͐ ̴̛̺D̶̫̃Ō̵̯N̵̛͈'̶̹͘T̵̪̏ ̵͙̈Y̵̠͌O̵̡̕U̵̻͊ ̶̪̀É̸̟V̵͍̿Ë̷̢Ṙ̵̦ ̴̝̀F̸͎̈́U̴͇͒C̵̺̿K̸͙̊Ḯ̴̲N̵̦͂Ḡ̴̝ ̷͓̎F̵̬́Ȯ̷̢R̶͙̍G̵̳̈E̵̢̊T̴͚̾ ̴̮͛İ̶͕Ṯ̶͑!" Her demon voice slipped through as she roared, sinking her teeth into his neck in turn. His blood was sweet on her tongue, strong and musky and so him. She moaned into his neck as she drank from him, felt as he drank from her. She stayed there, lapping at the wound and licking him clean, sealing it with her tongue as she felt him slowly do the same. She wondered what he'd think when he saw the color of her blood, or maybe he already knew, wondered if it tasted different than that of a sinner. "Yours, Harrison James. Always yours." She murmured as he held her, his full first name slipping out on accident from her lips, with him still knotted deep inside her. They'd be stuck like this for hours. The knowledge of this sent another shiver through her, and she reached up to stroke his ears with a sweet smile. She hadn't meant to call him that, but had thought of him as more than Harry, just Harry, Perfect Harry. He was Harrison: handsome, strong, brave, hers for longer than she'd cared to want, longer than she'd be willing to admit. She'd wanted him to be hers and now he was, so it slipped out without warning. She hoped he wouldn't be upset, wouldn't hate that name from her lips. She knew if it were anyone else it would be bitter or scathing, furious or disappointed. From her, that name would only be loving, affectionate, and kind, if he'd allow her to give him that. "Sorry." She whispered sadly, "I know that name makes you uncomfortable. I have to admit I think it suits you better. Strong. Handsome. Mine."

"I can be Harrison for you, only for you. It'll be our little secret." He whispered, before he kissed her, slow and sensual. Red and black blood mixed on their tongues as they kissed. He'd want to bring that up later, likely much later. She knew the kind of man he was; he would want to hold her, all her secrets, and the weight of the world on his shoulders. She could only hope he would trust her enough to let her hold his too. His ears twitched as she stroked them, and he could feel his large tail wag from behind him in pleasure. He'd have her tied to him for hours, and then they'd go again; she never wanted to be free of him. "My Theia, my beautiful Theia."

She flushed with a smile, kissed him back as she knew he understood she was different, different in ways he didn't fully understand but hadn't been upset or disgusted with her. Their little secret he'd called it, and she smiled. One more for them to share. "A secret for a secret then." She found herself telling him. "If you'll be Harrison for me, I can be Iris for you, if you want." She murmured softly. "I love the name Theia, and it's more mine than it, but I want you to have it, to know it, for I love you more than any name in all of existence, in all of time itself." She continued to stroke his ears, carding her fingers through his hair, as she told him, "I left a life I didn't want to have my own here. I meant to run away, escape a marriage I had never wanted, hide for the years I have left, and disappear. I never meant to fall in love." She kissed him again, deeper this time. "Well met, Harrison James. My parents named me Iris, gave me a title and power, then stripped it away. I left that life a long time ago. For you, I will be Theia James, your wife for now and always." "Your name is Theia James; no one can strip that from you: forever defended, forever cherished, forever mine." He told her, and she understood that just as she didn’t like the name Iris, he would never speak it, that he wouldn’t stand to hear anyone call her by it ever again, and it was just as she wanted. She saw his ears press against his skull in sudden embarrassment, pulling her from her thoughts. "Sorry for cursing so much; you just felt really good." He chuckled, as she saw his face go red with embarrassment.

He pressed one hand against the back of her head, and the other to her waist so he could roll them over. He laid with his back on the bed while she was on top of him. He pulled her head against his chest—his heart—and sighed contentedly.

“I will never understand how my father could break my mother down so viciously, how he could stand to be so cruel to her, but know that I never will. I will never allow that swine of a man near you; I will never allow any man to taint your perfection. I will keep you safe: forever and always. I love you Theia James, my wife.” He said to her, and it sounded like more than a promise; it was a vow.

As she internally winced at the notion of keeping her from a man she had once allowed his entanglement—his company—she thought about his declaration to her. Vows and integrity were important. To declare something so crucial and follow through to the end without the necessity of a deal was something to which she too adhered, something she insisted she followed. It gave her great relief to know he was the same. She purred and curled into his embrace; the sound of his heartbeat soothed her as she started to be lulled into sleep even as they were still tied together. She knew they'd likely wake to do it all again, more secrets to share and more devotion to confess. “I love you as you are, my Harrison James.” She murmured even as her eyes drifted closed. “Swearing and all.” He loved her, and it felt right. She'd given him her heart, and he had vowed to cherish it, protect her, and love her forever, even as she knew that wasn't yet viable. She'd never understand how her parents could be so cruel to their own family, their own children, to each other. She would never be that way to Harrison—her Harrison. No one had ever thought to come looking for her here, not in the last sixteen years. She'd stay safe from her family with him, and they'd never need to come looking for her, far away in Pentagram City. She didn't need to break the curse. She'd found happiness in this, in them. This was enough. She'd be safe, in his arms, for all the time she had left.

A/N: Theia and Harry are fucking stupidly cute. He'd tear the world apart and lay it at her feet for her if it'd keep those eyes on him, would devour anyone stupid enough to get in his way---especially those who would to seek to take the woman he's deemed as his, his wife, away from him. She's so desperate for love, for someone who will keep her safe and devote their life to her so that she can do the same, that all she wants to do is be perfect for him, just as he is Perfect Harry, the perfect son, for his mother. These two make me ill and their obscene height difference is hot as fuck. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

The Demon of a Thousand Eyes masterlist || A Mother's Devotion masterlist

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escapaldi · 11 months ago

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So… I followed you a long time ago, and then I left tumblr. I can’t remember if we interacted much back then, but since you’re also active here I have to ask: what did you think about the specials as a Capaldi fan?

Hello! I know I've seen your name around before, so welcome back! Even when I wasn't posting on this blog specifically, I was still on tumblr posting fic and stuff, so even though there is a gap I've always been here.

Now, as far as the 60th anniversary specials: I haven't watched them and don't plan to for a long time. A long-winded and salty rant by me is under the cut.

To be honest, I haven't felt the need to watch any new Doctor Who since Capaldi and Moffat both left because it all sounded like boring and cringey fan fiction (derogatory) I wasn't really jiving with. If that makes sense? Then RTD came back on as a showrunner and I was severely disappointed because it felt like such a step backwards. Plus that Tennant was going to be in it? No thanks.

Like... I get that to a lot of people, his return makes these specials "feel like Doctor Who again". I've seen that statement a lot from both randos and people I know. Which, fine, whatever, I'm not begrudging people for it, but for a lot of folks saying that, the statement includes a bunch of the show that doesn't feel like Doctor Who to me. I came in w/s5 because of a series of events that turned me off to the show early on. I was nearly sixteen when s1 premiered in the UK. That should have stuck me in the prime demographic to not only love s1-4, but have a sort of nostalgia filter over it to help facilitate excitement over the 60th specials. Well, there's some problems with that.

I can't stand Rose Tyler and any reference to her as something positive makes me cringe. Doctor/Rose in any form makes me viscerally nope out of anything. She was not as likeable as people lead others to believe.

I've been Pavloved into disliking Tennant due to the oversaturation of his interpretation of the Doctor in the series and the fandom as a whole, despite the fact he's just meh. The Doctor is not his best role and in general he doesn't do it for me in the looks department, especially as the Doctor. Which, it's fine if you like watching him (I'm sure Georgia loves watching him and she is a very good sport about a lot of shit) and I know my DW experience has been enhanced by watching the pretty but I am a demographic outlier lol.

What I did see of s1-4 before I got into s5 was Rose being an idiot, getting a deeply unsettling feeling over Jack Harkness, being pissed off for Martha and Mickey and livid about Donna, being irritated by the Master and the angsty space Jesus shite, and thinking Ten and Donna would make a good couple actually.

Oh yeah, and very specifically I'm mad because I watched The End of Time Part 2, like, almost soon as I could, and knew immediately that Martha/Mickey was Pair the Spares Race Edition even though at that point I hadn't watched all of s1-4 and for all I knew they hit it off in an unseen-by-me episode for a reason that wasn't getting drunk over their mid-tier white exes hooking up. Like, I clocked that shit back in 2009. There was a lot of shit I was not clocking in 2009, but I caught onto that, which should be an embarrassment.

...and, like, I'm on the internet, so I've seen spoilers. It's difficult to not see spoilers. Some of the spoilers I love to see hello Fifteen's THIGHS we love us a good slutty Doctor and I do have one UK-based friend specifically whom I've talked to at length about the specials. My fiancé also has been watching this entire time w/o stopping since 2005 (bc he caught it all as it premiered here in the US and at least he got to watch s1 Billie Piper; I fault him for nothing), so he's been giving me updates on what's going on as well. He is a good man who has done saintly things like drive me across three state lines to meet Peter Capaldi at a Doctor Who convention, so... he's generally trustworthy, but also a lot more forgiving than I am. But he was also the one who broke to me the news about Rose Noble because he knew I'd get upset that she's not Donna Jr. So I've got some good fonts of information. They tell me that I'd like the second and third more than the first, that we've just got some extra Ten-Donna adventures, and that generally everything's stepped up a bit from Thirteen.

...but to me, a step up from Thirteen is still not a step towards where we need to go.

You can't go from Eleven and Twelve, an ancient eldritch god trapped in a body with the grace of a baby giraffe and a legit punk who punches diamond walls for his wife and racists for his daughter, respectively, to a Tory apologist who never really got a scary "I am the Doctor and you're stuck here with me now what a shame :)" moment like Nine through Twelve got and think that "a step up" from that is going to catch me. I'm not enticed by the prospect of another Ten-Donna adventure done by the man whose writing and showrunning kept me away from Doctor Who for so long. I. could. not. care. less. There is literally no nostalgia filter making this okay to me. I cannot see what other people see.

I don't want to be an anti, I don't want to be a NMD, but they keep pushing my fucking hand and now I'm sitting here having not watched new episodes of what is literally one of my favorite shows since before the pandemic, watching from an arm's length as it sort of caves in around itself, going and absolutely pissing away their chances at having a really cool, massive-multi-Doctor bonanza like no other. You could have twelve Doctors. TWELVE DOCTORS. Eleven if our most venerable just kinda taps out like nah I'm done unless you give me Bill's job from the Three Doctors special. Like, the fuck, y'all. That got whizzed right down the fucking leg. Did they even try? Did they get rebuffed? Whose decision was the 60th specials? Do they even like Doctor Who? Or are they part of the set that thought that Tennant's Doctor would never be topped?

So... yeah... that's the gist of it. I'm sure it's gonna take being sat down for a marathon by Mr. Nehs before I get into Doctor Who again, which is honestly sad. The BBC has hated this show and been visibly trying to run it into the ground since they decided to make the divisive decision of casting Matt Smith (which worked out great in the long run but having been on the internet at the time as that announcement I can assure you it was not received well) and now they've got Mouse Bucks and some straight-up boring as sin seasons/series under their belts and idk what in the hell's coming for us now.

#replies #dielittlehero #sorry I kind of went off it's not your fault #a scary thing to consider is that by the time the 70th and 75th anniversaries roll around I might have kids old enough to watch #and not just watch but APPRECIATE as well #that's a terrifying thought considering everything #I'm not gonna tag w/fandom to keep it out of searches but yeah #and I swear to fucking God if they try to do a UNIT spinoff like they did to Torchwood I am going to SCREAM bc Torchwood is trash #I'm only vaguely 'in' the fandom rn and i feel freer for it tbh

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multiverse-imagines · 2 years ago

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@lupina36-blog of ao3 and Tumblr!

Hello

I've loved Trigun for years! Vash is such a wonderful man!!! I would therefore like to make a request for an OS in which the Reader comes from another planet and is on a research mission on Gunsmoke and meets Vash who is unabashedly flirting with her and is keen to get to know her better, which the Readers do thrown into quite a dilema. Because on the one hand she likes the blonde very much and she thinks that he has beautiful eyes, on the other hand she is of course not allowed to tell him that she comes from another planet or that she is an alien. Would it be possible?

A/N: Anything is possible! I'll make it possible!!! Such a wonderful concept deserves to come to life! I'll be placing this during Episode 14 in Trigun 98. During the episode he has like, no screen time. I love hearing about Lihio, and your otp makes me so happy! Let's fuckin gooooo

This will be 2 parts, minimum. This first one is kinda short, because I have better ideas for part 2!

Adventures of Lihio-Minaa: Episode 1

The Mission is Compromised

Landing in the sand just outside of a small town of Gunsmoke, her skin color changing from her beautiful green to a modest tan.

Lihio-Minaa brought her goggles over her eyes to check over her most recent mission checkpoints. She had been sent to Gunsmoke to check on the humans quality of life, their cohabitation ratio with Plants, and progress of life since crashing on this planet 130 years ago. The Federation found it odd that life as fragile as a humans had managed to survive on a planet like this for this long.

She trekked into town, nearly regretting wearing her sneakers as she felt the sand sinking into them. She lifted her goggles as the wind died down around her, the buildings of the little town of Promotory. She had noticed the small few acres of geoplants on the land of one resident. Everyone else seemed pretty miserable.

They went about their day to day, sure, but their dopamine levels and serotonin levels were so low, Lihio could barely tell they were alive. She couldn't believe they were even functioning.

Making her way to a local saloon, the levels seemed to be higher there, as patrons drank and smoked to their heart's content. Not wishing to deal with the rowdy crowd, she turned to leave, bumping into someone.

She looked up to see a man in a long red duster coat. His luscious blond hair defied gravity as it stuck upwards like fields of wheat. His eyes, surprised but quickly melting at the sight of her, reminded her of the waterfalls of Virmire. A beautiful blue when shining in the sun, yet his eyes retained that color in the shade of the bar.

