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pengychan · 1 year ago

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[Good Omens] Come What May, Ch. 3

Summary: While completely improvised, Gabriel’s plan to transfer his memories in the container fly before erasure was rather solid. It came very close to working, too. But ‘close’ was not enough. [SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2] Characters: Gabriel, Beelzebub, Crowley, Aziraphale, Muriel, Michael, Uriel, Saraquael Rating: T All chapters will be tagged as ‘come what may’ on my blog.

[Back to Prologue]

***

Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies, was in a bad mood.

To be honest, being in a bad mood sort of came with their job description, because who takes a cheery demon seriously? No one, that’s who, least of all demons you’re supposed to lord over. As demons are by definition not terribly keen on being lorded over - that was what the entire Fall business had been all about, pretty much - the ability to be taken seriously was sort of vital in order to run Hell.

‘Taken seriously’ meaning something along the lines of ‘being feared nearly as much as Satan himself’, of course.

Luckily, as the general environment Hell offered did nothing to put anyone in the vicinity of being in a good mood, Beelzebub had always done a good job at that. For the longest time they had been in no mood but a bad one, loathed and feared and little else. It suited them just fine, because it was how it had to be. By definitions, demons aren’t loved or lovable.

Until they’d met someone too stupid to loathe and fear them, and they’d forgotten to be in a bad mood in the first place. The signature Mood had started to feel less like a constant in their existence, and more like some kind of work-mandated uniform they were relieved to shed and leave behind for a few, precious hours of leave on Earth - where for the first time in thousands upon thousands of years someone would be happy to see them. Looking forward to see them, even.

They’d liked that. Loved it, in fact. And now that he had been taken from them, the bad mood was back, blacker than ever.

If the loss turned out to be permanent, they’d do their utmost to make sure no one else in Creation would know happiness ever again. After, of course, they’d personally fried Archangel Michael in hellfire. Which they might do whether or not said loss turned out to be permanent.

But first of all, they needed to find a fly.

Below them, angels went about their business unaware of the call they were putting out - a low, humming, continuous buzz that propagated miles in every direction, if human distance units meant anything there. Certainly not enough to cover all of Heaven, but as long as they kept moving and calling, their fly would hear the call and come to them. It had to.

And if it didn’t, no matter. Beelzebub was ready to search every corner of Heaven if need be, however long it took.

***

“Er, hi! I’d like a--”

“Skinny latte, coming up.”

“... Wait, how do you know?”

“You always get a skinny latte.”

“Oh! You remembered?”

“It’s my job. I remember how everyone takes their coffee.”

Ah. Right. The smile that had been widening on Maggie’s face sort of froze into place, and she cleared her throat. “Well, you have-- good memory.”

“Thanks.”

“My name is Maggie. I run that record shop over there.”

“Nina. Nice to meet you,” Nina replied, but she seemed to be glancing at something over Maggie’s shoulder, and rather worriedly too. Maggie turned to see someone she was… not familiar with, per se, but not entirely unfamiliar either. She had seen him coming and going from Mr. Fell’s bookshop. He was sitting by the window, tense as a violin bow.

“Know him?” Nina asked, leaning on the counter.

Maggie nodded. “I’ve seen him before - a friend of Mr. Fell, I think?”

“Ah, that’s where I’ve seen him. I was just thinking he’s been around here for years, but I never really placed him,” Nina said, tilting her head to one side. She tended to mind her own business most of the time - all she needed to know about people was how they wanted their coffee, and in general it was also all she needed to know to judge them - but it was near impossible to order eight straight shots of espresso in a cup and not catch her attention. And cause at least some concern, too.

Honestly, the man looked nervous enough before even ordering the shots, which made her wonder whether he had taken the name of her shop too seriously and was after both coffee and death, in the order.

“Ah, yes. He is around the bookshop a lot,” Maggie said. “I thought he was more of a boyfriend, really, but Mr. Fell was always very reserved about his life and I never wanted to pry. He, uh… he looks really nervous.”

“After eight shots of espresso, nervous is the least one can expect. Not that he looked peachy when he walked in.”

“He looks like he’s waiting for someo--”

He was indeed waiting for someone, and as said someone walked past the window to get to the door, both Nina and Maggie could see the man suddenly lean back against the chair as though a massive weight had been taken off him, and draw in a huge sigh of obvious relief. By the time Mr. Fell came into the shop a few moments later, however, he was the picture of calm, carefully-constructed coolness.

“Oh, he is a boyfriend all right,” Nina muttered. Maggie chuckled and decided this might be the moment for small talk, after all… except that Nina’s phone began pinging, and the smile was gone from the face almost right away. The frown was back, and she was replying to messages rapid-fire, as though having forgotten Maggie was there.

“I… maybe I should be back at another time?”

A sigh. “No, no, it’s fine. My partner is having a moment, is all. You can sit, I’ll get you the skinny latte in a minute,” she said, vaguely gesturing toward a seat.

Partner. Well, of course. Did she really think someone like Nina would be single? Maggie bit her lower lip and went to sit at the closest table available, feeling like an idiot and trying not to let it show. Because then she might cry, and it would be awkward. You don’t cry in someone else’s shop. She’d just have some coffee, and go back to her own shop to have a good little cry which was unlikely to be interrupted by any clients.

With a sigh, she glanced over at the table where lovely Mr. Fell and his brooding friend - or boyfriend? - were engaged in a clearly animated conversation, voices hushed, both of them leaning over the table. They seemed to be discussing something serious.

Maggie could only hope they were having a better day than she was.

***

When the container fly answered their call, Beelzebub was roughly three minutes away from forgetting the ‘however long it took’ part of their vow and skip straight to discorporating angels left and right until Michael came out of whatever office she was holed in to face them, so that they could strangle an explanation out of her - or be discorporated themself in the attempt.

In their defense, patience is a Heavenly virtue and demons are notoriously lacking in that department for reasons that should not need to be explained.

The buzzing sound was barely audible over their own, but Beelzebub clocked it immediately. They turned in mid-air and there it was, answering their call. Empty as the day they had given it to Gabriel, the first gift he had ever received… and ready as ever to answer to its master. Not literally answer, because that wasn’t what it was made for, but following orders? Oh, it could do that.

Take me to him, Beelzebub ordered, and the container fly immediately took off again the way it had come, with its Lord and master following close behind.

***

“Yes, of course I stepped right out--”

“Took you entirely too long, angel.”

“No it did not. I actually happened upon an angel who took the book off me, so I was barely even in. It was rather convenient, really. And they were very nice.”

A soft snort. “No one in Heaven is nice.”

“Well. I like to think I am, at least to a reasonable degree--”

“You haven’t been in Heaven for a long time,” Crowley pointed out.

Aziraphale couldn’t argue that point. “... Well. Either way, Lord Beelzebub slipped in unnoticed. They were really as inconspicuous as they said they would be.”

A grumble. “As long as they stay inconspicuous.”

“They gave their word--”

“A demon’s word, and you trust it?”

“Well. You generally keep your word.”

“I’ve also been away from Hell about as long as you’ve been away from Heaven.” Crowley made a face, scrunching up his nose. “Beelzebub offered me a place back in Hell in exchange for helping them find Gabriel, can you believe it? Must have been desperate.”

“Yes, they do seem to care an awful lot for--”

“And desperately stupid, if they really thought I’d want to go back.”

Aziraphale nodded. “Fair enough. I cannot imagine anyone wanting to go to Hell, can you? It looked rather miserable when I was there.”

A shrug. “I found Heaven to be about as miserable, to be honest,” he said, glancing outside. The Bentley was parked on the other side of the road, backseat full of plants because, Aziraphale had been told, they ‘liked going out on rides’.

“Oh.” Aziraphale paused. “I mean, management aside, it’s not… all that bad.”

“You really didn’t want to go back when they tried to give you that promotion, angel.”

Ah, that. It had been quite the unfortunate timing, Aziraphale recalled; Gabriel showed up to tell him he’d been promoted back to Heaven just as he’d opened up his bookshop. He’d been smiling widely, and clearly expected Aziraphale to be overjoyed by the promotion.

You get to come home, he’s said, obviously thinking Aziraphale had not quite grasped the magnitude of what he was being offered. He never understood what Aziraphale loved about being on Earth, and he certainly wouldn’t have understood if he told him the idea of leaving it for Heaven filled him with dread. Truth be told, Aziraphale wasn’t certain he could quite articulate the reasons for that dread himself. In the end he’d been spared both the promotion and the awkward explanation, as Crowley’s demonic intervention had convinced Gabriel that Aziraphale needed to remain on Earth to be his foil.

“Well, I do enjoy being on Earth quite a bit, and… I am unlikely to ever be called back, really,” he finally said, and that ended the conversation. For a time. “... His face,” he said suddenly, looking up, and met Crowley’s confused gaze. The realization felt like a punch to the gut. He searched his mind again, and drew a blank. “Crowley, I-- I can’t remember Gabriel’s face.”

That caused Crowley to frown. “I remember it all too well. Better than I’d like, really. They must have erased that from the collective celestial memory. Doesn’t sound good.”

“Do you really think they did something to Gabriel? But he’s the Supreme Archangel, surely--”

“Cute. And Lucifer Lightbringer was God’s little golden boy, once upon a time. No one is safe, no matter how high up,” Crowley muttered, and leaned back on the seat, still looking outside. “If Gabriel forgot that, he’s a bigger idiot than I thought.”

Aziraphale hesitated. “But surely he’d have fought back?” he asked. Crowley shrugged.

“If he tried, he lost. He may be the Supreme Wanker, but against Michael? My money’s not on him,” he said, and there was nothing Aziraphale could retort to that. There was a reason why Archangel Michael was nearly universally depicted as a fierce warrior - because she was. When the first ever War broke out in Heaven, she'd proved fearsome in a way Gabriel, the Messenger, had never been. It had caused some surprise when, the War over, Gabriel had been chosen as the Supreme Archangel instead of her. No one had dared question it, least of all Michael... at least publicly.

"No, he wouldn't have stood a chance," he agreed in the end, and for a time they both stared out at the people walking past, saying nothing.

***

“Well, look at that. I’m good at this thing!”

Jibreel’s voice echoed a little into the complete silence surrounding him, and that echo was the only response he got, but he didn’t mind too much. Well, maybe he did miss the faint buzzing of his little friend, but he had been told not to go anywhere, so it wasn’t like he could go look for it. It would probably be back, eventually, and Muriel too.

And then he could show them both that he was good at… huh. He was pretty sure there was a word for making pictures on parchment out of ink, but he couldn’t recall. Still, he was good at it. The things he made on the parchment looked just like the real things he was thinking of. There was the elevator he recalled looking at as his very first memory, and the front of some building he had never seen, and his fly friend in perfect detail. And then there was that… face.

Jibreel stared at it, frowning a little. He’d started it as Muriel, because to be honest he couldn’t recall seeing many other faces, but it had… changed on him as he went on. The hair was different, scruffier, and there was a hat, and the features were different too. The nose, and the shape of the eyes, and… no, it really wasn’t Muriel anymore. It was someone else.

Only he wasn’t sure who that someone was. Jibreel stared at it a few more moments, then picked up the pen and began to do the mouth. The lips that appeared on the parchment were curled in a smile, and he smiled back; any leftover sadness for the disappearance of the fly was gone. “Hey,” he told the face on the parchment, still smiling, and began adding marks under the face’s eyes, humming that tune again. He really wished he could recall where he might have heard it before it came out of his mouth, but he kept drawing a blank and… ah, there was the buzzing again!

Jibreel looked up from the parchment, expecting to see the fly hovering around him again, and to be fair he did see it. What he did not expect was for its return to be followed by a literal explosion of flames that caused him to topple back along with the entire chair, as well as some parchment and the inkwell. His back hit the floor just as the smell of sulfur reached his nostrils, and a voice reached his ears.

“Gabriel!”

Jibreel blinked, and looked up. Standing over him, clothes startlingly dark against the whiteness above (and below, and around), there was someone with the same face he’d put on the piece of parchment. It was smiling, too. Well, he thought, look at that. What were the odds?

“Hello,” he said, and smiled back. “How can I help you?”

“Thank Satan I found you, I was starting to think-- wait, what?” They trailed off, the relieved expression turning to confusion. Jibreel sat up, trying to recall the script Muriel taught him.

“Do you need to check something from the archive? All you need to do is fill this form - I’ll get you one, just a moment--”

“What the-- I’m not here to fill out forms, Gabriel!” A hand, clad in an odd fishnet glove, grabbed his arm and pulled him upright so quickly, his head spun a little. Then two hands grabbed his own and held tight. They were warm, and Jibreel found himself holding back. “What happened? You just went and disappeared, your phone was dead and Michael was saying some bullshit about your position being vacant--”

“Michael?”

“Archangel Michael, yes. She just made this announcement about a new task, what is goin--”

“Oh. The one who spoke earlier? Just a little while ago, about-- ah! Do you need information about that thing she talked about, with Supreme Archangel Gabriel getting a new task? I am afraid that’s likely classified, but I can still try to see if--” he turned to the drawer where Muriel kept the forms, but a hand suddenly grabbed his chin and forced him to turn.

Jibreel found himself staring into two dark, widened eyes; they were so close to his face, he could see tiny reflections of himself in them. “Your eyes. What happened to your eyes?”

“Huh… they burned a little? Earlier. I don’t know what happened, there were voices and it was sort of a weird moment. But they feel fine no--”

“Do you know who I am?” the being cut him off, and Jibreel hesitated.

“The face,” he finally said.

“The… face?”

“I drew you. Yes,” Jibreel added, and something in the back of his mind… didn’t quite ache, but rather itched, just out of his reach. “I think.. yes, that’s the word, isn’t it? I drew your face! And it was a pretty good likeness, want to see--”

“Do you know my name?”

A shake of his head, or at least as much as he could shake it with that iron grip holding onto his chin. “No, sorry. But if you tell me, I’ll do my best not to forget it. I’ll write it next to the drawing, how about--”

“Do you know yours? Do you know your name?”

Amidst the confusion, that at least was something he knew. Jibreel smiled, happy to finally have an answer. “I sure do! My name is Jibreel. Or Jibrīl, but also Jabrāʾīl. You can pick your favorite spelling, I can sign with all of them! How may I help--” he began, only to trail off when the being’s features twisted like something had hurt them. Jibreel could only assume it was a sign they didn't like his perfectly correct answer. He opened his mouth to speak again, to ask if there was another spelling he’d forgotten about, but suddenly there was something coming in through his eyes, into his head.

If searching his own mind for memories like one would explore an abandoned house with a flashlight had been painful, this was so much worse - a blinding, searing pain that made him feel as though a lighthouse was shining its light through an open window, searching, finding nothing even as it drowned everything in white. Invisible hands searched through empty drawers and beneath floorboards, yanking them out of place, and it hurt and hurt and hurt.

There was a keening noise; Jibreel couldn’t tell right away that it had come from his own mouth. “S-stop…”

“What have they done to you? What have those bastards done to--”

“STOP! PLEASE! IT HURTS!”

The hand let go of his face, the light was shut off and the presence retreated. The pain was gone, leaving behind only a dull ache, but even so Jibreel staggered back, holding onto his head. He stumbled and probably would have fallen if the being hadn’t grabbed his arm, steadied him, and helped him sit on the floor.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you,” they were saying. Something about their voice suggested they very much wanted to hurt someone all right, only not him. Jibreel opened his eyes, blinking against the whiteness, very grateful that the pain was mostly gone. The being-- not an angel, somehow I could tell, this is no angel and yet I am not afraid --was kneeling before him, still holding onto his arm. They looked… concerned. “Something happened to your memories. Do you know what it was?”

Jibreel frowned, and shook his head. “No. I know it’s all empty where something was. I don’t know why. I don’t know where everything went. Or what everything was.”

“... But you remembered my face?”

“I must have. I drew it. Unless I made you up?” He blinked. “Did I miracle you into being?”

A faint smile. “No, you didn’t.” Their hand let go of his arm, and came to rest over his head. It was warm, and the ache that still lingered in his head faded, too. Jibreel leaned into the touch without thinking, and closed his eyes. “It will be all right,” the being said. “We’ll get it all back. Now I just need to borrow your body for a little while, so we can slip out.”

“Borrow my…?”

“Hush. Sleep,” they ordered, and he fell silent. The hand resting on his head brushed through his hair in a caress, his eyelids became heavy, and then there was nothing.

***

In the end, Muriel hadn’t given the handbook to the archive after all. They had stopped by a window, opened it for a quick look, and before they knew it had been… well. A while. Probably an hour or two and they were nowhere near done reading through it.

That was a deviation from their usual duties, they knew it, but they just couldn’t resist holding onto it a little while longer. It had so much interesting information about Earth and humans and their funny little habits, as well as the demons who operated there! Waiting for work to come in could get so boring, and surely it wouldn’t hurt if they kept holding onto it for a little while longer. It was one of many issued to angels on Earth duty after all, they wouldn’t miss one copy that badly.

And surely, Jibreel would like to have a look, too. He had never been on Earth, either.

No. Doesn’t remember being on Earth.

It was an unwanted, unpleasant thought that Muriel did their best to ignore. It made no difference, and besides, what Jibreel did or did not remember was none of their business. Everything was as it should be, an Archangel had taken him to work with them and surely that meant that… that…

Focused as they were on thoughts of how everything was absolutely peachy, staring at the cover of the handbook, Muriel didn’t see immediately that something wasn’t right with the office. But the smell reached them first, faint yet recognizable even though they hadn’t smelled it in a long, long, long time.

Sulfur.

And a smell of sulfur was a sure sign of demonic activity. It had to be. It said so right there in the handbook, on page 66, paragraph 6. With a startled gasp, Muriel lifted her gaze from the handbook’s cover and found themself looking at utter chaos. All right, not really, but an upturned chair and several rolls of parchment on the floor - along with an inkwell whose contents had all spilled on some of said parchment - did amount to chaos in Heaven. And most worrying of all was what Muriel could not see: Jibreel. He was gone.

The handbook fell off Muriel’s hands, but they hardly noticed. They looked around, hoping to catch at least a glimpse of him - maybe he just wanted to stretch his legs? - but there was only whiteness as far as the eye could see. No trace of Jibreel in any direction.

Maybe he’ll be right back.

But what of the smell of sulfur? It means a demon was here, somehow, while I was away. I left him all alone and something happened and it was bad.

Oh, this wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all. Muriel had to raise the alarm, and quickly. They took a few steps, picked up the handbook, and… they paused, gaze falling on the parchments on the floor. There was something on a few of them - drawings.

One drawing was of the elevator to Earth and Hell; they recognized that. Then there was the face of someone they had never seen before, the front of a building - The Resurrectionist, a sign read - and what looked like… a lot of crosses in a field, and a statue in the middle, too small to make out the features. They could tell it was holding a cross, though. Could it be a cemetery? One of those places where humans put bodies?

There was something in the handbook about them. Muriel quickly opened said handbook, looking for the page about cemeteries. Ah, there it was - mortals considered it a hot spot of demonic or angelic activity, but there actually was very little of either. Why, though, had Jibreel drawn a cemetery? There was none in Heaven, obviously. And Jibreel was never… did not remember ever being on Earth. Maybe it hadn’t been him to draw it? He seemed to have been taken after a struggle. Was it a demonic message? Or maybe he’d remembered something?

No point wondering. Raise the alarm. Now.

But for a long while Muriel stayed glued on the spot, completely lost, trying and failing to make sense out of utter nonsense.

***

Timing, Crowley would reason later, had really not been on his side.

He’d really hoped that whatever was going on with Gabriel, Beelzebub, Heaven and Hell and whatnot would remain, very firmly, none of their business. He’d even managed to talk Aziraphale into going back to his shop to grab his coat before going out to try out that new Korean restaurant that had just opened in Holborn. A good lunch, he reasoned, would get his mind off whatever mess was cooking up.

Except that they never got to find out, because Beelzebub’s voice rang out behind them just as Aziraphale was locking the front door.

“You must let me in.”

Well, there went his plan. Crowley groaned and turned, looking down. “What do you mean, we must-- listen we held our half of the barg--” he began, only to trail off when he realized he wasn’t looking at Beelzebub’s face. Rather, he was staring at the chest of someone who was a good deal taller than the Lord of the Flies, clad in the kind of bland, white clothing Heaven gave to low-level angels.

Ah.

Slowly, Crowley lifted his gaze. Archangel Fucking Gabriel - or rather, Beelzebub in the guise of the Archangel Fucking Gabriel - returned it, markedly unimpressed.

“My usual form is not that short,” they remarked. Crowley bit back a response that it absolutely was that short. He was already having a bad time, dealing with his old boss while also staring at a face he had come to despise more than almost anything else in Creation, and he’d rather not make it worse by angering said old boss.

By his side, Aziraphale hesitated. “Lord Beelzebub? Is that you?”

“Yes. I have found him, as you can see. Now let us in.”

“Us…?”

“Gabriel,” Crowley muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “They’re in his body. This is his face, by the way, angel. In the unlikely case you wanted to refresh your memory.”

Beelzebub frowned. “Refresh his memory?”

“It seems Heaven ensured no angel would remember what Gabriel looked like.”

“... Of course they would. Makes sense.”

Aziraphale blinked. “But why are you-- well, why is he dressed like a scrivener?”

“I don’t have a full picture yet, but I will share what I do know once we’re inside.”

“Yeah, no. Neither of you is coming insi--”

“Yes, of course - do come in.”

“Angel, come on! We really don’t want to get mixed up with--”

“I have some cake. Shall I make tea?”

“I'll have neither, but thank you kindly,” Lord Beelzebub said through Archangel Gabriel’s mouth, sounding just a touch smug as they stepped past Crowley and into the shop - making Crowley very much wish he had, after all, crashed his Bentley into a bus the second the Lord of the Flies materialized in it.

***

While he had seen his fair share of unsettling things during his thousands of years of existence - more than his fair share, truth be told - Aziraphale had to admit that what he had just witnessed was particularly unpleasant.

He really hadn’t started the day thinking he would see his former boss lay down on a sofa and suddenly convulse as a swarm if flies emerged from his mouth and nostrils, and then watch as they came together until Lord Beelzebub themself stood in the middle of his bookshop. The thought he might have just done something stupid - inviting Hellish royalty in his bookshop, for Heaven’s sake! - crossed his mind, but the worry was short-lived.

Beelzebub paid little mind to him or Crowley: the second they had a corporeal form again they turned to Gabriel, who lay motionless on the sofa with his eyes shut. They crouched beside him, resting a hand on his forehead. It was a simple gesture that caused something in Aziraphale’s chest to clench, and made him instinctively turn towards Crowley. He looked back at him before clearing his throat and looking away, clearly ill at ease.

“He’ll be asleep for a while,” Beelzebub was saying, voice soft. “It likely won’t be long before Heaven starts looking for him, and I cannot quite guarantee his safety in Hell just yet. I couldn’t think of anywhere else he could hide until I figure out how to undo what they did.”

“... Right. If you don’t mind me asking, Lord Beelzebub - what did they do to him? Assuming that by they you mean, uh, Heaven?”

Their gaze darkened, and they finally turned away from Gabriel to look back at Aziraphale. “They have broken him."

"Broken him?"

"His mind is a clean slate. They took away all his memories and knowledge. Stripped away all that was him, renamed him Jibreel, or Jibrīl, or something. They told everyone Gabriel was given a new task before they reassigned him as some… lowly scrivener,” they said, somehow sounding almost as insulted by that as they were by the fact Heaven had erased his memories in the first place. To be fair, going from Commander in Chief of the Heavenly Host to scrivener was probably the biggest demotion to ever take place in the history if anything ever.

Crowley let out a scoff. “Not very creative, that name,” he said, gaining himself a quizzical look from Beelzebub. Aziraphale, on the other hand, caught on immediately.

“That’s what Prophet Muhammad called him. Jibrīl, Jabrāʾīl, or Jibreel - it all boils down to the same angel. Gabriel,” he explained, and tilted his head towards the shelf where some of his most prized possessions - antique copies of the Quran - were on display. “Highest ranking angels aside, Heaven always paid woefully little attention to the texts of human prophets. A shame of you ask me, a lot of those small additions and misunderstandings make for a compelling read, such as that business with the camel and the needle’s--”

“Angel.”

“Right, right. Yes. Staying on topic. Well, they clearly didn’t think anyone would take notice of his new name. With his new position being so low and no one in Heaven remembering what Archangel Gabriel looked like--”

Beelzebub scoffed. “I don’t believe for a moment other Archangels erased that particular memory from their own minds. Only from lesser angels’. No offense.”

“None taken,” Aziraphale reassured them, although he was… dubious that Beelzebub would care in the slightest if he did take offense. “You are correct, they would certainly recognize him if they happened to--”

“Come looking, yes,” Crowley cut him off, voice tight the way it can only get when you’re watching a nightmare scenario unfold without being able to do a thing to prevent it. “Lord Beelzebub, once they realize he’s gone, they will check surveillance. They may not notice you, but they will know that Aziraphale visited on this particular day. He’s on precarious standing as things are, and it’s only a matter of time before they come looking. If they find--”

"I'll use a hiding miracle,” Beelzebub cut him off. “They may come look for him, if they wish, but they won’t ever see him. Your angel won’t be in any danger.”

“Isn’t that something Hell will clock--”

“Not if I perform it. No one is overseeing the overseer,” Beelzebub pointed out, and that was it. The miracle was done with the gesture of a hand, but for a few more moments they remained motionless, eyes once again fixed on Gabriel’s features, hand still on his forehead. They seemed to blow gently, barely ruffling his hair, and something came out of their mouth - a fly, not too surprisingly. It landed on Gabriel’s chest and there it stayed, buzzing softly.

“I will be back as soon as I can, but meanwhile I’ll be able to keep an eye on the situation through this fly.” And make sure Crowley doesn’t give in to the temptation of kicking him in the Thames, was the clear undertone. “It was not my intention to involve you more than necessary, but this is the safest he can be for now. The fewer beings are involved, the better. You will be rewarded for your help,” they added, and stood. Crowley grumbled.

“Yes, well, as a reward we’d like to opt out--”

“No reward necessary. We’re happy to help.”

“Uuugh, angel…!”

“It’s obviously the right thing to do.”

“Nothing about having him in your bookshop sounds right to me!”

“They did something awful to him, I can’t--”

“Well, he tried to do something awful to you, personally, so forgive me if I’m not--”

“Oh, of course you’re forgiven.”

“Not literally!” Crowley groaned, and seemed about to add something else when a blood-curdling scream caused both of them to wince and turn to Beelzebub, who took a cell phone out of their pocket. On the sofa, Gabriel kept sleeping like a baby. Except that babies never sleep like babies and whoever came up with that comparison either never had a baby, was in denial, or wanted to purposely mock people who did have babies.

“It’s Uriel calling,” Beelzebub said, voice cold. “I suppose I am expected to answer this.”

Aziraphale bit his lower lip. “Uh, why would Uriel…?”

“Either Heaven already knows what I have done, which would be annoyingly quick on their part, or they really want to push ahead with Armageddon the Sequel,” Beelzebub said, then sighed. “Well, I supposed there is only one way to find out,” they added, and took the call.

***

[Back to Chapter 2]

#good omens #ineffable bureaucracy #archangel gabriel #beelzebub #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #muriel #come what may

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silvaswiftcast · 1 year ago

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Fluffvember Prompt #22 Formal

Characters: Silva Cataracta, Ricmorn Cataracta, and Hien Rijin (Aymeric, Lyse, and Alisaie are also mentioned here, but they do not speak.)

Rating: Mature

Notes: Slowly catching up on the prompt list for this challenge! Holidays and other writing projects are keeping me busier than I thought they would. But enjoy this rather long one shot The scene takes place sometime after Shadowbringers 5.3! There is no mention of anything from MSQ/Story, so no spoilers here! The relationship between Silva and Hien is still very much a well kept secret from their friends/the world. Words contained in [brackets] are in another language, in this case, it's Doman.

Content Warnings/Additional Tags: Polyamory Relationship (V Relationship), M/F/M Relationship, Playful Banter/Teasing, Jealousy, Mentions of Unrequited Love, Suggestive Sexual Themes, Food, Alcohol/Drinking, Heavy Kissing, Groping, Implied Eventual Threesome, Domestic Fluff.

The low whistle coming from behind Silva as she fiddled with the white rose hairpin made her smile.

“You look stunning, my dear.”

She didn’t have to look in the mirror to know who was waiting for her to finish getting ready. “To be fair, you always say that, Ricmorn,” she laughed, shaking her head. The Auri woman made sure the decorative hairpiece was where she wanted it, tilting her head in a few different directions to see if it would slip. When it remained, she sighed softly, relieved. “Also, considering we are married and bonded, I believe you’re legally obligated to say such things to me.”

The joke made him laugh. Silva couldn’t help giggling with him, the bubbly sound mixing in with hearty rumbles that shook his chest and shoulders as he crossed the room to meet her. When she turned around, the white mage caught her slender waist in his hands.

“I mean it, Silv — always,” Ricmorn promised. And there was no trace of teasing in his voice, at least not this time.

And she was. The long, flowing midnight blue dress she wore was perfection.

He loved the radiant grin she gave him, a flash of white teeth and fangs. The one that chased away haunting shadows and brightened his world. A grin that never failed to make his heart race. Beautiful.

“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. How she didn’t wobble in her high heels was a miracle. One she hoped would continue for the next several bells. “It’s not too much. Is it? Miki is still here and can help me change dresses if you think so.”