"Oh Sorry, Miss, I didn't mean to run into ya!" He was surprised, "Why don't I buy you a drink as an apology?" He offered. There were no underlying motives in his voice.

"Um, sure." Lihio nodded. He guided her to the bar, ordering a bottle for the two of them to share. The stuff was cheap, but tasty.

"I haven't seen you around, before, are you new in town?" He asked after taking a drink, allowing the alcohol to seep into his system. A quiet beep from her goggles that could only be heard by Lihio, meant she should check her Glass Ware. This was the computer she kept in the safety of her goggles. She couldn't do that with this man here.

"Yeah, I just stumbled in today. Got tired of being cooped up at home, and decided to go on an adventure." She shrugged, taking a drink of the whiskey, not feeling much. With the alcohol loosening his mind, she did a gentle search into his mind to see what this planet was like.

She blinked, flabbergasted. She'd seen too much. Too much for any more human to have in his head. Life on the Seed ships, a mother figure, the Fall, his hardships. The trials he faced… a brother… a wanted poster with his face… a door of locked memories he didn't have access to. This man… he was a plant. An independent plant.

Lihio hadn't met many independent plants in her time, but she knew they were a species that lived for a long time, as long as nothing happened to them. They didn't seem to die from aging. He isn't that much older than she is.

"W-what's wrong?" He said, noticing Lihio's surprised face.

"O-Oh, I just realized I don't even know your name, stranger!" She said, recovering. The man gave a light chuckle.

"My name is Vash the Stampede." He held his hand out to shake.

"Lihio-Minaa. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Stampede." Lihio shook his hand and nodded.

"Lihio, what a beautiful name!" He smiled, "It sounds like… standing in a tall field of flowers…" he closed his eyes, as he imagined standing in a field of sunflowers. A memory from the seed ship, no doubt.

"Thank you. And Vash is quite a beautiful name as well." She complimented.

"I think you would look lovely with a crown made of little flowers, or a beautiful bouquet in your hands." He continued, a gentle smile on his face that sent a shiver up Lihio's spine.

'This man is a problem' Lihio nearly frowned at the thought. She liked him a lot. He'd been through so many hardships. He had a wealth of information about this planet, its people, and its tragedies. She had seen a memory of his scars. So many scars that covered him from head to toe.

This long life had not been kind to him. She saw friends, people he called family, only to betray him. Humans who lived such short lives, yet he loved them unconditionally, no matter what sin they created.

"You okay? You seem lost in thought." He asked gently. His eyes looked worried.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just admiring your coat. It's a lovely color." Lihio recovered.

"Ah, Thanks. It was a gift from my family." The thought of the ship that still floated above Gunsmoke drifted through his mind at the memory, "I need to go home and visit them sometime." He nodded.

"I know the feeling. It's… been quite a while since I left my home." She nodded. This was a fib, honestly. She'd been home maybe a few years ago. Work had kept her busy.

The two of them talked about anything and everything, allowing Lihio to get her information about this planet and its inhabitants. This planet desperately needed help, and she would bring it to them.

While Vash was partying it up with the locals, she snuck out of the bar. She was a few buildings down when she heard Vash's voice.

"Hey! Aren't you gonna stick around?" He jogged up to her, and an orange and green necktie swayed, smacking him in the face as he drunkenly tottered.

"I have to go, Vash. I had an amazing time."

"Whaaaat? C'mon, stay a little longer!" He whined, gently patting her head, "it'll be fun!"

"I'm sorry. I would love to stay, but I can't." She frowned up at him. He looked drunk enough that he might not remember anything in the morning.

"Goodbye, Vash. I'll miss you." She stepped back from him, and clicked her watch, her skin returning to a pale green and she was beamed back up to her ship.

---

Lihio walked to her bosses office, practically breaking down the door in her excitement.

"Sir, I have a request!"

#trigun #trigun brain rot #Lihio-Minaa x Vash #oc x vash #this was so fun! im excited for part 2!#what is Lihio's request?!?! find out next time!

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conjured-osteon · 2 years ago

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Hiatus

{-Kicks rocks an mumble grumbles- I SWEAR this account was fully intended to have more activity but I'll be going on a Hiatus till further notice. If curious, I've added more under the cut but to keep it short'n'simple; Rough start to the year that only continued hasn't helped my creativity an instead stressed me out. (Triggers in the Tags, just in case.)}

{Starting this explanation on a softer note, I find myself having a hard time focusing on my lovely characters an this blog. Not to say I'm intending to get rid of it! But when you get nervous trying to reach out to others or don't get responded to it can be a bit disheartening an I never know what to do as a plan B. (Plus I know we all have lives outside of this. I'm just an unfortunately nervous person an sometimes the Logical Thinking gets bopped by the What If's) But I also have Bouncing Interests so at times my drive will go from full throttle to Zero without any warning because something else has gripped me like a vice.

I have been desperately wanting to work on the blog but as mentioned above, lack of interaction kills the motivation an leaves it kinda stressful cause I dunno what I can do to do better, especially when not wanting to be a pester or bother anyone. Otherwise I HAVE met some wonderful people who are a delight to chat/plot with and I am so, so, so sorry I've been inactive the past month :'D I take responsibility for that radio silence of mine.

And onto rougher notes... New Years Eve I had to say goodbye to my childhood dog. She lived a good, long life an it's still upsetting not seeing her around after nearly 15 years. Holidays already grate me so the addition only made it worse and then some other details surrounding it just, made it especially bitter for me. I've suffered depressing/anxiety fueling dreams involving her almost every night since. Following as a few days ago; one of my cats passed away. Another example of old age but losing a pet never comes any easier over the years.

Around December is when my mental state really started taking a nosedive, one I thought was going to be a temporary thing seeing as I was working odd hours for events from my usual shifts, not resting or eating properly Truth be told I'm bad at that in general bUT, grieving over the approaching vet visit on top of other stressors that came during the Holiday season. A part of the mindset I was thinking it would pass was due to the fact I don't register things that have happened/are happening immediately, an so I just guessed I was having one of my delayed responses from other things and handling present stress... Cept, it continued on in waves for several weeks in comparison to a day or two. Aaaand earlier today while I was working, I got so stuck in my own head, so tightly wound up by meaningless thoughts, arguments with not purpose and physically over stimulated into self directed aggression by getting MF'in' hiccups that I ended up reaching out to a Cr!s!s Hotline when I found I couldn't even make myself contact friends/family. My strongest Rational and Logical Thought was I needed to talk to someone before my predicament made itself truly hazardous. Immediately after, I called my partner so he'd be aware. I'm doing better at the current moment, quite chilled out actually an I fully intend to bring this all up with my Therapist this week.

I hate worrying others and I falter to express what's going on due to the always hovering thought of I'm just looking for attention, or I'll be ruining another person's day because I'm being a child. Something I've struggled with for a long time that I'm hoping-- Trying, very hard to work through.

Soooo yeah- I guess this is me saying I need to step back for my mental health. I'm still so bummed out by having to do this but I really, really want this to be a fun space I can look forward too at the end of my day without my own nagging negativities getting in the way of it.

DMs will continue to be open but I'll be much more MIA from here than I was prior, this time with reason behind it.}

#OOC {Mun}#Hiatus: Start #tw: mental health #tw: pet loss #{Uuuh I think those're the only things really needing to be tagged there}#{nothin' graphic by any means if you're worried}#{A day doesn't pass of me not thinking of Marrow an the things I so very much want to do. Just can't when it's intertwined with stress}#{Hell I nitpicked/messed with this time for an hour hUH-}

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brokenhcrt · 5 months ago

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HEADCANON DUMP ; STORM SIMMS

headcanons from previous blog

storm has been to a few warped tours

storm's main jewellery, ones you would almost always see him wearing. a pick necklace, it was originally just a plain silver one, but then the pick was lottie's favourite colour, he also has his mother's wedding ring on it too, his father said he could have it ( haven got their mother's favourite bracelet and engagement ring ), he has a black ring he wears on his left middle finger - it was given to him on his 18th birthday by his mother.

that is what he will always wear, he will wear other jewellery as well

the pick will change colour to what ever his so fav colour is

If you find out Storm's birth name, do not use it as you'll find it's one of the few things that set him on edge, and a constant useahe will result in him getting angry

honestly, the only time blythe, storm’s father, got very angry was when storm told him what had happened between him and haley. his father, called up haley’s father and yelled at him for raising a spoiled entitled brat who hurt storm, not long after storm’s mother had passed away at that

if i’m honest, if you end up close to storm. you could just rock up to his parent’s home, walk yourself in, and act like it’s your house - and his father and sister wouldn’t care. they’re use it already from his band members. you will not be kicked out of the house, just asked if you ate the last of the cereal

now....i’m not saying the simms family dressed up as the addams family one halloween..... but they totally did.... blythe - gomez, rebecca - morticia, storm - pugsley & haven - wednesday

date storm & you get a song. simple. he will eventually end up writing a song for you

His sister is a dancer, and he makes sure he goes to every recital he can of hers to support her even when the band kicks off and if he can't make it in person will call her and let her know he supports her and loves her and wishes her the best at the recital

Storm is the kind of person to call his S.O baby

Storm, instagram only: stormsimms

Storm doesn’t really have any social medias. He has an instagram but like, that is it and he barely posts on it. If he posts on it, it’s generally band related stuff, is friends, his s.o but extremely rare if it’s him himself ( unless promo for band )

while storm’s lockscreen is generally his partner if he has one, it’s his bandmates if he’s single. his homescreen will forever be his favourite photo of him, his dad & mum and sister. bc it’s with his whole family smiling and it is attached to a great memory.

when in a relationship. you can bet that storm’s phone background is his partner

storm 100% get’s his kind, caring nature from his mother

dating storm includes: him buying you cute little gifts. him buying things that remind him of you. him taking you with him to his mother’s grave with him. kisses and hugs a lot. kisses on the cheek, forhead, hand - everywhere kisses. hugs from behind. soft cuddles. him playing songs solely for you. him learning your favourite songs and playing them for you. matching jewellery.

Storm’s last serious relationship was when he was nineteen, not too long after his mother died in fact. It lasted nearly four months. It was a girl named Haley, she was an old friend, the daughter of his parents friends. Though, his parents stopped being friends with them because they were one of the sets of people who were judging Storm for his non confirming ways that they thought that the rich should look like and act, and what music they should listen too. The relationship ended when Storm found out that Haley was only dating him to piss of her parents and she wasn’t up front about it. Had she asked, he might have been okay with it. He didn’t like being used, so he dumped her. He’s been a few dates here and there since then, but nothing has stuck yet.

how he says 'i love you' without actually saying it: Helping out when he can, always lending ear for you to talk to and buying small gifts he knows you would love. He notes everything you say away in his mind, and does at times buy little gifts that remind him of you

storm writes a song - in later years, called heartbreak sisters. the inspiration is the daines’ sisters. he uses different names, but he knows both girls stories and thought it would make a good song. it’s about how these two girls who are so different from each other and the struggles they’ve gone through and how they despite everything the heartbreak sisters are just trying to be there for the other.

Storm has seven tattoos. He has a his sister ( tulips ) and mother’s ( desert rose ) favourite flowers over his heart. Stick n Poke star in the crook of his neck, near collar bone, left side done by Andy. A sword on his inner upper right arm. A crown at the base of his neck. “eat the rich” written on his left arm, at the wrist. Skull on his right shoulder blade. Mini Maze on his right thigh & ghost on his inner left arm

storm’s mother died when he was nineteen, it was from car accident, she was coming home from work, and she - just didn’t make it because a drunk driver hit her car, she had died on impact.

storm does like a few pop bands - one he loves is little mix. only people he allows to make jokes about it are his band mates and his sister.

storm is a people pleaser... but literally only to those he cares about and close to him. he’s the first person to reassure you that he’s there for you, or just to tell you whatever you want to hear - even if it’s cheesy as fuck. he doesn’t care. because he wants everyone close to him to be happy. though this people pleasing doesn’t go without boundaries as in he doesn’t push his boundaries when people pleasing - and in fact can be quiet blunt, if the person needs to hear it too.

for one halloween storm dressed as slash

storm’s parents home isn’t the biggest, it has five rooms - three of which are guest bedrooms. his parents don’t like to flaunt their wealth as much as their old friends did. it’s part of the reason their children aren’t the ‘stereotypical’ rich kids. luxury ( a want not a need ) items were treated as such and everyone in the family worked hard to get the things they want. the only time their parents let them have the money without working for it was when it was to help a friend out.

storm’s family is always donating to charities. they always research the charity first as well.

storm would 100% wear a shirt that says ‘eat the rich’ and if you call him out for being from a rich / wealthy family he will say ‘i said what i said’

there was a moment, where andy’s drumkit had been broken, everyone suspected it was the guy harassing her. andy cried at seeing it. storm brought her a new one

radiates big brother energy.

will not hesitate to step between you and someone bothering you

practically an older brother to andy

hates his legal name, you call him that - he won’t listen, call him storm

will let you play with his hair

#canons. storm

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neblumun · 7 months ago

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saw your reblog, so i’m here to ask you about your ocs. tell me EVERYTHING

i nearly dropped dead when i saw this ask LETS GOOOOOOO!

since i have like, a lot of ocs, i'll just talk about my comfort ocs/ the ones im currently obessing over

first we have UX (blue gem) and Faith (purple gem) they're both acutally used to be one god but got spilt into two demi gods and they're both perfectly happy this way though they have no memory of the god they use to be.