Silva still couldn’t believe it took her nearly all week to decide what to wear. Tataru had crafted many dresses for her since she joined the Scions many years ago, all of the gowns beautiful in their own ways, and she was always happy to create more if nothing felt right. This dress caught her eye only bells earlier when she dug through her closet — one she hadn’t worn before. (She didn’t even remember what function this dress was supposed to be for.) But when Tataru came over to see what she had settled on, she practically squealed in delight and gave the Au Ra her approval to wear it.

This dress was… different. A little outside of her comfort zone — something new and exciting and unexpected. It would certainly catch the attention of their friends and those invited to the Alliance Gala.

But it was the unwanted attention she worried most about.

He shook his head, a low growl rumbling in his throat. “No, no— You look fantastic! Do not change a thing, sweetheart,” he assured, returning the kiss and offering a smile.

And she was.

The long, flowing midnight blue dress she wore was perfection. The long slit in the fabric, stopping at the middle of her thigh, showed off her lean legs and strappy heels. Each time the skirt moved with her, the fabric would glitter in the light, reminding Ricmorn of the night sky filled with stars. The corset top hugged her in all the right places, making her curves and chest stand out. Sterling silver embedded with glimmering sapphires decorated her neck and horns, matching the delicate flower piece pinned in her short purple and magenta waves.

His wife was absolutely gorgeous tonight.

And he couldn’t count how many times his gaze outlined the sweetheart neckline — how many times he lingered at her cleavage.

All he would have to do was just slightly loosen the ribbons at her back, holding the corset closed. It wouldn’t take much for her full breasts to pop free and— Gods help him. Tonight would be a long one.

At least he wouldn’t be the only one suffering from the desire to drag her away from the party and strip her bare.

Her exhale of relief was music to his horns — and snapped him out of his thoughts. “Okay, good!” she breathed, smoothing her hands over her long skirt. “O-oh! You look rather dashing yourself, my love.”

But Ricmorn always looked fucking incredible in a black suit. It was absurd. How Tataru tailored the fabric perfectly over his tall frame and broad shoulders each time she made one for him never failed to amaze her. How much she wanted to wrap the matching black silk tie around her hand and yank his head down for searing kisses. The thought alone was enough to make her giddy.

However, his smile didn’t last, quickly twisting into a smirk as his sky-blue eyes roamed over Silva’s body again. Ricmorn was acutely aware of how her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of lilac at his gawking. “Your beloved lord will have difficulty keeping his hands off you once he finally corners you, though. You know that, yes?” he teased, brushing his knuckles against her warm cheeks. Another low growl escaped him when her blush darkened. “His eyes will be glued to you the entire time and he’ll have trouble staying focused while in boring conversations with nobles and… other people.”

“Aymeric,” she deadpanned, resting her hands on her hips. “You mean Aymeric, right?”

The way his eyes narrowed, a deep scowl painting his handsome features, almost made her laugh. “You’d think he’d understand by now that your heart lies elsewhere and a relationship between you will never happen.” And when Aymeric learned how her love not only rested in Ricmorn's hands but in Hien’s, too, he couldn’t wait to rub it in his face.

The “poor” Lord Commander of Ishgard would shit bricks when news of their relationship broke.

Silva shrugged, her long tail swishing behind her. “He’ll have his hopes and dreams dashed once more, so enough. No need to fret.”

“He’s been told plenty of times by now — many of them before you and Hien became a couple—”

“Yes, yes — I know. But we are dawdling now, Ricmorn. We’ll be late to the gala if we do not hurry!” She didn’t have to admit it aloud. She was eager to see her other lover — they'd been apart too long. The mention alone was enough to make her heart beat faster.

Ricmorn took the hint, offering his arm out for her to take. “Then let us be off, my dear. The sooner we arrive, the quicker we can leave.”

Or… sneak out and whisk the young lord away with them.

※

Ricmorn had been correct about his statement: Hien could not take his eyes off her.

From the moment Silva entered the ballroom with her husband, the couple offering their greetings to their close friends and allies, she had his full attention. She had to hide a giggle behind a hand when he swore in Doman when their gazes met. His poor jaw nearly hit the floor as he looked at her up and down!

(Aymeric’s blue eyes devoured her, but it was easy to ignore his gaze — it didn’t affect her as much as Hien’s or Ricmorn’s did. It didn’t light her ablaze like they did.)

Her reaction to seeing him in formal Doman clothing was nearly the same. Ricmorn told her if she wasn’t careful, she would start smacking people and well decorated tables with her swishing tail. He looked dashing in regalia fitting of a king, nearly mirroring the appearance of his usual clothes. The only thing that remained the same between the outfits was his sheathed katana. His trusty blade never left his side.

(As if she could blame him. Not when she always kept a carefully concealed dagger or two hidden on her person at all times if she couldn’t summon any of her weapons from the aether.)

Silva felt his curious eyes on her no matter what she did. Whether she lingered around her Lyse and some of the ladies in their friend group, catching up. She felt them burn into her when she shared dances with Ricmorn, her uncle, or other nobles vying for her attention. She felt them when she flagged down a server for flute glasses filled with bubbly wine to down in several gulps as she felt the heat of his gaze — a poor attempt to cool herself down. To stop the flush staining her cheeks from bleeding down her neck and into her chest. None of it worked.

Of course, it didn’t. Hien and Ricmorn just had that effect on her.

The warmth spreading across her skin and body worsened when she caught him and her husband staring at her from across the room. Hungry sky-blue and peridot orbs traced invisible paths along her exposed skin and roamed up and down her leg when the long slit exposed the limb. It was as if they touched her without using their hands and fingers. Stealing the air from her lungs and making her heart threaten to beat free from her chest with their eyes alone. They knew all the places they could graze and linger on her body to make her sing. To make her come undone, time and time again.

Such sweet, arousing torture and no one else in the room was none the wiser. It was unbelievably unfair.

Eventually, after nearly two and a half bells of distractions and discussing duties, the young lord made her way over to her. Silva stood in the back of the room beside Ricmorn when Aymeric called for attention as he readied some speech about how grateful he and the other Alliance leaders were for the mass attendance that practically made the Auri couple invisible. She tried her best not to laugh at something her husband muttered under his breath when she felt muted sparks run up her arm as gentle fingers grazed her skin. Sea-green eyes turned and found peridot orbs staring right back at her, filled with amusement as Hien grinned at her.

“May I steal you away for a moment, Silva?” he murmured, keeping his voice low so no one overheard.

What a silly thing to ask, as if he needed to ask her such a question in the first place. As if she somehow wouldn’t willingly say yes and follow him wherever he went.

Excitement swelled within her chest. “Of course,” she breathed, returning Hien's smile. And praying she didn’t sound as breathless aloud as she did in her horns.

Judging by how Ricmorn smirked out of the corner of her eye, her silent prayer fell deaf to the gods and kami.

“Ricmorn, if anyone asks—”

“Done. Do not worry about it, my dear,” he promised, gently squeezing her waist before letting go. The second he did, Hien’s arm warped around her in his place. “Go enjoy your moment alone with him. I’ll find you both should people start to annoy me with ridiculous questions.”

Bless him — she didn’t know what she would do without him.

She murmured her thanks before slipping away with the young lord, which was surprisingly easy for them to do as Aymeric still spoke to the room.

The Doman pair did their best to be quick but silent. Stifling their laughter with their hands or by biting their lips and tongues. They traveled down several hallways, some long and some short, until they found a little alcove far away enough from the rest of the guests to tuck themselves into. Their rumbling chuckles and bubbly giggles finally broke free then, knowing they were alone and safe.

And the second her back hit the cool stone wall behind her, and he caged her in, they let themselves get lost in one another.

Silva breathed his name before his mouth slanted over hers, one of his hands settling at her slender waist while the other carefully weaved fingers into her hair. The kiss was deep, lingering, and full of longing and sweetness of reunion after being apart for so long. But there was a hunger there. It simmered between them, waiting for the right moment to break free. She could feel it with each brushing of their lips — tasted it on her tongue. She sensed it in the way Hien gradually pressed his body into hers, further pressing her into the wall. Almost as if he could somehow meld himself to her.

And she wanted it and everything else he had to offer.

So when she felt his warm tongue run along the seam of her mouth, a teasing flick that made desire burn brightly within her, she let him in. Silva parted her mouth for him to do as he pleased, her arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders, coaxing him closer. Pulling him impossibly closer to her until he groaned into her opened mouth. Oh— Oh, if that strangled sound didn’t further ignite the heat building in her core. His tongue found hers to tangle and dance with as he devoured her soft whimpers. Kisses so hot and bruising and oh so right. The little sounds turned into a sharp moan when he tightened his fingers in her short purple and magenta waves, tilting her head slightly to the side so he could lick deeper into her mouth. And she let him. She let him take and take and take from her until her lungs screamed for air.

“[My heart!]” the dancer gasped after she forced her mouth away from his. The cold Ishgard air burned as it went down her throat and filled her lungs, cooling her from the inside out.

Hien hummed at the moniker she used with him — and only him. His lips moved to her jaw and throat, leaving behind kisses, swipes of tongue, and gentle grazing of teeth wherever they went. None of it was hard enough to decorate her skin with scarlet marks, but kami, he wished. “[Wildflower,]” he rumbled against her throat, placing a feather-light kiss over her thundering pulse. “[My beloved wildflower, I have missed you so.]”

And she missed him just as much.

Silva cupped his face and tugged his mouth back to hers, stealing more of his addicting kisses while they were alone. The new kisses were slower, more patient. They weren't as heated as the last ones they exchanged. But the hunger was still there, lingering under the surface. An unspoken promise of more for later on when they were behind locked doors and naked.

A promise they both looked forward to fulfilling.

When they parted again, Hien rested his forehead against hers. Their warm breaths mingled in the cold air as they took a few minutes to calm their racing hearts. But neither of them moved away from the other, keeping her trapped between his strong body and the stone wall. Silva didn’t mind the proximity after craving it for so long — not after being away from him for weeks.

She was right where she wanted to be — where she needed to be.

“Hey.”

She flashed him a smile. “Hey.”

The young lord pressed a soft kiss to her slightly parted lips, his nose brushing against hers. “You look beautiful tonight, Silva,” he murmured, his eyes roaming over her flushed face. “Absolutely radiant.”

The dress she wore for tonight’s gala was everything. It fit her perfectly and showed off her curves, hugging her in the right places. And the slit in her skit— He couldn’t begin to count how many times his eyes roamed up and down her lean leg every time it peeked out from it. How the fabric would move like the night sky full of glittering stars when she twirled while dancing, and all he could focus on were those damned legs— They distracted him from conversations. They made his fingers twitch with the urge and need to run his palms up them, feeling the muscle underneath her light blue-gray skin flutter at his touch.

He grinned when she giggled at the compliment, hearing her long tail swish against the fabric of her skirt. “Thank you,” she said, tracing her fingers against his jawline. His neatly trimmed beard tickled her fingertips, and she looked forward to feeling it scrape against her skin later. “You look very dashing yourself, [my lord.]”

The compliment rewarded her with the pink blush on his cheeks turning red. “It’s very different from my usual garb,” he laughed. “A little more restricting when it comes to movement, but a few of my more traditional advisors insisted I wear it.”

It was Silva’s turn to hum. Her other lover could wear a popoto sack, and she would still think he was one of the most attractive people on the star — next to Ricmorn, of course. “It’s different, yes, but lovely,” she assured, letting her hand fall to his chest. Even through the layers of soft fabric, she could feel the beating of his heart. And it matched the beating of her heart. “And besides, you still have your blade with you. That’s something they could never pry from your hands.”

He would have to be cold and dead before that ever happened.

Hien smirked. “To be fair, I have two swords with me, [wildflower.]”

She blinked, confused by his words. Did… did he just—

“Did you just make a cock joke?” Silva snorted when his smirk grew, and he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Perhaps.”

“Good gods, really— You’ve been spending too much time around Ricmorn.” There was more she wanted to say, but the flicker of heat in his hazel eyes made her hold her tongue.

“How can I not be hard and aching for you when we’ve been apart longer than either of us would like?” the young lord teased. He loved the way the Raen’s breath hitched when his hand found the slit in her skirt. He palmed his way up her thigh, starting just behind her knee, so ever slowly. His fingers lightly dug into her skin, feeling the muscles underneath flex and flutter at his touch. Desire burned in her sea-green orbs as she gazed up at him, arching into him as his hand continued to glide up and up and up. “When you walked into the ballroom looking like this? All dressed up and ready for a good time. Wrapped up in pretty fabric like you’re a gift, begging to be opened and used.”

And when his hand ran over the curve of her ass, groping her through the thin, lacy smalls she wore under her gown, she growled. Low, rumbling, and deep. Kami— he loved that sound.

Hien leaned closer, his lips ghosting over the pretty ivory scales below her horn, savoring the small whimpers she made. “And we both know I’ll have you begging at some point tonight.” Oh, how sweetly she begs for him and Ricmorn — especially when she’s on her knees.

Silva laughed as she shook her head. Light and breathy. With a hint of a whine somewhere in the middle. He chuckled along with her.

“You are mad, [my heart.] A troublemaker. A tease—”

“Hm… You don’t say such things when you’re busy gasping and moaning while being filled with mine or your husband’s co—”

Seven fucking hells!

She gasped, eyes growing wide as she pressed a hand to his mouth. “Hien Rijin!” The lilac flush staining her cheeks darkened when he laughed again, amusement dancing in his gaze. And she couldn’t deny how levin ran down her spine when his eyes followed the blush bleeding down her neck and chest.

How his eyes lingered there for several heartbeats before flicking back to her, and the lust in them was enough to turn her to ash.

Gods— The temperature in the little alcove they found suddenly felt sweltering. The cold stone digging into her back provided her no relief.

“Sorry… not sorry,” he quipped. “You’re too fun to taunt and tease, [wildflower.]” When she rolled her eyes, Hien kissed the small patch of ivory scales. His heart fluttered against his ribs when a pleased trill escaped her, filling the air. “Perhaps it is time we gather Ricmorn and sneak out of this party. Lock ourselves behind closed doors and away from prying eyes. What do you think?”

“The great Lord of Doma wants to leave an Alliance function early to spend a night of debauchery with the two Warriors of Light?” she asked aloud in mock disbelief.

Hien snorted. The amused sound made her giggle, but those quickly turned into a moan when he grabbed her ass again. “You say that as if you’re not also tumbling the question around in that pretty head of yours, sweetheart,” he rasped beside her horn.

“...Fair enough.”

They’d all been at the party long enough, and her heels were killing her. She was ready to leave and spend the rest of the night with her two lovers in a warm bed.

Silva reached for her right horn, searching for her linkpearl. Once finding the small device, she switched through several different channels until she found the one she needed and pressed a button to begin the call. It only rang once before the person on the other side answered.

“Yes?”

“Are you alone?”

She swallowed when Ricmorn’s deep laughter rang in her horn. “For the moment. Lyse was keeping me company until she got dragged away by Alisaie. My only saving grace from Aymeric’s annoyed gaze.” There was a small pause before a growl broke it. “Which he’s still giving me as we speak.”

That wasn’t surprising to her.

“Ignore him, my love,” she soothed. “Go gather our things and meet us at our house in Ul’dah.”

If anyone were to look for them, it was the one place not many people would go. They would go to her apartment in Kugane or Doma first.

Elation mixed with the heat of desire washed over the soulbond the Auri couple shared. “Riled you up, did he? That didn’t take long, Silv. I told you before we left he wouldn’t be able to take his hands off of you.”

“Ricmorn—”

He chuckled. “Go— I’ll see you both in a few minutes.”

The call ended with a soft click. Silva returned her attention to Hien and flashed him a smile full of bright teeth and fangs.

“Come, [my heart,]” she purred, stealing a kiss from his soft lips. He tightened his hold on her, sharply inhaling when she brushed the tip of her long tail against his leg. “We have a long, fun night ahead of us.”

"That we do, [my beloved wildflower.]"

#ffxiv writing #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv #silva writes #hien x wol #hienwol #wol x wol #hien x wol x wol #ffxiv writers #poly ship #fluffvember ffxiv things #Fluffvember FFXIV Edition

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moonlightsolo · 2 years ago

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eddie the bloody handed III

summary: unfortunately, being stuck in the upside has some side effects. you'll try your best to fight the terrors, but will you be strong enough?

pairing: vampire!eddie x female reader

warnings: very graphic depictions of death, gore & blood, angst, kinda sad not gonna lie, major spoilers for vol. 2, main character getting hurt!!

note: sorry for this being so delayed. i’ve been so busy with my new job!! ily all so much. i hope you enjoy (this v long) ending!!! i'm also so sorry if i didn't tag you i have sooo many people asking and its hard to keep track.

the search for eddie munson continues in the hawkins that you were once apart of. the town that mirrors the world you’re in, but still the one you cannot return to.

being stuck in the upside down with eddie isn’t the worst thing to happen, other than the constant darkness and thunder.

having him with you has its perks- most importantly, you get to roam the upside down with him freely, without having to worry about the police, or even the military chasing after him.

but of course, that’s not without some complications. the issue being, reoccurring visions happening only to you.

ever since turning into this creature-like form, you’re been bound to eternal consciousness, so dreaming comes in different forms now.

it’s almost like a meditative state where a scene plays behind your eyes after relaxing, whether you’re standing up, or sitting down. these types of ‘dreams’ are the most peaceful. the other commonly occurring ones suddenly transport you into another realm.

one that’s filled with gruesome images of your family and friends perishing in the fires spreading across hawkins. other times, it replays the entire scene of you mourning over eddie’s dead body, but in a third person perspective.

whenever your mind decides to bring you back, every ounce of energy is drained from you. you’re supposed to be superhuman, but it seems as if you’ve found your own weakness.

or maybe, your weakness has finally caught up to you.

whenever you go into this trance, eddie sits by your side the whole time. he doesn’t bother you, or try to wake you up anymore. it’s been happening so frequently, he knows what does and doesn’t work by now.

every time is happens though, he’s just as worried as the one before. the way the white of your eyes flicker in your head reminds him of chrissy floating in his living room. thankfully, you never float, but you do twitch quite a lot.

you suck in a sharp breath, eyes blowing open as your body falls backward towards the ground.

“shit, baby. i got you.” eddie’s hand cradles your head before you could make contact with the dirt.

“oh my god. oh my god.” your hoarse voice mutters out as you blindly reach for your boyfriend. your hand grips his bicep, making him lean forward to pull your limp body into his lap.

“jesus, that was a long one. are you alright?” he breathes out as his hand gently caresses your head, smoothing your hair back.

“no, no. i saw- i saw you and- me… we were- we were dead, eddie…” you finally open your eyes to look up at him, tears already threatening to spill past your waterline. everything rushes back to you. eddie and you were simply taking a stroll together, then everything goes black.

“dead?” he questions, eyebrows furrowing, “as us? before we turned or how we are now?”

“how we are… now.” you breathe out, your hand reaches up to cup his face and make sure he’s real and not a vision.

“i’m here, baby. i’m right here.” he sighs, his eyes are full of worry as he stares down at you.

“i think we need to tell dustin.” he suggests with a cautious voice, making you shake your head vigorously.

“no way. no. i can’t have him open his mouth and tell everyone about my.. my problems.” you shudder in his arms, making him pull you even closer into his chest.

the thunder above your head cracks, the familiar flash of red lightning darts across the sky.

“i’ll make sure he doesn’t tell anyone, but we need his help. you need his help.”

silently, you begin weeping into his chest as you come to terms with telling dustin. having these involuntary visions take over you is physically and mentally draining. you can’t keep doing this forever.

“okay, fine.” your voice shakes with fear as you keep your face pressed into eddie’s metallica band tee. it slightly smells of clean laundry from when mike and nancy brought down some clothes for you both.

“whenever he comes by to drop us off food next, we’ll tell him.” you breathe out, nails slightly digging into the muscles of his back as if you’ll be pulled away from him.

“okay, my love. anything you want. i just want you to be better. i can’t stand seeing you like this.” he coos out softly to you, pressing a cool kiss to your forehead.

the two of you sit like that for a few more minutes, basking in the glory of having each other’s arms tangled between your bodies. eddie slightly adjusts you so his arms are securely wrapped around your waist.

using all his strength, he easily lifts you up with him and launches you both into the sky. his wings flap loudly behind him, bringing you both right below the crackling clouds.

on the ride back to the house, your eyes slowly drift shut. you’re left unable to fall asleep, hoping it be different from every other time you’ve attempted to drift off. instead, you let your body go fully limp in his arms. your jaw unclenches from its gritted-state, and your tense shoulders drop away from your ears. you pay attention to the sound of wind whooshing past your face, how the cold air bites at your skin.

in the back of eddie’s mind, he has a gut wrenching feeling that vecna is still alive and is weakening your mind to get inside of it.

he begs to whatever god is up there that this feeling isn’t true, that you’re not being brainwashed by the king of the upside down.

eddie spots your shared home, descending down to the front door step. he swoops you into his arms, bridal-style and carry’s you into the living room to lay you down on the couch.

your hooded red eyes flutter open to look up at him, giving him a soft smile. “thank you for taking care of me, eds.” you whisper.

your words make a grin curl up on his face, “of course. anything for you, my princess.” his hand slightly pushes your hair out of your face, before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“i’m gonna go find a gate for dustin to come through, then i’ll be back, okay? just stay here and rest.” he pats your cheek with his fingers, grinning down at you cheekily.

“hurry back.” you mumble, slightly pouting at the fact you can’t go with him.

“i will. don’t you worry.” he leans down once more to kiss your lips, before pulling away and walking out the front door.

you watch through the front window as he takes off into the sky, disappearing past the frame and out of sight.

with a loud sigh, you turn onto your side to face the back of the couch. your fingers trace the fabric, going over each neatly stitched line with your nail.

something in your chest tugs painfully, making you gasp for air. your eyes close briefly, just for a moment, before they reopen to be met with a entire new environment around you.

everything is crimson. the sky, the dampened floor beneath your feet, and even the fog that seeps out of the depths of the unearthly dimension.

your eyes dart around to examine your new surroundings, noticing floating fixtures in the sky. mostly pieces of splintered wood, grandfather clocks wrapped in slimy tentacles, and pieces of colored glass.

large inky stalagmites stand high from the ground, surrounding the area in a formation that grows more dense as you walk forward. a substance seems to have created a film over the entire area, creating a sticky sound as your feet pick up pace.

“eddie?!” you scream out, voice echoing. terror runs through your veins once you stop walking, but the sound of footsteps continue.

your head whips around, spinning your body at all angles to find out where it’s coming from. “who’s that?.. who’s here?” you scream out, tears threatening to spill from your waterline.

you attempt to fly upwards to escape, but your wings refuse to extend from behind you. your head peeks past your shoulders to look at them, eyes widening in horror at the sight. the skin is ripped between each quadrant of your wings, making you unable to take flight.

“why did you do this to me?!” you screech out, fists clenched by your sides. you bend down so your chest is against your knees, but you don’t dare to sit down fully on the wet ground. your hands go over your ears, eyes closing as you let out a sob.

“do not cry, my dear child.” a deep menacing voice booms from every direction, making your eyes slowly open to look around.

“what…?” you breathe out in shock, blinking out tears.

“there is no reason to be afraid. you’re safe here.”

“who are you?” you whimper out, bottom lip quivering.

“who am i?” the voice almost laughs as if you should know, “i am you. we are one. you’re mine, my weapon.”

“your weapon?” you question out loud to the booming voice.

“that will become known to you later.”

you go to speak again, but the ominous voice cuts you off once more.

“don’t ask questions, child. just know you will be used for a greater purpose.”

and just like that, you’re sucked back into reality. you gasp for breath that you’ve lost, feeling as if you’re suffocating, which is impossible.

your eyes dart around the living room, seeing that you’re still alone on the couch, and eddie hasn’t returned yet.

is the voice you heard, vecna? the only person who would know what he sounds like are either dead, or not in the same dimension as you.

your legs kick off the couch to stand, taking a few powerful steps before your legs give out completely underneath you.

your body topples downwards, slamming against the grimy wood floor. you grunt as you rise to your hands and knees, lifting your head up to look at the front door. it seems so close, yet so far away.

slowly, you crawl forward. you can feel your bones straining under the pressure of your muscles, crackling with every movement.

just as you’re about to stand up, the door flies open. eddie is standing behind it with dustin, both of their eyes fall down to stare at you on the floor.

half of the boys face is covered by a bandana, but you can it’s him by the curly hair.

it takes eddie a moment to realize what is going on, before his brain clicks and he rushes towards you, “oh baby. why did you get up? you need to rest.” his arms lift you up by your armpits, helping you stand to your feet carefully.

“is she okay?” dustin’s voice sounds from behind eddie’s back, a little hesitant to walk inside.

munson grunts as he wobbles with you back over to the couch, sitting you down on it. you slightly wince in pain as you lean back against the plush fabric, letting your head fall back against it.

“no, she’s not. she-.” eddie is cut off by dustin walking toward you, “what’s that?” he asks, his eyes squinting as he points to your neck.

eddie bends down slightly to get a better look, “huh. i don’t know. i don’t have that.”

“what is it?” you refuse to move, completely freezing every movement coming from your body.

“your skin… right under your shirt.” eddie’s cool fingers hook around the neckline of your top, tugging it down over your collarbone.

dustin hisses at the sight, “goddamn."

black has infiltrated your icy white veins, turning them a gray color under your skin. it slowly creeps beneath your shirt, directly towards your heart. the black branches throughout your vessels, barely noticeable under the thin fabric of your top, other than a gray hue that creeps past your collar.

“what the hell is it?!” you demand them to tell you with blown worry-filled eyes.

“baby… your veins. they’re turning… black?” eddie’s eyes travel up your extended neck to watch your reaction.

your face screws up in confusion, hand slowly raising to touch the spot eddie was looking at it. “it feels normal, it doesn’t hurt?”

“i don’t know what it is.” eddie shoots a worried glance at dustin, who shares the same look.

“will… he had- uh, something like that when the mindflayer possessed him.”

your head flies up to direct your eyesight at dustin instead of the ceiling, “are you saying i’m possessed?”

“no, no. it just, looks similar.” dustin tries to play it off.

“don’t sugarcoat it, henderson. tell me.” your voice is bitter, blood-red eyes staring daggers into his.

“well, i’d say… it looks the exact same as his, but i mean, i don’t know! it could be some vampire cold or something…?” he chuckles awkwardly, standing up straight to back away from you slightly.

“vampire cold, really?” you scoff, “that doesn’t explain the-the visions. the horrible, terrible, realistic hallucinations i’ve been having.”

dustin worriedly glances at eddie once more before looking back at you, “visions? hallucinations?”

“yes, dustin. didn’t you just hear me?“ you bite back frustratingly.

“i heard you. loud and clear.” he mumbles with a sassy roll of his eyes, “max told us… before everything happened. that she was having visions. before, ya know, vecna almost got her for the first time.”

as dustin explains what max’s symptoms were, a deafening ring starts in your ears. whether it’s because of pure shock, or the mention of your death possibly being much closer than you’ve imagined.

the high-pitched sound drowns out every sound as you blink, and attempt to swallow. your throat is terribly dry, so you let out a hoarse cough. your eyes blink slowly as you stand to your feet, pushing past eddie and dustin.

you can barely hear them protesting to what you’re doing. eddie’s hand grabs at yours but you swiftly pull it away.

you take a deep breath, getting a whiff of fresh metallic blood pumping through dustin’s veins. your head snaps toward him, but you’re suddenly distracted by the plastic bag in his hands.

the ringing in your ears instantly halts, “the food?”

dustin looks at eddie, a bit of a fearful look in his eye. eddie gestures with his head, “hand it over before you become dinner.” a little mischievous smirk pulls up on his mouth, making dustin shudder.

the boys arm darts out from his side nervously, giving you the bag with a trembling hand. you shoot him a grateful smile as you take it, opening the bag to be met with the most scrumptious smell ever.

your hand reaches inside to grip a jiggly bag full of fluid. your fingers grip the pouch to pull it out, mouth salivating at the sight of the blood. “where did you get this?” you hiss out softly, licking your lips.

“el… she uh- took it from the hospital when we visited max...” dustin voice quivers, eyes watching you carefully.

you bring the bag to your lips, letting your fangs puncture the plastic surface. the warm liquid floods your mouth, causing you to let out a soft groan as you savor the delectable taste.

eddie can’t help but stare at you in awe, before looking down at dustin who is intensely watching you. “alright, buddy. let’s get you back home.” eddie pats his back and leads him to the front door.

as you suck the blood bag dry, you can’t help but feel an overwhelming amount of guilt. something you’ve never felt as you feasted on blood.

your chest constricts with anxiety, dread settling deep in your belly. your throat closes up, making you choke on the blood you’re swallowing. you sputter on the liquid, causing it to spray out of your mouth and splatter over your face.

“fuck-“ you cough and squeeze your eyes shut even tighter as your throat burns. your hands grip your throat as you struggle with the pain searing the inside of your throat.

your eyes fly open, looking straight into the milky eyes of a monster. instinctively, you attempt to get yourself as far away from it as possible, but seems that you can’t move.

the pain radiates from your neck and travels up to your eyes, feeling as if they will pop out of your skull at any given moment.

“hm, strange girl. look at you.” his familiar gravelly voice slithers past his lips.

vecna’s long, branch-like fingers are wrapped around your neck, hovering you above the floor. he turns you from side to side to examine you, the look in his eyes sends shivers down your spine.

“you’re weak. you should not be telling them about the gifts i have given you. i’ve been trying to strengthen you!” he shouts the last sentence, his grip tightening on your neck. you can feel your skin crackling under the pressure.

“please.” your voice whispers, blinking out tears that are flooding your waterline.

“do not beg. i have given you everything! things i did not know were possible. things i did not know even i were capable of!” his voice booms in your face, causing you to wince.

“the man with you should not have lived, but my winged creatures gave him another chance. he is taking it for granted.”

the sound of eddie being mentioned made your eyes widen even more if it was possible, “no, don’t hurt him. i’ll do anything! just don’t hurt him…” your voice croaks out, more tears spill down your cheeks.

“anything for this boy?” he chuckles, a menacing smile pulls up on his skinned cheeks.

“anything.” your strained voice squeaks out, feeling as if your esophagus is collapsing at this very moment.

the grip around your throat is loosened, his hand drops down to his side. once your feet touch the ground, you stumble backwards into the wall behind you. your hands grasp at your throat, carefully touching the sore skin there to make sure your head is still attached to your shoulders.

before you could fully recover, your body is slammed against the wall by an unseen force holding you in place. you whimper as you struggle, attempting to fight against the power.

“let go.” his voice rumbles inside of your head, making your eyes blow in shock. the pressure inside your skull grows heavier, making you cry out from the pain. he continues his assault on your brain, using every ounce of his powers to infiltrate it.

the monster lets out a soft grunt, just before everything goes black. it feels as if you’re swimming in your own mind, floating in the bliss of your thoughts and memories. the pure vast nothingness is almost calming, and cathartic.

consciousness hits you like a freight train, sucking back into reality with a frenzy of screams falling from your lips. your limbs kick and hit anything that’s around you, attempting to protect your physical form by any means.

“baby, baby, baby!” eddie’s voice calls out, his hands wrap around your wrists to pin them down. your eyes fly open, pupils shrinking to slits. you involuntarily lunge at his face with a hiss, baring your sharp fangs angrily.

“woah, woah. it’s okay.” his voice is soft and comforting, his legs are on either side of your hips to hold you in place.

your brain scrambles to think of why you’re so angry with him and why you feel this deep burning of fury in your chest. nothing pops up, nothing.

“eddie.” your voice whispers out desperately for him, “i’m so sorry. i don’t know what’s wrong with me.” you sniffle, and whimper under your breath. you squeeze your eyes shut, turning your head to the side.

one of his hands let go of your wrist to turn your face towards him, “nothings wrong with you. it’s okay.” his voice is reassuring, but it doesn’t sound like he believes his own words.

eddie looks over your neck, seeing the black has spread throughout your empty veins. it’s making its way up to your face, branching across your jawbone. he completely pulls back from you, eyes going wide as he watches your face contort as if you’re holding yourself back from doing something.

a deep evil cackles falls from your lips, one that doesn’t sound like you. “babe…” he trails off, standing up to his feet and taking a few steps back.

“don’t run away from us.” your voice is raspy, as a sickening smile curls on your lips.

the sentence sends a shiver down his spine, making him gulp and freeze in his spot. “us?” he questions.

you sit straight up, bottom lip toying with the point of your fangs as you grin.

eddie watches as your face grimaces as if you’re in pain, before the stomach-turning cheshire cat grin forms on your face again. you’re in there somewhere.

“baby. be strong. don’t let it take over.” he attempts to call out to you, making your face screw up in pain once again.

the smile flickers off your face, and you hide yourself behind the palms of your hands, “it hurts. i can’t.” your weak voice mutters out, your shoulders shake as you weep. you need to get away from eddie before you do something you’ll regret.

swiftly, you rise to your feet and extend your wings to blow air directly at him. the force of it causes eddie to stumble back into the couch, falling over the side. you drop to your feet, watching him scramble for a moment before sprinting out the front door and into the sky.

eddie curses under his breath as his hair covers his eyes, trying his hardest to get back on his feet. he hears the door slam open, and the whooshing of your wings flying away. he rolls over onto the floor and springs up before running outside to look for you in the air. he screams out your name before taking off after you.

his eyes roam every corner of the demented hawkins, searching for you with dread in his chest. you haven’t left his side since you came down here to look for him when you were human. he can’t lose you again, he can’t.

an idea pops into his head, making him do a u-turn in the sky and fly back to the house. he bursts into your bedroom through the window, and lands in front of your desk. his hands scavenge for loose paper and a pen, making a mess of the already destroyed bedroom.

he finally finds both, letting out a little ‘aha!’ before scribbling down a note:

‘I need all of you. Now. Hurry the fuck up. -E.M.’

eddie folds the paper and slips it into his jean pocket, before, quite literally, flying down the steps and out the door. he bursts into the sky like a rocket ship, kicking up inter-dimensional dirt around him.

he flies to the exact spot where he knows there’s a gate that leads to the normal world. he hops in place, shaking out his hands nervously as he stares down into the hole of the slithering gate.

he thinks of you; of how you’re suffering, and how this moment will only cause him a momentary amount of pain, “fuck it.” he grips the paper in his pocket, before reaching his hand down into the gate.

searing pain instantly burns at his skin, making it bubble at the surface. he seethes through his teeth, turning his head away until he can feel fresh air on the other side. he flicks the paper into the gate before pulling his hand back out.

“mother fucking shit fuck!” he shouts and stomps his foot before looking down at his hand that’s obviously toasted.

eddie plops down on the ground, covering his wound with his shirt with another hiss. he drops his head to his knees and whines softly in pain, taking slow deep breaths to try and calm himself.

eddie waits for hours on end, rolling around in pain, and attempting to sleep but to no avail. a suctioning sound next to his head puffs out a piece of paper, sending the lightweight object fluttering downward to him. he watches as it casually soars through the air.

once it’s arms length away, he snatches it and opens it up to read the inside:

‘We’re coming. Get ready.’ reads someone’s scribbled handwriting below his note.

before he could even react, a large bag full of who knows what flies out of the gate and lands directly on his chest. “what… the… fuck!” he puffs out before shoving the heavy duffel bag off his chest and standing to his feet.

he glances at his hand for a moment, noticing that it’s already starting to heal. his attention is quickly taken away from himself as two hands reach through the portal to grip the sides and pull themselves through. he can tell just by the floppy hair, it’s steve harrington.

once the voluminous-haired man stands up tall and brushes off his knees, he turns to eddie. he slightly jumps at his presence before putting his hands on his hips to try and play it cool, “oh! hey man, didn’t expect to see you here.” he chuckles nervously.

he keeps his eyes on eddie before he bends down over the gate to grip the other hand extending through. he pulls through dustin, who is followed by eleven, robin, and will. next to come through is jonathan, and nancy.

“no sinclair?” eddie questions, making dustin’s head perk up.

“nah, he’s with max.” henderson mumbles quietly as he unzips the infamous bag to take out all the weapons they must’ve packed.

nancy grabs her shotgun, jonathan is handed a revolver, and steve is handed a bat with nails and screws sticking out of it, who then passes it on to dustin.

harrington grabs an axe from the inside, swinging it around before putting the sharp side over his shoulder. “everyone ready to beat an aliens ass?”

“he’s not an alien.” eleven states with no emotion in her voice, before walking away from the group, “follow me.”

steve’s eyes dart between everyone before shrugging and ultimately listens to her. the rest of the group follows her into the forest, leaving robin and eddie near the gate. “alright, i guess we should go.” eddie clears his throat and begins walking with her.

robin trails behind the group to walk with him, “so…. this whole vampire-bat-immortal thing? is it cool?”

“is it cool?” he chuckles, shaking his head, “it’s cooler when everyone around you isn’t human.” he says playfully with a grin.

“isn’t human? are you insinuating you want to eat all of us?” she says with a surprised tone to her voice.

“pretty much, yeah…” he laughs breathily, throwing his head back as he does so.

robin can’t help but cackle along with him, hitting his shoulder with her fist playfully.

nancy turns around to shush them with her index finger pressed tight to her lips.

“jeez, why’s she so uptight?” eddie grumbles and scratches the back of his neck awkwardly.

the group finally stumbles upon a clearing, stopping in their tracks as they look over the eeriness of the creel house. the red flashes in the sky, showing the silhouette of the mindflayer looming above.

it’s pointed head is thankful to faced away from them, but it’s standing guard of the house. “what the fuck.” eddie breathes out softly over the kids shoulders, making nancy turn around and stare him down like a disapproving mom.

“m’sorry.” he puts his hands up in surrender, before returning his attention back to the monster in the sky.

“heat. heat will hurt it.” will blurts out, his eyes don’t dare to leave it or even blink. eddie glances to the boy, who seems extremely frightened.

steve pulls something out of his backpack, and grabs a lighter that’s in his side pocket. “who’s ready to make a wildfire?”

“a wildfire? are you serious? you realize that we still have to go through the forest after we get her back?” dustin’s eyes are wide as he lectures steve.

“there’s a gate inside the house.” eleven interrupts the bickering, her features obviously screwed up in annoyance.

“so you guys didn’t conjure up a miraculous plan before you decided to come down here?” eddie laughs in disbelief, shaking his head.

everyone turns to him, before their eyes dart around to each other. “uh… no. i guess not.” steve gulps slightly then looks down at his shuffling feet.

“fuck it.” eddie grumbles, grabbing the liquor bottle from steve’s hands and snatching the lighter from the other, “on my cue. you run into the house.” eddie flashes a grin at steve and winks.

“wait!“ somebody calls out, but eddie has already launched himself into the air. he shields the lighter from the wind with one hand as he lights the fabric hanging out of the neck of the bottle.

it instantly catches, making his eyes blow up wide. he has a matter of seconds to throw this thing before the fire reaches the inside, “hey fucker!”

the mindflayer let’s out a blood-curdling roar that seems to make the trees tremble in fear.

eddie hovers in the air, feeling himself growing more uneasy as the monster closes in on him. he cranks his arm back, aiming the fireball in his hand directly at it’s face. he takes a deep breath before catapulting the bottle out of his grip.

eddie watches as the bottle spins in the air and makes direct contact with the monster. it lets out another roar as the fire burns, and falls into the trees below.

one of its long limbs comes up right beside eddie, the sound of wind is the only thing he can hear as it comes closer to his head.

“shit!” he dodges the flayers attempt to hit him. he flies back and forth and up and down, taking his attention off the monster for a moment. his eyes dart down to the ground, seeing that the group is making their way towards the entrance of the house.

he notices that the fire is starting to grow stronger beneath his feet, the heat prickles at his skin. the wavy refraction builds higher as he leads the monster farther into the fiery inferno of the forest.

the squeals of the slithering tentacles are ear-piercing as they burn up on the ground. the gigantic monster grows angrier by the second, roaring with each searingly painful stomp it takes towards him.

eddie ducks as he dodges another weak attack, “come on! is that all you got?” he hits his own chest as he shouts at it.

eddie takes off into the sky, going as high as he possibly could go. one of its twirling arms swiftly follows his tail, swiping at his feet at every chance it can get.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” eddie chants out, feeling his wings grow tired from the heavy amount of exertion. the monster let’s out another horrendously intense outcry, making eddie glance to see that it’s unable to follow him anymore.

he lets out a soft surprised laugh, his chest heaving as he watches it struggle in the fire blazing around it. it’s trapped.

eddie watches as the flames engulf its body until it’s no longer able to be seen. the arm that was chasing him disappears beneath the flames. he quickly makes a beeline towards the house, landing harshly on one of his knees on the front steps. he stands up straight before pushing through the door, eyes squinted into slits. he focuses in on the people carefully crawling past the slimy appendages covering the steps.

“i need a weapon.” he mutters to himself, completely ignoring the people on the steps as he looks around. he steps over the tentacles as he crosses into another room, instantly finding a large sword accompanied by a faux knight armor set.

eddie mentally debates if he should take the armor and use it, but he grabs the sword and heads back to the staircase. “let’s go. i need to get my girl back.” he jumps past all of them by flying over their heads and to the top of the staircase.

“are you guys ready?” steve asks the group, who all nod hesitantly.

eleven takes a step forward, “i think me and… him should go up first.” she gestures to eddie, who grins like an idiot.

“you can call me eddie.” he twirls the sword in his hand boisterously.

“okay… eddie. let’s go.” she starts walking with him in tow, climbing up the attic steps to vecna’s lair.

“eleven and the true monster of them all. you’re finally here. i’ve been waiting.” his raspy voice booms out.

eddie stops in his tracks when he sees vecna hanging from the ceiling by the same slimy arms they couldn’t step on. he looks down to the side, seeing a winged body slumped in the corner. it’s you.

he goes to take a step forward, but he’s stopped by the girl. “not yet.” she whispers.

“i see you’ve defeated the guard… what do you call it? the mind-flayer?” vecna almost chuckles at the sound of its nickname.

“you’re brave to come here, eleven. after i defeated you in battle and hurt your precious, little friend… max.” he hisses out her name like a poisonous snake.

“do not say her name!” eleven shouts at him through gritted teeth.

vecna’s arm twitches by his side, making eleven fortify her stance. “now?” eddie whispers to her, “now.” she confirms with a slight curt nod. he motions with his hand behind his back for steve, nancy and jonathan to make their way up.

robin holds onto another makeshift molotov, already lit on fire. she pushes through eleven and eddie, throwing the fiery liquor bottle at vecna.

eleven uses her powers to push the bottle faster through through air, giving vecna no time to react. the bottle hits him, his body instantly explodes into flames.

he drops to his feet, away from the screeching tentacles that were attached to him. a hoarse groan falling from his mouth as he stands up with the fire blazing at his skin, “you think some fire will stop me?” he lets out a menacing laugh as his hands gradually rise into the air from his sides.

simultaneously, your wings expand from your quivering back as you stand tall to your feet. the mirrored laugh that leaves your body doesn’t sound like your own voice. the raspy cackle echoes in the small room, making eddie slightly step in front of eleven.

“whatever happens… just don’t kill her, yeah?” he glances back at el, who’s eyes are staring you down.

before she could reply to him, your body turns around slowly to face them. the look in your eyes terrifies him to his core, you look so scared but your chilling smile shows otherwise. the white of your eyes are almost grey, and the red of your irises are brighter than usual.

the veins in your body are black under the surface of your skin, the dark color prominent as the inky substance flows through you.

a loud monstrous screech reverberates out from your mouth, making some of the people gasp in shock from the high-pitched noise.

your legs lift off from the ground as you charge towards eleven and eddie, “baby! don’t do this!” eddie ducks from your swinging attacks in the air, trying his hardest to not get caught by you.

eleven continues to fight off vecna, using her powers and shoving him back. steve attempts to help eddie, but catches the back of your hand and is slammed against the wall of the attic. his body slumps to the ground as he goes unconscious.

“steve!” dustin cries out as he runs up the steps, making your head turn towards the boy. eddie glances from his crouched position, watching how you lick your lips, your black tongue swipes against your canines.

“no! don’t!” eddie shouts at you, but your attention is already on henderson. your wings flap loudly in the air as your talons swipe at the top of the boys head, attempting to grab him.

a pained screech falls from your lips as your body is frozen in the air, being lifted up and away from the boy.

eleven let’s out a guttural scream as she holds vecna and you in place in unison. her whole body shakes from using her powers past the maximum limit. her outstretched arms swiftly flick to the ground, slamming vecna and you to the creaky floor.

eddie watches in horror as your body convulses on the ground, whines of pain falling from your lips. “stop! stop!” he shouts at eleven, making her attention shift for a moment. he drops his sword to the ground to run up to you, falling to his knees as he grabs your face.

nancy uses this opportunity to stomp up to vecna with her shotgun, jamming lead into him as she reloads the gun multiple times. he lets out a horrendous scream, using his powers to send her flying backwards into jonathan.

eddie looks around at his fallen friends, seeing dustin is crouched over a barely conscious steve, nancy and jonathan are hurled over in pain, and eleven is barely strong enough to keep fighting against vecna.

“baby, you need to wake up. please come back to me.” he begs as his fingers tap your cold cheeks.

you let out another whimper, before your eyes flash open. the way you stare into his eyes, making his chest ache. “i’m here, i’m here for you, baby. please! we need you. i need you.” he rambles out, his eyes dart around the room.

the ringing in your ears is indescribable, the pain that bolts up your spine makes you wish for death. “….eddie.” your voice wheezes out, blinking harshly as you fight the blackness attempting to overtake your vision once more.

“it hurts…” you whine as you continue to fight against vecna’s powers attempting to take over your mind and body.

“you got this. you’re such a strong woman.”

his voice gradually brings you back to reality as he praises and begs for you to come back.

“i love you so much. please, i can’t lose you again.”

your trembling hand reaches to eddie’s discarded sword, gripping the handle.

in a matter of seconds, you burst into the air, sending eddie onto his back. with a warrior like yell, your body lunges at vecna with the sword drawn back. the monster goes to lift his hand to stop you, but eleven is too quick. she holds his weakened body with her powers, giving you full reign to bring the sword down and slice right through his neck.

you gasp as you watch his head thump to the ground and roll against the wooden floor. the room suddenly goes silent, his body follows with a heavy landing.

“oh my god. he’s dead.” will blurts out as he looks down at the body.

a little shocked laugh leaves your mouth as you stumble back, hands gripping your abdomen.

your eyes glance over at eddie, seeing that his wings have fallen limp to the ground. you look behind yourself, seeing yours are also laying on the ground alongside vecna.

you notice quite a lot of blood covering the monsters extremely long nails on one of his hands.

you glance down at your abdomen, eyes going wide when you finally notice how soaked your clothes are. your hand peels away from the black fabric, lifting it to your face when you see red has transferred onto your palm. “guys… i'm bleeding?” you lift your head up to see everyone staring at you worriedly.

pain erupts from the area you begin to coddle, “oh no…” you whimper, stumbling back in shock. your shoe catches on a lifted plank, making you fall to the ground.

“y/n!” eddie calls out to you as he runs up to your body. when his face comes into your field of vision, you notice pink flushed in his cheeks and his red eyes are chocolatey like the ones you adore.

“eddie.. oh, your eyes.” you smile through your tears, bloody hand lifting to cup his cheek. you can feel yourself growing more and more tired by the minute; the gurgle settling in your chest makes it hard for you to breathe.

“we need to get her to a hospital!” he lifts his head up to look at the people around him as he screams.

when he looks back down at you, he cries out for help once again. you’ve gone limp, and your head has fallen to the side. he lifts your body up with steve, robin, and nancy as they all stumble to the gate downstairs in the dining room.

once they get you safely in the gate, they bring you to steve’s car parked outside. eddie continues to mutters little prayers to himself as he holds your head on his lap, continuing to check your pulse as your breathing grows even more raspy.

“hurry up!“ he screams to steve, who is already weaving through traffic. the last thing you remember is his hand gently caressing your face as he tells urges you to stay awake.

the metallic smell of blood fills his senses, which would usually cause him to go into a frenzy. but now, all he can do is mourn for his girlfriend laying in his lap.

two months later.

the sound of chirping bugs outside makes eddie slightly smile as he rolls over in the plush bed.

his arm gently slings around your waist, letting his fingers dance across your scars. “mornin’ missus munson.” his voice rumbles out as he presses a soft kiss to your neck. he savors the rhythmic beating of your healthy heart against his lips.

eddie takes a deep breath to inhale your scent, it’s almost addictive.

your eyes flutter open with a soft hum bubbling past your lips, “morning, mister munson.” your hand cards through his hair, letting your nails gently scratch his scalp.

he shudders against your body, before swatting your hand away. “don’t get me riled up right now, beautiful.” he chuckles, “we gotta get on the road.” he sighs as he pops up out of bed, his warmth leaving you makes you groan.

“i know, but what’s…. like thirty minutes going to do?”

“thirty minutes? wow, you think very highly of my stamina.” he chuckles as he steps up to the sink in the kitchen area to brush his teeth.

you sit up in bed, taking in the view of your shirtless boyfriend brushing his teeth in your shared camper.

“you’ve lasted thirty minutes before.” you scoff with a cheeky grin.

“i have?“ he almost laughs in disbelief but toothpaste dribbles out of his mouth and onto his bottom lip.

“yes, you have- but anyway!” you change the subject, “what are we doin’ today?” you kick your feet off the bed to wobble up to him.

you wrap your arms around his waist from behind, letting your head rest on his spine, between his shoulder blades.

“we’re in the great smoky mountains, baby! we can do anything!” he exclaims theatrically, leaning down to spit and rinse his mouth. he turns around in your hold so you’re pressed against the sink, “i think thirty minutes won’t hold us back too far.” he smirks as he dips down to catch your lips with his own, his tongue instantly slides against yours.

after going through the worst ups and downs in your life you could have ever imagined- you truly can’t believe you’ll be waking up and going to sleep next to this man for the rest of your mornings and nights.

tags: @eddiemunsonslovelife @eddieussy @kylee-munson-barnes @llmae @vanessasweetie @lillyof-thevalley @taylorjqy @oscarisaacwhore @bellajg21 @explosiongamora @sadbitchfangirl @skyfullofsong123 @e-van-halen @shadowluna25 @whatinthefreshhellisthis @vllowe @gh0stboombox @shamidreamer @4l1fersss @xsuvs @barnaclebeeshive @simpinformunson @gooblerstan @0temp-erance0 @subjecta13-thefangirl @slut-for-sevika @sleepyb1txh @maskedmistress @weluvveddie @maddiethebanished @cjzelaitis @basiclassy @fuggiamodaqui @ap2x @bellsarmos @stiles-argent24 @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @elainavmarie @arminsgfloll @demo-bats @prettysbliss @slut4edd1emunson @erensslut @bootlegmothman420 @uuinter-soldier @m00nlight101 @korekiyoss @sllimyelim02 @sanitysfallisamazing @tubble-wubble @blairsbooktime @authorlovers @powerfultenderness

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dailytatsu · 3 years ago

Note

Heya! Can I request an Aether/Lumine & reader?

So reader is basically an immortal half-elf who've lived for centuries and a well refined fighter. Well at the beginning even tho they volunteered to tag along on traveler's journey to find their sibling, reader is rather obnoxious and a lazy-dork who only help when actually needed. But as the journey continues, they began to act like traveler's bodyguard after witnessing (archon quest spoiler!) traveler almost getting killed by the Shogun? And maybe random shenanigans happen between them (ft.Paimon). I don't mind if you do either Aether or Lumine if you feel pressured 🙏

Hi! This kind are my favorites! Tysm for requesting! (๑>◡<๑)

I did this with Aether since he is my favorite is who I chose, and I feel more comfortable writing with guys than with girls.

I know they have some different personalities but I can help but see Lumine as the all mighty abyss princess.

Hope you enjoy!

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Aether & Half-elf! Reader

GN! Reader

Inazuma Archon Quest Spoilers!

Request are open; sorry for any mistakes!

Genshin Impact Masterlist

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Aether always thought that immortality brought with it wisdom, beings who live for much longer than an ordinary human tend to gain an understanding of life and changes in the world after years of appreciating the passing of the ages.

But when he met you he couldn't help but feel that all his beliefs were based on fiction and old rumors from other worlds. You were anything but wise, not even his first choice to be the voice of reason.

Even Paimon takes her role as his guide seriously.

But what was so wrong about you that get him on his nerves all the time? And most important, why does is he still dealing with you?

To be fair, maybe he was waiting a little too much from you. After all, he always forget that you still have half of a human’s nature.

“Mmh? What are you doing?” You asked Aether the first time he removed your hair from your ears to see if they were pointy. They were, and Paimon yelled kind of a objection when she realize she had to pay for losing their bet.

Not a human, not a elf, but a hybrid between them.

The first encounter was really something he would never forget. Rumors about treasures and requests from the guild made them follow some clues to find a cave that was marked as lost, impossible to enter and explore.

But “impossible” is a word that doesn’t exist their vocabulary. Yet is common that regretting comes along when you’re that bold and risky.

At the very end of that strange cave there wasn’t a treasure waiting, not even a new clue to keep going with the mystery. Instead, was a humanoid silhouette, they seemed to be meditating, not showing a single interest in their voices neither getting nervous because of Aether and Paimon taking some steps forward to have a better look.

But they were breathing, and both could see the pupils moving slightly under their eyelids. Eyebrows twitching now and then, like they were having a nightmare, one of which they couldn’t wake up.

Paimon encouraged him to get even closer to shake that person's shoulder, while she was hiding behind some rocks, obviously.

Aether summoned his sword and then he approached slowly until touching them with his fingertips, waiting for some kind of jumpscare.

The stranger raised their arm, carefully but also in a robotic way. Their fingers were tense, as much that it was painful just looking at them. Like a quiet call, like a order that couldn’t be heard, from the pile of rocks where Paimon was hiding something emerge, breaking through the stone and letting a rusty polearm to be seen.

Their fingers closed around the weapon, bringing them back to reality.

“Master and weapon, reunited again, rise so the world can meet their end!”

Or at least that's what he would have preferred to find. A servant guarding a lost relic, a soulless body moving by a curse, perhaps even a fate that death could not prevent.

But instead it was something really underwhelming, something that broke the mystical and strange atmosphere. That person opened their eyes, annoyed by the light of the torches and disoriented by the situation.

With their body in pain and numb at the same time, how long have they slept in that position?

The first thing they did after waking up was sneezing.

‘So much dust…’

Never accepting missions for exploring legendary caves ever again. Nope. Negative. He refuse to.

What if they find another (Y/N)? Thanks, but no. One is more than enough.

“So what you mean is that your parents' families exiled you and locked you up in the cave for being an ‘abomination’ to both species?” Paimon confirmed once the three of you were back in the surface again. Her hands moving side to side to explain -in a very expressive way- everything you told them.

“It seems that we found the remains of an ancient race that used to exist in Teyvat.” Aether said, still surprised by the way you roamed to feel the wood of the trees and the grass under your bare feet. Kind of heartbreaking.

“Like the boar we found with Xiangling!”

He wasn’t sure if it was okay to compare both encounters but he could see her point.

“… ‘Wait for us’, they told me, ‘think about your existence and find the answer to why your conception is not the atrocity that everyone says you are. May their words not reach you, because we have long ears to hear the words of the gods and not the ones of those who defile earth’… ” You pronounced after decades of not needing to use the language you were taught, with one hand on your chin and eyes closed to concentrate. All you had left was the few memories you preserved inside your mind and heart.

“With ‘they’ you mean your parents?”

You nodded.

“And what happened next?… ” Asked back the tiny companion of the blond guy that rescued you.

“I got bored and I fell asleep.” You admitted, carefree about it, shrugging your shoulders and sighing.

A total waste of your youth.

“Eh!? Then you didn’t thought about those things? That sounded important!” Paimon seemed disappointed for your answer, while Aether held his forehead, without having a clue of how he was supposed to react.

That was the day you joined their party! New team member, (Y/N) strikes in!

Or something like that,,

“H-Hey! We could use a hand over here!… woah!” The little white girl scold you but from your high sit on the top of a big rock only a exaggerated yawning can be heard. Paimon crossed her arms to almost immediately duck down to dodge a fire bullet from the Fatui. Aether didn’t say anything, he was concentrated fighting.

“Oh, yeah… You’re doing great. Go, Aether, go…”

“Was that supposed to be a cheering?!”

“Hey, calm down” You said “He doesn’t need my help. Just take a look, he’s an adventurer. If I meddle it will be really boring for him.”

“Hmp! Now Paimon believes that you were lying when you said that you were a well refined fighter!” She was floating around you, ignoring the battle of his blond friend. Like a pesky bee, the only thing you did was avoiding her furious gaze. “Don’t ignore Paimon! How can you not hear with those ears!? That’s it! Paimon will give you a ugly nickname!”

“What about ‘extinct deaf elf-der’?”

“Yeah, that’s a good one!” She agreed immediately, then she shook her head, pointing at you like a guilty criminal. “Wait, Paimon doesn’t need your suggestions!”

When the last Fatui was defeated Aether turned back to face both of you, sighing because of the new arguing between you two. His sword disappeared and some steps were took to get closer.

Your eyes met each other, a slight smile in your face after looking him safe and sound. So confident but so unaware of the remain danger hiding. Your expression became a surprised one, then your gaze sharped like a killer sight.

You left Paimon on top of the rock when you jumped down, summoning your own weapon you ran straight to where Aether was. The traveler panicked just a fraction of second before loosing sight of you.

Next thing they know was that a you were behind him, facing at the nothing with a defensive pose, just a second of silence before a impact could be heard. Some dirt and dust was lift as the pair of Fatui Pyro Agents became visible again. They stayed there, defeated in one hit.

“Like I said. It would be pretty boring if I meddle...” Aether and Paimon were shocked, none of them felt their presence, not even the heat of the pyro delusion. Your weapon disappeared in the air, and your hands rested on your waist. “Dear Seven, that was intense.” Looking at your friends you sighed, with the laziness on your body language. “It was my turn to cook dinner, right? What a pain having to eat again… ”

Acting that relaxed after that really made them went Ô_Ô and Ö

A silent speech, where devotion and gratitude are the best topics of conversation. The message that is heard even if there’s no words in between. Just a exchange of gazes. Little signs of affection that are shown when it’s necessary.

Your family was gone. No clues about their whereabouts could’ve found in that cave of where you came. Not even the skeletons of a couple holding their hands and petrified in a sobbing position. Not even ashes.

When you have been thinking about the most unimportant things in the universe for so long you can deal with the lost faster than anyone else. Getting the idea of no remain evidence of your parents and feeling that it wasn’t that heartbreaking.

Maybe because you gained a new family almost immediately.