UX tends to be the more reckless one but she does care about everyone close to her, she just doesn't think much first. her powers are fire, crystals and shapeshifting, she also has a photogentic memory that she considers a curse. her temper can also sometimes gets the better of her that she'll explode into flames

Faith is very much UX's opppsite, quiet, resevred, smart, he likes spending time reading and staying inside, his powers are electricity, stone, he can shapeshift like UX but he can never figure it out, his memory is of a slice of bread-- his head is empty, sometimes he just forgets he lives with UX, he also has the power to see into the future…but due to his memeroy issues he'll forget what he saw

now for my undertale ocs, Eraz, calcite and Tictoc! together they make up a team called the 'Snooze Squad' (think of them as a bootleg star sanses)

Eraz is the 'leader' of the group, though they prefer to laze around and not do their job, of course they deeply care about their teammate and will throw themsevles into battle if trouble rises. they also like spicy food and spicy sauces, Eraz is not a sans they just stole the face off a Sans (they 'promise' to give it back). Also they're a huge book/lore nerd, ask them about AUs and books and you'll be stuck in a 4 hour ramble

Calcite is a good boy, not very smart but his heart is in the right place, he's a glitch corrupted by negative magic but that doesn't seem to stop him from being a bundle of joy, he likes to eat chalk (purple colored ones are his favorite) Calcite is a sans though no one really knows what type though due to the fact that he wears a scarf some think he's some form of a swap sans, the tear marks on his cheeks can change depending on his mood (like hearts, stars or frowny faces)

Tic Toc doesn't really know where they came from since his AU was destroyed beyond repair and he was left to rot there, he's not a sans but a ghost with a robot host (like mettaton), he was the first one to be found by Eraz and since then he's been loyal to them…even if he disproves their laziness

right! so thats all i can write right now without becoming a jittery mess, if you want to know more about my ocs please check out my art blog since thats where i post them! (musingartblog)

thank you for asking! you dont know how long ive been looking forward to this

#ask #shut up me

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0daytrick0 · 1 year ago

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So... Life update.

It's nearing the end of 2023. I picked up the gym then dropped it, due to financial reasons. Picked up uni then dropped it due to financial reasons. Moved towns then moved back because of financial reasons. This year, as per usual, money has been the downplay of it all. But that's okay. As I still achieved alot nonetheless.

I finally live in a house, and a damn fine one at that. I lived in a really sh!itty unit for so long. Having my car get broken into. Sharing a wall next to a drug dealer. It was scary and intense. But it took me going to Townsville and coming back that allowed me to have an actual house to live in.

I bought another dog. My dream dog at that. It almost didn't happen. But here she is and she most definitely is my soul dog. I will literally sleep on the floor for her to be happy.

My partner ended up getting me my dream car. It needs a bit of work and love. But it makes it so much more rewarding. It runs like a charm and needs a bit of TLC for the appearance. But overall, it's perfect.

The cafe I worked at got sold, and in turn alot of drama happened. Through it all I think I remained pretty stoic through it all. Not gossiping and talking about people. But meerly focusing on the issues at hand and trying to work around it. It definitely sucked as I loved the flexibility and freedom the job offered before it got sold. And it became hard when I picked up more hours with none of my own agreements being met. But it made me stronger and better being able to sit down with the owner and calmly explain to her my wants and needs. My expectations not being met and not being mad at her. Holding no emotion in these discussions but focusing on comunicating to get my demands met.

I ended up quitting the job due to toxicity and focused on what I wanted. I was unemployed and had my partners income, which is tough. But in the process I was proud of my self and grew mentally. I started reading more and got into philosophy. I realised that it's not so much art I want to create but stories. I discovered that I wanted to write and writing I did not struggle with. I sat and watched so much content to learn how to write good and meaningful stories. Going so far as to finish plotting the first three novels on-top of being halfway through the first official draft of the first book.

I uninstalled my worst social media platforms. These being instagram and Facebook. These two had me in a chokehold and did nothing but consume me. I would procrastinate but doomscrolling and have no achievements at the end of the day. It was the best thing I ever did. Especially once I read the quote

"do you post for attention or intention. Do you post for people to see, or do you post for people to learn?"

I still have all of my accounts for instagram and can still access it on top of Facebook. But it's only though my laptop in the browser version. So unless it's for a specific purpose I will no be on there. I have noticed my productivity has gone up since doing this and everything I do is meaningful. If I'm bored I'm stuck with YouTube, twitter, Tumblr, Pinterest or books. My YouTube is heavily moderated, so the content I do get is educational, inspirational, or artistic. Twitter I hate using and is also heavily moderated to the point it only shows art. Art that I can't really see unless I'm on Instagram. Tumblr is just a blogging app to begin with. So if I am using it I'm either writing something myself, reading something someone else wrote or being inspired by studyblr. Pinterest is all round just an inspirational app. So not much can go wrong there. And books. I have many books to choose from since they are so cheap through google play books. If I'm bored I can read ANYTHING through my phone. At the moment I am nearly finished Marcus Aurelius, Meditations as well as Sun Tzu, The Art Of War. I'm also reading the throne of glass series by Sarah. J. Mass. As long as I finish reading these books I count it as a productive activity. As it's something I completed from start to finish. Same with gaming. Currently playing Baldurs Gate 3, and I am nearly finished. Leading me to feel a sense of accomplishment while still do something fun and lazy.

In essence, this year I didn't get what I PLANNED on getting, but I did most certainly get things I have wanted for a while. I'm working towards getting a job in the hospital so I can really focus getting my foot in the door for psychology. So it makes the endeavour next year studying it much more meaningful. I have no idea what next year is going to hold but I really do hope it's good things. Meaningful things. Things that hold a purpose for the better.

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gingernut1314 · 1 year ago

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heyyy can u write something where a female reader is doing chores on the Merry and she’s singing and Buggy (as a head) is with her and hears and is immediately like JOIN MY CREW because she’s amazing and there’s some flirting <33 thanks!

Songbird

Buggy x F!Reader

Summary: Buggy has taken up calling you songbird after catching you singing to yourself to pass the time. A nickname you want to hate but can't help but secretly like. A nickname that only adds to your secret growing liking of the psychotic clown.

Tags: Angst, Flufffffff, Flirting and some spicy suggestive talk (eventual spicy next part)

Word Count: 4.9K

A/N: Thank you for the request! I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind but this is what my mind decided to write down. If for any reason you would like there to be some spice at the end...just let me know, I'll hook you up 😂 I wasn't sure if you wanted this to have any or not so I just didn't add it. Anywaaays, I hope you enjoy and thank you again for the request!!

↞ to Songbird Masterlist | Buggy the Clown Masterlist | One Piece Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠

“Fuck, you have an amazing mouth.” The detached head of the pirate clown you were babysitting said from where you had left him to sit on the kitchen table in a hushed sort of tone. A hushed tone you did not fail to hear. You paused your sweeping of the floor, paused your absent-minded singing of some random tune you had created, to turn and glare daggers the clown's way.

“What did you just say?” You said in a warning.

“I said fuck, you have an amazing singing voice.” He said with that annoying shit-eating grin on his red-painted lips. You continued to stare down at him, about done with his bullshit. Especially since you had been the nicest babysitter he’d ever had.

Everyone else on the Going Merry since stealing the satchel bag containing Buggy’s head had kept him in that bag. The same bag that had been dragged through the cold water of the East Blue. The same bag still full of sand and dirt and bits of food that had found its way into it during the fight back at the Baratie. The same dirty bag no one had bothered to wash and Buggy was stuck in it 99% of the time.

And you let him out of it that last 1%. Let him breathe real air and see the sky and the sea. Let him talk your ear off even when it got on your nerves.

And you did all that just for him to what? Cat-call you? It was almost a joke.

You blinked at him once, twice…

“I’m getting Zoro.” You said, propping your broom up the kitchen island.

“Wait, wait, wait! Not that shithead! He nearly dropped me in the ocean!” You ignored him and started for the exit. “Wait--hold on, songbird. Just--look I’m sorry.” He grit out like it physically hurt him to say such a thing. To even think about apologizing for something you might have done wrong.

It almost didn’t work for you. You were strong and independent. You didn’t just bend to silly little apologizes crude men shot your way…but then you thought of that bag he was stuck riding around in. Thought of the way you would feel stuck in a prison like that, not able to know exactly where your body was or what was happening to it--to have no control over your life.

You did know what it felt like to have no control over your life. To be stuck in a cold, unforgiving cage with no source of comfort or hope to be seen. And you hadn’t suffered that long in that much hate and cruelty to deal it onto another living soul. Because, despite the horrible things he had done, he was a living breathing human being.

And hell, you were no saint. You had done horrible things in your past as well. Things that still haunted your dreams and followed you into the waking world.

“You’re what?” You said, looking over your shoulder at Buggy who was rolling his eyes.

“I’m not saying it again.” You shrugged.

“I’m not the one Zoro’s gonna beat the shit out of.” Buggy gave an overly dramatic, exasperated huffing noise.

“Fine. I’m sorry.” You cupped your ear in your hand, mockingly trying to hear him better.

“Danm it. I didn’t catch that.” You said with a ‘tsk’.

“I’m sorry!” He all but shouted, that frustration high and very clear on his face. A frustration that had satisfaction rising in your chest. “There? You happy?” You nodded, a smirk pulling to the corner of your mouth.

“One more time might be even better, but I’ll let you off the hook.” Buggy huffed, watching as you went back to sweeping the floor.

“I’m sorry.” He said again softly. So soft you nearly didn’t hear him. His words shocked you so much you nearly froze in your spot. It was sincere that time. Not full of his usual sass and drama. Sass and drama you refused to acknowledge you actually enjoyed.

You knelt down, sweeping the pile of dirt into the dustpan you had grabbed from where you had left it on the island stool.

“Thank you.” You said in an even tone. One you hardly let show just how shocked you were at him. You stood, throwing the dirt away in the waste bin before going about wiping down every surface of the kitchen that had been remotely used that day.

“You know…I could use a songbird on my crew.” You kept wiping away, refusing to look the clown's way.

“Really?” You questioned, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

“Really. I’ve never had a singer before--we could have special showcases. Buggy’s Singing Songbird!...nah. That’s no good.” He said like he was truly thinking about what the title of your act would be.

“Buggy’s Magnificent Songbird?” You offered, not truly thinking about what you were doing as you wiped down the stovetop. That funky laugh of his spilled from his red smudged lips. A funky little laugh that you very much liked because it was so unique. So out of the blue and so fitting.

“Buggy’s Spectacular Songbird.” You shot him a look to find his green-blue eyes were watching you full of excitement, that wide grin on his face once more.

“Buggy’s Stupendous Songbird.” You said it almost as a challenge.

“Extraordinary Songbird.” The pirate clown said, taking your challenge in an instant.

“Astonishing Songbird.” You said, moving on to wiping down the table Buggy sat on.

“Confounding.”

“Dazzling.” Buggy watched you as you scooped any leftover crumbles from the night's dinner into your hand, that smirk never leaving his lips. Lips you had to look away from before you started down a line of thinking you had been annoyingly keeping at bay ever since meeting the damn clown.

“Breathtaking Songbird.” Damn, and those lips looked so good moving the way they were. Lips you wondered would fit nicely against yours?

“Trying to get on my good side so you don’t have to go back into that bag?” You questioned, dumping the crumbs into the waste bin before tossing your rag into the sink, knowing you would wash it later.

“How’d you guess, songbird?” Buggy said after a longer-than-usual pause. You glanced his way as you opened the fridge, finding those green-blue eyes still watching you. Eyes that held no malice in them…eyes you nearly drowned in every time you looked into them for too long like you’d eaten some Devil Fruit.

On a clearing of your throat, you pulled the night’s leftovers out, grabbed a fork, and sat down at the table next to Buggy’s head.

“What did Blondy cook up this time?” Buggy grumbly asked as you opened the container of chilled food.

“I can’t remember. Some sort of noodle dish.” You said with a shrug, twirling some of the sauce-covered noodles onto the fork. “Sorry it's cold again, I don’t know how to work anything in here.” You mumbled, offering the cold noodles to Buggy who took it eagerly. You watched him chew as you twirled some more noodles onto his fork. “Any good?”

“Too fancy.” He said between a chew. You gave a huff in amusement, propping your elbow up on the table so you could rest your head in your hand.

You let your eyes roam over his features. Over clown-like make-up that was nearly rubbed completely off. Over his lips, which the bottom was just the tiniest bit fuller. Over those green-blue eyes you could get lost in for hours. Eyes lined by perfect lashes you silently envied every time you looked at them--or maybe you just envied them because it made him that much more attractive? Made it that much more hard to look away from him.

“Yeah…Sanji’s meant for bigger and better things than feeding a group of half-assed pirates.” You said once you had to all but physically remind yourself to. He gave a chuckle of his own after he swallowed.

“Why are you even following around that stretchy kid anyway? To be his maid?” You sat quietly as you fed him again, watching his stubble-covered jaw move as he chewed in a greedy sort of way you typically didn’t allow yourself to do.

You wondered if it would feel as sharp as it looked. Wondered if it was strong enough to leave a nice bruise on your neck…if it could bring you tumbling over a bliss-filled edge?

“He freed me.” You said simply, twirling more noodles as you distracted yourself from his face. Buggy’s eyebrows furrowed in question.

“Freed?” He said, his mouth still full of food. You narrowed your eyes down at him in a dramatic sort of fashion.

“It’s barbaric to speak with your mouth full, you know.” Buggy rolled his eyes for seemingly the hundredth time that night. A hundredth time you sure was not the last.

“I’m a pirate, songbird. I’m as much a barbarian as they come.” You huffed in amusement again, giving him another fork full of noodles. “Freed?”

“Being Luffy’s maid, as you so kindly put it, is much better than being locked up in a dusty cave.” Buggy watched you as he chewed. Watched you with such intent--curiosity. To your ever-growing surprise, Buggy stayed quiet even after he had swallowed. A quiet that singled his willingness to listen to you.

Did you want to tell him? This man who was horrible and brutal and crude and everything you shouldn’t want to be around.

But he was…fun to be around. You had never felt trapped around him--alone.

And your backstory wasn’t something to really keep secret…it just hurt to think about.

“I used to run with another crew of pirates a long time ago before I came here. My ship was ransacked by other pirates who had been working for some king on this tiny island. He paid them to find him labor to work his gem mines. My crew was just one of the many who became that labor. I was the only one to survive.”

Your mind wandered darkly back to those caves. To the horrible conditions and horrendous work. To the deaths of your friends--family. “Luffy saved me. I have no problems mopping the floors or deranged clowns to pay him back.” You offered the fork full of noodles you had been twirling. He took it.

“So you're saying I have no chance of getting you on my crew.” He said once he had swallowed, pulling a small smile to your lips. Humor. He used humor to lighten heavy situations and you couldn’t be more grateful for that. Because if you couldn’t laugh at the hurts in your life, then those hurts would eat you alive.