Still you could empathize with Aether, he still had his precious memories with his sister, still remember her face and her voice. And most important was that he knew that she was still roaming Teyvat, waiting for him.

Even if they leave behind Paimon and you at the end of the trip.

Or even if they just leave you behind.

‘I’m okay with that.’

You thought, stroking Paimon’s hair when her head found a comfortable place to rest in your lap. You thought, moving your shoulder so Aether wouldn’t have neck pain. Both sleeping peacefully and you staying awake night by night.

You’ve slept enough, for so long besides.

Somehow the flames of the campfire are warmer now that you have someone to look how the fire dance in the night.

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“I see, so you were serious when you told me that your companion was a mystical extinct creature, weren’t you?” Albedo’s hand went up to hold his chin, analyzing you from distance.

“They are half of it, actually.” Aether answered back, notice how Sucrose was asking you permission to check your features. The sparkle in her eyes made you accept her petition after feeling with the back against the wall.

“Your ears are like mine! Look, look!” Klee pulled your shirt, then she pointed at the side of her head.

“… Still the shape of both are quite different, the length too.”

Years of isolation really are hitting hard right now. You felt overwhelmed and somehow shy when Sucrose hold your face to have a better look.

You follow the traveler to everywhere, no matter the place, you were there. Like a shadow, sometimes just a spectator, other times like an actual active team member.

“Who would’ve tell that our Honorary Knight also has his own knight watching his back.” Kaeya’s voice has that joke but charming tone, as always.

Day after day, it’s the same, everyone talking you through Aether. Like some kind of translator.

“More like a human shield.” Your hand landed on top of Aether’s head, not agreeing with his explanation.

Bonk.

“I guess everything’s better than being Emergency Food.”

“Hey!”

“Haha! You three are quite a team, aren’t you?”

Of course you were. Mondstadt, Liyue, you name it. You could assure that every place in this two nations have at least one story about the team.

You knew that the most brave and magnificent outlander in Teyvat didn’t need a guardian, he can defend himself (somehow even if he’s still using that dull blade).

Bodyguarding also sounds like such a hassle…

You only provide a last resource help when was needed, sometimes also helping with some puzzles and mysteries.

The long eared people was known to be wise and smart people that searched for the full comprehension of the world. Also such a nerds and fans of knowledge. So, even if you considered yourself dumb, in your blood was the instinct of looking for the truth, and sometimes that impulse could be really annoying.

You were always near enough to reach him. Pulling his scarf from behind to move him away from danger. Countering after he gets hit.

Always in a place where you could reach him.

You just needed to extend your arm and you would catch Aether. It was always like this. Always with you jumping in the middle of the crossfire to shield them if it was necessary.

It’s always like this.

Until the day you three set a foot in Inazuma’s land. And a bad feeling of a imminent catastrophe made your shiver.

A new nation, a new problem to solve. But a war? Boldness and stupidity sometimes looks like the same thing, but no matter how many times you repeat this to Aether, he would still ran into problems.

And you would follow him, until your debt is paid, until his travel is done.

It used to be like this.

But then you failed him after being unable to move because of the fear that paralyzed your body. The day Aether faced Shogun Raiden in the ceremony. The day you heard the broken voice of a god inside the Shogun you also fell apart. It was painful, cruel, a void of anger and sadness.

Jumping into danger, without you behind.

You tried to ran between the goddess and your savior, you tried to get closer to at least be useful one last time as the shield you promised to be.

You tried.

But, for the first time, your hand didn’t reach him.

The void of despair and darkness that could be heard inside the Shogun devoured him.

The tears of panic and fear in Paimon’s eyes. The way the Shogun lifted her sword to end his life. The way you were paralyzed because of her presence, forced to be part of the crowd and presence his execution.

That day your facade of laziness faded away, the real feeling of being a knight burnt along your proud. It was so annoying, it was so unnecessary, but still you couldn’t ignore it.

“Are you… are you sure that you’re okay? We don’t have to find the Sangonomiya resistance today. If you need to rest then-” Your hands were shaking when you placed them in Aether’s shoulders, holding yourself for tearing up.

“We have to keep going. I’ll be fine.”

“Besides, if we stay near Inazuma this night they could find us! Paimon won’t be able to sleep like that!” Your mouth opened to counter their arguments, but not a single word dared to go against Aether’s plans.

They could see it in your face. The worry, the remains of shock and fear, the guilty.

“Don’t try to look strong then. If you get tired, tell us. I can carry you in my back.” Even if you were offering help your voice was serious, so cold but so hurt at the same time that nor Aether or Paimon knew what to said to bring the old you back.

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“… Aren’t you coming?” You could hear how the door was slid to let him saw you. The lighted spots on Aether’s clothes were purple, just as the lighting that almost end him. Your lips made a concerned and stressed grimace.

The young traveler took a seat next to you, outside the structure, sitting on the wooden steps and looking at the starry sky. The wind was cold but still the soldiers of the resistance were talking normally and the slight feeling of discommodity because of the excessive presence of other people was climbing up your back.

“(Y/N), there’s no need of guard us every night. You also need to sleep.”

“I'm not tired, I think I've gotten enough sleep, at least not to need it until the next century.”

Aether’s expressions went into a sarcastic one, asking if you were serious with just his gaze.

“That’s not how it works.” He said, trying to change the mood. “And if it does, then why are you always snoozing during the day in every chance you get?”

You had the answer to that, but you weren’t sure about telling him.

“Because everything supposed to be boring. Nothing really changed a lot and… looking at the familiar places was depressing.” So easy, so simple, but still enjoying the company, still enjoying the sound of theirs laughs and their own shenanigans. “… Lately, I’ve been thinking that I should not had left the cave. Don’t get me wrong, I do appreciate that you two helped me to be back at the surface, and I really want to help you on your journey, but if you still run into the chaos by own decision I think I could not follow you any longer before being a burden in your adventures.”

Overprotection, an unbreakable shield, frequently avoiding fights, always being pulled back to not be part of the battle. Enemies of the braveness of the traveler.

Worry, panic, an overreaction due to fear of loosing everything again.

‘let me do it’, ‘I got it’, ‘wait here’, ‘don’t get close’.

These day could be described like that.

“So, before I do something worse as an excuse of defend you, please let me find a cave to await. You do what’s is needed and… call me back, or leave me there, anything you think it’s better… ”

You could be pronouncing the words from the very bottom of your heart, but still your face was the same seriousness as the accident almost happened.

And even with that you felt his gloved hand removing the hair that was covering your right ear, revealing how it slightly leaned down, showing sadness unwittingly.

“Hey, cut it out… I’m serious about this… ”

“It doesn’t matter if you think that it’s the best option, you’re still sad about leaving.”

“… That’s cheating.” Removing his hand away from your hair you tried to act indifferent.

“You know the reason why we invited you to came along?”

‘You felt sorry for me.’

“I can’t totally tell the exact reason, but it wasn’t for you to pay us some kind of debt because of saving you.” He crossed his arms, looking at the stars, wondering if his sisters was doing the same. “We don’t need a guardian, we need our friend back. And I know you care about Paimon and me, but still you must enjoy the journey. It’s not fair that you are always aware of every potential danger while we mess around lately.”

An eternal silence, your response is late to appear but somehow Aether can tell that you already have something on your mind.

“Then apologize.”

“… Why?”

“For believing that playing as the hero and jumping to face the Shogun was something you had to do.”

“… but-”

Neither Aether nor you slept that night, the blonde had to listen for hours to all the things that you ever wanted to complain about since you arrived in Inazuma.

You made your position on joining the army of the rebellion very clear, you had no intention of fighting to seek "justice" or "peace". Because after all, that fight did not correspond to you, but if he asked you to, you would protect some soldiers or help to guard the barracks, if he asked you to, you wouldn’t complain about it (at least not that much).

Both had enough of each other’s attitude, but it was okay. Because that was what all of you chose in first place.

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outivv · 4 years ago

Text

Synopsis: y/n is a master of the sword, but believes Diluc/kaeya/childe/zhongli is using them as a tool.

Warnings: spoilers for liyue story quest, and swearing in kaeyas part, also mentions of injuries in kaeyas part

Game/ fandom: genshin impact

Characters: Diluc, zhongli, kaeya, and childe

Tag: thank you @drippyfrog for requesting!

Pronouns for reader: gender neutral/ not mentioned

Note: I left it blank when it mentions what kind of vision you have in zhongli’s part so you get to choose :D

A/n: hello, and thank you for requesting! I tried my best to make this slightly angsty, but a bit more comforting at the end, it was a tough request but I had a lot of fun writing it! I hope you enjoy and have a good day/afternoon/ night! <3

— zhongli —

Zhongli has been with you for a while, and has never shown any signs at being powerful in a fighting sense. Unbeknownst to you though, that was completely untrue. Zhongli was a god, why would he need the protection of a human? You still couldn’t shake the inkling feeling that he was using you.

This was brought up when you were attacked by hilichurls. Zhongli was just standing by as you fought them off using your ___ vision and sword. Though he only did that because he didn’t get a chance to step in, for you dealt with them so quickly that they were gone in a flash.

You felt your anger rising to the surface as you turned around to see zhongli standing there, he thanked you and commented on your excellent swordsmanship.

“Zhongli. Can I ask you a serious question?” You said, your eyes shooting daggers at the man. “Are you using me?” Your words shocked the former archon. He laughed a little and said “y/n? Whatever do you mean?”

“You stood by and did nothing as I protected you. And This wasn’t the first time you’ve done this.” You said growing more frustrated. Ah. This is what you were mad about. Zhongli wasn’t sure how to react. He hasn’t told you about how he’s morax yet... and he didn’t plan on doing that for a while. But maybe it was time to come clean. He placed a hand on your lower back guiding you away from liyue to tell you everything.

— childe —

It was no secret that childe was strong when it came to fighting. He maybe wasn’t skilled with a sword, but he knew how to fight especially well. Since being with childe you’ve been tasked with doing jobs for the fatui, and you could help but feel like he was using you.

You sat on top of a hill in liyue, your final night there before being sent off to another mission with the harbinger. You couldn’t rid of the creeping feeling that childe was using you. Leaned away from him and said, “Childe, are you using me?” Childe was shocked by your bluntness, and laughed for a second. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“Aha... where is this coming from?” You asked the worry and shock clear on his face. “I just... ever since we started dating I’ve been doing jobs for the fatui. I wasn’t associated with them before so why now. Why do they want me now that I’m with you.” You said looking off upon liyue.

Childe placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “I would never use you. You’re important to me, and I wouldn’t manipulate you like that. Alright?” Sometimes childe knew exactly what to say to desire you. He knows the fatui aren’t great, but he stays working for them. He wishes you didn’t have to as well.

— kaeya —

Kaeya never really thought about having some sort of protection. He’s jumped into dangerous situations without a second thought many times before, protection was always an afterthought.

You typically had to help him in those situations, helping him barely get out with his life. Helping his troops get out alive as well. You felt like he was using you to he reckless, and go off and do whatever he wanted.

After one particular incident with a ruin grader, you finally snapped. “What the hell was that?! You could’ve gotten everyone killed!” You said storming over to him after helping a member of the troop you had with you. “Yes but we didn’t! And it was all thanks to your excellent skills love!” He said walking over to you, a smile that was a cause of pure adrenaline running through his veins was plastered on his face.

When he got close to you, you shoved him away saying, “you dipshit we barely made it out alive! That was reckless and idiotic, and you know it.” Now he was shocked. He immediately turned worried and a bit concerned, but tried to play it off saying, “I know I know, but you did marvelous helping us out back there.”

Now you were pissed. “Kaeya are you using me. Are you using me so I’ll save your ass every time you want to go and do something reckless?” You said the fire, and harshness in your voice was clear. The whole troop around you went silent. Wanting the situation unfold. Many of them were glaring at kaeya, while others were looking at him apologetically.

Kaeya sighed and said, “no, I’m not using you, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would be that bad.” He words seemed to mean nothing though as you said, “sorry? Sorry?! Damn right you are! Archons...” you sighed “we need to get the injured back to mondstadt. We should make haste back before their wounds become worse.” His apology seemed fake, his words seemed to hold no meaning as you helped some of the injured up, and back to mondstadt. Was he using you? It was a thought that plagued his mind the whole way back.

— Diluc —

(I kinda left this one on a weird not so I apologize about that 🥲)

It was known that all over mondstadt that Diluc was an excellent fighter. He was the youngest ever cavalry captain in the knights of favonius, so sure my he had to have some sort of skill. Though he seemed to be issuing you for his darknight hero work.

Another night of fighting abyss mages made you realize what he might’ve been doing, so you spoke up saying, “Diluc... are you using me to protect mondstadt...” you were still panting from the previous fight. Your words caught Diluc off guard, as he turned around to look you in the eyes. “What? Whatever would make you think that...?” He said confused.

“You make me help you with darknight hero work almost every night. It just feels like you’re using me...” you said sadly. How long have you been feeling this way? He wasn’t going to force you to help him if you didn’t want to... he appreciates everything you do for him but he’s not going to force you to do anything.

“I... I apologize if that’s how I come off. I do appreciate everything that you do, and I would hope that you’d continue to help me but you don’t have to I suppose.” He said feeling ashamed. He didn’t know he made you feel like this, so he was genuinely apologetic. “It’s alright Diluc... I appreciate the apology.” You said and slightly smiled. Your smile desired him, and made him feel a bit better.

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scandalsavagefanfic · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! I am a huge fan of ur writing. I've loved everything I've read of yours. I've read alot of what you've posted, except for a couple of the tags that are squicky for me (so I'm very thankful you tag very thoroughly). No judgement for the squick, it's just not for me. & when I'm having a bad day, I usually just go thru ur ao3 and find something to reread. I think about Therapy's Bruce & Jason every damn day. While I obvs appreciate ur darker more "problematic" content (I really vibe with some of the themes you write about bc of my own trauma, & so it's very cathartic to read about in a fictional setting), I am truly a sucker for ur more happy content. The Happily Ever After verse also lives in my head rent free. Idk more wholesome stuff just seems more special when you write it. Anyways. I would die for you. But the point of this ask is cause I'm curious as to why you don't like Urban Legends? I'm sorry if you already talked about it here or on twitter and I missed it. I was just wondering because I really enjoy your take on things and would love to hear why you dislike it. I've been enjoying it so far personally, but I am always open to DC comics criticism.

Aw thank you so much! I'm so flattered by everything you just said. You're so sweet ❤❤❤❤❤

I haven't talked about Urban Legends here or twitter (I haven't been very active in either place lately. Just a lot going on and no energy 😔) but I'm happy to do it here.

Before I start though, I just want to add a standard disclaimer and make it clear that if you like it, there's nothing wrong with that and you don't have to let me ruin it for you lol. Like what you like.

That said, since you asked...

I said this when I was talking about it on discord, that there is a difference between hope and expectation. I always hope that a new story centered on Jason (or anyone really, but things have been especially egregious for Jay for 15 years) will be good or at least treat the character with a minimal level of respect (to be honest, the bar is super fucking low). But my expectations always temper my hope, to keep it from getting unrealistic. Because my expectations are based on experience.

The long history of Jason Todd, since even before his resurrection, has been one of retroactively trying to make him "a bad seed" in order to absolve Bruce of any responsibility in his death.

I don't even expect DC or their writers to start honoring the fact that Jason was not an angry, reckless Robin (and less of the later than Dick or Tim and definitely Damian). There plenty of ways that retcon can be folded into his history and be compelling and sympathetic. And if they're going to stick with that retcon, I'm only asking that they do it in one of those compelling and sympathetic ways because Jason was 15 when he died, heroically, in one of the most selfless acts in comics, to save a woman who literally handed him over to be brutally murdered. He was 12 when Bruce plucked him off the streets, he'd been homeless and fending for himself for at least two years. I personally think that Jason's story hits harder for him and Bruce if their original, canon relationship, of Jason as starry-eyed and eager to learn and absolutely devoted to Bruce and Bruce to Jason, is preserved. But Jason's origins does leave room for a meaningful interpretation of him as angry and frustrated at the lack of meaningful results of Bruce's methods.

And that's really where my irritation at stories like Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer and Batman The Adventure Continues has it's roots.

Every time one of these stories comes out, I think (or hope, rather) that this will be the one that remembers and respects the origins of the Jason and the Red Hood, that takes into account the changed sensibilities of comics readers in the 30 years since Jason's death and the subtle, 20 year, retroactive campaign to make him the "bad Robin". The "born bad" trope is played out and literally no one likes the message it implies. That some kids are just bad eggs and there's nothing parents or the adults around them can do. Especially when it's played as the kid's fault. If Jason's time as Robin is going to be characterized by anger, then it should be rooted in anger at the social injustices he witnessed as he grew up in an impoverished, crime-ridden, area and the horrors he faced raising himself when every day was a battle for survival. There are topical, meaningful, stories to tell with that backdrop.

But those are never the stories we get.

⚠⚠ Spoilers for Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer ⚠⚠

I'm particularly disappointed in Urban Legends because for the first issue, it looked like that was the kind of story we were going to get. I was put off by the first flashback of Jason being mesmerized by Bruce's guns, and I got that feeling in my gut that it was a bad sign. Jason depicted as impatient and overconfident and the scene with the guns is heavy-handed foreshadowing that got my spidey-sense tingling. I had a inkling then (in the first three pages) of how this story was going to play out, but it was early and I could still see many narrative paths that could lead to a satisfying story. My concerns were soothed somewhat and the little flame of my hope fanned, with the flashback of Alfred scolding Bruce, with Barbara's concern for Jason. A bit of worry returned with the way Jason ruthlessly pursued an addict who didn't appear to be a dealer and with the ending of the issue. The stuff with the addict sat wrong with me but the ending was tempered some by how despicable Tyler's dad was written. The scene was clearly set so that the reader could sympathize with Jason's decision and the scene with the addict could be brushed aside as a side-effect of comics over-the-top need for constant action, so I still held hope.

Issue 2 made me uncomfortable and it's where my hope starts to take a backseat to my expectations. I can dismiss Jason's self-deprecating internal monologue as unreliable narration, except that the flashback reinforces his thought process to explicitly show that it's not unreliable narration, and should be taken at face value. Jason faces physical abuse at the hands of his mother's drug dealer and when the flashback continues later, Jason kills the drug dealer. To be clear, this is a pre-Bruce Jason. His mom is still alive. He's like... 10. He kills this guy for shoving his head into a wall and implying Jason's mother paid for her drugs with sex. This is a scene that serves a single purpose. To show that Jason has always been prone to violence.

In the spirit of full disclosure, there is the small chance the drug dealer might not be dead. But the story obviously wants the reader to think he is, and it hasn't done anything to change that yet.

Starlin already did this story with The Diplomat’s Son in 1988 and he did it infinitely better. AND that’s still technically canon. So now I’m supposed to believe that Jason lost his cool bad enough to kill two douche bags before his sweet 16? Like it’s totally normal for abused kids raised in poverty, who’ve led hard and heartbreaking lives to just... haul off and kill people? That’s bullshit, and when taken with the Jason in the third issue, who is little more than an idiot thug, this story is really doubling down on some fucked up stereotypes.

Which brings us to the most recent issue. I went into this installment with very low expectations. I thought this story was going to be about Jason, through this experience with Tyler, a young boy with a similar background to Jason's, coming to the realization that Bruce's way is the best way and that Bruce did his best by Jason.

That would be annoying (in no small part because it takes increasingly absurd levels of plot armor to keep Bruce's no kill rule relevant, let alone irrefutably right). But I can probably live with that, if only because maybe if Jason officially falls back into line with the Bats crusade, maybe I'll get stories that treat him with respect, stories that don't relegate him to comic relief, dumb brute, or a background body with no lines in a story about the Joker burning Gotham (like Jason would just fucking stand there quietly for that).

And that may still be where the story is going, Jason realizing Bruce is right.

But holy shit do I not have the right words to describe how fucking insulting and gross issue three is.

From start to finish--including the flashback--Jason is written as cruel and fucking stupid. Like straight up dumb.

The entire issue is Bruce explaining the fucking basics to Jason like it's his first day. And Jason flies off the fucking handle and terrorizes a doctor he knows isn't a part of making the Cheerdrops, beats the shit out of some random addicts, and finally, when he can't accomplish anything on his own because he's a dumb brute he calls Barbara for help and rushes in with no information where he's promptly incapacitated and must now wait to be rescued by Batman.

This panel is the least of the issues sins but I can’t screenshot the entire story but it’s representative of the tone for the whole issue (and retroactively tainted the prior two issues).

This is beyond insulting. The only conclusions Jason comes to in this issue are the ones Bruce leads him to by talking to him like he can’t make the simplest connections. And like... in this story Jason can’t make the simplest connections.

This (and the Jason throughout the entirety of this issue) is a far cry from the Jason we fell in love with in Under the Red Hood, who was competent and strategic and intelligent enough to seize control of Gotham’s underworld from Black Mask (who’s no fucking slouch, he’s the first and only person to unify organized crime in Gotham) AND elude and manipulate Bruce until the time and place of his choosing.

This is a far cry from even the Red Hood and the Outlaws Jason who is competent enough to fight the League of Shadows and Ra’s al Ghul (among very dangerous and skilled others) and smart enough to create antidotes for mind control nanotech viruses.

As he should be, by the way. Jason Todd is one of the best, most comprehensively trained fighters in DC’s stable of non powered vigilantes. He’s not irrational or hot headed. He’s pragmatic, tactically minded, and patient. He’s a detective. Right now. Has been since he was 12. Bruce doesn’t have to make him one because he already is.

Jason is not a stupid thug who uses his fists because his brain doesn’t work. And I can’t tell you how so very exhausted I am by this narrative.

This is actually the most egregious example of Jason’s skills and intelligence being not just undermined but dismissed entirely. Even Morrison’s Jason had some degree of competency.

The one, single redeeming factor of this story is the art. It’s beautiful. And Marcus To is a godsend he seems to be one of only a couple of artists who remember that Jason was a child when he was Robin and I’m literally only buying this book because of him.

Anyway, I’m sorry. I didn’t want that to come out so... um... passionately lol. I’m just very very tired. My intention with this isn’t to ruin it for you, if you like it, that’s fine.

But this issue shot this story to the top of my "Vehemently Despise” list. 1) Batman: Urban Legends (Cheer), 2) Battle for the Cowl/Morrison’s Batman and Robin, 3) Batman The Adventure Continues.

I hope the next issues somehow salvage this dumpster fire. But I’m not expecting it.

(Damnit. That sounded harsh again. To reiterate, I’m not trying to judge anyone who enjoys it, I just personally hate it and you asked me why lol 😅)

#Batman #red hood #batman: urban legends #nice art #shit story #or at least shit characterization #jason todd deserves better #this response got long and I didn't edit it #please forgive any errors #and/or unclear spots #spoilers

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greenygreenland · 4 years ago

Text

Dream A Little Dream Of Me: Norman x Reader

-MANGA SPOILERS! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

-NOTE: YOU’RE BOTH AGED UP SO DON’T START TELLING ME FBI’S GONNA COME TO MY DOOR 😂😂

-THE TIMELINE IS A BIT MESSED UP SO JUST IGNORE IT COMPLETELY AND DON'T ASK ME LOL

-also, is it just me or do thick eyebrows look really cute??? Norman has pretty thick brows compared everyone else and I think they're cute

WARNINGS: Kissing lol

Summary: You finally see Norman again.

Life had to be the scariest thing you'd ever faced. It threw the bad, the good, the everything your way until you could barely stand. Until you were left broken and mangled and shattered. Life was scary. It was cruel. Yet somehow, today was different.

You thought it was a dream. After all, how could it be reality when the boy in front of you died a year and some months ago? He had been shipped out, left for dead because it was a part of his stupid escape plan.

So how was it he stood before you? Breathing? Smiling? Living?

The office door closed behind you with a soft click. It bathed the room in silence, as if for a moment, the world decided to give you a second to breathe. A second to take in the wonderous sight before you.

The boy's name stuck in your throat. He had changed, not only in height, but stature and appearance. Norman was older, and he grew up to be more handsome than any runway model could ever be.

"(Y/n)," he gently said. "I'm glad you're well."

That was all it took. One sentence and you tackled him in the tightest hug your trembling arms could muster. "Norman...!" To have his arms around you, to hear the beating of his heart--it was a relief. A miracle sent by the gods. "You’re so stupid!"

No, he was more than stupid. He had to be the dumbest boy alive to think that it was okay to sacrifice himself for the sake of your family. You all were supposed to escape together just like Emma said. No one was supposed to be left behind, yet Norman--bless his heart--acted on his own.

You hugged him as if he would disappear if you let go. "We were all supposed to leave together. But you--I thought you--shipped out--and then--!" You chocked on your words. What more could you say anyway?

You buried your face in the crook of his neck. The muffled sob that ripped through your throat was more than Norman could handle. His knees went weak and you both slowly sunk to the floor in a heap.

"I'm here." he gently said. "I'm not going anywhere (Y/n)."

Despite the steadiness in Norman's voice, his shoulders hitched, and he sniffled. "I'm here." he repeated. "I-I'm here." It sounded like he were reassuring himself that he wouldn't leave you so soon, as if he were scared too. Not for the way you sobbed and sobbed, but for the ache in his heart that seemed to beat in sync with yours.

Slowly, your sobs turned to quiet sniffles, which then silenced into nothing but tiny hiccups. You basked in Norman's warm embrace. He didn't hold you too tightly, as if he were afraid it would shatter you to pieces. Instead, he pulled you close to his side and leaned on his desk behind.

You rested your head on his chest, taking the time to memorise his scent. Parchment, the woods, and old books. You liked that, it was comforting to know he still smelled the same. On the other hand, his voice wasn’t as smooth or rounded as it once was. It was icy. No one seemed to notice that tiny sharpness that hit the end of each note he spoke. You wondered what could've made his kind heart harden.

Sure, Norman was still the same Norman you remembered, but something about the way he acted seemed off. He was clingy, much more than he ever was. Maybe he just missed you? No, that couldn't be right. Norman acted as if he were running out of time. He held you close and gently, as if these would be the last moments you'd see each other again. As if there wouldn't be a tomorrow.

You slowly pulled away to get a good look at Norman's face. His chin was slightly pointier, his cheeks less chubby and full. His lips twitched upwards into a comforting smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes because he looked so overwhelmingly tired. Your poor boy probably worked day and night to keep the hideout on its feet. It must be hard on him, you thought. Especially since he was revered as a god.

Norman's brows raised. "What's wrong?"

You took his thin hands in your own and gave them a good squeeze. "It's nothing. What about you?"

Ah yes, small talk. The perfect way to avoid any question thrown your way. Norman knew you well, sometimes even more than himself. When you asked simple questions such as these, that meant your mind laid elsewhere in a land he could never reach. Norman took that as a hint to drop the subject.

For now.

He wondered what invisible weight laid on your shoulders. Was it something as heavy as his? Perhaps your weight was worse and it ate away at you. Norman wished he could take that weight away and relieve you of that pain. He'd carry it all if he could, and it didn't matter to him if he'd die trying. This was you he was thinking about. He'd do anything for you.

"I've been okay," Norman vaguely responded. "But I have been busy, so I find it difficult to sleep sometimes.”

Norman liked to be honest, but you knew it was because that helped him figure out what was wrong with you. It was a game of tag. In this case being 'it' meant figuring out each others' worries through a back-and-forth match.

"You haven't been sleeping enough?" Your voice came out rather quiet as you traced invisible circles over the back of his hands. "Is that because you have so much work? Or do you refuse to get help?" Norman sat in a still silence and you sighed.

Of course.

This was your Norman after all. He always shouldered a burden too big for his shoulders to carry. It was always something so heavy, so terribly hard to balance by himself. If that burden grew any bigger, it would collapse, and that would be his downfall. But you wouldn't let that happen to your Norman. No, no, no. You'd take that burden from him, steal it if you had to, and be his crutch.

"What have you been doing here?" you quickly added. "As 'William Minerva', I mean?"

Norman looked unbearably uncomfortable. That little frown tugging at the edge of his lips was a tell-tale sign. “I’ve been getting a lot done." he carefully said. "In fact, I’ve figured out a way to end this. Once and for all.”

Norman began by explaining the first phase of his plan. The first phase had long been in motion. It started with the indiscriminate burning of cattle facilities, then the gathering of information, and continued on to pave the way for all the other phases you didn’t care to hear about.

The first few steps weren't too bad, but the final act in Norman's plan made your skin crawl. You half-wished you hadn’t asked him anything to begin with. Maybe it would have spared your appetite. Your grip on his thin hands loosened and loosened until your hands rested on your lap.

Norman wasn't so little anymore. He had grown up just a bit, but not in the way you wished to see. How could he think of something so cold-hearted and cruel? The extermination of all demons in Neverland was an act of genocide. If you re-called correctly, it was also considered a war crime.

Norman was smarter than that. He understood the consequence he'd have to face if that were the path he walked right? He understood that there were still other options right? Maybe you heard him wrong.

No.

You had to have heard him wrong. Norman wasn't ruthless like that. He was a ball of sunshine that made you smile whenever you were together.

"I see..." You tightly smiled. "So that's your plan on freeing everyone?" Norman nodded with a seriousness that took you back to the time he left everything to you and Ray and Emma.

You weren't mistaken then. Norman truly meant everything he said.

"Yes, that is my plan. It's been taking me a little longer than expected to set it in motion. I've decided to officially start tomorrow."

Tomorrow?

Your breath hitched. "Don't you think that's a bit hasty? What if...what if something goes wrong?" Norman smiled. It was hollow and wry and everything that he wasn't. "Don't worry. Fortunately, I've always been pretty good at getting what I want." You didn't return the smile, and you didn't want to say why.

Norman was quick to catch on. But of course he would catch on so quickly, this was Norman. Your Norman.

"Do you have a problem with my plan?" he inquired. You shook your head. "No, it's...it's not that." Yes, it was that. Your plan is dangerous even if it is good, you thought. Innocent lives wouldn't be spared, and that would spell an unfair fate for the demons who ate to survive.

You wanted to tell Norman why his plan was wrong, and why he didn't have to be so unforgiving about it. But then what? Why would he listen when you didn't have any better ideas? He seemed to have his mind set anyway, so no half-baked ideas would make a difference. And besides, he was the smartest person you knew. Maybe that was the only way out of the terrible fate all you cattle children faced.

"If you're okay with my plan," Norman said, "then what's bothering you (Y/n)?"

"It's still a lot for me to take in," you admitted with a plastic smile. "I guess I'm just shocked that you're, well, here." Norman smiled, this time with a genuine warmth. "I understand." He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. "I'll see you at dinner."

Your cheeks burned. How bold of him. "Y-yeah, I'll see you at dinner." Norman let out a cute little chuckle that made your heart beat a little louder than it was supposed to. You hauled yourself off the floor and made your way to the door. Norman followed.

You flashed him a nervous smile, one that mixed in with your muddled worry and anxiousness. You glanced at his bright eyes. For a moment, they seemed to dim like the setting sun. It reminded you of Mama. When no one looked at her, she didn’t smile. She always looked so sad when she sat by herself, and maybe that was because she was.

"(Y/n)?"

Your fingers brushed against the doorknob. “Hm?”

"I want nothing more than to protect you and our family. I know you don't fully agree with me," his expression darkened. "But this is the way--the only way we can save everyone without spilling a single drop of blood."

For a moment, you forgot who you were speaking to. This wasn't the same boy you begged to run away with before he got shipped out. This wasn't the same boy who gently tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and sweetly complimented you. This boy--did you truly still know him? Was he still the Norman you grew up with and fell head-over-heels for?

You blinked and that dark look washed itself off his face. He strode up to you and placed a hand on your cheek--just like the day he was supposed to be harvested. Norman’s eyes were soft, softer than any blanket, and his lips pursed into a gentle frown. With his thumb, he wiped a stray tear away.

Why were you crying?

"Norman..." You couldn’t find the right words. There were none that could explain the suffering you endured in silence. You worried, not only for Norman, but your family and all those other people in the world you didn’t know about. Norman’s plan--oh how stupid it was--had it changed him? Had it forced him to guard his heart to keep a still mind?

You wondered what he endured while you went on your crazy adventures. At least you had your family, and Yuugo, Lucas, and all your friends. But Norman? He didn’t have anyone but himself. He carried the whole world. Alone. Had he been scared? Worried? Angry that no one came for him? Your heart clenched at the thought.

"Smile,” Norman said. “It’s okay, I promise. I'm here." He gathered you in his arms and you didn’t have the heart to protest. “How?” you whispered. “How were you able to do all this on your own?” Norman helplessly shrugged. “You could say I have connections, either that or I’m just lucky.”

“What will you do after this is all over?”

Norman went still again, as if he couldn’t answer your question. You heaved in a shaky breath. If Norman wasn’t going to give you a straight answer, then you’d squeeze it out of him. “Did anything else happen to you? I’m sure there’s a catch, isn’t there?”

It was like someone flipped a switch. One moment, you were a mess of tears, sorrow, and anguish. Now, something menacing laid in your voice. It was almost threatening, as if you were indirectly telling Norman to dare avoid the question. “I don’t want you dying trying to be everything at once,” you said. “Here you’re revered as a god, and if I know you, then it’s plain that you set yourself up like that. Don’t tell me you plan to die on us again.”

He stiffened.

“I know you Norman, don’t forget that. And because I love you, I don’t want to see you destroy yourself. I admit, I don’t know why you act like you’re going to leave again, but I’ll do everything in my power to stop you.” You pulled away and took his hands in yours. A small smile of reassurance made its way up your lips, but Norman didn’t return it.

No, he couldn’t. And despite all he did, he couldn’t lie straight to your face. Not like this.

Dinner cheered you up. The smiles and laughter that your family shared with Norman made you feel just a little bit better. But how long would it last? And how long would those smiles stay present? All the questions swarming in your mind made you feel sick to your stomach. There was too much to think about, and too little time to answer them.

You forced down the last of your food with a sigh and brought the plate to its respectful place. Everyone was too busy chatting and catching up to notice, but that was fine. It was better that way.

You made your way to a secluded walkway. It was in one of the calmer areas of the hideout that overlooked the lower levels. It was quiet, save for the distant chatter of Hayato and his friends. He let out a bright laugh that echoed through the vacant walkways. What a shame it would be to hear that disappear.

“So this is where you went.”

“I told you she’d be here.”

You whipped around in alarm. “Ray, Emma!”

Ray sharply looked you up and down. He raised a brow and you squirmed under his gaze. He gently bumped shoulders with you. “What’s wrong with you?”

You absentmindedly shrugged. “Nothing.”

“That’s what someone who’s not okay would say.” Emma noted. She settled by your side on the railing and flashed a bright smile. “You were so quiet at dinner today.”

You shook your head. Que another absentminded shrug and plastic smile. “I guess I just wanted to make sure everyone was okay.”

Ray sighed. “Everyone but you?” He leaned against the railing next to you. “Did you and Norman talk at all?”

You froze. ‘Yes’, was what you wanted to say, but no sound came out. The image of Norman’s matured face, the way his his soft lips hit your own, and his stupidly tall build crossed your mind.

Emma let out a gasp and slapped a hand over her mouth. “Ah!” she cried. “You’re all red!” You covered your hands with your face, ignoring Ray’s curious stare.

“What did you two talk about in his office anyway? Or should I say, do?” The glint in Ray’s eyes had subtext you didn’t want to recite out loud. “Rayyyyy,” you grumbled, “shut up.” He sent you a teasing grin as Emma frowned in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

“You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“Yeah, it’s grown up stuff.”

You ignored the warmth spreading to your cheeks and elbowed Ray. “Don’t say it like ‘that’! Now you make it sound like something else!”

He daringly raised a brow. “Like what?” You ran a hand over your scorching face. It was a miracle you weren’t on fire. “No, no, I’m not answering you!”

You shared a good laugh and a comfortable silence began to settle, blanketing your shoulders in a lightness that you hadn’t felt in a while.

Emma softly smiled. “I’m glad we found you.” she admitted. “You looked really sad all by yourself out here.” Ray nodded with a small snort. “Yeah, talk about depressing. But seriously though, did something..?”

Of course these two would see through your façade. Of course they’d understand something was wrong. They were your family, and they didn’t deserve your silence. Your smile shattered. “I don’t know if Norman told you about his plan yet, but it’s...it’s bad. Sure, the demons have done some terrible things to us, but that doesn’t mean all of them are guilty. I want to stop him, but I don’t know how.”

Emma nodded in agreement. “He told us earlier and I don’t like it either.” she firmly said. “Ray and I talked it over and we have a plan, but it’s risky. Like, really risky. It has to do with the Seven Walls and...”

You held on to every word Emma and Ray spoke. Risky was your middle name. Well, not actually, but it was something that became your friend. You and your family looked death in the face too many times to count. What would be another?

By the end of it, you were sure this new plan would change Norman’s mind, or at least convince him to give up the whole ‘genocide’ thing. It was decided by Ray that tomorrow, you’d all talk to Norman. Things seemed to be looking up. No, they had to be.

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

The halls were empty and you were alone. How was it you got lost in the first place? You made sure to have every twist and turn memorised, so why did you end up in the wrong corridor twice? Ray would surely tease you for getting lost. What an absolute--

You slammed into someone’s chest. A yelp escaped your throat as the person in question lost his footing. He sucked in a sharp breath and went tumbling straight into you. Your back hit the ground as the boy threw out his arms on either side of your head to brace himself. You didn’t need a name to know who you had tumbled into. Light hair, soft eyes, fancy waistcoat and suit.

“Norman?”

He hovered over you with wide eyes. His lips were inches from yours and he was just so, so close.

Thump, thump, thump.

Your heartbeat was so gosh dang loud. Could he hear it? Could he see the way your face burned red?

“Uhm--I--I--uh--”

Why wasn’t he moving? Why weren’t you moving? Why was it so hard to look him in the eyes? A nervous smile broke out across Norman’s lips. He pushed himself off of you and offered out a hand. You gingerly took it.

“Sorry.” Norman said, helping you to your feet. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?” Your gaze darted from his lips to his dazzling eyes and then to his cheeks dusted in red. Your heart wouldn’t stop slamming against your chest. It kept going, and going until you felt like you were about to burst.

“Sh-shouldn’t I be asking you that?” you retorted. “I’m not the one who--you know...gets sick all the time.” You weren’t sure why you said it like that, or why that made Norman smile so cutely, but he was smiling. That made your heart flutter. You glanced around the corridor a few times, and somehow, you kept finding focus on his lips.

What was wrong with you?

Norman caught on fast--like he always did. “Oh I see,” he said with a low chuckle. You swallowed. His voice really did deepen (but you kind of liked it). For a moment, you thought he caught onto your staring, but instead of commenting on it, he intertwined his hand with yours and led you through the winding halls.

“Don’t tell Ray I got lost.” you muttered. Norman laughed and it was like the sound of happiness itself. “I won’t.”

The halls all looked the exact same: cream coloured paint, nature-like decorations, and numbered wooden doors. You forgot what number your room was, so that was probably why you got lost. Norman took a sharp left where you recalled should be a right instead. “Wait isn’t it that way?”

“I have something to give you, so we’re going to make a quick detour.” Norman’s cheeks dusted pink and he looked the slightest bit nervous. “What is it you want to show me?” He flashed you a contagious smile. “It’s a surprise.”

“What kind of surprise?”

“I can’t tell you,” he said with a chuckle, “that’s why it’s called a surprise.”

When you got to his office, you were nervous. Surprises were fun, yes, but in a world where nearly getting eaten by wild demons fell into the category of ‘surprise’, you learned not to like them very much.

Norman closed the door behind you and it softly clicked shut. Okay, you thought. So he was locking the door and making his way over to his desk. Okay, that’s fine. Norman shuffled through a cabinet, that nervous look still on his face. Okay, okay, nothing wrong here. He gently shut the drawer, and as he walked out from behind his desk, you took note of the small little box he fiddled with.

Okay. Okay. Box. Nervous. Locked door. Did he not want anyone to interrupt whatever he was about to do?

Norman heaved in a deep breath. A really, really, really deep breath. “(Y/n), I have never met anyone else like you. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, and you’re beautiful and kind.” He sunk to one knee and opened the little box. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes!”

---------

You jolted awake with a start.

“Sorry,” Norman said. He scribbled a few words down in his notebook. “Did I wake you?”

Ah, that’s right. After you talked with Emma and Ray, you all met up with Norman and hung out for a bit. But when had you gotten to his office? Much less, fallen asleep? You rubbed your eyes with a shake of your head. Judging by the tired look on Norman’s face, it was way past bedtime.

The heavy cloak around your shoulders offered a welcoming warmth. It smelled like books. It smelled like parchment and ink. It smelled like Norman and it was comforting.

He glanced up from his notebook and curiously met your gaze. “What are you smiling at?” The dream popped up in your mind and your smile grew. “I had a good dream.”

“What was it about?” he inquired without looking up.

“You.”

The scratch of the pencil froze and he met your gaze. “You had a dream about me?” Your cheeks flushed. “Yeah, and you proposed.” Norman’s back went rigid and he turned as red as an apple. “I-I pro--proposed to you?” he stammered. You snickered, a smug smile tugging on your lips. “It was really sweet. And if you’re wondering, I said yes. I was going to kiss you, but then I woke up.” You stood up with a sigh. “It was disappointing, but that’s okay.”

You let out a small laugh and neatly folded Norman’s cloak. You left it on the couch and made your way across the room. “That’s a nice notebook.” you said. “What’re you writing about?”

Norman stilled and closed the book with a smile. “It’s nothing special.” He put the pencil down ever so quietly and stood. “Do you seek my affections?” he inquired. You settled on the wall. “Don’t you have work to do?” Norman looked down at you. His fringe brushed across his eyelashes, and he loosened his tie. Slowly.

Your heart steadily drummed against your chest. “What are you doing?” The false innocence in your voice caused Norman to chuckle lowly. He caressed your cheek with a feather-light touch. “Well, you did say you were disappointed right? Why don’t I make it up to you?”

He rested an arm on the wall with a sly smirk. Your lips connected and it made your stomach flip-flop. The kiss was slow, it was sweet. You found yourself pulling him closer, running your hands through his hair and yanking him over. "Norman?" He met your gaze with half-lidded eyes. "Yes (N/n)?"

"Where did you learn how to do that?"

He smirked and it was hot. The fact that he kept his arm braced against the wall didn’t help either. "Why?" he lowly inquired. "Do you like it?" Your breath caught in your throat and you found yourself wanting more.

Knock, knock!

Norman didn't look too happy about that. He ran a hand over your cheek and gently tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, that half-lidded look of his melting into warmth and love. He made his way to the door, tightening his tie and smoothing out his hair with a quick touch.

"Hello--?" Norman fell short mid-sentence. As soon as your gaze locked with the person on the other side, you understood why. Ray stood in the threshold, just as red-faced as you and Norman, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll come back later.” he muttered.

Oh great. Had he been eavesdropping? You glanced at Norman and he glanced at you, then Ray, and back to you. Ray sucked his teeth and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Don’t have too much fun.” he said, a smirk twitching onto his lips.

You made your way to the threshold with a groan. “Rayyyy!”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry.” he coolly replied. “Do whatever, I didn’t see anything.”

PART 2 <--- READ PART 2

NOTE: I spent a WHOLE WEEK writing this. Please reblog so I know you guys like it :)

TIP JAR

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physicalturian · 4 years ago

Text

[18+] Goodbye Head - Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

[She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] [No spoilers from the anime or the manga]

Words : 5162

Archive of our own

Tags : Cheating / Cunnilingus / Light bondage / NSFW / Power Play / Choking / Hair-Pulling / Vaginal sex

If you think I should add some tags, tell me!

Summary : Gojo is the worst boyfriend, after one too many time he forgets to come at one of your evening together: you've had enough. Nanami is here to help with what Gojo has been lacking your entire relationship : nice sex, maturity and not being a bitch.

---

Putting my phone away, I rested my elbows on the counter and exhaled, frustrated, “He’s going to be late,” I said. As I took the glass of wine Nanami was handing me, he added, “Again,”. As much as I was disappointed that my boyfriend was missing on our time together, I laughed at Nanami’s remark. He was right, but what else could I do? Cry about it? Not for him, no.

There was no reason to make a big deal out of it, it wasn’t unusual for him to get delayed on our free nights together, a few other times he wouldn’t even come. At this point, I was more surprised to have him there at all, than to receive his messages filled with “sorry’s” and “it won’t happen again”, hours after he was supposed to pick me up or meet me. Even tonight, Nanami had to come pick me up since my boyfriend wasn’t there on time and had borrowed my car.

Raising my glass towards Nanami, he mirrored it a moment before taking a sip and focusing back on the pan in front of him as he cooked, “Well, it’s you and me once again,” I scoffed with a smile, that I tried hard to keep up and not let it get to me. Twirling the glass in my hand, I got lost in the dark red liquid, thinking of what to do next. The efforts I was putting into this relationship were not reciprocated at all, I was giving more than receiving, and I was past the point of getting disappointed.

“Something on your mind?” Nanami’s voice brought me back to earth and I straightened my back with a nervous laugh. I looked at him, then at my drink, then at him again, then chugged the wine down and said, in one breath, “You know what? Yeah, did you know that when he fucks me, he says ‘Get out, get out’? Like- what’s that about? The bitch just got in, it doesn’t make sense,” Nanami quirked a brow, the smallest of smiles on his face. Wiping his hands on his apron, he rolled up his sleeves a bit higher before putting the pastas in the water. “Are you sure that’s what he’s saying?” His tone made it seem like he had a suggestion.

Frowning, I asked him to go on. “Maybe he’s saying Geto, it’s a bit closer and I know they were close… I think they’re still friends,” He trailed off, walking around the kitchen to get some spices and adding them to the pan, all while talking. I had to give it a thought a moment, weighing his words. Could it be? He never really explained why he went out, I always thought it was sorcerer business and did not give it more mind. But now that Nanami mentioned it, it made sense. I waited for him to put the wine bottle on the counter then took it by the neck and chugged a few gulps before chuckling.

“You’re saying he’s cheating on me with the hipster dude?” I scoffed dryly, drinking some more, my grip on the bottle tightening. “We’re not sure though… Right?” I argued, more to myself than to Nanami, trying to convince myself. I don’t know why I was willing to give him a chance, I knew the moment I got together with him he wasn’t the settling type. Twirling the base of the bottle on the counter, I was thinking, should I break it off now or wait until we’re home, and until we’ve talked… “I don’t think he’s worth you getting sad over him, if that’s what’s going on,” I heard Nanami real close to me as he gently took the bottle from my hand and took a sip too. Less desperate than mine.

Smacking my lips together, I sucked in my teeth and turned around, looking at Nanami with a determined expression. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back, “You’re right, he’s shit. He doesn’t even fuck that well,” I huffed, hopping on the counter while Nanami stirred the pastas.

“Is that so? He prides himself in that, if he hears you say that he’ll probably break down,” “There is no pride in being the worst,” I spat. That’s when I felt like ruining this man, or at least his credibility in that department. Giving Nanami a look, I took a deep breath and started listing, raising a finger at each thing, “He only fucks me from behind, I’ve never seen this man’s face during sex. Oh! And he says the condom doesn’t feel good, well sorry you think your raw-fucking feels good?” I paused when Nanami handed me my glass, he had filled it up and was smiling, chuckling slightly too as he nodded for me to follow him so that we could talk on the couch.

Doing so, I got off the counter and followed him, making sure not to spill my drink when I jumped. I had to force myself not to look at the blonde man’s back, finding a sudden appeal to his entire person. Ignoring my train of thought, I slumped on the sofa and felt bad for blurting out those facts about him, so I apologized to Nanami with a short laugh, “It’s just, I was willing to let it slide because I think I loved him, or something? But the more I think of it, the more I realize I let too much shit slide, you know? Sure, I can let him and his weird texting habits, be. He would either text way too much, needy for attention or would completely disappear off the face of earth without a warning,” I huffed.

I couldn’t believe I was telling Nanami all that, it wasn’t his problem and yet he was listening, willingly, not making weird faces or mocking my situation. “You are talking about it in the past already,” He noticed.

Laughing breathlessly, I nodded, “I guess I am… Maybe I’ve already made a decision, but I won’t rush it…” I trailed off, silence setting between the sorcerer and me. I couldn’t keep it like that, so I took a sharp intake of breath and continued, “Can I still rant just a tiny bit more?” The man in front of me nodded, telling me to go on. “I don’t think the man has had sex education classes,” I stated, making Nanami laugh shortly in his drink before having him ask what I meant by that.

“Except for the fact that he didn’t want to wear a condom, ever, he also didn’t seem versed in foreplay… he would just… Fuck and groan loudly, finishing super quickly,” I said, still not believing I was telling him that. Extending my hand in front of me, I gestured for him to pause as I had seen he was going to talk, “No, you know what? I’ll say it, it’s the truth so I’ll say it,” Nanami frowned at first before quirking a brow, intrigued.

“I was his personal fleshlight, that’s it, that’s what it was,” I gestured that I was done, giving him the floor so to speak. The man in front of me had to put his drink down before opening his mouth, a slight frown on his forehead, “It couldn’t be all that bad, he helped you finish, right?” He asked, probably to give Gojo at least some credits. Although from the look in his eyes, he was expecting the answer I gave him, albeit less loudly.

A loud cackle left my mouth, “Him? No, no, I don’t remember him doing that, ever. It’s alright though, I probably took too long for him,” I shrugged, tending to my drink, once again starting to get lost in it. The more I thought of it, the more it made sense. He was probably imagining someone else the entire time, I was played for a fool. “Shouldn’t have sucked him off either, since he never returned the favor,” I grumbled, suddenly feeling bitter as I drank some more.

“So, he’s garbage,” Nanami said, bringing the glass to his lips. I watched his every move, finding the man had some charm, some grace, he was poised and mature. Everything Gojo wasn’t. A strand of hair was falling from his perfectly slicked back hair, but it didn’t make it disheveled, no, it was a controlled mess. When he swallowed, it brought my attention to his throat, free from the tie that minutes ago was restraining it. It was still around the collar of his shirt, only now it was loose, along with two buttons undone.

I was ripped out of my daydream when I heard my name being called. Blinking, I looked up and stared at Nanami, confused. “I asked you a question,” he said.

“Right, uh… Sorry, I got lost in… my thoughts,” I gestured at nothing, “Sadness and all that jazz, you know?” I joked, gulping down more wine and made a rewinding gesture, this time, “Could you repeat?”

The blonde hummed. A sound that sent something coursing through my body, something I didn’t think I would get from him. “I asked what you were going to do about him,”

“Break up. Even if he isn’t cheating, I’ve come to the realization he ain’t the shit, you know?” He nodded, a pensive expression on his face. The man seemed deep in thought, and since he wasn’t talking, it gave me time to enjoy the view a bit more. He leaned forward once more to set his glass down, which gave me the most exquisite view of his back muscles and his ass, but I didn’t comment.

“He never made you cum, then.” Nanami stated, more than asked. I stammered, my cheeks heating up quickly. He wasn’t wrong, and we had been on the topic for a moment… But he said it so crudely, I was caught off guard, yet I found myself nodding at first, before replying, “Which isn’t like, a big deal or anything, he’d leave the room to get cleaned up, shower, I’d finish with anything. Or not, depending on how lazy I would be. I don’t get my hopes up anymore, really,” “And how long have you been together?”

“Don’t know, a few months?” I replied quickly but confused.

Nanami looked me up and down, asking another question, “And before that, how long had you been single?” I don’t know why I laughed timidly, so I brought the glass to my lips to hide it before finishing my drink and putting the glass down next to Nanami’s. It felt like an interview with all the questions he was shooting at me, yet I replied, “A while, I don’t remember- why all the questions?”

“It’s been a while then, since you’ve been properly eaten out,” He ignored my question and continued, making me smile in surprise, my eyes wide. I was silent for a moment, considering my answer, or if I should even answer, it all happened quickly, and my first words were, “Kento!” I exclaimed under my breath in an overdramatic tone. He did not budge, and said in what could have been described for playful, at least for him, “Is that a yes?”

“I mean… yeah, yes it’s been a while, but I don’t see why that’s any of your concern,” I said lightly, suddenly aware of the distance between us that was close to none. His knee was brushing against mine, and slowly as he spoke, his hand brushed over my knee, “I want to get those hopes up again, along with those legs,” There was the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, but it was mostly a serious suggestion that did not displease me, if anything I was feeling excited. He had a way with words that left me speechless, unlike my boyfriend who I tried to tune out most of the time.

Fuck it says a lot about our relationship, doesn’t it? Coming to that realization, I held Nanami’s gaze with mine, looking down at his lips a few times before locking my eyes on his once more. “If you want to, then yes, I’d definitely take you up on that… offer… But don’t feel like you need to do it-“ I was thrown off balance when Nanami brought my legs on his and made me fall on my back. I was quick to support my weight on my elbows to look at him, flustered. “I don’t feel obligated, I want to do this. I’ve been picturing you naked for so long, forgive me for the eagerness,” He breathed as he moved to position himself properly between my legs.

I matched his eagerness in unbuttoning my pants, letting him pull them down, “Don’t apologize, I like the fervor, it’s flattering,” I told him with a bit of shyness in my voice. The blonde got rid of my pants, throwing them behind him before focusing back on me. He paused a moment, taking a good look, making me slightly self-conscious but I didn’t voice it. It quickly dissipated when his hands gripped my thighs semi-tightly, rubbing them affectionately. “I’ll give you all the flattery you deserve,” He whispered, leaning in for a kiss but stopping just before our lips could meet. “Do you want to make him jealous?”

I was holding my breath in expectation when I said, “I’m not really the type…” he chuckled and kissed me softly, shortly, pulling back after a moment. “Are you sure?” He slowly moved lower, raising my shirt to press a kiss on my stomach, I let out a shaky breath and tried to pull him back up by his tie, “Maybe I do,” It earned me a grunt from the man, but he let me guide him up. He kissed me once more, this time while removing his tie, “Let’s keep those wandering hands off for now,” With a smile he took hold of my hands and wrapped his tie around it, not too tightly but enough to immobilize them for now.

Reaching for my pants, he took my phone and slid it in my hands, making sure I was holding it when he let go and said, “Send him a picture of us whenever you’d like, if he’s not too stupid he’ll understand,” I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my lips, but quickly my cheeks heat up when Nanami paused and looked at me longer than necessary, a genuine smile on his lips this time. “Alright, get at it now, stop staring at me,” I huffed, unlocking my phone with my thumb which was the best I could do right now.

Nanami pushed my phone down, while I was still holding it, and made me look at him as he crawled up once more, “Ask politely,” he breathed against my lips before kissing them. I returned the kiss with a lot more passion, gasping in the kiss when his fingers slid inside my underwear and pressed between my legs, curling his fingers ever so lightly. He didn’t have to ask twice, I was the one to break the kiss breathlessly, already too impatient from just his promise, “Please, Kento,” I tried to grab the buckle of his belt with the tip of my fingers, he was faster to pull back with a dark laugh.

“And to think Gojo hasn’t been giving you all his attention, what a grave mistake,” He trailed off, I hooked one of my legs on his shoulder while he took my underwear off, throwing it on the ground with my pants. When I was fully open for him, he helped me hook my other leg on his shoulder and leaned in, his mouth closer to my fold, “Kento, stop wasting time, just…” I held back from asking him to fuck me, because he was not going to, not tonight, or at least not right now, “Please…” I pleaded.

“Fuck you look so good like this, legs spread wide, begging for my tongue,” Before he latched his lips on my sex, he said, “Be good and show me how good you’re feeling,” then dragged his tongue slowly, from my entrance where I felt his muscle prod, to my clit, with more pressure he flicked his tongue a few times, making me swear under my breath in surprise. I took the opportunity to take a photo of him from that very angle, his gaze locked on mine and not on the camera. Nanami stopped and pressed a kiss on my inner thigh. “Go ahead, send him, you won’t be able to focus much once I’ve started,” His words made me hurry in my writing.

I was quick to send the picture to my boyfriend, along with a message reading “Slumber party 😊” then I locked the screen and let my phone fall on the pile of clothes on the ground. “Don’t worry, I made you look good with the angle,” I joked. I don’t know why I did that, but I felt the need to lighten the mood. Nanami did not care, “Of course I’d look good, your legs around my neck are quite the accessory,” I could feel my core pulsing simply by his words, he hadn’t said much but the charisma rolling off him turned me on more than I was ready to admit.

Without losing more time, Nanami dived once again between my legs. This time, he wasn’t holding my legs anymore, one hand was grabbing my ass while the other spread my lower lips as he dragged his tongue through my fold. It was slow and delicate at first, I was arching my back at the pleasure it was giving me, but I was not nearly as close as I wanted to be. After a few minutes, the pace increased, his lips around my clit were doing more than licking, they were sucking, blowing, biting, the latter having brought a deep grunt as I moaned “More,” before covering my mouth with my tied hands.

He was playing me like an instrument. Upon hearing my plea, Nanami looked up with a smirk, he was enjoying the way my cheeks burned up from begging, the humiliation, the submission, he was relishing in it. Seeing me writhing under him seemed to make him go wild, and yet he did not seem content yet, he wanted to make me beg more. He returned to his task, his tongue lapping at my sex while groaning in pleasure too, it was a lot more stimulating, and when I felt his hand let go of my leg, I held my breath, letting out a controlled whine when he slid two fingers inside me.

When he started thrusting them in and out, I moaned in my hands, covering the lascivious sounds that were escaping my mouth. I was very much aware of how loud I was being, and I was trying to keep it down as much as possible, I had been told many times to keep it down by my boyfriend and had taken the habits of doing just that. That’s when Nanami surprised me and paused everything, his free hand gripping my thigh with force to keep them from closing on him. “Breathe, move your hand from your mouth and let me hear you,”

When I took too long to obey him, he gently moved my bound hands from my mouth, I let out a shallow breath, “There,” He breathed, smiling down at me for letting him do as he pleased, “A lot better already, let’s see how good you sound now,” My eyes darted to his lips, it made him smile knowingly. He let me grab his shirt with my tied hands, but did not comply when I pulled him closer, instead he curled his fingers inside me, elating a weak gasp, “Oh that does sound better, I think you can do even more,” “Kento…” I whispered, wanting more of his touch, more than just his fingers but also the closeness of his body against mine, his lips…

Humming, he thrusted his fingers deeper all the while looking at me with a satisfied smile, “My name rolls of your tongue so beautifully, but if you want something you have to ask for it, I’m not a mind reader,” I rolled my eyes, knowing full well that he knew what I wanted, but he cut my attitude down to the root when he rubbed his thumb over my clit along with thrusting his fingers inside me. I moaned his name in surprise but didn’t stop as he kept his thrusts at a fast pace. “That’s it, you’re being so loud for me, you’re being so good,” He showered me with praise at each sound that left my throat in pleasure.