“You’re special showcasing of Buggy’s Singing Songbird is going to have to wait.”

“I thought we landed on breathtaking?” You shrugged.

“Some might say that’s too cliché.”

“My show? Cliché? Never.” It was your turn to roll your eyes then.

“Do you want any more?” You asked, gesturing towards the leftovers. He shook his head, an act that was strange seeing as he was just a head.

“Water?” He questioned as you packed up everything, giving a nod of your own.

“Where does all that food go anyway?” When Buggy didn’t immediately answer, you looked over your shoulder to see he was looking at you like you were stupid or something.

“My stomach?” He said in an equally “you’re stupid” tone.

“A stomach that’s not attached to your head.” You said, unbothered, pulling the fridge door open and placing the remaining leftovers back. “Does it magically teleport to your body? Collect in the base of your neck?”

“At the base--I fucking hope not.” Buggy gruffed, making you chuckle. “It teleports I guess. I don’t know, it’s not like I can ask anyone about it.”

“There’s not like--a Devil Fruit guidebook they give you upon getting your powers?” Buggy gave a sharp laugh as you went about washing the fork and putting it away.

“Yeah, fuck no. It’s sink or swim,” He gave another little laugh, “literally.” You huffed in amusement, grabbing a glass and filling it with water.

“I’m done for the night, I fear.” You said, knowing that meant he needed to be handed off to whoever had night duty soon, meaning he would be spending yet another night in that gross bag. Definitely spending the night in that bag since it was Zoro’s turn to take him.

When Buggy didn’t respond right away, you looked back at him and you’re heart paused for a moment. He was winching. Like he was getting hurt by some invisible assailant.

You’d caught him wincing and flinching like that before but hadn’t said a word about it. You knew he would just get defensive and close you off. Knew because he was a big, strong, fearsome pirate. Someone who would never just--open up like that.

But now…now as you watched him grit his teeth to try to bite back sound, you knew you needed to ask. Because you hated watching him like that. Hated it because you--deep, deep down, like the clown.

“Why do you keep doing that?” He snapped those green-blue eyes over to you, eyebrows narrow.

“I’m not doing anything.” He tried to hiss, but that last word was distorted from a pained sort of sound. A sound accompanied by another wince.

“Are you in pain?” You pressed, making your way to stand before him.

“Just put me back in the bag.” He bit, those walls you knew most pirates held, beginning to build up even higher. You stared down at him for a long moment.

You didn’t want him to close up on you. You hadn’t closed up on him.

“You think it was easy telling you about my shit? Just tell me what’s wrong.” You snapped, placing the water down next to his head with a clunk.

Buggy was quiet for a long moment, flinching and wincing as he thought about whether or not he would tell you.

“You can’t do anything about it. Not until we get to that fucking, walking-fish-infested island.” It clicked then. He could still feel his body. Could still feel what happened to it.

“They're hurting you?”

“Someone’s taken up using me as their pers--” He winced again, “--onal punching bag.” A cold anger flooded your chest. An anger you had already harbored for Arlong and his crew of fish-men for taking Nami away from you guys, but an anger that was only flamed to new heights by this new bit of information.

Because they were hurting him despite already having taken his body away. Using him as their entertainment.

It had you remembering back to that cave again. To how your ex-captors had done the same thing. It was not something anyone should go through.

You knew then that when you got to that island, those ruthless fish-men would become your own personal punching bag.

Buggy winched again, everting his eyes from you once more.

“You gonna put me away so I can suffer in peace already?” He gruffed out. You sat back down, green-blue eyes glancing your way. “What?” He snapped.

“What can I do? To help keep your mind off it?” You asked, gaining Buggy’s full, stunning gaze once more.

“Would…” He paused.

“Ask me. It’s okay.” Buggy gave a short huff.

“Would you…mind singing for me?” He asked, nerves very much clear in his voice. You blinked once, twice…

“Anything in particular?” Buggy looked almost surprised you were agreeing to his request, but you wanted to help him in some way. And you loved to sing, so singing for him--who had been an avid supporter of your voice since you met him--wouldn’t be hard at all.

“You hum a tune a lot…is there any lyrics?” You nodded.

“Yeah…it was my mother's favorite to sing to me before bed. Talks about two lovers who could never be together because one belongs to the night sea and the other belongs to the morning air.” Warmth filled your heart when you remembered those nights. Nights of being gently rocked by your mother as she held you tight, her soft voice lulling you to sleep.

“Can I hear it?” A toothless smile forms on your lips.

“Of course.” You crossed your arms, probing them up on the table so you could get comfortable. So that you could lean in closer to Buggy--to be able to see every tiny detail on his face.

And as you began to sing, you kept your voice soft--gentle, so that he might be the only one to hear you. As if you were whispering sweet nothings in your own lover's ear. And you watched as he watched you, his flinching still present but seeming to lessened by your distraction.

The distraction that was your song, your eyes, your lips. He watched every single part of your face like it was some treasure and it had your body heating in a way you hadn’t felt towards someone in a while.

When your song came to an end you both continued to watch the other. Continued to feel that heat that made you want to take his detached head and crash your lips onto his.

You tried to remind yourself he was a bad guy. That he had literally tortured your friends…but you all were pirates. Pirates, most if not all the time, were ruthless and cruel. You had been ruthless and cruel before joining Luffy--still was, though you buried deep down. It was a part of the life and it didn’t stop you from wanting to kiss this stupid clown.

“That was beautiful…shame I can’t show it to the world.” He said on a whisper. A whisper that only had you nearly absent-mindedly messing with the bits of his hair at the back of his neck that had come out of his bandana. A whisper that had you blushing like some teenager.

“What a shame.” You whispered back, watching his lips pull into the slightest smirk. Just as you were about to act on your thoughts, Buggy’s eyes winced once more. A wince that had your thoughts and intentions of kissing him dwindle away and turned to concern.

“I think someone’s playing darts now.” He said with a pained chuckle. “Gotta give them some credit, switching it up. I was getting bored.” You shook your head, readjusting his bandana. An action that had his eyes widening the slightest bit.

“If you can get bored of torture.” You said with a huff before picking him up.

“Back to the bag now, huh?”

“No.” You said without so much as a thought. “Zoro’s just going to throw you on the ground. You’ll stay in my room…just for tonight.” You said, so that he wouldn’t get too comfortable with the idea of staying with you even though you already knew you’d probably be carrying him back to your room most nights.

“I’m thinking you're trying to get on my good side now, songbird.” You rolled your eyes.

“Good side of what?”

“My wrath.” You shot him an unimpressed look that had him almost shrugging--if a head could shrug. “Thought I’d give it a shot at least.”

You quickly popped your head into Zoro’s room, who was eagerly climbing into his hammock-like bed. You telling him you were keeping Buggy’s head that night only roused suspicions from the green-haired man, but you were quick to cover it by saying he had had the clown for the longest that day and you wanted him to be able to get his beauty sleep. He’d hardly complained after that and you continued on your way to your room.

It was a smaller room, but compared to the living conditions you had been in for years before this ship, it was perfect. And it wasn’t like you were the only one to have a small room, Zoro’s and Usopp’s were no better. So it wasn’t something you thought of often.

You carefully climbed into your hammock-like bed so that you wouldn’t fall right out of it if it swung too violently, before placing Buggy on your chest. Seeing as there was nowhere else for him to really lay, this was the best and least awkward place for him to be.

“As soon as you make this weird, I’m throwing you on the ground.” He gave you a little suggestive wink.

“No promi--” You started to grab for him again. “AH--okay, yeesh…you’re boobs are very comfortable by the way.”

“You can’t help it, can you?” You said, in mock disbelief.

“Just telling it as it is, songbird.” That cheeky grin plastered on his lips. You rolled your eyes in a dramatic fashion you had seen him do more times than you could count.

“You better not snore.” You murmured, laying your head back and getting as comfy as you could while holding Buggy against you.

“You’ve heard me snore. You’ve whacked with a pillow for it.” You smirked as you remembered the last time it was your turn to watch him at night.

He was a loud sleeper.

“Go to sleep.” You said, closing your eyes. The clown gave a deep huff of air that tickled the little bit of exposed skin on your chest before falling silent. A silence you found you couldn’t fall asleep in. Not when you had Buggy laying on you like this. Not when his breath was making your skin prickle with goosebumps. “Buggy?”

“Yes?” He mumbled.

“Did you mean what you said or were you joking around?”

“I say a lot of things, songbird. You’re gonna have to be more specific.” You huffed, opening your eyes to find he actually had his closed. He looked peaceful like this. Like he didn’t have a worry in the world. But you supposed most people looked at peace when getting to sleep.

“About joining your crew?”

“Not everything I say is a joke, ya know.” He said, opening his eyes to look up at you. You shrugged, pulling the blanket up just a tad bit higher so that it could cover Buggy’s neck. “I’m serious about the showcase. It would bring people from miles around just to watch you perform.” You rolled your eyes.

“You mean your victims?”

“I prefer to call them un-willing participants who are thankful to get seats at my show.” You huffed in amusement, closing your eyes again. Buggy got comfortable once more against your chest and the air fell quiet…and again you hated that quiet. Couldn’t find sleep in that quiet.

“Buggy?” He grumbled in something like annoyance.

“Yes?” You opened your eyes to look down at him again, finding he was looking up at you with narrowed eyes. It had almost had you laughing, finding it was very much enjoyable to get on his nerves.

“Did you mean it?” His eyebrows rose in question.

“Mean what?” He gruffed.

“That you thought my mouth was amazing?” A mischievous smirk pulled to his own lips.

“Songbird, your mouth is amazing. I think your mouth would be even more amazing around--” You muffled his voice by covering his mouth with your blanket.

“And you took it too far.” You said, though you kept your little smirk on your own face. That same train of thought had crossed your mind before…crossed it many, many times.

You pulled the blanket away from his lips and found his own grin was still on his lips. Lips you wanted to kiss so, so badly.

“...you have a pretty amazing mouth too--for a filthy, dirty old pirate.” His smirk fell into that of dramatic shock.

“Hey! I’ll take filthy and dirty but old? Honey, you wouldn’t know old if it slapped you in the face. I’m in the prime of my life.” You looked over his face in a slow manner so that you might get under his skin further.

“Mm-hmm. If you can call getting your ass kicked and then getting carried around in a satchel bag by a bunch of young adults who hardly know how to be pirates the “prime of your life”.” Buggy huffed, rolling his eyes once more.

“You're a pirate. That orange-haired chick is a pirate. You’ve got a literal pirate hunter on your crew--I was outnumbered.” He said trying to give an excuse for getting his ass beat.

“Sure you were. It’s not like you had a whole crew to back you up or anything.”

“You’re hilarious.” He deadpanned. A tiny chuckle left your lips as you patted his cheek.

“I’m only learning from the best.”

“You think I’m the best?” You shook your head, closing your eyes for the third time that night. “Are you actually going to sleep this time?” You shushed him, making a small chuckle leave his lips.

Silence filled the room again. A deafening silence. You wiggled in your hammock to try and get comfortable, but nothing was working. So, with a frustrated huff, you grabbed hold of Buggy’s head again and turned onto your side, his face only inches away from your own thanks to the curve of the hammock.

You tried to keep your eyes closed…to not acknowledge just how close you were to him, but your body had a mind of its own and you were looking into those green-blue eyes once more. “Sorry.” You said quickly.

“Fine.” He said just as quickly, his eyes looking away from yours only so he could glance at your lips. You couldn’t help but do the same things.

Silence again filled the air. A silence full of foggy tension.

“Uh--Buggy?” You asked after a moment.

“Yes?” He asked on a whisper that had your body buzzing.

“What are you going to do once you get your body back?” You asked, moving your hand to all but cup his jaw so that you weren’t choking him out.

“Oh, you know…try to get back to my ship I suppose.” You nodded. The thought that you wouldn’t be able to carry him around anymore was almost…disappointing. A feeling you were the most surprised to feel out of everything else you felt towards him.

You started to rub your thumb over his stubble-covered jaw, finding it was as sharp as it looked. It was an act that had Buggy’s eyes widening in shock and you paused. “Sorry--”

“No--uh…it’s nice. You can keep doing it--if you want.” You instantly did, loving the feel of his skin against yours.

You wondered if anyone touched him like this? If he had ever been touched in such a manner? It wouldn’t have surprised you if no one had.

You tried to close your eyes again--tried to get some sleep, but it was no use. Your mind was wandering down a dirty path and Buggy being this close wasn’t helping. “Buggy?”

“Songbird?” Fuck and that stupid little nickname he had given you. It was so stupid and so dumb and you couldn’t help but love hearing him say it so much. Especially in that gruffing, whispering tone he used.

You moved that much closer to him. So close his forehead touched yours. You opened your eyes to find his green-blue ones were already watching you.

“Do you think it's…” You bit your lip. You couldn’t ask that. He didn’t want you to ask that…

“Ask me.” He said, eyes looking between your own and your lips in a way that made you all that much more willing to risk it all and ask him.

“Do you think it's weird that I find your mouth so amazing that I would want to kiss it?” A throaty chuckle rang through your ears.

“Do you think it’s weird that I want to kiss that amazing mouth of yours back?” You tried not to show the excited nerves racing around your body as you shook your head.

“No, I don’t think it's that weird.” That goofy grin pulled to his lips.

“So we both have amazing mouths that want to kiss each other…oh, what to do, what to do?” You couldn’t help the laugh that cut through your lips, your smile cracking to the surface.

“Gods, you’re so stupid.” You teased before pulling his face against yours and claiming those red-painted lips of his. Lips that weren’t all that surprisingly soft, seeing as his painted lips had protected them from the sun and wind--probably kept them very moisturized.

You kissed him near feverishly, Buggy kissing you back at just the same rate. Buggy’s tongue licked at your top lip in a silent question of entrance and you gladly allowed it, tongues dancing a dangerous battle for dominance. Dominance Buggy surprisingly won, even without the help of his body.

It was all-consuming and burned at your body in a way that had you wishing for more. A wish you knew you wouldn’t get unless you sailed to that fish-men-infested island and took his body back right then. You both pulled away, catching your breath.