Hearing him say those things had an effect on me, it was almost electrifying how good it felt, the feeling went straight to my core. He must have felt my walls clench around his fingers since he leaned closer, his free hand traveling the length of my body to gently settle on my chin, “God, look at you-“ “Please kiss me, please- fuck,” Arching my back, I felt his fingers hit the perfect spot and it made me cry in pleasure, my eyes closing in pure bliss. That cry was muffled when Nanami’s lips crashed hungrily against mine, his fingers thrusting faster and faster inside my aching sex.

I was getting closer to relief when suddenly everything stopped and Nanami leaned back, out of breath and grinning while I let out a humiliating whine. “You’re such a good girl for me, just from my fingers…” He said as he pulled his fingers out of me, and moved down once more, both of his hands holding my thighs with a painful hold… A painfully pleasurable hold. I was fully aware of each of his touch, of his stroke on my body, on my burning skin, and yet, I felt like his touches were hotter than my skin, it sent shivers down my spine at each graze, each grasp.

Giving a tentative lick in the length of my sex, he said smugly, “I’ll have you cum on my face or not at all, now be good and be loud for me, we have a spectator,” He showed me his phone where Gojo’s name was displayed, Nanami mouthed ‘voicemail’ then started fucking me his tongue, I quickly called out his name in despair, making him look up, my slick running down his chin. “Can I?” I motioned my hands to his hair, “Don’t be shy, give it a push,” He cooed me, and I did exactly that.

I pushed his face between my legs and felt the vibration of his groan against my clit, pressure started building inside me once again. My mouth fell open, sounds of pleasure pouring out of my mouth as I gripped the blonde’s hair with more force, our moans were basking the room, definitely giving a show to the asshole who was going to hear it soon enough. Sucking my swollen nub, Nanami made the most sinful sounds, getting me so high on pleasure with his ministrations that I heard a sob escape my lips. Lust was clouding my senses, my head rolled back as a shiver ran through my whole body, my heels digging inside Nanami’s back while I arched my back.

His name escaped my mouth over and over again, at each press of his tongue against my clit, each time he’d drag his tongue along my fold, I was rocking my hips against his mouth for more. It only took his hands around my hips, pulling them towards his mouth for a better access, for me to let out another high-pitched cry of pleasure. The knot inside me snapped, utter bliss flooded my body as I felt the tension leave my body and my muscles relaxed, legs going limp around Nanami’s shoulders. I felt him give one last lick before gently removing my hands from his hair and lifting his head to hang up the phone.

When his eyes set on mine, he frowned, “Are you alright?” with care, he untied my wrists. It wasn’t as tight as it could have been, which meant it did not leave a mark, nor did it leave pain, something I was grateful for. “I’m more than fine, thank you for this…” With a short laugh, I tried to sit up, but Nanami held me down just a bit longer as he used his tie to get me cleaned up. I went to stop him, in vain when the man just looked at me while slithering his hand between my legs once more. “It’s gross, I could have gotten a towel or something…” I trailed off as I finally sat up, my thighs already a bit sore.

“Gross? You gave me the most enjoyable display that led to this, gross wouldn’t be the word I’d use to describe it. A treat, perhaps, a gift even, but not gross.” Flattered by his words I felt bad when I pointed at his dirty tie, “I meant… to use your tie for it,” Looking down at his hand, he did not react as he added, “It was going to go to the washing machine anyway,” He shrugged as he dropped it on the low table while leaning over to hand me my clothes. Thanking him, I saw his chin was still glistening with my cum, I quite enjoyed the sight but pointed at my own chin, for him to mirror, “You got something right there,”

Quirking a brow, he gave me a mischievous smile, “Is that so?” He asked, tilting his head to get closer to me, he looked down at me, the smile never leaving his face, “It’s your mess, clean it,”

Surprised, I stared at him a moment then let my eyes travel down to his chin, my breath hitched. If it had been anyone else, I would have stood up and told him to do it himself, but there was something with Nanami Kento that made my knees weak. So weak I could let them drop to the ground and take care of him in ways he’s never been taken care of. Instead, my mouth opened barely, my hand reached for his chin and placed itself under it. I approached my lips and stuck my tongue out then licked him tentatively, he wrapped his hand around my neck, holding it lightly. “Give me more enthusiasm,”

“Be grateful I’m doing it at all,” I breathed against his skin, tracing my tongue over his jaw. He chuckled in response, the side of his fingers digging in the side of my neck barely. “With how thorough you’re being, I’d say you’re enjoying it a lot more than you’re admitting it,” He grunted against my ear, stopping my actions. I pushed against his hand and pressed kisses down his jaw, when I tried to push him down, he tutted me, “Let’s eat first-“ he got interrupted by his phone’s constant ‘dings’, making him sigh as we both look at it and saw Gojo’s spam.

“Seems like he listened to our little message,” Nanami said, a little too happily. I let out the loudest annoyed groan when the blonde opened the conversation, he tilted the phone for me to see too. It made me laugh how he had left him on read the last message he sent, before the spam.

Satoru Gojo: ???

Satoru Gojo: what??

Satoru Gojo: what’s going on??

Satoru Gojo: Hello????

Satoru Gojo: Nanamin??

Satoru Gojo: Hi? :))

Satoru Gojo: don’t be like that, answer me

He was still typing when Nanami slowly typed back,

You: I gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch.

Satoru Gojo: I GET THAT

Satoru Gojo: but like

Satoru Gojo: can I see??

Satoru Gojo: was she crying?

Satoru Gojo: why was she crying?

You: Because I made her cum. She was very polite about it, the way she asked to grip my hair…

I face Nanami quickly, my face flushed. “Don’t- there is no need to share that? He doesn’t deserve it” I breathed in panic. “Let’s say, it’s a goodbye gift, for him. To see what he lost,” Nanami said calmly.

Satoru Gojo: deadass?

Satoru Gojo: i did too

“He never did, but it’s fun he thinks he did. That means I fake well,” I said mockingly. Nanami placed his hand on my thigh and rubbed it gently, casually going higher and higher as he waited for Gojo’s texts. “What you gave me was not fake, I know what to expect now. You better not fake with me or you’ll pay the price, understood?”

My eyes widened, I scoffed jokingly but felt my arousal was very present from his words. “As long as you’re good, I won’t feel the need to fake,” I shrugged. He laughed genuinely, his hand sliding to my hip then to my lower back, “This is going to be fun,”

Satoru Gojo: she never cried tho

Satoru Gojo: do it again

Satoru Gojo: nanamin?

Satoru Gojo: hey, make her cum again

Satoru Gojo: Nams? Nanamin??

Nanami locked his phone, leaving the sorcerer on read, and turned to look at me, “That’s enough Gojo Satoru for one day, let’s see if the penny drops when he’s alone with his thoughts,”

“Right, I don’t think he realizes I’m breaking up with him, it sounds promising…” I mumbled, looking up at the blond man next to me when I felt him press gently my side, “Let’s eat first, then clear things up with him, but I have a few things to do before we talk to him once more,” the man said as he stood up, extending his hand to help me stand up. Taking his hand in mine, I let him guide me to the kitchen where he turned the stove on once more.

“As I said, first we eat, then…” He let go of my hand and stepped very close to me, leaning in, his lips grazed the shell of my ear, “Then I’ll fuck you senseless. Maybe I’ll start by fucking you in front of that glass over there,” he turned my head delicately, making me look at the bay window behind us, his open mouth trailed down my neck, barely touching my skin, “I want to show everyone how good you look when you take my cock-“ Before he finished his sentence, I hurried my hands to the buttons of his shirt. “I’m not waiting until we eat-“

Laughing, he gripped my hands tight and made me let go, “Oh, you are. You’re going to be a good girl and take it when I give it, understood? Or… you can beg, see if I care,” He trailed off, walking off to the fridge.

Looking at him, I already knew the evening was going to be long. But fuck, it sounded promising. I was not against begging, not if it was him.

#jjk #jjk nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #kento nanami #nanami kento #writer #writings #ao3 writer #ao3 physicalturian #physicalturian #masterlist #fanfiction #fanfic

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yukimoji · 5 years ago

Note

Oooh your requests are open, I'm so excited! Could I ask for a Tanjiro x Reader in a modern AU setting (Kimetsu Academy, perhaps?) where Reader visits Tanjiro (who's crushing on her) at his bakery and he sees her playing with his siblings? It just warms his heart up and they're all like 'You should marry our brother!' and ahhh just fluff galore! Headcanons, scenario, short fic, anything is fine with me, whatever's easiest for you! Thank you so much! ~Oblivion~

(a/n: hi again!!! thank you so much for requesting! this is such an adorable request, im literally so soft rn ya hear??? tanjiro is such best boy im 😔✊✊,, i hope you like this and have a great day!)

(this became longer than expected, are headcanons supposed to be this long??? per usual, there will typos and grammar errors! happy reading!)

Total words: 1770+ words

Genre: Fluff

No manga spoilers

Warnings: None

Will You Marry Our Brother? ( Kamado Siblings x Reader, Tanjiro Kamado x Reader) I Headcanons

During your time at Kimetsu Academy, you had the pleasure of meeting the owners of a nearby bakery, the Kamado family. You shared classes with the eldest son, Tanjiro Kamado. You became good friends with the boy, and eventually you met his younger sister, Nezuko Kamado. You adored his sister and the two of you instantly became close friends, because of her kind and caring nature.

Since Tanjiro was your classmate, you usually sat beside him. Each chance that he would get, his attention would be focused on you, chatting and asking about your day with an obvious flush in his face. Honestly, you thought it was kind of cute, seeing him all flustered up all around you. You sort of got a crush on him, not that he knew about it.

You would hang out with Nezuko in-between school breaks, eating Lunch with her as the two of you would have girl talks. She would always keep you company, and if ever you needed someone to lean on, you bet that she would always be there to support you.

You could say that you were more than shocked when you discovered that they had four more younger siblings. You didn't have the honor of meeting them properly, because of your busy schedule and just the overwhelming amount of academic pressure on your shoulders that hindered you from visiting their bakery. However, judging by the wonderful stories that Tanjiro would tell you in the middle of school breaks, they seemed like absolute sweethearts, and you were looking forward to meeting them.

However, you would later have the chance to meet them. It was a peculiar day, and the teachers weren't as harsh on you all like they would normally. Not only that, you craved for something sweet and warm. You just wanted to just bask in positive vibes, and you knew exactly where you wanted to go.

Your legs stopped in front of a small shop, and almost immediately, a wave of gentleness hits your body with so much comfort. You entered the bakery, a bell ringing as you begin to salivate at the sight of the delicious treats displayed on the counter. Nezuko takes notice of your presence, and turns around to welcome you with a big smile on her face.

When you finally picked out the goodies you desired from the shelf, you made your way to the cashier to pay for them. As you got near, you heard little strange noises coming from below the cash register. Confusion began to grow as you recognized the strange noises sounded like the sound effects from a popular mobile game. You became even more perplexed as Nezuko's expression hardened, and she instantly marched behind the cashier in slight annoyance.

A loud squeal of surprise erupted as the sound effects abruptly stopped. Then, suddenly, a young boy emerges from the cashier, a sheepish look evident in his face as he rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. The moment he notices your figure just standing awkwardly behind the cash register, he immediately turns red and mutters incoherent apologies as he would repeatedly bow profusely. You just give him a reassuring smile, and you said something about also liking the game he was playing.

You learned that this boy is Takeo, one of Tanjiro's younger siblings. As he continued to check out your treats, he couldn't help but find you so familiar.

Are you the girl in his brother's lockscreen photo?

After you paid for your orders, you introduced yourself to him, and his suspicions were confirmed. He couldn't help a mischievous smirk form on his lips, as he vividly recalls all the moments his brother would dreamily talk about a girl named [ Y / N ].

You asked him to play one round of the mobile game he played before with you. After seeing how the bakery was not really busy and getting Nezuko's approval, he accepted your offer. You bonded with him over the game, and the two of you had so much fun! You were pretty sure that you played more than one round with the young Kamado!

You were absolutely great at the game, much more so than him! You beat his high score, and he wouldn't admit it, but he swears he will beat your score one day. He could not wait to totally tease his brother about this.

Later on, you meet Hanako, Shigeru and the youngest, Rokuta. You were absolutely delighted to finally meet them. They were exactly how Tanjiro described them, they were all such big sweethearts!

Hanako and Shigeru almost immediately took a liking on you! They bombarded you with so much questions, asking you about your favorite color, animal, and all the little things you liked. The would listen to your answers eagerly, big smiles never fading from their expressions.

They would absolutely invite you to play a few games with them! They looked absolutely precious and you didn't have the heart to say "no". You played so much games with them during your stay, the most prominent being "Tag" and "Hide 'n Seek".

After they become tired from running around so much, they settled on listening to your jokes and puns. You swear they have the most adorable laughter in the world!

Just seeing them being giggling and laughing so much melted your heart into a puddle of joy. These two were absolutely cute and adorable, and they radiated so much positive energy that just fill your entire being with warmth and love.

They think that you are absolutely beautiful and wonderful, just like how their brother described you to be!

And then, there's little Rokuta. At first, he was a little shy to approach you. His big eyes looked at you with so much curiosity, and when you told him your name, his face immediately transformed into one of recognition.

Oh! So you're the [ Y / N ] my big brother keeps babbling about!

You would dote on him so, so much! You couldn't stop the squeals from escaping your mouth as he would adorably babble and tell you about his day! His big eyes hold so much innocence and purity in them, and your mind went absolutely bonkers about how cute this little Kamado is!

When he deemed he trusted you enough, he would raise his little arms up, and his tiny hands would make some grabbing motions. Nezuko would chuckle at his actions and tell you that he wants you to pick him up. You stifled a scream of absolute delight, mustering all willpower not to cry from sheer happiness. A cute and cuddly toddler wanted you to pick him up? Don't mind if I do!

The moment Rokuta is in your arms, he immediately embraces you, his little arms just wrapped around your shoulders. Nezuko cheered you on, commenting about how Rokuta had now grew attached to you. He was nuzzling on your neck, feeling secured in your hold as you silently thanked the gods above for giving you this oppurtunity.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of Crimson hues stared at you with so much adoration from over the counter.

Tanjiro watched how the whole thing unfold. From your little game matches with Takeo, to your giggling fits with Hanako and Shigeru, and to how you held Rokuta in your arms with so much tenderness. All of this left Tanjiro feeling so much warmth and affection in his chest, and he wanted to cry out from the sheer joy of how much you had gotten along with his siblings.

You were absolutely Wonderful. Exquisite. Magnificent. Beautiful. Stunning. Heavenly.

Just so drop-dead gorgeous.

He's in absolute euphoria.

The boy won't admit it, but he's imagining his future with you. Seeing you being so happy with his little siblings makes him wonder what a family with you would look like. Gosh, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

He practically had hearts in his eyes as he kept staring at you like a lovesick puppy, not noticing that Takeo was leaning against the counter with a smug expression on his face.

"Gosh, Nii-san. I knew you had a crush on her, but I didn't know it was this bad."

Tanjiro snaps from his day dream, and he could feel so much blood rush to his face. He was so embarrassed, much more so that Takeo had caught him looking at you all this time! Takeo laughs at his brother's red face, and Tanjiro could only shriek out erratic noises to desperately request Takeo not to get too loud.

You heard a commotion from the counter, and you turned to see a completely red-faced Tanjiro waving his hands vigorously to a guffawing Takeo. You could only giggle at the sight in amusement, and when Tanjiro makes eye contact with you, his face gets even more redder.

In your arms, Rokuta shifts from your neck to look at his big brother. Noticing how the two of you gazed in each other's eyes, he claps his hands in delight and looks up to meet your [ E / C ] orbs.

"Ne, [ Y / N ]-san, will you marry my big brother?"

THE WHOLE BAKERY JUST EXPLODES IN HYSTERICS

Takeo laughs harder than he had before, grabbing at the edges of the counters to prevent himself from falling to the ground from the amount of amusement he was getting from the situation.

Hanako and Shigeru just burst out in full excitement, jumping and smiling at you, asking you repeatedly if you wanted to marry their big brother. They practically pleaded with you, their wide eyes constantly staring at you, in hopes that someday you might officially become their big sister.

Nezuko chokes in shock at her drink. She didn't expect Rokuta to say those words! She immediately goes to your side, and just repeatedly apologizes to you in behalf of Rokuta for putting you in such an awkward position. But, she cannot really lie, she would love for you to become her sister-in-law.

Tanjiro just looked at you in horror and fear. His face had hit the utmost redness it could possibly have attained, and he only wanted to crawl and hide at this very moment. He didn't want his crush on you to be revealed this way! He had special plans for that moment, but it didn't matter anymore, because you now know about his overwhelming feelings for you! Gosh, he felt so humiliated, and it didn't help that you were in such an awkward position just because of his attraction on you!

But then, he was caught off guard by your breathtaking smile. The next words sent Tanjiro's mind into a frenzy, desperately struggling with the urge to faint out of sheer bliss as the bakery exploded again into cheers of celebration.

"I would love to."

#tanjiro x reader #tanjirou x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #tanjirou kamado x reader #demon slayer x reader #moji writes #tanjiro is husband material aight

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avidoro · 4 years ago

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Edit: Guess I’ll put this in here since everyone is just glossing it over to look for the negative parts. I never said you couldn’t ship SessRin. I never said I was anti-SessRin. I know I tagged it as such, but it isn’t because of my opinion. I have friends who ship SessRin. I love those friends. What I mean by these statements is that the community in general is toxic because of the people in it who have caused problems for others. Like, for example, the person who felt the need to jump me about my personal ship because it wasn’t with Rin when I wasn’t even talking about a ship. Or the people who harassed the English voice cast to the point that even they were calling the SessRin community toxic. Or the people who are fighting to have any Sesshoumaru shipping blog deleted if Rin isn’t involved. I am capable of peacefully sharing Sesshoumaru with other shippers if they could be civilized. But since they aren’t, then I feel like I have the right to speak my mind. And those of you who feel the need to fight me about it are just proving my point because you’re so worked up that anyone could have a different opinion that you absolutely have to argue. That being said, I also stated that I would never have said a word about this if it weren’t for the fact that Rin is underage in Yashahime. Sunrise is trying to lie about how much time passed. They clearly didn’t do their own math. And while I’m fine with SessRin shippers who ship her as an adult, I will not tolerate the people who justify her being underage in Yashahime. Also to those trying to argue about Yashahime being canon, I would love to provide the evidence to the statement I saw, but it’s gotten lost in the sea of people arguing about the show being canon. It was something along the lines of her saying the story wasn’t canon or wasn’t hers but the three girls were and that she was washing her hands of InuYasha and other’s could do what they wanted with it. Which kind of implies it’s not canon but she doesn’t care. If I find it again I will definitely share it. But if Rumiko steps up and actually says the show is canon, then I’ll accept it as canon. But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with Rin being underage. But go ahead and continue to comment with your ridiculous arguments. New edit: @tiny-foots It’s not what I saw but I was provided this where Rumiko stated InuYasha was complete within herself meaning the story was done. She left it up to Mr. Sumisawa to write. Take it as you will, but I see that as her giving the okay for a fanfic to be officiated. But I don’t see it as canon. I suppose that can be left up to interpretation. But my personal belief is that it’s not canon. Even before all this I never even saw the original anime as canon.

I am going to start off by saying that I always said I would never be anti-ship. But if this is what it's come to then I am completely against what is happening right now.

Let's just pretend my OTP isn't actually my OTP right now. What I ship has nothing to do with this. In fact I am a multi-shipper, so don't even think about that. This is beyond more than my personal shipping opinions. InuYasha was my comfort series during a very rough time and Sesshoumaru is my favorite character because of his massive character development and redemption arc. He is an astounding character.

The fact that Sunrise has "officially" (I refuse to say canon because it's not canon. Rumiko said so. Fight me!) paired him with Rin is the most disturbing and disgusting thing they could have possibly done. Again, I am not against people who do ship them. If that's what they enjoy then that's fine.

HOWEVER!

The SessRin community is toxic AF! They have been for a long time and now they've been given a reason to really be horrible people. And that's only one reason why I'm disgusted by this entire thing. And mind you, since Yashahime isn't canon anyway, I wouldn't have cared as much if they hadn't done it the way they had. Let me break this down for you. I'm going to list why SessRin is unhealthy, toxic, and morally wrong and I'll even list some of the justifying arguments shippers have tried to use to support it and explain why they're wrong too.

Pairing Sesshoumaru with Rin destroyed his character development and redemption.

Sesshoumaru's father had a strong desire to see his son learn compassion. Toward everyone! Humans and youkai alike. He learned that lesson through both a human and a youkai. Rin and Kagura. These were the characters who were meant to teach him to be compassionate toward others. By pairing him with Rin you have taken away that compassion that he learned. It's like sticking a giant middle finger up to all the humans he was supposed to learn to respect and say he only tolerates Rin and no one else. There goes his redemption! Way to go, Sunrise!

SessRin was never meant to become a thing.

Rumiko went out of her way to create a bond between Kagura and Sesshoumaru as well as Kohaku and Rin. It's clear who we were meant to ship them with. These characters were placed as a barrier between Rin and Sesshoumaru to avoid an improper ship. SessKagu is the ONLY canon Sesshoumaru ship.

No child in their right mind grows up to fall in love with the man who raised them from childhood.

And if they do then they need to seek counseling because that's not healthy. A normal child would grow up to view that man as her father.

And how about these lame and unjustifiable arguments that SessRinners are throwing out.

"He waited until she was an adult! She's 18!"

Do some research. She is not 18! Look at the the facts that have been compiled. She is 15 MAX. She's underage!

"This was normal back then!"

No it was not! Again, do your research! Nobility groomed children to be wives, yes, but it wasn't normal. Even then the girl wasn't bedded until she was an adult. Also, would you portray a black person, in media, as an abused slave in 1800s America by your story's "good guy" and say it's okay because it was normal back then? I don't think so!

"They were meant to be together! It was a given! It was clear!"

Again, no it wasn't! Kagura was placed in the story for this purpose! She was in love with Sesshoumaru and he was falling in love with her. They are the ONLY canon Sess ship!

"Well, you're forgetting about the original series being about a 15-year-old girl getting with a 50+ year old man!"

There are so many reasons why this is an illogical statement. - InuYasha and Kagome met when they were mentally the same age. Sess and Rin met with he was mentally a young adult and she was EIGHT! - Kagome and InuYasha didn't have an official relationship until she returned from her time after three years... WHEN SHE WAS 18! - Every moment in the original story where Kagome was in an inappropriate situation she got mad and did something about it! She didn't just giggle and let the men around her ogle or touch her! - And my personal opinion, I also believe InuYasha and Kagome’s relationship was toxic anyway, so don’t try to hold that one over me. There’s a reason I’m a multi-shipper.

And one of my favorites, even from pre-Yashahime

"NO ONE is shipping child Rin with Sesshoumaru!"

Yeah? Go do a Google image search, you sickos. Edited to include this little treasure in the comments:

Who’s putting words in her mouth? She stated, in an interview plain as day, that Yashahime was not canon! She didn’t write it. An official publication does not canon make! Not to mention “the woman who changed him” is such an incredibly vague statement. If it was meant to be Rin, she’d have just said Rin. As mentioned before, she was very adamant about pushing the Kagura x Sesshoumaru ship. And Kagura definitely changed him. Was it not his compassion toward her specifically that regained his arm and gave him a sword? I’m pretty sure “the woman who changed him” was meant to be a vague statement because the canonical intention was just to leave it open to interpretation and is probably meant to be some random village woman who bonded with Sesshoumaru and ultimately completed his change.

And if, by chance, she did mean Rin, she didn’t say it was canon. Just that she was his wife meaning that is who Sunrise set as his wife in the show. Think about it? She was answering the question of “who had his children in Yashahime.” If she meant Rin, she was avoiding spoilers and giving a hint to who Sunrise chose as his wife. That’s not saying she would have picked Rin, herself. She didn’t write it. So it seems to me that you are the one putting words in her mouth.

Now tell me, if your best friend from grade school who was adopted told you when she was a teen or even an adult, "My dad's hot. We decided to sleep together." would you not find that disturbing? That's SessRin right now.

Also:

HANYOU NO YASHAHIME IS NOT CANON! THIS IS PER RUMIKO TAKAHASHI HERSELF! DO NOT TRY TO JUSTIFY THAT SESSRIN IS CANON NOW BECAUSE IT ISN'T! IT'S JUST AN OVERGLORIFIED AND POORLY WRITTEN FANFICTION!

ONLY THE MANGA IS CANON! OG SESSHOUMARU IS THE ONLY SESSHOUMARU!! That being said, I still say if you do happen to be a SessRin shipper, then you do you. Enjoy what you want. But what is happening right now does not give you a right to justify any toxic behavior that your community is expressing. Again, I wouldn’t even be mad if Sunrise hadn’t portrayed Rin as still being underage. I won’t stand to see people justify this!

#InuYasha #Yashahime #Anti Yashahime #AntiYashahime #Sesshoumaru #Sesshomaru #pedomaru #loliconmaru #antisessrin #Anti sessrin #Yashahime is not canon #anti sunrise #sessrin is toxic #sessrin is unhealthy #grooming is toxic #I would sooner ship Sesshoumaru with an actual dog than I would with Rin #Sesshoumaru is Rin's father

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sidespart · 4 years ago

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The Fall of King Romulus Part 6

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

EXTRA WARNINGS - this chapter is pretty much unrelenting whump and the violence and consent issues (past) tags strongly apply. I have put more detailed (spoiler heavy) warnings at the bottom so if you’re particularly sensitive to that stuff and want to scroll down to check before you read you can do so.

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

In a tavern just outside of Leovan the crowd roars another! And Roman laughs and gamely starts to play another jig. He’s been playing for hours and he drinks in the attention happily, even as the cheers of the crowd become a ringing in his ears. The night is long and his throat is raw and his stomach empty and it’s harder and harder to keep his eyes focused, but his hands are steady on the strings. He sways in place, sweat dripping into his eyes, but it doesn’t matter- the crowd adore him. They sing and dance and laugh along, and after each set they call another, another, another until the room is spinning and his throat is bleeding and the audience’s laughter had turned cruel and high and lilting and-

Roman woke with a gasp and immediately regretted it.

The underground room was still pitch black, the humidity still cloying. At some point during his fitful sleep he had slumped to the floor, Lucius’ ill-attempt at binding having come loose enough to allow him to slide his arms down the length of the pipe. He was awkwardly sprawled at the base with his wrists still pinned above his head and his legs twisted underneath him. He tugged experimentally at his binding and got a sharp spike of pain down his shoulders and spine for his trouble. Whilst he had wasted time sleeping, the silk had become sodden from the moisture of the room and shrunk tight against his wrists, making even Lucius’ knotwork impossible to pull apart.

Not that it would have made much difference if he could get it loose.

Stay here until I come back with your transport.

Grunting with pain, he managed to untangle his legs out from under him and sit up. He pushed himself up on his knees as best he could, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his wrists, but gave it up quickly as the pain lacing down his shoulders intensified.

This was bad.

He chewed on his bottom lip, trying to think, but the heat was making it almost impossible. The black of the room kept swirling back in to crowded tavern, the rush of water into the jeers of a crowd…he could feel the raw burn on his throat and his mind scrambled desperately for another song-

Except it hadn’t happened like that. He shook his head furiously, his hair flicking sweat into the room, trying to banish the tavern from his mind. He had already started traveling with the others by the time he sang in Leovan and if he’d tried to perform so late into the night Virgil would have come stomping down the stairs to tell him he was being ridiculous and to go and get some sleep.

Or Patton would have sat up listening, playing bodyguard, until he couldn’t keep his own eyes open and sweetly suggested that the crowd might want to be getting home to their own families.

Or Logan would appear, pocket watch in hand, demanding he finish within a set time frame in order to allow for optimal sleeping hours.

Roman could almost hear the lecture, relief at a chance to escape the crowd mingling with exasperation at the scholars ridged scheduling.

In the dark Roman glanced over to where he thought the door should be.

The only sound was the gentle hiss of water.

He tried pulling at the rope again.

***

“Hey! It’s you!”

The man blocking Roman’s path back to the ballroom was clearly drunk. He stumbled towards Roman, half leaning on the hallway wall for support, a big dopy smile on his face. “I saw you- I saw you back there – wow!”

“Thank you friend.” Roman smiled brightly and took a step backwards, but not quickly enough to prevent the guy from grasping onto his sash.

“You’re so pretty.” The guy breathed, his eyes unfocused but his grip firm, “I saw you lookin’ at me when you were singin’.”

Roman squirmed. He was almost certainly better trained than his admirer, and he had had a lot less ale, but he was also shorter and skinnier. With the man pressed so close in the narrow hallway it was almost impossible to find the leverage he needed to push him off.

And. This was a nice place. And by the quality of the man’s clothing he was an honoured guest not a servant. Roman had been the one to convince his new companions to accompany him to the local lord’s house for the ball, he had wanted to give them to a chance to relax whilst he performed. He didn’t want to get himself, and them, kicked out by causing a scene- not when he was half hoping they would allow him to continue to travel with them even though the job he’d been hired for was done.

“I look at everyone-” he said, smile fixed and polite ”– engaging the audience is actually very important for-“

“Shush.” The man whispered.

Roman shushed. Grinding his teeth in frustration.

His assailant brought one hand up to paw at his face in a clumsy attempt at seduction, thick rings knocking against Romans jaw. His other hand released the bard’s sash to grip his wrist instead.

“Kiss me,” the man breathed, the stink of ale on his breath making Roman gag.

Face burning with mounting frustration and embarrassment, Roman attempted to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, but the man twisted his head at the last moment to meet his lips with his own. Pressing Roman back against the wall with a slobbering assault as he attempted to pry Roman’s lips open with his tongue.

Panic flickered in Roman’s belly and then just as quickly dulled. It was generally easier to let these things run their course.

And then, suddenly, the pressure on his mouth – and wrist and chest - was gone.

Roman blinked open eyes he didn’t remember squeezing shut to see Patton with an expression so furious Roman had to fight the instinct to cower.

“What.” Patton snarled “Do you think you’re doing?”

“I di-didn’t mean to-“ Roman started.

“Well?!” Patton roared and Roman realised he wasn’t speaking to him – but rather the rich man who appeared to be rapidly sobering up in Patton’s grip. The warrior held him by the scuff of his neck, his toes just scraping the floor. When Patton shook him, the plethora of chains around his neck clinked together musically.

“Roman,” Patton asked, his voice still shaking with an anger that made Roman draw his shoulders up instinctively “do you…know this man?”

“Well…no.” Roman glanced at the chains again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as his heart rate started to return to normal “I think he might be the mayor though Pat, put him down!”

“I don’t care if he’s the King of the elves! Did you want to kiss him?”

“Well no, but – but its fine! These things happen!”

“You call yourself a Prince and this is how you carry on?”

Wait. What?

Roman blinked, feeling strangely hot in the cool hallway.

Patton wasn’t supposed to say that. Patton was supposed to ask what he meant. And Roman would backtrack and feed him some lines about people often feeling entitled to performers time off stage – which was not untrue – and Patton would look at him wide eyed and tell him that would never happen again –

“You’ve been told over and over, to keep yourself to yourself.”

- that Patton would stand guard at every performance from now on if that’s what it took.-

“If you insist on putting yourself into these situations, don’t come crying to me when the inevitable happens.”

-And Roman would be so elated at the implication that they were to keep travelling together that he would almost forget to feel embarrassed at the situation.-

Patton’s lips narrowed into a thin disapproving line, “Don’t be naive. You are far better off alone, Romulus.”

“Dad?” Roman whispered.

“He doesn’t look much like the Prince.”

“Oh, like you’ve seen him.”

“Well he’s meant to be handsome right? This guy’s not winning any contests.”

Roman opened his eyes, squinting against the light. Three men stood around him, illuminated by the glow of an oil lamp. For one wild moment elation flooded through him - his friends had found him after all!

And then their conversation registered and he scowled. Disappointment robbing him of a witty comeback to their insults.

Still. Let them travel almost non-stop for three weeks, spend a night standing out in the middle of a field whilst an old woman sang at herbs, march for five days through a forest - including a detour through he thickets brambles known to man- and then follow that up with an entire day wandering around the city, have two panic attacks and be left to sleep tied up in caller. And then see if they looked their best.

With the gag still in his mouth, Roman’s attempt to covey this sentiment were mercifully muffled.

“I don’t know.” The biggest of the three stepped forward, grabbing a handful of Roman’s hair and yanking his head back painfully, abruptly cutting off his complaints. “I can kinda see it.”

“Be careful Niki,” the one who had first spoken whispered, he was holding the lantern and keeping well back from Roman. “His nibs thinks he’s got devils with him.”

“In here?” Niki cast a glance around at the iron cage of pipework that covered the room. “If he does they’re not coming out.”

“Still.” Lantern-boy whined.

“Well let’s test it.” Niki grinned down and Roman spitefully and released his grip on his hair. In one quick movement he had produced an iron dagger, not unlike Roman’s own, and pressed the flat of it to Roman’s cheek.

Roman stared at him.

“There you see? If was possessed he’d be screaming.” Niki said smugly and pulled his knife back, twisting it slightly as he did so, leaving a shallow cut along Roman’s cheek, making him wince.

“Careful,” lantern-boy said meaningfully “he’s still the Prince’s brother.”

“Oops.” Niki smiled cheerfully down at Roman. “My bad.”

“He needs to drink.” The third man stood far enough back from the lantern that Roman couldn’t see his face, but he saw the way the other two responded to his soft voice, their posture automatically stiffening.

“Here,” lantern-boy stepped forward after a moment, holding out a water skin to Niki who rolled his eyes but reached down to rip the gag from Roman’s mouth.

Roman coughed, swallowing air greedily. His throat was painfully dry, all moisture sucked out by the silk, but he still hesitated when Niki held the skin up to his mouth.

“Listen to me.” He croaked “you-“

“Just drink it.” Niki snapped and Roman surged forward despite himself, swallowing a few precious mouthfuls before the skin was yanked away again.

“You’re from Notaleveale.” he whispered. “Right?”

“Obviously.” Lantern-boy muttered, taking the water skin back from his companion.

“Well then,” he drew himself up as much as he could, ignoring the pain the movement caused “ – as true men of The North I must implore you to assist me. The Marquis has been embroiled in some- some conspiracy of untruths, is perhaps plotting against the very crown itself and-“

“The Marquis de Orenlla couldn’t plot his way out of a paper bag.” Niki snorted contemptuously.

Roman opened and closed his mouth a few times.

“Isn’t he your Lord?” he asked eventually feeling bizarrely offended on the Marquis’ behalf. Niki and lantern-boy were both wearing chest plates embossed with the three peaked mountain range that signified allegiance to Orenlla, the royal kraken of Notaleveale floating above. They were clearly guardsmen brought with Lucius on his journey south.

The third man, who hadn’t spoken since he mentioned Roman needing to drink, wore no identifying uniform.

“It’s not an insult.” Niki shrugged, “personally I prefer an employer too daft to organise a coupe.”

Lantern-boy nodded in agreement, “It’s a, whatcha call it - a positive working environment, innt?”

“…alright.” Roman decided to change tactics. “I’ll double what he’s paying you.” This time both men laughed.

“With what?”

“Well, I. I’m still a Prince I’ll have you know - I have many rich and influential friends who would gladly-“

“Oh really. Where are they then?”

There was an unpleasant pause whilst Roman desperately tried to get his brain to think. He was supposed to be more creative than this!

“You’re no Prince of ours anyhow.” Lantern-boy stepped a bit closer to glare into Roman’s eyes. “Traitor.”

Roman flinched back at the pure look of venom on the young man’s face.

Little fae touched traitor.

“Listen to me. Whatever you’ve heard – it’s not true. My father-“

“Don’t you dare speak his name!” Niki surged froward, pulling Roman up by the neck of his tunic. Their faces were close enough that Roman could feel the spittle from the man’s mouth land on his cheek as he shouted: “After your despicable actions you would dare to-“

“Nicolas. Don’t upset yourself.”

The third man was barely visible to Roman over Niki- Nicholas’- shoulder, but as soon as he spoke the large man stilled, lowering Roman slowly back to the ground.

“Marcus. Some more light if you will.”

Lantern-boy -presumably Marcus– quickly produced a box of long matchsticks, almost tripping over himself in his haste to light more lanterns around the room. By the time he was done the room was brightly lit, the glow from each lamp bouncing off the metal pipes until it filled every corner.

The third man did not look especially Notalevealean, with skin almost as white as Virgil’s and pale white blond hair. He was dressed plainly, with pale grey robes and soft shoes, and carried only a thin walking stick. If he hadn’t spoken, he could have quite easily faded into the background - camouflaged against the dull back drop of pipes.

“Nicholas. Marcus. Go and guard the passages.”

“But we already have a dozen men out there-“

“And I’m sure they’re in need of leadership. Go now.”

The two men glanced at each other. Roman thought for a moment that they would stand their ground, but then Marcus snatched up his original lantern and headed for the door, Niki following after one last reluctant glance back.

“W-wait.” Roman called. “Is my Father alive?”

They disappeared into the gloom of the next room.

Left alone with only the quiet grey man, Roman found himself wishing they’d stayed.

The grey man smiled at him as he shuffled towards the kneeling prince. His smile was an awful thing that did not touch his eyes.

“The young Marquis de Orenlla is a rather silly boy.” He told Roman in his soft papery voice. “Much like yourself.”

Despite himself Roman let out an offended squeak, but the grey man continued unhindered. “He has very little idea how to survive alone, can barely function without his servants.”

Roman caught himself staring at the floor and snapped his gaze back to the grey man’s face. He didn’t want to miss any information he might let slip but looking at him was-

It was difficult.

When he tried to look at the details of his face they seemed to slip away. Was he young or old? What colour were his eyes?

The whole time he had been talking, had his mouth actually moved?

“What are you?” Roman whispered.

The grey man smiled again, Roman shuddered.

“But also like you, he is not wholly stupid. He has started asking some inconvenient questions.”

Within the blink of an eye, the grey man was next to him a knife in his hand. Before Roman had a chance to do more than flinch, he had cut the ties biding his hands, and was back across the room.

Dazed, Roman rubbed his wrists, trying not to wretch.

Up close, the grey man smelt of death.

“Now. Sit there, and listen to me until I finish.”

Romulus whimpered.

“Your father is dead.” The grey man told him bluntly. “You killed him.”

“No.” Romulus- Roman shook his head. Used his newly freed hands to cover his ears. “He was sick.”

“You poisoned him over many weeks.” the grey man whispered. “Disguised it as a common sickness. You tried the same on your brother but he was too strong to succumb.”

Roman lowered his hands. They were pointless anyway- the grey man’s voice seemed to be inside his head.

“That’s not how his strength works!”

“And so instead, you allied yourself with a traitor to the fae court and placed a curse of madness on the crown prince, rendering him unable to rule. You hoped to take over in his place, but luckily your father’s advisors found you out. You were forced to flea with your fae companion.”

Roman stared at him, eyes wide. “That’s insane!”

“That’s the truth.” The grey man insisted. “When The Marquis asks you for the truth, that’s what you’ll say.”

“No.” Roman shook his head. “No, no, no.”

The grey man reached forward, resting his hand gently against Roman’s cheek. Romulus stared up into his eyes.

“Julius?” he whispered.

“In a way.” The grey man’s face seemed to twist. For a single moment, it was Julius’ face that looked disdainful down at him, rendering Romulus mute with terror. And then with another twist to reality it was gone, back to the grey man’s blank visage.

“I’ve had eyes all over looking for you Romulus. I was so sure you must have died in the mountains and yet –“ His fingers tightened on Roman’s face, nails digging cruelly into his skin. “Here you are. Like a little cockroach.”

With a shove he released Roman’s face and walked swiftly to the centre of the room, where the largest pipes rose out of the floor. “Stay on your knees and come here.” he ordered. Face burning, Roman shuffled after him, knees bruising on the stone floor.

“Put your hands here.” He gestured to one of the larger pipes. Even before his hands touched the surface, Roman could feel the heat radiating from it. It was far hotter than the one he had been tied to and although he braced himself he couldn’t hold back a yelp of pain when his hands made contact.

He snatched them back quickly, his palms an alarming shade of red. And without pausing, sprang to his feet, aiming a punch directly at the grey man’s immobile face.

“Stop moving.”

Roman felt his muscles lock, momentum sending him crashing to the ground as the grey man easily sidestepped his swing.

“Don’t move until I tell you too.” The grey man added, leaving Roman frozen on the ground where he landed.

Slowey the grey man stepped around him, crouching down by his head. “Look at me, Romulus.” Roman did so, only moving his eyes to stare at the flickering mirage of the grey man’s face.

Up close, the smell was so bad Roman felt the remains of his pastry threatening to make a reappearance.

“I am going to ask you some questions. You are going to tell me the truth. Nod if you understand.”

Slowly, Roman nodded. The grey man – Julius – whatever it was, had already told him what it wanted him to consider the truth. But even so, ‘tell the truth’ was an easy enough order to get around. Truth being in the eye of the beholder and all.

“And if you don’t, I am going to tell you to hold onto that pipe again, and I am going to tell you to keep holding it until I am satisfied with your answers. Do you understand?”

Roman swallowed. He nodded again.

“Did you kill your father? Tell the truth now.”

“No.” he said quickly and then bit his tongue, cursing. Franticly he looked up at the grey man “You, you said that was a truth for The Marquis, not for everyone I can’t just –“

“Raise your left hand.” the grey man said mildly. “Bring it here.”

Romulus felt tears of frustration and fear spring to his eyes. He was stupid for thinking he had a chance at this. Julius’ tests were never designed for him to pass.

***

Roman wasn’t sure how many hours passed before the grey man seemed satisfied.

Fortunately, he had methods of persuasion beyond just the pipe. When Romans’ left palm had become completely coated in blisters the grey man had handed him walking stick and instructed him to bring it down hard on his own back instead. And then his shoulders. The side of his face. His left palm.

The grey man never touched him himself.

He didn’t have any need to.

Whenever there was a pause between punishments he ordered Roman to stillness. Time which Roman happily spent fantasising, first of smashing the stick down across the grey man’s head, then of pressing his own eyes to the hot pipe.

Even if they took him home – he could not allow himself to lay eyes on Remus. That was the one thing he could not fail on.

“Did you kill your father?” asked the grey man.

“Yes.”

The stress of raising Romulus, of hiding the curse; there was no doubt he’d contributed to his fathers early death. It was true, at least to him.

“Did you curse your brother?”

“Yes.”

When he was a little boy there had been a phase where he tried to put a curse on Remus daily, and Remus him. The kind of curses they dreamed up were for itchy feet and stinky farts, and none of them had worked, but it was still technically true.

“Why?”

“I was jealous of my brother.”

If Roman had only been born a half hour earlier he could have avoided a lifetime of being second best. He could have avoided his curse. Grown up with his Father instead of Julius. Not that he would wish any of that on Remus but. It was natural, surely, to be a little jealous of his brothers freedom.

“Good.”

Julius’ face smiled down at him. He reached out with the grey mans hands to stroke Romulus’ hair, like he sometimes did when he was a child. “You see Romulus, there is always a way to work within the confines of your curse, so long as you are willing to look for it. I taught you that.”

“Where are you?” Romulus whispered.

“I am waiting for you.” he smiled. “I have no sons Romulus, no one to pass the Stewardship to. And we must think about the future of our kingdom. When you are back, we can write a new story.”

“You…you’re ruler?”

Romulus frowned. There was a missing piece here but he couldn’t find it. The heat and pain were making his brain slosh against the inside of his skull. He found himself leaning in to the hand in his hair, even as revulsion rippled through him. “If you’re ruler then where’s –“

“Where’s the serpent?”

Roman blinked. Looking up, he found that Julius was gone again, the grey mans expressionless face staring back at him.

“What?”

“The serpent. Where is he?”

“I don’t – I don’t know what you mean.” Romulus held his injured arm close to his chest, curling over it protectively.

He heard the disappointed sigh and flinched even before the grey man brought his other hand to Romans’ bruised shoulder, squeezing hard.

“Look at me.”

Romulus did, eyes bright.

“I know he has left his prison. I know he was with you at that inn. I sent that stupid boy to get him and he found you.”

“I don’t know what you mean!” Romulus wailed, hating the childish wobble in his voice. “There wasn’t anyone else at the inn.”

“No?”

Julius eyes were peering out of the grey man again, a cruel glint to them. ”You were alone?”

“Yes.” Roman told him. Voice steady.

He’d entered the inn alone. He’d sat in the room alone. Climbed out of the window alone. Anything else was none of Julius’ business.

Before the grey man could speak again, a clatter from the next room made them both jump.

“Hmph. He’s early.” the grey man murmured. “Get back to your place.” He gestured to the pipe Roman had originally been tied to and, haltingly, Roman crawled towards it, sprawling at the base.

“If The Marquis asks, tell him nothing about your injuries.” the grey man added lazily, taking up his position in the centre of the room, fading back into the background.

Roman grunted. It wasn’t a bad plan: his most visible injuries – the burns on his hand which he couldn’t stand to look at – could be explained away as being caused by the very pipe Lucius had tied him to. As usual, nothing could ever be pinned on Julius.

They waited. But neither the Marquis or his men appeared.

The grey man stood across from him, gazing out into the darkness of the next room. Roman wasn’t even worth looking at.

He slumped further against the pipe and tried to focus on breathing. There wasn’t a single place on his body that didn’t hurt, though the worst by far was his hand. He shivered from cold, which, given the heat of the room, couldn’t be a good sign. He let his eyes slip closed. Exhaustion threatening to take him again.

And then he felt a soft pressure on his lap.

“Mrrp.”

Roman opened his eyes. Then he closed them again.

He opened one eye. It was still there.

“Mister Mittens?” he asked, slightly hysterically.

Romulus and Remus had grown up with dogs. He wasn’t sure if cats were supposed to be able to feel smugness, but this once clearly did. It butted it’s head against Roman’s chin with another self-satisfied “Mrrp.”

“What?“ The grey man was staring at the pair of them, looking as confused as his expressionless face could manage. “Where did that thing come from?”

Roman was saved from having to answer by a crossbow bolt. One that came through the open door, burying itself in the grey man’s skull.

Chapter 7

Extra warnings

Consent stuff – Roman relives a memory of being sexually assaulted (he doesn’t necessarily think of it in those terms). A drunk man kisses him and pushes him against a wall. The man tells Roman to ‘kiss me’ without knowing anything about Romans curse. They are interrupted before it goes beyond kissing. (whether anything else would have happened, or whether the man would have stopped if he had known about the curse, is not shown in the text). It is implied that this sort of situation has happened to Roman before, and that it has gone further, but this is not explicit.

Violence stuff – Roman is tortured in this chapter. This includes cutting, burning and beating with a stick. The majority of this is not described in explicit detail but it’s certainly going on. Due to the nature of his curse, most of this takes place due to another character ordering him to hurt himself. Roman briefly contemplates burning his own eyes (for ‘trying to get around my curse’ reasons rather than ‘self harm’ reasons) . Someone also gets shot in the head with a crossbow. Roman also spends most of this chapter dehydrated and suffering from heat stroke .

I’m not totally sure what this falls under but its grim stuff – a character from romans past spends a lot of this chapter tyring to gas light him/ manipulate him into believing a set of false memories. Roman retains his correct memories but gets hurt a lot in the process. Meeting said character causes Roman to dissociate (I think this is the correct term but please correct me if I’m wrong), he continuously switches between his name and his childhood name during the chapter and at some points reacts as if he was a child.

#ts roman #roman sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #creativitwins #sidespart writes

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years ago

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(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Osborn’s 5✩ Inspiration: Black VS Black [黑色对峙] Date Translation (Prologue)

“Cat food, cat toys; everything was all set and ready… except for a cat.”

*Light and Night Master-list | Osborn’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This 5✩ Inspiration has 6 Endings!! *Osborn’s tag will be #For Night, For Freedom *Requested by anon! You can check my on-going requests and more here!

It was only when I stood before Osborn's door that I realized the startling fact: this was the first time I'd ever been to his place.

A few days ago, Osborn's neighbour entrusted their cat to him because they were going to be gone on a business trip. And shortly after that had happened, I'd received Osborn's obligatory cat-lover "Invitation".

And thus, that was how I now found myself before his door, with the glee of having received his invitation swiftly being replaced by nerves.

I hesitated, pulling our previous chat back up on my phone to double-check the address.

It was then that the door opened with a click.

Osborn: Oh? Already here?

A familiar voice sounded, making me abruptly raise my head.

Osborn was leaning sideways against the door, staring at me with an impish glint in his eyes.

MC: I just got here and I was just gonna check if this was the right place.

Osborn: Check?

Osborn: My bad. Looks like I'm going to have to remember which door it is next time.

MC: No need, no need. I can tell which door's yours now!

Osborn: Then, come in?

I quickly nodded and followed him in.

❖☆———————————★❖

All Osborn had on was a simple black singlet and a pair of casual sweatpants.

I'd rarely seen him in such a casual state of dress, so I couldn't stop my lingering eyes as I drank the sight of him in.

Osborn: Want something to drink?

MC: Nope, no need!

Osborn paused for a while after hearing my reply, but he continued pouring the water into the glass.

When the glass was filled, he turned around and leaned closer to me with a mischievous smile.

Osborn: You seem nervous today.

I felt my face burn. I swallowed my saliva and attempted to still my racing heart.

MC: Only because this is my first time in your house, and everything feels so foreign...

I averted my gaze, purposefully trying to look relaxed and at ease as I surveyed his home.

The living room wasn’t overly decorated and it was painted in a simple, minimalistic, colour. It was overall simple and refreshing. That being said, there didn’t seem to be a trace of there being a cat here at all.

MC: Right. Where's the cat?

Osborn handed me the glass of water before lazily sweeping his gaze across the living room.

Osborn: Mitt? Mitt!

MC: Mitt? ...Is that its name?

Osborn: Yeah. Its owner calls it Mitchell, but that’s a bit of a mouthful, so I just call it Mitt. It seems to understand me when I do, anyway.

MC: That's… Well, okay then…

Osborn: It was still slinking around here earlier. Might have run off into a corner somewhere.

His gaze snapped back to me. He suddenly raised a brow, gesturing at the backpack I was carrying.

Osborn: Just what did you stuff into that bag of yours to make it so bulky?

Osborn: And you've been carrying it this entire while too. Isn't it heavy?

Upon his mentioning of the backpack, I then recalled with a start about the “business” I was here for today.

I quickly placed the backpack onto the sofa, taking out the many cat necessities I’d packed in, enthusiastically showing them all to him.

MC: Look! This is a cat food bowl that I especially picked out! It looks like the gigantic face of a cat. Isn’t it cute?

MC: I also bought two flavours of cat food since I didn’t know which one it’d like. I’ve got salmon flavour and chicken flavour here.

MC: Oh, and this! I thought it might like it!

I picked up the cat teaser wand and shook it, ringing the silver bell attached to it and releasing a crisp sound into the air.

Suddenly, a small black head poked out from the kitchen door. Its eyes were wide and round as it stared curiously at the wand in my hand.

MC: Look, Osborn! It came!

Osborn: Looks like it really does like this one.

Then, it averted its gaze from the wand, giving us both a glance.

However, it disappeared from our sight as quickly as lightning before we barely had the chance to blink twice.

MC: ...Eh? And you're gonna leave just like that?

I shook the cat teaser wand again, but it never once reappeared.

Osborn looked at the items laid out on the table, frowning slightly, his expression tinged with a faint hint of confusion.

He picked up a small cat post.

Osborn: And what's this supposed to be?

MC: It’s a small cat post! It can be used to satisfy a cat’s natural innate tendency to want to climb everything and anything they see.

MC: It can also prevent them from messing the house up from all the climbing up and down they’re inclined to do.

Osborn: Oh. This one's well-suited for it.

MC: Haha, is it that playful?

Osborn: Hmm. Well, the owner said that their house was always in constant chaos thanks to it. They also said that their cat would normally be a little more obedient when it is in a new environment.

Osborn hesitated for a moment as doubt and a bit of helplessness slipped into his voice.

Osborn: But maybe my place isn't exactly new to it. Obedient, huh… Don't really see that happening.

MC: That bad? Maybe it wouldn’t attempt to demolish the house with all it's jumping around with all these toys here now?

MC: I even prepared yarn balls and stuff!

Osborn: A new boss is in office, and this one seems terribly well prepared.

MC: Of course I am! As soon as I heard that you were going to be temporarily housing a cat, I immediately went to place some orders online.

Osborn: You were looking forward to it THAT much?

Osborn: Looks like I'm gonna have to have it over as a guest more often.

My face flushed a slight red as I shoved the cat food bowl into his arms.

MC: No slacking! We're setting these all up together!

Osborn froze for a bit before taking the cat's food bowl from me.

Osborn: No problemo. I'm at your service.

MC: Ahem. Then, where would it be better for us to place all of these?

Osborn looked at the area for a while before slightly raising his chin and gesturing in the direction of the kitchen.

Osborn: The kitchen's entrance, I guess. It's almost always hanging out there.

After determining how and where we were going to set the whole ensemble up, we immediately got down to work.

Osborn casually opened a bag of cat food, pouring it into the cat food bowl I was holding. Following that, I tore off the plastic wrapping that covered the scratching posts, putting the simple cat post together with Osborn.

Cat food, cat toys; everything was all set and ready… except for a cat.

I looked all over, but I saw neither hide nor hair of it.

I attempted to call it out by calling it by its name of “Mitt”. Osborn had also attempted to shake the cat teasing wand in an attempt to lure it out, but we didn’t see even so much as a whisker of it.

Osborn: It’s usually ready to jump at anything and everything, but now it’s shy?

MC: Looks like it went into hiding. How about we split up and look for it?

Osborn: Okay. I’ll take the rooms on the north and you can take those on the south.

MC: Okay!

I searched for a good long while, but it wasn’t in either the kitchen or the study.

I was just about to go over to Osborn to ask about how his search was going when I suddenly noticed a small room right next to the study.

The door was also cracked slightly open.

MC: Huh. Did it go inside here?

❖☆———————————★❖

I gently pushed the door open and walked in. I was instantly greeted by display shelves that spanned the entire wall the moment I walked in.

Inside the many display shelves were racing trophies of all shapes and sizes. There were also photos of Osborn and his teammates, along with several race car models that were modelled after their real-life counterparts.

MC: Is this Osborn's collection room?

I couldn’t help but stop short. I suddenly caught sight of a black shadow seated atop a shelf.

MC: ...Mitt!

It was just about to get a paw on a red and white racing car model inside the shelf.

Probably having noticed the movement on my end, it tilted its head to look at me, its paw suspended in mid-air.

MC: What… What is it trying to do? Don't tell me...

I gasped in surprise, subconsciously holding my breath in nervousness.

We’d interlocked gazes for only a second before its ever-vigilant amber eyes flashed.

It lightly and resolutely batted its paw at the model it’d set its eyes on immediately after.

MC: AH!!

I subconsciously lunged at it, but all I caught was thin air.

The car model fell to the ground with a clatter, shattering into its many compartments with its wheels spinning in the air from the impact.

Upon seeing the result of its actions, Mitt quickly fled from the scene of the “crime” with a satisfied little meow.

MC: Wait!

I didn’t manage to stop it in time at all. It all happened in a split second, and now I was the only one left in the room with the overturned car model.

What am I to do now?

The cat caused an incident! What should I do?

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 +3 + 4 | Choice: Call Out [呼唤] ⊹Speak⊹

END 5 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Freedom⊹ —————★❖

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #For Night For Freedom #黑色对峙 #Black VS Black

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pillow-anime-talk · 4 years ago

Text

older girlfriend. {pt.1}

synopsis: You as older Karasuno’s boys girlfriend.

# tags: headcanons; current relationships; older!y/n; romance; lil bit of comedy; fluff; some kisses and hugs; sometimes reader is smol or has a babyface and because of this she doesn’t seems to be on 3rd year or studies; sfw

includes: female reader ft. daichi sawamura, koushi sugawara, asahi azumane, yuu nishinoya, ryuunosuke tanaka & chikara ennoshita {hq!!}

part two {click}

— DAICHI

↘ You looked at Google Maps again on your phone and then entered Karasuno High School, looking around carefully.

↘ You literally never were here, so you felt lost, but you decided to go into the school and ask someone for directions to the gym if it will be necessary.

↘ Thank God, you noticed three first years who were just leaving the big building. You greeted them and asked where you should go to meet the Karasuno volleyball team. You even corrected your hair, smiling sweetly.

↘ Needless to say, one of the boys got a nosebleed when he saw you and the other two blushed, pointing only to the direction of the side exit. After moving away from the three high school teenagers, you only managed to hear the quiet ‘Wasn’t she a student or something?’, but you didn’t have time to react to that apt remark.

↘ You finally got to the large gym, so you decided to go inside. You noticed that the team was in training, so the black-haired girl noticed you as first. She was a bit taller than you, but she also looked super lovely, so you smiled at her and greeted her, asking if you could wait for Daichi. The team manager nodded at you, blushing furiously as she realized you were a bit older than she was. (Kiyoko immediately recognized the school coat of arms on your jacket from the Women’s College she wanted to go too.)

↘ “OOOOH. WELCOME, WELCOME.” A low voice echoed in the gymnasium and you glanced at the boy with a shaved head who was running towards you with another a bit small teen. “ARE YOU A KIYOKO-SAN’S FRIEND?!”

↘ You didn’t know what was going on right now, so you said ‘No’ and immediately started looking for your boyfriend. Thank God, Daichi was already walking towards you, blushing as much as Kiyoko before.

↘ “Y/N? What are you doing here?” He smiled, scratching his neck and you shrugged.

↘ “I wanted to see your training. Surprise? I think.” You laughed softly as you walked over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “After your training we can go get some food, my treat, Captain.”

↘ The rest of the team was shocked because a) Daichi had a girlfriend; b) An older girl; c) Super cute and tiny girlfriend who dominated him in two freaking seconds.

— KOUSHI

↘ Only the third years knew about Suga’s relationship with you, so the rest of the team didn’t know who you are when you approached to them during the Spring High National Tournament, asking they were are Karasuno High School team.

↘ Tanaka and Nishinoya had a nosebleed and fell in love with you at first sight, and the first years didn't know what to say. You literally couldn't get along with them. You were lost and you missed your lovely babyboy.

↘ “Umm, so... I guess I mistook the High Schools, I’m sorry.” You muttered awkwardly and was about to leave when the libero denied it and stopped you.

↘ “You’re not wrong, angel. How can we help you?” You laughed under your breath at his words, nodding.

↘ “So, thanks. I’m looking for Koushi. He’s on this team, right?”