“When you get your body back,” You said on a pant. “We’ll find someplace away from the others…see where this goes?” Buggy watched your lips for a moment, that smirk right back on those soft, soft lips.

“Songbird, when I get my body it’s going to be a struggle to not drag you away with me.”

#buggy live action #buggy one piece #buggy smut #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x y/n #buggy x you #captian buggy #one piece live action #opla #request #buggy request #songbird #divider by saradika

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dzpenumbra · 1 year ago

Text

7/11/23

Last night was horrible. I got 3 hours of sleep. I just fucking gave up and got up. I was so upset that I started writing a post for a mental health subreddit looking for some kind of advice on how to deal with this upstairs neighbor situation without being "the neighbor banging on the ceiling with a broom".

I didn't post it. I wrote like 10 paragraphs which, to anyone who has ever read this blog, knows that's pretty short for me... I deduced pretty clearly that if these people are waking me up through my box fan, my noise cancelling earbuds and white noise in the earbuds? There really aren't a lot of other options as far as sound reduction goes. That's just... where I'm at. So... the choices I have are...

Avoid the problem: relocate my sleeping spot - this is nearly impossible. My mom insisted I throw out my old mattress (which likely wouldn't fit in the rental car for the move) and she ordered me a Helix mattress which I lugged upstairs in its box. Okay, I mean... technically it would be possible for me to relocate the mattress, I'm not going to lie there... but it would be quite an undertaking and I would have to have my next steps well prepared. Then... what the fuck do I do with the loft space? ... Well... I could move my art studio up there... and I could just sleep in the main room. Use the main room as sorta... a studio apartment... and use the loft as my art workspace. The issue with this? My art space would be way the fuck away from my computer, so streaming art is out of the picture. Then I thought... well, what if I move my computer? My standing desk is way too heavy to bring upstairs. Like.. getting the mattress downstairs would be worlds easier than bringing the desk upstairs, and it would not be easy. Another option would be... basically abandoning the upstairs and just living downstairs. It just all feels a bit extreme.

Adapt: fix my sleep schedule - I don't really think I have a choice but to do this, honestly. Completely rearranging my entire house just because some people don't know how to like... take their shoes off... or walk softly before noon? It feels a bit extreme. But honestly... I feel so fucking stuck with this sleep thing.

So... let's talk about it. When I first moved here, I used to go out and smoke weed at like 4AM, then go right to bed. It would be dark out. I was a bit freaked out at first, but... I did it fine. I was watching those PTSD videos back then, ones on doing visualization of a safe place right before bed, and doing relaxation exercises. And it really did help. It's really the primary reason I made it through that transition as easily as I did.

So... what changed? Why am I scared to go to bed before dawn? Could it really be as simple as... Max died? And now I'm alone in the dark without a nocturnal partner to share the space with me? Could this just be a grief thing?

I guess we'll see. Honestly, I don't even know if it's going to be difficult. I don't even know if going to bed while it's still dark will be scary for me, honestly. It's been so long since I've even tried. There's just an invisible wall there. So... tonight will be a litmus test, we'll see what that wall really looks like.

I'm running on 4 hours of sleep. I stayed up until the maintenance guy came over, he was super friendly, the same dude that fixed my door (when the deadbolt wasn't latching) and did that inspection a few months ago. He was in and out really quick, just took a look at it, said he'd order the new part and try to get over here tomorrow to fix it. Fingers crossed. I'm going to make sure we test run it so he can see if it's wobbling and make sure he keeps that fucker tight as a drum so we don't have this problem again. I'd do it myself but I don't have a 15' ladder on hand and... to be frank... it's not my fucking job. :) Ahhh it's so relieving to finally be able to say that. HOLY SHIT. <heavy sigh of relief> Dude, when you are in isolation, living completely alone for extended periods of time... you start noticing pretty quick that if you want something done... you need to do it yourself. Not because you're the best person for the job, or because someone else might fuck it up, or you're the one who will do it well or you will do it the quickest... rather, if you don't do it... it doesn't get done. And that was fucking super eye-opening in the way I interacted with others... others who were omega-codependent. The ones who would constantly shame and guilt me for asking for help with super simple stuff. They all had people around to give them a helping hand, but they were too proud to ask for it. Pride. The most dangerous of sins, because it is the root of so many other ones, and it can also be connected to virtue in the right light... so it can often fly by undetected. But this... this manifestation is not a nice one. It's people who dedicate huge amounts of energy to hiding their problems, even from themselves, rather than admit that they need help. Those are the ones who I guaranteed would not get a finger lifted from, because - in their logic - "no one helps me..." Well... is it a coincidence that they never ask?

After years and years of being on this proverbial island, doing everything possible myself because I lack the income to hire others and I struggle with a big trauma/anxiety wall trying to make new friends, I'm finally in a position where I have assistance (reliable assistance) available to me. It feels very... secure. I feel cared about. Even though I'm just one of many many many people in this building, I still feel like... if something goes wrong, they will have my back. And that is a very new feeling outside of therapy, where it is contractually obligated. And here, I mean... it's contractually obligated too... but they're still nice people.

So yeah, the dude looked at the fan, he's going to come by either tomorrow or the day after. I did yoga, I ate, I drank a pot of coffee. Then I took an hour nap. I passed right out. And I woke up with this fucked up taste in my mouth. I still don't know what exactly caused it, but I had some really old Neon Sharpies I was drawing with on the string lights I was customizing today and that chemical smell matched the taste pretty close. Maybe I had some on my fingers and they made their way into my mouth in my sleep? I don't know. But yeah, I spend the rest of the evening doing designs on those lights, which is coming out pretty damn cool. And preparing the beads, which came out pretty damn cool. The green ones are definitely pale, but they came out more of a subdued lemon lime yellow-green, which is totally cool by me. They look great, I'm happy with them. I went back and forth on whether I wanted to put symbols on them individually, or decorate them further... but I still wasn't sure about medium, or what symbols... yeah... so I decided to hold off on that and just run this batch and do something more ornate on another batch. I just wanna keep things moving and let my inspiration inspire new pieces rather than alter current ones. I think it's a good plan.

So... I got the first layer of tung oil on the plain beads, the green ones, the blue ones, and two beads painted with Posca opaque paint pens that I was going to do test runs with acrylic sealer on. I want to see how they do with the oil. I'm very curious to see how that turns out. They should be fine, I'm just... I'd prefer to do a test run. And if that works well, that's a big win because that ink does not soak into the wood, so I can do very detailed ornamentation with those. Just using ink, even just archival ink like Micron pens, will soak into the wood and you risk what we used to call in tattooing "blowouts", where the ink just... blows out... it spreads and bleeds unintentionally. These paint pens won't do that, which is super nice.

So yeah, they're soaking up their first coat. I skipped the display table today because I didn't want to sand it. I can coat it any time, it's not a big deal. And I skipped exercise today because I'm running on two days worth of fumes. I didn't want to push myself too far. Next day is the last one on the workout plan, so that's a milestone. I'll search for a new workout and revisit the meal planner tomorrow.

But yeah, now it's 2:30 AM and I'm lined up to go start getting ready for bed. Fingers crossed things go well. This is gonna be like... sleeping somewhere new for the first time, with how long it's been. But I really need to remember... it's not new... it's a return to how things were. And the big sell? If I get to sleep now? There's a smaller time window where those people upstairs will be able to wake me up.

We'll see how things go.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of thoughts #stream of consciousness

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triple-double-trouble · 2 years ago

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Event: Siblings Of Despair

When you awoke, you were in a room that wasn't your own. It was a room that perfectly matched your talent (if you have one), and a plain room, if not. There's only one way to go upon exiting, and upon following it, you find a bunch of pairs. Many that look alike. Some that don't. At least four of the ten pairs are obviously twins. They don't seem to notice your arrival just yet, arguing amongst themselves.

"Just do it! God, what's your damage?! Not listening to your big sister?! Break down the door or else! Hmph!"

"I-I'm sorry, Big Sis...! I-I've already tried...! Please, please don't h-hate me...!"

She seems very timid and shy, especially compared to her obvious twin who seems just outright verbally abusive toward her.

"FUCKIN' FINALLY! IT'S BEEN TOO DAMN LONG SINCE A KILLING GAME HAPPENED LIKE THIS!"

The woman was recognizable as Junko Enoshima, the girl who had nearly ended the world in the midst of her fetishistic quest to throw herself into the depths of despair. She even murdered her own twin sister to do so! But said twin sister seemed to be right beside her...

"Junko Enoshima. I... can't say that I'm entirely pleased to be in front of you right now. But I have to ask... did you do this? Bring us all here, I mean..."

The girl was standing beside a boy that appeared slightly older and more mature than her, but they appeared around the same age. Brother and sister, maybe?

"Hah! I wish! But sadly, nope! I've got nothing to do with this! Honest! But I think this is gonna be fuuuuuuun!"

"...Riiiiiiight... Anyway, let's start trying to find the way out of here, yeah? I plain don't want to spend anymore time remembering this than I absolutely have to."

"Awwwwww, I thought you were a fan of mine~? I've heard quite a lot about you, Miss Tsumugi Shirogane... My precious informant of a sister told me allllllll about you~."

The black-haired girl beside Junko nods, confirming her younger twin's story.

"O-Of course not! I used to be, but not anymore! You killed innocent people and enslaved countless others! You probably kick innocent puppies for fun, you plain psycho!"

"Everyone, cease your bickering at once! It appears we have an audience! Do clean up your attitudes and please refrain from acting like such children again, understood?! I am not present here to mother you all like toddlers!"

She huffs and walks off, leaving her identical twin brother by himself.

"This is a mess... Uh... Hi. Guess we're all stuck here together. Make this easy and give us all your name and talent and stuff."

...

(( Feel free to ignore, interact if not tagged, or ask for your tag to be removed! Blogs with Kokichi or Kotoko as a muse DNI! If your muse has a sibling or another family member you'd like to use, feel free to include them, if you'd like! The following are in this event: the Ouma twins, the Akamatsu twins, the Shirogane twins, Junko/Mukuro, Yuta/Aoi, Kanade/Hibiki, Monaca/Rantaro, Komaru/Makoto, Fuyuhiko/Natsumi, Sayaka/Sumire. ))

...

@unknown-ultimates / @human-monokuma @theultimateactress @the-robot-family @ anyone else! Enjoy~!

#hibiki otonokoji #kanade otonokoji #junko enoshima #komaru naegi #🪡 tsumugi shirogane 🪡#👑 kohana ouma 👑#🎲 kokichi ouma 🎲#Event: Siblings Of Despair

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steve0discusses · 2 years ago

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S5 Ep 41: Shada Defenseless Against Old Man

Hey guys apparently Twitter got freakin destroyed? Everyone’s coming back to Tumblr, and just in time for me to actually update this blog in my long covid brain fog daze! (a daze which, PS, lead me to think I uploaded this yesterday. LMAO I did not upload this yesterday, you win again, Long Covid) I didn’t feel like breaking today’s episode into 2 parts today. But also, this episode is blessed for having a lot of a card fight in it, which makes these posts a fair bit quicker for me to make.

First off, Mana joins the battle basement, and she does so by just jumping down a hole in the ceiling, onto this pillar, and then onto the floor--actually baffling how she did this.

Girl, at this point just fly down.

Eventually, everyone else arrived in Battle Basement, but they did so through the door that Mana blissfully ignored.

(read more under the cut)

They took a moment to admire their dead friend floating above them, in purple cosplay spandex.

And then, seemingly miffed that Mahad was getting more attention than him, Seto decided to interrupt the welcome back party before it ever got started.

Which I dunno, Seto has seen a lot of dead people in his life, his whole village was leveled by like 3 guys with torches, so maybe he just doesn’t care to believe in reincarnated people as cards. Maybe that would bother him and he’d just rather not think about it?

For some reason, Aknadin also came on this adventure, which is something I didn’t really notice the past few episodes, and being real, it was probably very obvious but my tired ass brain couldn’t quite remember that Aknadin still exists and is a guy who is very much trying to murder the Pharaoh. So of course he’s here. And having a hard time because of the fact he’s killed everyone in Kul Elna and now they are ghosts who are not happy to see him back.

Shada, who seems to take care of Aknadin more than anyone else, was there to save him. Which leaves me to wonder if Shada was Aknadin’s caretaker. Like literally his caretaker, or assistant, or something like that. Because it sure as hell hasn’t been Seto who keeps directing this guy back to bed.

While he’s there, the ankh keyblade started to vibe.

And I was like “Oh, is Shada finally going to get it? Is he finally going to realize that Aknadin’s been possessed by evil vibes since last Tuesday or whenever he was attacked by Bakura?”

Obviously no, this is Shada we’re talking about. So instead, he beelines to some abandoned (ware)house to look for some demons.

And since I was expecting this to go to nowhere, I was surprised to see this down in the icky basement.

Like I’ll be real, did not expect Shada to pull through and be this effective at his job. Like damn. The one time we needed him to do his job he actually did it, and he found diabound. Actually a miracle.

Like either Bakura took all the skulls of his village and stuck them together, or a ghost did it. Doesn’t actually say who assembled the skull art. But I would like to believe that Bakura was the one who gave the Diabound that adorable little kitty cat frowny face.

And this next part was I think edited by 4kids or whoever is in charge of this season’s translation. Because what I saw was him go “ahhhhh” and then Shada fell forward, and Aknadin’s just holding a whole ass brick. There was no shot of him being beaned by the brick, but just trust me, he was beaned by a brick. Or Aknadin slapped him in the ass with a brick so hard Shada nearly died, it is off-screened so you can make up whatever you want.

There wasn’t really animation to this sequence so trust me on it, it was goofy, it was great, Love it when Shada got bopped by a brick and didn’t save the world.

A bunch of ghosts picked up Shada’s body, and then I guess he got shoved into the Diabound statue at this point. Honestly, I missed that somehow. Probably happened at some point in the fighting sections, I was confused, but I still have long covid so I’m always confused. Which honestly makes this show a lot more entertaining when wild stuff happens and I just don’t catch the very obvious forshadowing.

So now that’s happened, lets join in with Yugi and crew in the desert.

They would be dying but they can’t technically die in the sideways Shadow Realm or whatever this pocket dimension is. Instead they just get very, very hungry, although they cannot actually eat anything. Which does explain why Bakura is so freakin hungry for snacks and ate everything in Kaiba’s blimp when they weren’t looking at the end of S3.

Then Tristan decided “Hey guys if this is a hallucination, shouldn’t we stop taking it so seriously, and instead look for the Forbidden Memories™?”

And for some reason the person who drew Tristan this episode made him look straight up possessed. Like almost as if he’s a big 5 all over again. I have no idea why this happened, I have no idea why he even spoke so intensely this episode, but Tristan kind of went a little evil and no one cared.

And this part was mostly for myself trying to remember what the hell is going on. Like, I was forgetful before, but now I am like Pharaoh tier forgetful. Like I fully get why he forgot his own name. Guy died. Like I got the flu 5 months ago and look how forgetful I am. Pharaoh freaking DIED.

But also he did it on purpose to hide away Korbus or whatever his name is. Kronx? Krakus. Zork. It was Zork. No. It was Zorc. It was Zorc with a c to make it copyright friendly. We got there.

Still got it, yeah yeah yeah.

It is a funny thought that had Bakura not gone to jail, he would have murdered Pharaoh before Seto did it, or I dunno, maybe he would have moved on with his life. But, because he was so freaking pissed off in jail in 3000 BC, his spirit possessed a bunch of people before landing back here in a vengeance hallucination 5000 years later.

Like we don’t know too much about the Bakura of the past, since he’s largely possessed by the ghost of the ring, but damn that kid must have had an ENERGY.

please admire how much Joey has to hunch over just to speak to Yugi in the same frame. Storyboarder’s still got it.

And I may have mentioned this before but yes, I know Pharaoh’s name, it pops up as a recommended hashtag whenever you use Pharaoh in a tag.

Bro did bring up that if we follow the Seto naming convention, however, Atem would be “Atemo.” Which is very good.

And then Past!Odion, who’s name is COMPLETELY forgotten by my brain, pulled out the millennium scales! We have barely seen these things used in this series, I was excited for something to happen!

And it was just monster fusion.

I guess he uh...doesn’t know it can weigh your literal soul and kill you in an instant, but it’s fine. We’ll leave that to Shada of the future when he becomes a burn out and calls himself Shadi.

Pharaoh sees his friends fall one by one (except for Shada who, as mentioned, got beaned in the basement by a brick and is currently trapped in the Diabound) and decides it’s time to do the Yami thing and beg for his attacker to kill him during a card game ghost fight.

So Bakura gladly opens the gate of hell so that Pharaoh can get destroyed by ghosts.

And we get this hard-to-cap segment where we see into Pharaoh’s mind, where he is protected by the spirit of his father.

Kids TV is great. Like if I weren’t so Long Covid I’d dive more into it, but like knowing that your ancestors may (or may not) have cried big ol tears because of atrocities of generations past doesn’t actually make your problems go away. Yet I can understand where they are coming from, where Yami can’t actually change the past, and he does have to do his job as Pharaoh, even though his Uncle ruined their royal reputation which lead to his Father’s death.

Like Pharaoh really is doubting his own ability to be a leader and to use these items, and it is partially his lack of experience, but also because he truly doesn’t think he deserves it. And he does not. He was not voted in. But, he does have to do it, because that’s how the system works in his day and age. And if he does not do it, Egypt falls to bandits and warring countries

Must be difficult to be a Pharaoh, who up until now, only knew Democracy in Japan, and then suddenly has to inherit a Monarchy he fundamentally should not really believe in, despite the jokes I sometimes make in the contrary.

So because the ghosts of Kul Elna were exorcised (except for Bakura) Shada shluuuurps out of this rock tablet and I had to pause the video and go.

“OK when did THAT happen????”

Because, again, I totally missed that he got shoved in there in the first place.

And mind you, I watch these first with my bro, then I watch it again to do these caps. This was the SECOND time I watched the episode and only just got that. LMAO I miss my brain.

And then the tablet explodes because without the ghosts, we can kill it.

And no, Shada did not die here, although I truly thought this was the episode he’d die in and become a ghost. or maybe he’s already a ghost. Either way, Shada lives to see another day, although gotta tell you this day was really freakin weird.

Anyway, next episode I guess we’ll see what Bakura does without his spooky tablet covered in skulls, since he only had one pokemon, as far as I know.

And, in the mean time, here is the link to read all of these in chrono order

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

#yugioh #YGO #Yu-Gi-Oh #S5 #Ep 41 #Yugi Muto #Yami Muto #Seto Kaiba #Bakura #Theif King Bakura #preist seto #Shada #Other people were here I'll be real I just need to post this thing before I forget again #Egypt

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ladyanput · 3 years ago

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Ok so this is the third time that I'm sending you an ask tonight. (or is it night time in your country?) I'm being annoying right now but whatever. So I've been cackling about those salt fics you wrote because they are just amazing. I have a request, though it is up to you to write it or not. So, can you write a salt fic where someone got an interview with Ladybug (probably Aurore) and then they ask her why they replaced the old heroes like Rena Rouge, Carapace and etc. and LB is just like I don't work with dumb shits or somethin'. Then there is also a new Black Cat (Probably Luka, Felix, or Damian) because Adrien here is an asshole and this fic is saltier than salt water. Then LB also insults Alya's blog and their school. Those foolish mortals get some lawsuits and the rest is up to you. (This request is probably messed up since it's already midnight here and I can't sleep.)

You're never annoying, I just apologize that it took me so long to get to you. I do hope you don't hold it against me, darling.

A one on one interview with Ladybug was basically unheard of if you weren't the Ladyblog or Nadja Chadwick. Ladybug had made it firm that she wasn't a celebrity, she was a hero. She wasn't there for clout, for attention, for fame or fortune. She just wanted to keep Paris safe.

That's was Aurore admired about her. And why she felt queasy as she sat across from the heroine, who had given her of all people an interview. But she got ahold of herself, taking deep breaths as the cameraman began counting down. And when he hit 'one', she put on her best smile and straightened in her seat.

"Hello Paris! Welcome back to 'Latest Buzz'! I am your lovable host, Aurore Beauréal. Today I am here with a very, very special guest, our very own heroine of Paris; Ladybug!"

Ladybug beamed right at the camera, but gave a shy little wave, giving away the nerves she obviously had.

"Now, Ladybug, I'm so glad you requested to be on the show. You know, I initially thought I had misheard when Estelle told me. Usually you're not big on personal interviews." Aurore gave her full attention to Ladybug, but keeping the bright, friendly smile and perfect posture.

"Well, I tried a few times actually. But when I did, none of them were really great experiences." Ladybug admitted and both girls immediately thought of that disastrous Face-to-Face interview. It left a bitter taste in their mouths. "My issue is that misinformation has been spread around a lot recently. It's made me realize that I need to find more trustworthy sources."

"Ladybug. I vow on my integrity as a host and Estelle's reputation as a journalist that we are people who research facts. We don't ambush our guests, we respect them." She said, placing a hand on her heart. Ladybug saw an honesty in her eyes that she hadn't seen in such a long time. It honestly made her feel.. Respected. "Now, Ladybug.. We both know you have a lot of fans. A lot of admirers. False information can be spread so easily these days, which sources specifically are you telling people to avoid?"

"Well.. With Face-to-Face, I found that I was entirely ambushed in that interview. I wanted to speak about my hero work, but instead Nadja kept trying to needle her way into my personal life. That picture she had shown in largely out of context; when Dark Cupid attacked and Chat Noir was under his spell, it was the only way to get him free."

"Yes, I remember watching that. I'll be honest Ladybug, I felt bad for you." Aurore bit her lip, but smiled a bit when Ladybug nodded. "I mean, Chat Noir wasn't helping either. He seemed to be trying to push this narrative forward that you two are a couple."

"And we're not!" Ladybug burst out before she could stop herself. Everyone in that studio could hear the utter stress and frustration in her voice. "I've begged and begged Chat Noir to stop with the flirting, the 'telling people we're dating', everything! I just wanted him to focus and he couldn't seem to do that!"

"Is that why you replaced him? Because of his slacking off and refusing to take anything seriously?" Aurora sat up an bit straighter, her eyes going wide.

".. Not exactly, no. It was a bunch of issues that eventually piled up and boiled over." Ladybug made some gestures with her hands, trying her hardest to find the words but just letting out a long and pained sigh in the end. "I do enjoy my new partner now. He is more serious, more stable. I know he won't go off and pout if I deny something he wanted. I needed an entirely new team, as a matter of fact."

"Well I am going to say, on behalf of everyone here, that we're glad. We swear on our integrity as journalists that if such rumours were to ever surface again, we will do our proper research." Aurore beamed and many of the staff and crew behind the cameras nodded and gave Ladybug their thumbs up. Honestly, it warmed Ladybug's heart to see such support.

When had been the last time someone had supported her like this? Sure, her parents supported her, but her friends..? Her peers? No, none of them had supported her in a long time.

"Speaking of research, I'd say to stay away from the Ladyblog." It burned to say it but it had to be said. Alya had crossed so many lines it wasn't even forgivable at this point. She had gone too far, had betrayed too many.

"Wait, what?" Aurore nearly jumped out of her seat but quickly composed herself, taking a deep breath. "Pardon me Ladybug, but the Ladyblog has been a vital source of information since the very beginning."

"And I'm not denying that!" Ladybug quickly held up her hands, her eyes desperate now. "But please let me explain. The Ladyblog was amazing in the beginning, but like all things, it started to go astray. It was things like trying so hard to find out my identity. Trying to push that narrative of that whole superhero couple thing.. Ladyblogger Alya Césaire has proven time and time again that she is not trustworthy. I mean, I thought she was my biggest fan. Why does she keep pushing my words aside?"

Many people who watched the interview would agree. If you idolized someone, respected someone, truly looked up to them.. Why would you push aside their words, their wishes to try and push the narrative you're so convinced is true, but isn't there?

"And don't get me started on the whole Lila Rossi craze she seemed to be on now." At Ladybug's mention of Lila Rossi, both Estelle and Aurore had to keep from rolling their eyes. They knew all about the girl.

"You speak as if you are quite frustrated, Ladybug. What an odd reaction to your best friend." Aurore leaned forward a bit in her seat. Everyone else got to the edge of theirs. Ladybug only shook her head, looking utterly defeated.

"That's the thing, she isn't my best friend." It took everything to keep from satin that she hated her, that she had taken away her friends and her life. "The only times she's met Ladybug is when she's been akumatized, which has been around six or seven times at this point. And the other things she's claiming are so outlandish! Saving Jagged Stone's kitten from a airport runway? Clara Nightengale stealing her dance moves? And the Ladyblog just posts it out there, claiming every single story is true. I'm just scared that people are taking this one hundred percent seriously. That's why I had to drop Rena Rouge and Carapace from the team as they believed Lila Rossi over me. They didn't even try to confirm these rumours! And it hurts to think that one day, someone will take Lila's words seriously and get hurt. What if she says it's safe to dip strawberries in bleach? Or tells someone that she found a way to tame some kind of wild animal? Someone would get hurt because they believe her story and try it out for themselves!"

"My goodness, I can definitely see how that is a problem. Misinformation is very easy to spread thanks to the internet, so you being worried is a very relatable thing." Aurore nodded, then tilted her head ever so slightly. "Ladybug, do you know anyone who has taken her word seriously? This is besides the Ladyblog of course."

Ladybug closed her eyes briefly, mentally debating with herself before finally giving in. These things needed to be said.

"Collège François DuPont. Now I wasn't there personally, but I heard about this situation and looked into it. The entire situation was appalling. Apparently a student was found to have cheated, assaulted another student, and commited thievery. But the thing that stuck out is only one person saw her do all of these things; Lila Rossi. No investigation was done, no questioning other students. This student was then expelled immediately. Her teacher and her principal didn't even give her a chance. And from what people have been saying, Miss Rossi's behaviour is actively encouraged in that school. She misses countless days, no, months of school, claiming she's traveling. But when she was supposedly in Achu, doing whatever it was she was claiming with Prince Ali, I was fighting her akuma here in Paris on Heroes Day!"

"I was at school the day that happened. I knew the student that happened to. They're the nicest person in that school! Never a bad thing to say about anyone, always willing to help! I agree with you on how things were handled, it's a level of incompetence that is baffling." Aurore's hands slowly curled into fists as she remembered it all. She slowly shook her head. "The principal, their teacher, their class who backed up Rossi. It must have hurt them so much, made them feel so alone."

"That's why I want people to be more careful with what information they take as fact. It's so important, because stuff like that can lead people to a desperate place. They feel alone, like the entire world is against them. I wouldn't have let the principal and the teacher get away with that gross negligence in their jobs." Ladybug leveled her gaze directly to the camera. "People of Paris, please listen to what I am saying. I am here to be a hero, to protect you from the terror of Hawkmoth and to defeat him. But please, do not be like Principal Damocles, do not be like that teacher and her class at DuPont. Do your research, look up your facts. Do not let a liar lead you to do something dangerous and hurt yourself as well as others. Respect each other, talk and be honest. I swear on my life that I shall do the same. You are the people I swore to protect and I love. I am saying this all to protect you. And I'll hope you'll all forgive me for not protecting you sooner."

...

The interview rocked Paris. Ladybug speaking so openly about her frustrations, about the discrepancies in the Ladyblog and Lila Rossi had many people double checking the sources of everything they learned from that blog.

Alya could barely show her face as she made her way though the school hallways. Her reputation as a journalist had gone down the drain. People had basically started boycotting her blog, harrassing her, or trash talking her on other forums and sites. Even a lot of news outlets picked this up.

What hurt the most from that interview last night was Ladybug's words towards her, both as Rena Rouge and as Alya. Surely the heroine had to be mistaken, she had never beytrayed Ladybug! And that Oblivio incident, it was just to show Chat Noir and Ladybug that they were meant to be together!

Her family was upset with her. No, upset was too tame of a word. They were pissed.

"I can't believe she lied to us.."

"Well what do you expect from someone who keeps harrassing Ladybug?"

Alya flinched when she heard the whispers and rushed into Miss Buster's class. The entire class was there, all seated, all looking utterly miserable. Many of them looked as if they had been crying all night. A lot like she had.