↘ “Are you his little sister? Aww, you can call me Ryuu-senpai. I’ll be glad.” You literally saw little hearts flying above his head.

↘ “No. Not really.” You replied amused and suddenly felt a gentle tapping on your shoulder. You turned, look up and instantaneously smiled when you saw your two years younger boyfriend. You hug him tightly. “Koushi, baby.”

↘ “You didn’t have to come. After all, you have a lot of exams at the university.” He muttered, though his voice was so happy and he was so relieved that you are here with him.

↘ “U-university...” Tanaka began, feeling his cheeks turn redder and redder.

↘ “Hey, guys. She’s my girlfriend. Be nice to her! And show her some respect! She’s in the second year of studies.”

↘ The whole team (except for the whole third year) was impressed.

↘ On the other hand, you hugged the gray-haired boy even closely and informed him that he had to come to your house after the game because you wanted pizza and some kisses.

— ASAHI

↘ You’ve just escorted your boyfriend to his high school and you were going to say goodbye to him.

↘ Of course, you couldn’t leave him with the usual ‘bye-bye’, on the contrary. You gave him a full, literally public make-out session right outside the school gate. Your red-wine lipstick made a little mess on the tall volleyball player’s lips. Nothing new.

↘ “... I-I didn’t know that Azumane-san has a girlfriend.” Kageyama said softly and blushed hard, looking at orange-haired friend who looked at you closely.

↘ “She attend to our school? Hmm...” Hinata asked under his breath, but the lack of a Karasuno High School uniform was misleading. “I don’t think so...”

↘ “I didn’t think that senpai liked first years.” Tsukishima laughed as he walked past the two shorter boys with Yamaguchi. “It’s almost illegal, don’t y’all think? I don’t want to believe that any girl has likes someone who looks like a criminal.”

↘ “Hey, kids.” Daichi’s voice made the four juniors turn to him and Sugawara. “Y/N-san is older than all of us and actually is in her first year of college. You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.” He smiled heartily as he patted them on the back. “Now go to school and better prepare yourself for a solid warm-up after your lessons thanks to this gossips.”

↘ “What? Captain, no!”

↘ At the same time, you informed your boyfriend that you would come to his training because your classes at the university that day were supposed to end sooner. (What an awkward situation for firsts years who apologized to you on knees for things who you literally don’t mind...)

— YUU

↘ It’s been a while since it became known that Nishinoya’s dating a girl. Of course, it was a shock to the whole Karasuno team, because no one suspected that... Noya would ever... have... a partner...

↘ Anyway, yes. You’ve been with the boy for three months now, and the age difference between the two of you wasn’t a problem for you or him. Yuu thought that it’s was super hot and sexy, by the way. He also liked the fact that you are older than him and you can help him with his studies sometimes.

↘ But he loved even more the fact that you were three centimeters shorter than him anyway and your face was so sweet that he wanted to kiss you 24 hours per day. Through your babyface, the rest of the second years who first met you thought you were younger than all of them. What a surprise, you’re not.

↘ As I mentioned, you often helped Noya in math, contemporary literature and physic, especially when the sports competitions coincided with the exams. You wanted to prepare your boyfriend as much as possible so that he could continue playing with the team and be the best libero for them.

↘ Additionally, Yuu had the luxury of bringing him food or snacks often, and taking him to the roof to talk and cuddle with you.

↘ The boy literally lives his best life thanks to you.

— RYUUNOSUKE

↘ Literally your biggest and the most crazy fan.

↘ You thought he was a fanboy for Kiyoko? Girl... He could create a new religion for you, and I’m not kidding at this point.

↘ He didn’t have to hide you for a long time, because you two barely started dating, and he already told the whole team that he was date with a third year who makes the best bentos in whole school and who has the most beautiful smile in the world. #SIMP.

↘ Tanaka is by far the most protective boy you’ve ever met. The seventeen-year-old just feels the need to protect you all the time because he’s afraid of some third years will take you away from him. Spoiler: you’re not going anywhere.

↘ He loves to hold your hands and you always have to give him a ‘good luck kiss’ before training or a match.

↘ First years and Noya literally hate you two and are jealous like no one else.

↘ Nevertheless, Ryuunosuke isn’t going to calm down and he’s bragging about your photos and what you did on dates with him (leaving the spicy details to himself, of course).

— CHIKARA

↘ Your relationship with Ennoshita was very relaxed and full of love and support, especially when his tournament or your own college exams were coming.

↘ As a girl two years older, you often felt the need to spoil him and buy him various things; books, clothes, ties, new volleyball balls... Literally everything you associated with Chikara was bought and given to the boy shortly after.

↘ I don’t think I need to mention that you came to his every match, as long as it didn't interfere with your studies.

↘ The entire Karasuno team knew who you are and they literally called you the team mascot because of your pocket size, cute face and banners that you held on every game for your boyfriend.

↘ You’re a very hyped person who also feels like a seventeen-year-old’s biggest fangirl.

↘ Chikara is so beaming and thanks to you he smiles much more than normal.

↘ Anyway, brunet likes the fact that he has an older girlfriend who always attracts attention and is self-sufficient. On top of that, his biggest weak point is that he sees you in a jacket and high-heeled shoes.

#— 🍁#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #daichi sawamura headcanons #daichi sawamura x reader #sugawara koshi headcanons #sugawara koshi x reader #azumane asahi headcanons #azumane asahi x reader #tanaka ryuunosuke headcanons #tanaka ryuunosuke x reader #nishinoya yu headcanons #nishinoya yu x reader #ennoshita chikara headcanons #ennoshita chikara x reader

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rovelae · 3 years ago

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Behind the Scenes of “Hologram”

Today marks exactly one year since I posted arguably my most popular fic. “Hologram” is a postgame Saiouma one-shot about escapism, loneliness, and running away from the past. I put a lot of myself into this fic and I’m blown away by all the love it’s received, not only on AO3 but in Discord servers and other social media. All that excitement made me keep thinking about it, so I thought I’d share a (very self-indulgent) behind-the-scenes of sorts about how I wrote it, as well as what I think of the story.

This essay will contain spoilers for the whole fic, so if you’d like to read it first, you can find it here. Of course, if the tags scare you off, that’s valid, but you might want to skip this post too since I’ll be quoting it throughout (so, just to be safe, expect the warnings I’ve posted on AO3 to apply here too).

If you’re a Lorde fan you’ll recognize the lyrics in the fic summary – “Nothing’s wrong when nothing’s true,” from “Buzzcut Season.” The inspiration for this fic came to me while I was on my way to an early shift at work, and I needed a good song in my head to give me the will to live for the next eight hours. Not sure why I chose that song in particular, but maybe part of it is because I like imagining stories to go along with the songs I listen to, like AMVs playing in my head, and I’d never been able to pin down exactly what this song reminded me of.

The mood of the music is really what compelled me – there’s something lonely about it, and the lyrics sound like the singer’s trying to convince herself that everything’s okay even when all evidence points otherwise. There are “explosions on TV”, and “The men up on the news / They try to tell us all that we will lose,” but “we live beside the pool / Where everything is good.” Despite everything going wrong, despite the notes of fear creeping into the pre-chorus, the character will “play along… in a hologram with you” and “never go home again.”

From there, it was an easy jump to “postgame Saiou” and that was that.

There’s a cloud of seagulls hovering in the air around him, and a dozen or so more standing just out of reach, staring him down with beady black eyes. Kokichi takes a slice of bread from the loaf he’s holding and tosses it to one of the birds, watches it catch it and stumble under the weight, watches its head bob as it tries to swallow the whole thing at once. It gets remarkably far before four other birds descend on it, shrieking wildly.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he mumbles into his folded arms, wondering if Shuichi would get the reference.

He really wishes Shuichi was here.

Kokichi upends the rest of the loaf of bread onto the sidewalk and laughs at the resulting chaos until his chest aches.

To start off, I wanted to create the same lonely mood from “Buzzcut Season” in Kokichi’s simulation. He’s not exactly trapped there, but he’s refusing to leave, because as long as he’s on the fake Jabberwock Island, he can pretend the killing game never happened. The trade-off to that escapism is that the only people he can talk to are the NPCs, who aren’t complex enough to be remotely interesting to him, and Usami, who… well, tries her best, but is more of an informational / moderation program and can’t offer him what a therapist could.

The only thing Kokichi has to look forward to is Shuichi, who he’s convinced is an extremely lifelike computer program rather than the real thing, because the real Shuichi would definitely hate him for everything that happened during the killing game. He’s so locked into this line of logic that he doesn’t let himself consider that Shuichi has forgiven him – he doesn’t even have a good answer for why the Future Foundation wouldn’t just keep the supposed Shuichi AI on indefinitely, believing it’s their way of baiting him into leaving the simulation.

It’s not a healthy or sustainable lifestyle in the slightest, but Kokichi stubbornly refuses to do anything but wander the islands aimlessly, passing the time with ice cream and feeding seagulls until the next time he can see Shuichi.

He dreams that DICE is here in the simulation with him, smiling and carefree as they explore the weird music venue. One of them has gotten the karaoke machine working, and another found a box of kazoos and maracas in the back room. Kokichi already pities anyone unfortunate enough to walk by the building tonight.

“Not going to sing, Joker?” one of his DICE asks (over the sound of their youngest member shrieking through seven kazoos at once), sitting on the bench next to him.

“Some games are more fun to watch than play,” he answers, leaning back on his hands and sighing.

“Like a killing game.”

The warm dream-atmosphere turns cold then, and Kokichi’s head snaps over to look at him—but his brother is gone and Kaito’s looking back at him instead, blood in his teeth and face ashen pale.

“You... we don’t have to do this, man,” Kaito says, but it’s a lie and they both know it, and he doesn’t want to look behind him because he knows the machine’s looming over him with its unyielding steel and slow slow slow descent—

“You’re not real,” he snaps at dream-Kaito, who doesn’t respond except to lift him up again. “Nothing’s real, none of—PUT ME DOWN! LET GO OF ME! DON’T PUT ME BACK IN THERE!”

“Death is more mercy than you deserve,” Kaito says, and Kokichi claws and bites and kicks his way out of Kaito’s grasp like a wild animal, only to end up in front of a prison cell full of—

DICE, his beloved DICE, trapped and hurt and afraid, bloodied and beaten and helpless.

“Why didn’t you save us, boss?” says his second-in-command, clutching the bars with bleeding hands. “Why didn’t you do more? Now we’re all dead and it’s because of you.”

Moments like this are my reference to Buzzcut Season’s pre-chorus, where the not-okay starts to creep into the illusion. Despite Kokichi’s valiant efforts to forget, he’s still dealing with the aftermath of seeing his family hurt and in danger, watching his friends die, orchestrating the deaths of two of them, being killed himself— and then being told every bit of it was made up to entertain an audience who sees nothing wrong with that picture. Running away is not the way to heal from trauma, and one day soon it’s all bound to come crashing down around him.

“Do you know what this … island paradise represents, Kokichi?” [Hinata] asks, and Kokichi’s really not in the mood for a lecture but he continues anyway. “Jabberwock Island … was the setting for the fiftieth season of Danganronpa. The golden anniversary, they called it. It was my season.”

Kokichi hunches over, hugging his arms over his torso and stifiling a scream. He does not want to think about this right now—

“They wanted it to be the best season of all, which, unfortunately for us, meant it was also the bloodiest,” Hinata says. “Twice as many participants, deadly traps hidden across each of the islands— they even changed the way the motives worked, like when they told Fuyuhiko to cut out his own eye so Peko could have a quick death instead of suffering for days.”

“Do I look like your therapist, porcupine-head?” Kokichi hisses. A sharp pain is pounding into his skull, and there’s a bitter, metallic taste at the back of his throat. A taste like poison and blood.

“There was so much going on that the simulation malfunctioned,” Hinata says. “When people died, their Ultimate talents downloaded themselves into me. I’m told that the stress of so many personality grafts came close to liquefying my frontal lobe. I’m lucky I woke up at all… especially considering more than half of the others didn’t.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Kokichi grates out through the static building in his head. If he opens his eyes, will he see the beach or the dull chrome of the machine closing in on him?

“Because I know how much you want to forget about what happened,” Hinata says. “Believe me, I get it.”

….

“These things that happened to us… we can’t erase them, no matter how much we want to. Some things have to be remembered.”

I’d mostly like to leave Hajime’s season up to interpretation, but there are a couple things I wanted to say about it. I imagine Danganronpa is like the Hunger Games in that it’d go all out for big anniversaries. So, there were twice as many participants for the Jabberwock Island beatdown that was probably subtitled “Bloodbath Bay” or something equally appealing. The game’s formula changed from a focus on the mystery and the trials to “look at all these kids massacring each other a la Lord of the Flies,” and since the VR system wasn’t equipped to handle that many people and their deaths, it malfunctioned, giving Hajime way too many Ultimate talents and putting half the cast into comas from which they never woke up.

Viewers either absolutely loved or absolutely hated this season, depending on whether they were DR fans because of the “blood n’ guts” factor or the “mystery and psychological thriller” aspect. Team Danganronpa faced quite a bit of backlash for actually causing the real-life deaths of half its participants, but were able to weasel their way out of serious legal repercussions because of the waivers the participants had signed beforehand (plus a lot of bribery and falling back on their longstanding popularity). So, the cast of Season 50 failed to end the killing game, but helped provide great evidence for the “Danganronpa is morally wrong” argument.

Hajime works as a victim liaison for the Future Foundation and has been trying to take down Danganronpa since he got out of it. He’s like that in a few of my fics, actually; I like the idea of Hajime acting as a big brother of sorts to the V3 cast. It’s especially entertaining to imagine his interactions with Kokichi— though maybe not so much in Hologram, since to Kokichi he’s a representation of the past he’s trying so desperately to forget and the future he refuses to acknowledge.

“SHUT UP!” He launches himself at Hinata, his hands wrapping around the other man’s throat as he uses his momentum to slam him to the ground. “SHUT! UP!”

“Ko— ghk—” Hinata coughs, eyes wide with surprise, but aside from moving his hands up to grip Kokichi’s wrists, he doesn’t seem all that worried about fighting back.

The thought only fuels Kokichi’s rage until he’s choking Hinata so hard his knuckles are white. “If you want me out of this simulation so badly, you can kill me,” he snarls. “I’m never waking up! I’m never leaving, do you UNDERSTAND ME?”

Hinata grimaces, the outline of his avatar flickering, but he still doesn’t struggle, and Kokichi hates him all the more for it, despises him with a seething malice that festers low in his stomach. He wonders distantly if he’d actually kill this man in real life. Or if he’d be able to stop himself, feeling like this.

Kokichi’s breakdown here is more out of fear than anger. Like I mentioned, Kokichi sees Hajime as another piece of what’s hurt him, and no matter how Hajime tries to help, Kokichi will always remember Danganronpa whenever he sees him.

Warm yellow-orange light casts a relaxed, cozy glow over the dining hall. It’s an ambience compounded by the flickering candles on the table, which seems overly idyllic, but Kokichi will let it slide because of the adorable way Shuichi flushed when he noticed them as they sat down. Well, if he’s being honest, everything about Shuichi right now is adorable, from the way his hair keeps falling into his eyes to the way he’s nervously fiddling wth his chopsticks. Kokichi wishes he could keep staring at him forever.

Ah, not… not in a weird way, though, just… because Shuichi’s beautiful, and when Kokichi looks at him he can forget everything bad that’s ever happened, can create some new and brighter world to exist in.

This is an idea I wish I’d had room to explore a bit more in the story— that is, just how far Kokichi will go to pretend everything’s fine. I thought about making him border on delusional, like having him talk to people who aren’t there or forget what’s actually happening around him because he’s so lost in his fiction-within-a-fiction. It would have creeped Shuichi out a whole lot.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much room for that past the plot I’d already nailed down, so I focused on his loneliness and escapism instead. I do touch on it later in this scene, though— the couple paragraphs where he slips into fantasizing about being a phantom thief having a surreptitious meeting with his detective under the not-so-subtle supervision of his DICE. There would have been a lot more of that if I’d gone with the ‘delusion’ stylistic choice, to the point where even the readers would be confused about what’s real. Maybe I’ll look into writing something similar in a future story.

Eventually, Shuichi sets down his bowl and looks away with a little sigh, and Kokichi clenches his teeth because that’s the sigh he does when it’s time for that conversation.

“Um… Kokichi?”

Kokichi’s only response is to exhale the breath he’d been holding in a quiet hiss.

“I-I know you don’t want to, but… but I really need to talk to you about something,” Shuichi says. “Please?”

“My Mr. Detective can talk about whatever he’d like!” Kokichi says with a lilt to his tone that makes it sound more sarcastic than he wants it to. He takes the last bite of curry and wishes that it burns hot enough to hurt.

“It’s about Kaito.”

This more serious part of the date scene is meant to reflect the little bridge in “Buzzcut Season”:

“Cola with the burnt-out taste

I’m the one you tell your fears to

There’ll never be enough of us.”

It’s a part of the song that sounds especially bittersweet to me, a bit of self-awareness between the insistence that everything’s okay.

Really all I think I managed was to reference it when Kokichi’s internal dialogue comments on his drink being “so sweet it tastes burnt” and then later not tasting like anything. But hopefully the mood’s still there.

“Tell him… that I have nothing against him,” he says.

“That’s … not a lie?” Shuichi presses.

Kokichi shakes his head idly, still not raising his gaze. “I wanted to wreck the killing game and he wanted to save his friend. We both got what we wanted. I’d say the end more than justifies the means.”

Was that a lie?

(I don’t want to die Shuichi I’m sorry I’m sorry save me Shuichi please I’m sorry ithurtsmakeitstop—)

His fingers tighten into clawlike shapes, nails digging sharply into his forearms.

I really don’t think Kokichi would have anything against Kaito, even if here he’s not being completely honest with how much he’s affected by what happened. It wouldn’t make sense to him to hate Kaito for something he himself proposed, but I think there’d still be a subconscious barrier between them. Too much history.

“Don’t go, Shuichi, I’m so sorry, I— that was so dumb, what I said, please don’t be sad anymore.” He’s not sure if he can’t breathe because of the exertion of running or because of the hysteria boiling over in his head. “Please don’t go, I didn’t mean to hurt you— please don’t leave, Shuichi, I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, Kokichi….” Shuichi’s tone is strange, soft and pitying, like he sees something Kokichi doesn’t, and he shakes his head slowly as more tears follow the paths of the others.

Kokichi goes to his knees, ready to grovel if that’s what it takes, but Shuichi follows him down, closing his other hand over Kokichi’s, and then they’re both crying and he doesn’t know why, and all he can do is repeat a mantra of I’m sorry and hold on as tight as he can.

It’s horrible. Shuichi’s horrible. Shuichi’s wonderful, and kind and lovely and perfect and Kokichi hates him, Kokichi adores him, and it doesn’t matter because Shuichi’s not actually here but Kokichi doesn’t want to be alone, just let me pretend some more, please, please let me have this—

“I’ll… I’ll stay,” Shuichi says at last. “I can stay a while longer.”

You shouldn’t, Kokichi wants to say, but his mouth won’t obey him. You shouldn’t stay if you don’t want to. I don’t deserve having you here. I’m not worth your mercy.

But there on the bridge, crying tears of relief, he soaks up as much mercy as he can get and hopes it’s enough to drown him.

I wanted to create a contrast between them that highlights just how the isolation and trauma Kokichi’s experiencing has affected him. He has an almost unhealthy reliance on Shuichi as “the only thing that makes this world bearable,” and panics when faced with the prospect of being alone again so soon. Part of why Shuichi’s crying is because he’s realized the extent of Kokichi’s desperation. It’s not that he thinks Kokichi’s apology is insincere, but that he’s hardly heard him apologize for anything before, so Kokichi going this far has him realizing how bad things really are.

The door rumbles and slides open when they approach, revealing the bright light of the log-out point that took Shuichi away every time, that would wake Kokichi up in his real body if he walked into it. Shuichi stops just a step away from it, biting his lip as if searching for something to say, but before he can find it, Kokichi reaches out to tug at his sleeve.

“Shuichi?” he says, distant as the waves on the beach that he can still hear if he listens closely enough. Shuichi turns back toward him. “Before you go, can I be selfish one more time?”

“Huh…?”

Shuichi doesn’t move when Kokichi steps closer, reaches up to ghost his fingertips over Shuichi’s jaw and around the back of his neck. He lets Kokichi tilt his head downward, lets him hover inches away, close enough to feel their breath mingle in the night air. Kokichi pauses there to give him the chance to pull away. He doesn’t.

So Kokichi closes his eyes and the distance between them.

That last line is a ZEUGMA! It’s a literary device where one word refers to two more in a different way. A popular example is the hyenas’ line “Our teeth and ambitions are bared” from The Lion King. It’s my favorite grammatical trick and I’d love to see more of it in fanfic.

Slowly, he slides his hand down to Shuichi’s shoulder, using it as leverage to push himself away. That hurts even more. He can’t seem to open his eyes, and he feels so weakened, breathless, fragile. Cracked open, hollowed out.

When he finally does open his eyes, Shuichi’s are wide with some mix of astonishment and a dozen other emotions. Kokichi bows his head, taking a deep breath to ground himself. “Sorry,” he whispers. “I just wanted to know.”

“Kokichi,” Shuichi breathes, like a bullet through his heart.

“Goodbye, Shuichi,” Kokichi says, and shoves him into the light.

Shuichi’s little yelp of surprise cuts off abruptly as he falls through the door, vanishing into the glow, and all too soon, Kokichi’s alone again in a dream that suddenly seems far too vast. Alone, with the faintest taste of Shuichi’s lips still lingering on his own.

And he thinks, It was enough just to know you.

It’s a lie.

Nothing to say here except that this is my favorite scene and I’m so happy with how it turned out.

Fake sun rises over fake ocean, fake seagulls glide through fake sky while fake wind tousles fake palm fronds. Kokichi lies on his stomach in the fake grass and talks to his fake family in the fake notebook. Gives them fake names and runs through everything he remembers about them. Apologizes, over and over, wishes he could hug each of them goodbye one last time. Wonders if it would be more painful to die or to never have existed at all.

He leaves the notebook of his memories on the seat of one of the Ferris wheel cars on the fourth island, because one time he promised them they’d steal the London Eye together.

He buys a can of fake soda from the fake convenience store on the first island and sits on the fake beach watching the fake waves. Wonders when he’d hit the end of the simulation if he started swimming, or if he’d drown first.

White sand, blue sea, bluer sky. Washed out, like an amateur watercolor painting.

He opens the soda can and raises it to his mouth, but … even the thought of drinking it makes him sick to his stomach. He sets it down in the sand and flicks it over, watching the bubbly liquid run down and sink into the sand. The color’s all wrong, like blood streaked against a metal floor.

He walks the fake streets of the fifth island, passing fake skyscrapers and fake commuters and their fake conversations, until he finally stops outside the factory he’s never been able to bring himself to go into. Smells like oil, and metal and machines and he can hear the sounds and he’s immediately back in the hangar, dizzy on adrenaline and desperation and leaning heavily on Kaito so he doesn’t keel over and die then and there. Kaito says something about how maybe he should sit down for a minute, and Kokichi didn’t agree back then but he does now, goes down on all fours and dry heaves.

When his vision solidifies and he can stop gasping for breath, he sits up and presses his back against the factory wall, covering his ears and hiding his face in his knees. Tries to convince himself not to imagine Shuichi’s there with him, holding his hand again, promising everything’s going to be okay.

“I’ve got you. No one’s going to hurt you anymore,” or maybe, “Breathe with me, it’ll be over soon. You’re safe now.”

I love you.

He laughs until there’s nothing left in his lungs. He called these little daydreams obsession, before, but now they just seem sick and insane.

I wanted to indicate throughout this scene that Kokichi’s gotten substantially worse. Instead of halfheartedly interacting with the NPCs or finding something to spend time doing, he’s aimlessly wandering the islands, focused on how fake all of it is. Not even talking to his sketches of DICE can make him feel better. The suicidal ideation starts to slip in even if he doesn’t realize it— a fixation on wondering what death is like, purposefully triggering himself by walking by the factory….

The thing I want to talk about most though is the italicized I love you. I left it outside of quotation marks and dialogue tags on purpose because I wanted it to be ambiguous as to who’s saying it. If it’s Kokichi’s line, it’s sudden and almost out of place, like he couldn’t hold back from thinking it anymore. But it could be Shuichi saying it, too. Since it’s outside quotation marks, unlike the previous dream-Shuichi lines, it’s more vague, almost a whisper in Kokichi’s thoughts— like he can barely bring himself to imagine it and even feels guilty doing so, because there’s no way it could possibly be real.

Which do you think?

Eh, I don’t have an answer. When I hear it in my head, they say it at the same time.

“How did you know?” he finally croaks.

Shuichi’s breathing still sounds shaky, too. “Because you said ‘goodbye,’” he says.

Kokichi finally looks up at him in a silent question.

“You never say goodbye,” Shuichi says, rubbing his sleeve over his eyes. “It’s always….”

“‘See you later,’” Kokichi finishes for him. Despite himself, a tiny huff of astonished laughter escapes him. “I didn’t even know, not until a couple of hours ago. And you figured it all out from one word?”

Shuichi bites his lip at that. “You kissed me,” he says.

Kokichi’s stomach twists and he looks away. “I said I was sorry—”

“No.” Shuichi squeezes his hand into a fist and lets it fall to thump against Kokichi’s chest, like he’s trying to knock some sense into him. “It was so honest, and vulnerable, and… and I know how much you hate showing how you really feel.” Another tiny sob catches in his throat. “And so it felt like … like something you’d do if you weren’t going to s-see me again.”

“Shuichi….” Kokichi trails off as Shuichi muffles his cries in his hand again. He’s so breathtakingly smart. There’s no one else in the world who thinks that way, no one else who could possibly be that attentive and that clever. Not a programmer, not a team of shrinks… how can an AI manage it? How is it that Shuichi always manages to take him by surprise? How can he see straight through him when he least expects it?

Kokichi’s hand reaches up to Shuichi’s cheek. Reverently traces the path of the tears falling down it.

“I wish you were real,” he confesses in a whisper.

Kokichi’s stubborn. So, so stubborn. And he’s not used to being cared about, if the way he does everything by himself is any indication. So it makes sense to me that he’ll refuse to believe anything good can happen to him even in the face of convincing evidence. He’s pretty self-hating for someone so arrogant.

Kokichi’s weak, deep down to his core, weak for this man. Already knows he’d do anything for him, and the thought is terrifying—that one person could have that much power over him, even if he doesn’t realize it.

But what if he has realized it? Couldn’t this all be an elaborate ruse, a lie he knew Kokichi would be so desperate to believe that he wouldn’t bother questioning it?

…Shuichi’s never hurt him, though. Only that one time, when he really deserved it. Shuichi wouldn’t … betray him, even for what he thinks is Kokichi’s own good. They’re… different from each other, that way.

But still….

“I’m so scared, Shuichi.” It’s barely a whisper. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“You won’t be.” It’s so hard to be skeptical, lost in his eyes. “I’ll be right there with you, for as long as you want. I won’t let you feel like this anymore.”

Promise me, he wants to blurt out. Promise you’ll stay. Promise me you’ll never leave me, Shuichi, he wants to demand, but that’s wrong, that’s manipulative and selfish and everything he doesn’t want to be for Shuichi anymore.

Shuichi, of course, says it anyway.

“I promise, Kokichi.”

…

“Kiss me again,” he says. “Please?”

Shuichi leans in close, then pauses, his brow furrowing the way it does when he catches him in a lie.

“I’ll kiss you again in the real world,” Shuichi says. “Okay?”

Kokichi shakes his head. “Shuichi, please.” Please, I don’t think I can do this. Please, I don’t want to wake up to a lie. Please, one last kiss for me to remember in case it was all fake.

Shuichi reaches out to tilt his chin up and Kokichi closes his eyes, savoring every second, burning it into his memory.

Shuichi’s soft breath ghosts over his lips.

“Trust me,” he murmurs.

Kokichi’s eyes flutter back open, searching his face. Shifting him around on the white board in his head, seeing what categories he fits into this time. Weird, of course. Suspicious, maybe not. Trustworthy?

Trustworthy….

“I do trust you,” he realizes.

Kokichi’s still hesitant to accept all of this— Shuichi kissing him didn’t magically fix everything. He’ll still doubt all the way to the log-out point, but at least now he realizes that this simulation is only hurting him— that if things are to get better they’re going to have to change, too. He’s got a long way to go before he’s all right, but he’s not going to have to face it alone anymore.

And that’s a wrap!

Once again, I’m really proud of this story, and I feel like I grew as a writer because of it. There are a few things I would change if I wrote it again, but for all its flaws it’s still my baby and I like how it turned out.

Thanks again for all your support for “Hologram,” and thanks even more if you actually waded through all this nonsense of a director’s cut. It’s a huge confidence-boost to think that people liked what I wrote, and even wanted to hear what I had to say about it. If there’s any interest, I’d love to review some of my other fics here, or theorize or brainstorm or whatever else you’re into. (Ask me what Byakuya’s Thing is in my superhero AU, I dare you 😉)

I do have a WIP in my folder of bits and pieces currently titled “boy finally gets that kiss”, and it’s a post-Hologram scene from Shuichi’s point of view to just sorta… tie it all together, have them talk things over again… and kiss, of course. We’ll see if anything comes out of that.

Until next time!

#Rov talks #Hologram #Saiouma #Oumasai #Behind the scenes #Director's cut #Fanfic review

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