"W-where's Miss Bustier?" Alya asked when she eyed the empty desk. Many of her classmates shot her glares, but didn't say anything about the interview last night. After all, they had no room to talk.

"She and Principal Damocles are with the school board now. We're getting a new teacher." Adrien was the one that spoke up. He looked utterly miserable. So unlike his usual self.

"Lila isn't coming back. She was pulled from school when her mother found out what happened." Alix muttered from her seat, arms crossed and shoulders hunched.

The class went quiet as they all internally contemplated how things had gotten like this. Their eyes focused on the door when it abruptly opened and Marinette came strolling in, carrying a box.

"Good morning everyone!" She said brightly, pretending not to notice the downcast expressions on their faces. She set the box on the teacher's desk before she turned towards them. "Oh? What's wrong everyone?"

".. Did you not watch the interview with Ladybug on 'Latest Buzz'?" Alya stared at Marinette, a bit dumbfounded by her friend's lack of awareness of the situation. She had been expecting Marinette to rush in with support and a fiery vengeance against those who had humiliated her best friend, maybe even a fresh pastry. But instead she was greeted with empty hands and a cheerful hello?

"Oh, well I haven't really had the time to watch much television. I mean, with my transfer papers, needing to plan out my new schedule with all of those new classes. Busy as a bee, that's me!" Marinette just beamed, giving Adrien a playful wink that had his stomach churning.

"Wait, transfering?" It was Rose that spoke up, her large eyes seeming impossibly large now. "Transfer what?"

"To my new school, of course." Marinette giggled and clasped her hands together. "I start on Monday."

"New school?!" Alya was on her feet and rushing towards Marinette. The others quickly followed, crowding around her. "What do you mean new school?! When did you ever say you were going to a new school?"

Marinette blinked, as if stunned, then tilted her head ever so slightly.

"I told you all last week, don't you remember?" Marinette tapped her lower lip, seeming to be wracking her brain before she abruptly snapped her fingers. "Oh! I forgot, you all were deep in conversation with Lila about her upcoming event with Jagged Stone and Clara Nightengale. You know, the one she said she'd be attending with Ladybug, since they're such good friends. Did she ever say how it went?"

All of the students shifted uneasily, suddenly seeming to refuse to meet her face.

Alix murmured something so barely audible, Marinette held a hand to her ear and leaned closer.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Lila was lying to us!" Alix snapped as her cheeks went a flaming red.

"About everything! She never knew Jagged Stone!" Juleka spat out in fury.

"Or Prince Ali!" Rose sniffled.

"And she wasn't friends with Ladybug? They were barely acquaintances!" Alya wailed out as tears welled up in her eyes.

But Marinette hardly reacted the way they were expecting. She just gave them a small smile and nodded.

"Oh, yeah. I know."

Alya sucked in a breath sharply.

"You knew..? But why did you never..?"

"Oh Alya, you silly forgetful thing. I told you the day she returned from her long 'trip', remember? I told you she was lying." Marinette gave Alya a smile that said 'oh you silly thing'. "But you told me that I should really check my sources. And I got tired of trying to bring up any lies, since that was always your response. So I decided to just stop. I mean, since you're such an inspiring, honest journalist you must double and triple check every source you come across and found every story to be true!"

Alya flinched and looked away, feeling the churning feeling in her gut again. No, the Ladyblog had been the only source for the stories. The. Only. One.

"And I'm sure all of you knew what you were doing! I mean, it makes sense; trusting the words of a complete stranger over someone you've known for a while now. Some of you since we were in diapers!" She focused her gaze on Nino and Kim, who had the grace to at least look ashamed.

"Marinette, you really should-" Adrien began, reaching out for the girl, but was cut off by her clapping her hands together.

"But it's alright! I decided that fighting with you all wasn't worth it, so I took Adrien's advice and took the high road! Don't bother exposing Lila, she isn't hurting anyone!" Marinette announced brightly, giving her hands a little wave.

The temperature in the classroom dropped by several degrees.

".. Adrien, she's kidding, right?" Nino glanced over at his friend, his eyes pleading for him to deny it all. But the sight of the blood draining from the model's face and the sweat starting to bead at his forehead told him everything he needed to know. "Dude.."

"How could you?! You knew this entire time and didn't even try to tell me?!" Alya rounded on Adrien, fury in her eyes.

"Now, now, don't get mad at Adrien. I'm sure he knew you all were going to do you research. Besides, it's not like this did anything bad for anyone." Marinette pressed a hand to her cheek, still grinning. "I mean, it's not like you all took her advice without doing any research. You didn't try the things she suggested without actually checking them out to be true, right? No one lost any scholarships or job opportunities. No one's relationships were ruined. No one was hurt."

The nauseous feeling spread to all of the class as the reality of everything caught up with them.

"I'm sure everything will go back to normal, right? I mean, I'm sure that that woman from the education bureau isn't here to fire Damocles and Bustier for their severe neglect in their duties. Expelling me with the most mediocre and shaky proof. Surely that's a school I should feel safe in! That I should be proud to be a part of. But alas, my preparations for my new school are already done, so oh well."

Marinette shrugged and adjusted her purse strap.

"Anyhow, I wish you all luck with the amazing things Lila has helped you to do! I know it must have been worth ignoring me and convincing me I was crazy. With all of the free time I've had, with you guys practically replacing me with Lila in the group, I've had tons of time to spend with my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?!" Alya's eyes went owlishly wide as she gaped at Marinette. "But what about Adrien?!"

"Oh Alya, I fell out of love with Adrien forever ago." Marinette shook her head in an almost patronizing way that had Alya's cheeks burning with embarrassment. They didn't even pay attention to Adrien's noises of surprise. "I mean, you claimed I was jealous of Lila getting close to Adrien, that I should let the jealousy go. And you know what? You were right! So I decided Adrien wasn't worth the stress, the embarrassment.. I mean, I couldn't even talk to him straight. I thought he was the most perfect guy in the world! Goodness, did I learn my lesson!"

She giggled as if she found the entire thing amusing. She then beamed at the class.

"Well, ta-ta! I need to get back home and make sure everything is ready to go. I wish you all the best, I really do!"

They all watched, shellshocked as Marinette breezed out of the classroom like it was nothing. Like she wasn't leaving her friends, her school, her life behind. And they all would wonder exactly how badly they screwed up, if she could walk away do easily, without a care.

Permanent Taglist: @vixen-uchiha @ravennightingaleandavatempus @2sunchild2 @crazylittlemunchkin @bee-wrecker @souleateralicestein @loysydark @kceedraws @realrandomposts @alienjoyful

Salt Taglist: @virgil-is-a-cutie @sidessunnybumblebee @persephonebutkore @18-fandoms-unite-08 @suzen23smith @luciferge @theelventhgod @noirdots @space--butterflies @ghostglaceon @magicalfirebird @goggles-mcgee @chocolate1721 @minightrose @bookcrazybby @cupcakeandkisses @mewwitch @adrestar

#ml salt #miraculous salt #alya salt #lila salt #marinette deserves better

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todoscript · 4 years ago

Photo

SYNOPSIS: Years of memories pouring out, Katsuki and Shouto confront their feelings for you in your very hospital room.

pairing(s): bakugou katsuki x fem!reader, todoroki shouto x fem!reader

genre: angst.

word count: 4.5k+

warnings: really self-indulgent fic, characters are aged-up, implied sexual content, mentions of drinking alcohol, jealousy, reader identifies as female with she/her pronouns,

author’s note: so i found this pretty old wip i wrote before i made my blog, and after reading it over, i decided hey why not publish it? so i finished it up, did some cleaning, and heres what we got. sorry if it seems kind of shaky, i did my best with what i initially had!

“Bakugou… what are you doing here?”

Shouto enters the room with freshly bought peonies in his hands—one of the many dozen he had brought to this hospital already—his steps coming to a halt at the sight of the Explosion Hero near your hospital bed. Katsuki looks up and narrows his eyes, aggravated by the offender’s question.

“What? You got a fucking problem with me being here?” He keeps his voice low, not wanting to disturb the entire hospital wing, knowingly admitting to how loud he could be. But that doesn’t suppress the bite in his tone.

“Just because you’re her fucking boyfriend doesn’t mean you’re the only one that’s allowed to worry about her,” he nearly spits, and Shouto’s face mirrors Katsuki’s own irked expression.

You have been unconscious for a week now. The cause of this incident was due to your encounter with a dangerous villain who had been wanted by the police for quite some time. Months of evading capture down the drain, the villain had unfortunately ran into you as you patrolled the streets during your nightly shift.

In the end, you won the fight, but at the cost of damage done to your body and overuse of your quirk. As a result, you entered an unconscious state, recovering in this hospital bed to be monitored by medical staff throughout each day. The doctors assured them that you would eventually wake up but will need time to heal on your own through rest.

Ever since the day you’ve been admitted here, Shouto has been visiting your bedside. However, this is the first time Katsuki’s shown up.

Shouto only points a glare to the blond, ignoring him while he sets his bouquet down next to your bed. He notices the already present vase of hydrangeas, surmising that Katsuki must have brought them. He places his bundle of peonies beside them.

The dual-haired man sits on the opposite side of the bed from Katsuki, whose attention is brought back to the girl’s sleeping face, patched with wraps and bandages as a result of your tribulations with the villains.

If I had finished my jobs quicker, I would’ve been able to see you the moment you had to stay in this damn hospital. The thoughts ring in Katsuki’s head, hands clenched into fists out of frustration.

Knowing you had to deal with that whack job of a villain on your own—that your overprotective and valiant nature wouldn’t allow you to let this criminal walk away when you encountered him, and that they weren’t there to prevent you from getting like this—killed both him and Shouto on the inside. They especially hated not knowing when you would wake up or if what the doctors said about you eventually regaining consciousness would even be true.

Shouto takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. Katsuki catches him pressing delicate kisses against your lightly bruised knuckles from the corner of his eye, the young man not caring that he was performing these intimate acts in the presence of another man. Shouto especially did this in order to make a solid point:

She’s mine.

Katsuki knew very well how possessive Shouto could be while he was in their presence. And honestly, he couldn’t blame him. If he got to call you his and keep you all to himself, he’d make sure everyone knew they couldn’t have you—that your smile and attention were all his and his alone. But in this case, they weren’t, and all he could settle for were envious emotions and fantasies of what could’ve been.

•

Bakugou Katsuki’s feelings for you date back to as early as your high school years at U.A.

At first, he wasn’t entirely sure what made these feelings arise. Having his goal of becoming the Number One hero plastered at the forefront of his head made romance and love trivial concepts down his path. Katsuki had no time to be chasing after girls, going on dates, and devoting a chunk of his time to a partner.

However, at one point, things started to change. He felt ripples affect the still waters that were his life, and he noticed that only you could calm this torrent. You were the one person he sought comfort in, the one person that understood who he was and why he acted the way he did. And the one person who mended him physically and mentally without belittling his character or crushing his pride.

Through all of that, Katsuki had begun to appreciate and admire all the little things about you. Like your beaming smile and the twinkle in the lovely hues of your eyes that you’d give him as you two interacted. It was such a welcomed contrast to the fearful looks the other students would have etched on their faces whenever he so much as called out their name.

He always took note of how you adjusted his food to his preferences during times you were assigned to cook that night at the dorms. And how you’d go and try to tend to him after training, when his muscles ached and his bruises were settling into his skin.

At first, Katsuki thought of it as a sign of weakness—to accept help from someone else when at his most vulnerable state. Yet you were persistent.

He recalls a particular memory after a battle during his internship where he was reduced to resting in bed to recover. Not many of his classmates came up to check on him during that time. Mainly because they figured he wouldn’t bother to open his door for them anyway. Though one night, he heard a knock sounding from his door. He glanced up from his bed, already thinking about ignoring the visitor in favor of staying in bed to rest, but a voice spoke beyond the threshold.

“Katsuki? I hope you’re not asleep yet. It’s not much, but I made you a little something to help you get better.” He didn’t reply upon recognizing your voice, hesitating to see what you’d do if he didn’t respond.

There was a pause of silence until you eventually continued. “Well, I’ll leave this in front of your door for you to have… If not, I’ll come back and retrieve it, okay?” That was the last you said before Katsuki picked up a light clank near the bottom of the entrance. Afterward, feet padded lightly down the hallway till they returned to the elevator to descend to the bottom floors, and the blond was by himself once again.

He weighed the option of leaving whatever you left for him untouched, but knowing you made an effort to arrive at his door to check on him caused him to waver. Before he knew it, his feet treaded to the spot to discover a hot plate of curry at his doorstep, followed by a note and painkillers. The plate perched on one of his hands, he opened the letter with the other.

Get better soon! We’ll be waiting for you!

Closing the note, he tossed it on his desk before plopping down on the edge of his bed with the plate of curry in his lap. It steamed and dispersed heat on his sore thighs, piping hot and ready to eat.

He gripped his spoon between his fingers, an irregular grin surfacing his lips. He scooped up the spicy bits of curry, gobbling the dish down to its very last grain of rice until the plate was clean. And in that time, every bite he brought to his mouth made him think of you.

“Dumbass, there’s no way I’m falling behind.” Feeling thoroughly full, he transferred the finished plate to his desk, where he had left the note. Before he had even realized it, he reached out for the paper, glancing over the words one last time. He fished a pen from his drawer and scribed a reply of his own for when you would return for the dirty plate.

Thanks, dumbass. It was good.

•

The Icy-Hot Hero, Todoroki Shouto, loved you too much to let you go.

You were the girl that shaped him to become the person he is today—who taught him to embrace himself for who he was and not let his past define him and what he stood for. You were the person that brought him out from the dark hole he trapped himself in and cast him into warm light. You’ve stuck together through thick and thin throughout your journey to becoming Pro Heroes, protecting one another and watching each other’s backs. It wasn’t long before he noticed his feelings for you had developed into more complicated emotions. Emotions that made butterflies flutter in his stomach and his face unusually hot whenever he even glanced in your direction. As he began to actively seek you out for comfort and support, he thought of you differently in comparison to all of his other classmates.

Initially, these foreign feelings troubled him. Yet, he could never quite piece together why you could garner such flustered reactions.

Then after consoling these newfound sensations with his close friends and family, he realized that you meant so much more to him than just a classmate, an ally, a colleague. Todoroki Shouto was—is—in love with you.

And the feeling was mutual.

Whether it was the intense looks you two sent as your gazes naturally drifted to each other or how your hands would always brush across soft and calloused knuckles in a silent plea to lace your fingers together, it wasn’t long before he discovered that his feelings for you were reciprocated.

Interestingly, you and Shouto never had to confess anything to each other. Your feelings came almost naturally for you both like you were telepathically linked and on the same wavelength. You came to one another like magnets attracted to their opposite poles, and in just a blink, your lips had met one day, and you took each other’s first kiss.

From then on was the start of many more “firsts.”

Shouto remembers the first time he let you hang out in his dorm room, talking about simple things like school, studying, and internships.

He remembers your first date to a cafe his older sister recommended—the one with flavorful milk teas he knew you’d take a liking to, with bountiful flowers decorating the interior of the tea house.

He remembers inviting you into his home to meet his older siblings, have dinner with them, and letting his family get to know you as his significant other.

He remembers taking you to see his mother at the psychiatric ward his wretched father had admitted her to, finally letting the two most significant women in his life meet and watching as his mother took a relieved liking to the girl he loves.

He remembers the tension that hovered in the air over an argument you two had one day, which was eventually mended through communication and reaffirmations of love.

He remembers embracing you in his bed, devoid of nothing but yourselves in your purest forms, eliciting sweet sounds from your lips that intoxicated him with lust and drove him to desire more and more until he monopolized every crevice of your body—every ounce of your soul—and intended to burn your beautiful, sinful image into his memory.

He remembers so much of the little things and the significant things about your love that he could never, ever hand you over to anyone else. Less of all to Bakugou Katsuki.

•

Katsuki was one of the first people to notice that they were in a relationship.

At first, it wasn’t obvious. The two made a point to keep their romantic bond a secret among their classmates and teachers not to complicate things and be the subject of teasing. They also considered the fact they needed to focus on their studies and hero training. Kisses and other affectionate touches were done behind closed doors or whenever they knew no eyes could discover them. These sneaky tactics proved to be effective and not many questioned them about relationships, aside from the occasional girls/boys talk they’d do. They’d ask each other things like “who would you date” and “don’t you think ‘so-and-so’ is cute” and many other curious asks. Their answers to these inquiries were inconspicuous enough that most of their friends didn’t suspect much of anything. Except for Katsuki.

Katsuki was never one to pick apart details, not as much as his childhood rival, Deku, anyway. But the more he looked at them, the more he was aware of the particular hints and their subtleties of tenderness. Such as the way the red-and-white-haired boy would perk up at the sound of your name or the chime of your voice from across the dormitory’s common area. Or the way you two would hover around each other more often than you would your classmates as if maximizing the most of your time together in public. Or how you’d go on small study dates together and hold each other’s hand underneath the table in the library, thinking no one would notice.

Perhaps, the most significant indication, however, was the expressions on each of their faces.

Maybe Katsuki had started becoming very hyper-aware, unraveling your mannerisms and making out even the smallest of singularities, but he felt your faces alone were an obvious giveaway.

The looks you gave each other were ones harboring nothing but pure love and adoration. He could discern the glow you exuded simply basking one another’s presence. Those looks weren’t ones you would give to a close friend; they were something more. He would know. That look Shouto gives is the same one Katsuki has for you, after all.

Except, his is never reciprocated.

That pretty smile, the flustered expression across your cheeks, the sparkling hues of your eyes—all those little details were reserved for Shouto, not Katsuki.

It hurt to know that the gaze you give Katsuki wouldn’t ever be the same one you give to Shouto. Katsuki knows this, and yet he still can’t seem to get past you.

The moment he was aware of his feelings—reluctantly fathoming the fact that you were with Shouto—Katsuki did everything in his power to stop these feelings.

No, not just stop. He had to get rid of them. Cut any connection with them. Dealing with an aching heart was too much work and pain for a boy with heavy aspirations to bear. So he ignored you—erased you. He didn’t so much as spare you even a glance as if you were just another extra. Whenever you appeared, he made a move to leave, spouting excuses such as “I’m going to sleep,” or “I don’t have time to be around you losers,” the usual Bakugou Katsuki response to any form of unnecessary socializing. He had to act like you didn’t exist, put his mind on something else—anything else.

But darn that girl and her need to check on and care for other people.

Noticing something was wrong with the boy, you sought Katsuki out, cornering him. You asked him what was wrong, to which Katsuki gritted his teeth, unable to look at you in the eyes, knowing that those feelings would bubble up inside him again as they conjured troublesome butterflies in the pits of his stomach. Yet it was no use.

He couldn’t deny that he missed those times together—when you would patch up his wounds and bruises after training or when you’d let him try out your spicy ailments before half-and-half because you always knew he had a preference for spicy foods. He still had it bad for you.

And he continued to harbor those feelings even after you all graduated after your third year at U.A.

The heroes-in-training were ready to take on the real world as Pro Heroes and sidekicks. By then, you and Shouto had admitted to the class about your relationship. Some were surprised, while others, specifically the girls, expressed their rounds of “I knew it!” likely noticing the chemistry between the two long before. Katsuki had decided to play dumb and acted like this announcement meant completely nothing to him. Just useless news. That was what he told himself, anyway.

After that, Katsuki didn’t see much of the couple around. All of them were busy with work and trying to get their names out in the public to compete on the Billboard Hero Chart.

Which was good news for him. With his goal of becoming the Number One Hero still lodged into his head, the blond threw himself into his heroic duties. Often, he didn’t stop, persisting on job after job until the agency he was under forced him to take breaks whenever they deemed necessary for his health. In those times, Katsuki found himself slowly forgetting about you. But occasionally, he’d see glimpses of you again.

As expected of one of the graduates under Class A of U.A., you were definitely making a name for yourself and propelling in popularity. Whether he wanted to or not, Katsuki would see articles and advertisements glowing with your resplendent features plastered on headlines, covered by your hero name.

God, did you look as beautiful as always. Katsuki would think before jolting his mind back to reality, remembering that you weren’t his to ogle.

The last part was hard to bear, especially when his former class announced a reunion party at a restaurant Momo had reserved for them when everyone had hit the legal drinking age. Katsuki was definitely not keen on going. However, his friend Kirishima had convinced him to come along through relentless persistence.

Ultimately, he attended the reunion. He and Eijirou arrived together and appeared relatively earlier. Well, earlier than at least half the class anyway. Eventually, more of their former classmates trickled into the food establishment and greeted one another with boisterous cheers all around. Which, unfortunately for him, included the people Katsuki dreaded to see the most—you and Shouto.

Your hand was already laced with half-and-half’s when you two entered, resulting in some of their classmates teasing you about your public display of affection. Both didn’t mind though. Over the years, you’ve grown quite comfortable with hand-holding and even hugging in the open.

You know who did mind? A certain explosion hero, of course.

Save that shit for when I don’t have to fucking see it. He almost hissed out loud but bit his tongue at the last second.

To his luck, you had ended up sitting next to him, with Shouto at your left. Though you were sandwiched between two guys from your former class who were infatuated with you, Katsuki felt like he was more suffocated than you were.

The reunion that night went by relatively smoothly. You would chime in some small talk with Katsuki during certain intervals of time while everyone was holding their own conversations in the background. He did his best to keep his cool and not let himself act like a high schooler in love. To some degree, he thought his facade had worked as he played off his usual “Bakugou responses,” albeit with a lot less yelling and venom in comparison to how he spoke to everyone back in high school. Dare he say, he might have even softened up a bit. What he didn’t notice was Shouto glancing at him from the corner of his eye while in the middle of a conversation with Midoriya.

The night continued with rounds of alcohol poured across the table of twenty-one heroes. They made their cheers before helping themselves to their spirits. Conveniently, Shouto and Katsuki were very adept at holding their drinks. You? You weren’t as great. By the end of the night, you passed out from how drunk you were and had ended up laying your head on the table, head floaty and light.

By then, everyone else had left aside from maybe five or so people. Momo graciously helped the couple secure a cab home safely for the night, and Shouto had gotten up to help confirm some information. Katsuki was left to his own devices with you next to him.

His eyes couldn’t help but wander toward your form. You were so vulnerable in front of him, with your soft lips, splayed hair, and long eyelashes turned in his direction for him to see. Though a bit of that smell of alcohol lingered, he could still make out the flowery aroma you always gave off. You smelled of lavenders, daisies, roses—every fucking flower under the sun—with a hint of honey. Your scent intoxicated him. He started to wonder if this is how you smelled like at home, or if your scent became even more potent whenever you appeared fresh out of the shower and—

Katsuki hadn’t realized his hand had subconsciously gone up to brush a stray hair from your face until he managed to pull himself away from his thoughts. Thankfully, he retracted his hand back before committing himself to the act. But the gesture did not go unnoticed by the heterochromatic-eyed man who had appeared again to gather you in his arms.

Shouto had taken his coat and wrapped it around you before hooking his arms beneath you to cradle your body.

“Mm, Shouto…” you hummed against him, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as you nuzzled further into him while on the verge of sleep. Katsuki’s heart throbbed hearing those half-dazed murmurs that left your lips, which hovered so close to that bastard’s neck. He wanted the privilege of holding you close and taking care of you at your most vulnerable.

“Come on, love, we’re going home,” he said fondly at your resting state. Katsuki didn’t catch the cold glare Shouto sent his way as he looked elsewhere to avoid the couple’s intimacy right in front of him. All he could hear after that was the engine of their cab rumbling in the distance, trailing back to their humble abode.

•

“...I know.” Shouto finally breaks the silence within the hospital room, eyes still trained on his beloved as he rubs his thumb across your knuckles to the base of your hand.

Katsuki looks up at his words incredulously. “The fuck is that suppose to mean.” He narrows his brows into a pressed glare.

“I know that you’re in love with her.”

Katsuki deadpanned, his eyes wavering at the man’s declaration. Should he deny it? Make it seem as if the icy-hot head was delusional? No. He knows that the signs must have been obvious coming from the one man in his way of vying for your attention, the man that would go to so many lengths for you that he’d travel to the moon and back in a heartbeat if it were in your name. Katsuki can’t pry himself out of this one.

He takes a glance at you. Was this really the place to be confronting him about this? In the presence of your unconscious state resting in this hospital bed between them?

“And what about it?” Katsuki counters his claims.

“I don’t plan on letting her go no matter what.” As if to make a point on his words, Shouto’s hold on your limp hand is firm, unmoving. He slowly shifts his gaze to the ash blond, crossing his look of anger. “So stop playing this game.”

When the words travel across the hollow hospital room and to Katsuki’s ears, his fists tighten in response. “Game? Game?!” He raises his voice, body shaking. “You think my feelings are some sort of joke to you?! That I’m only looking at her like this for fun?!” His eyes find Shouto’s blue and gray, red with ire. The young man in front of him is unfazed in the wake of his indignation.

“Let me tell you something fucking straight…” Katsuki starts, stepping forward, finger pointing fiercely in Shouto’s direction. “I won’t deny anything I feel for her at this point. I’m in love with her, alright?” he admits without hesitance and notices the subtle quirk of Icy-Hot’s brow. “And I’ll tell you that if she were mine, she wouldn’t have gotten in this position in the first place.”

Those words are what finally make Shouto’s unnatural composure crumble. He releases your hand to stand from his place and face the blond at eye level. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Crossing his arms, Katsuki scoffs at the question.

“You’d think I’d even let that villain get near her if this was gonna happen?” He gestures in the direction of your patched-up form, asleep and littered with bruises. “If she were looking at me, I would’ve already been on the scene to back her up. And just what were you doing, huh? Helping old ladies cross the street?” Katsuki is unfiltered as he hurls his insults, but three years of dealing with him as a classmate has made Shouto immune to his temperament.

“Let me get this through your head then. She was never looking at you. She was looking at me.”

Ouch. The blond would be lying if those words didn’t stir a pot of hurt inside him.

“And as both her partner and a fellow Pro Hero, I more than trusted her enough to finish the job on her own. Even if this isn’t a game to you, you’re already losing a battle you can’t hope to win.”

“Not sure why you’re the one calling the shots for her,” Katsuki quips. How ironic the girl they’re both fighting over lays comatose in this very bed between them.

The atmosphere is layered in dreadful silence afterward. The monitor next to you beeps in eery succession. It is the only thing heard in the hospital room that is wrapped in tension so taut it is bound to snap at any moment.

The knot of strife is undone by the door sliding open to reveal a nurse entering the uneasy state of the room.

“Mister Bakugou and Mister Todoroki, I’m sorry, but visiting hours at the hospital are closed for the evening,” she informs them as the two had yet to realize the sky veiled darkening orange with the setting of the sun. Eyeing the clipboard hugged to her chest, they knew it was about time for the hospital to assess your condition again.

The two make their leave, taking the time to thank the nurse before doing so, but the suffocating tension follows them even outside the hospital. They don’t speak a word afterwards, only sharing bristled looks and heavy steps until they’re forced to head off in their respective paths, not sparing any more kindness.

To Shouto, Katsuki would never understand the lengths he’d go for you because Katsuki could also never experience what the two of you went through together in the same way. All those years together, forging unforgettable memories of love and tenderness, could never be replicated.

But the blond isn’t bothered by those facts. It doesn’t unnerve him that he was unable to encounter all those firsts with you because in his mind, he’ll just create new memories—ones that you’ve never experienced and ones that will make him the last and only person you’ll ever want by your side. He’ll blow fucking Icy-Hot out of the atmosphere.

ending note: heyyy congrats if you’ve made it to the end. i think at the time i was writing this, i had an idea on how to progress the fic, but i decided to leave it on this. not particularly sure if i’m going to continue this, i may just leave it up to your interpretation. does katsuki steal the readers heart? does shouto protect his love from being severed in front of him? will the reader even wake up? find out on the next episode of dragon ball z

#bnha x reader #todoroki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo fic #bakugou fic #todoroki fic #bnha imagine #bnha fic #bakugou imagine #todoroki imagine #todoroki shouto x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader

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