#I don’t think I’ll ever have a proper grasp on it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sukirichi · 9 months ago

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[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 012 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. 18+.modern royal au. infidelity. minimal angst. reader is confused with her feelings. toxic characters. toxic relationships. explicit smut. unedited. implied dub-con. smoking. physical violence. sex tapes. reader has a gun and almost uses it.

notes. i wanted the kiyoomi and suna girlies (/gn) to win so here it is! feedbacks / reblogs/ comments are appreciated <3

wc. 12.9k

series masterlist

[ TWELVE ] for you, i would cross the line. i would waste my time, i would lose my mind. they say “she’s gone too far this time.”

You prided yourself in being logical.

There was little to no room for measly emotions when it came to royal affairs. Granted, you had no proper training, but you were raised as a noble, and the rules were clear. Set aside your emotions, always look towards the most plausible solution, and cry about it later – where no one could see. Those were your mother’s words. You held onto them for as long as you remembered, with the exception of making only one grand mistake: proceeding with the marriage after catching your fiancé cheating on you.

But now? Now, you were about to make your next worst decision – letting Kiyoomi walk away.

It wasn’t love, of course. It couldn’t be. The odds simply weren’t in your favor, but couldn’t a Princess hope? You met him first, had him as your last dance on your debut ball. He was the first Prince who ever held your hand, the first Prince to dance with you, and the first – possibly last – who reminded what love could feel like. What love should feel like. It was explosive and angry like fire licking up at your skin, begging, pleading at you to chase after him. Every nerve in your body protested as you watched him take one more step away from you. It’s a mistake, one I’ll regret – Don’t let him go. It screamed at you, its cries desperate to be heard. You didn’t want to be here in the Palace. You didn’t want to return to your shared quarters with Rintaro.

You wanted to go back to Itachiyama – his farmhouse, the castle ruins, riding aimlessly with Astra and Lucy, picking fruits from his garden, and spending hours in his library. You hadn’t even held your end of the promise yet to learn everything about him.

What did Kiyoomi love? What did he look like in his slumber? Does he talk in sleep? Does he steal the blankets? What about his favorite song?

You moved before you could think.

Closing the distance in hurried strides, you grasped the Prince’s elbow. He stiffened under your touch, his eyes unreadable through the dimly-lit hallways. “Your Highness. Wait,” you panted, “Listen… back at Itachiyama–”

“Do you want me?”

Your grip on him faltered. Briefly, you took a step back, but the Prince was having none of it. He easily closed whatever distance you attempted to put between you two, his face hard and eyes burning with passion. With yearning. You never thought a man could look so determined yet hopeless as he did, the picture-perfect image of ardor. His brows pinched together, his lower lip trembling as he sighed. “Do you want me?”

You shook your head.

If only it could be as simple as that.

“It’s wrong, my Prince. We couldn’t… We wouldn’t work out. I only meant to say that I do adore you, and I do not want whatever complicated feelings we have to ruin our friendship,” Lies. Every word uttered from your lips were nothing but measly lies. Kiyoomi could tell too – the hesitation written all over your face said otherwise. “I hope you understand. You and I – we’re impossible.”

You couldn’t tell which one you needed more: for him to deny your worries, or for him to agree that you were right. You figured both would be just as painful.

Kiyoomi’s nostrils flared as you looked away from him, feet shuffling in the other direction already. “Stop. Do not take another step. Don’t you dare,” with a low growl, you were suddenly pulled back against his warm chest. You gasped at the hardness of his body, the warmth of his skin, the tenderness of his touch. His lips were everywhere but the one place you needed it to be – lingering at the curve of your neck, his breaths fanning over your exposed collarbones. It was like he had set you on fire with one touch alone, his firm grip around your waist both eerily intimidating and lustrous. And he must’ve laughed – you weren’t sure anymore. All you knew was that you were completely under Kiyoomi’s mercy, and quite frankly, he could have his way with you as he pleased.

“If you do not choose me…” murmuring, your breath hitched as his lips briefly grazed your skin, making your pulse jump. “You will regret it. You will be unhappy with him.”

I’m already unhappy with him, you wanted to say, but the words died in your mouth.

You’d lost all forms of coherence under Kiyoomi’s spell. Especially in this compromising position, this scandalous way his hand now slowly trailed its way from your abdomen and up to the swells on your chest – Gods, what would any witnesses say? This wasn’t how a Prince held a woman that wasn’t his.

“Your Highness,” you tried to fighting from his grasp, only to fall momentarily back against him when finally, finally, his lips were now leaving marks on your neck. It took all of your willpower to not give in right there, to not sink your fingers in his delicious curls. You had to say no. “I-I think we’ve both had a long night. We should retire to our quarters.”

“I will allow it if it’s my quarters you’ll be sharing.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck – your gaze darted around the empty hallway, paranoid.

The lights had been dimmed hours ago, the staff retiring to their rooms, but it was so quiet your breathy moans could echo. Anyone could walk in and see you like this, pleading but not quite begging for the Prince to not stop holding you.

And it was wrong, so deliciously wrong.

“Please,” you closed your eyes, unable to stop yourself from craning your neck to give him access. Above you, Kiyoomi chuckled, the rumbling of his chest deliciously low.

“You should stop lying to yourself, Princess. You do not want him. Whatever attachment you still have for my brother, it is nothing but a pitiful excuse of familiarity. You keep him around because there is no other choice, but you cannot keep lying to yourself. You cannot keep lying to me that you do not feel as I do when I see the way you look at me,” grasping your chin with his much larger hand, Kiyoomi forced you to look into his eyes. Pools of inky depths stared back at you with part frustration, part lust – his skin already flushed with sweat. You couldn’t look away even if the world ended. There was only you and Kiyoomi, with his hand resting on top of your breasts and gently caressing, so light you might’ve thought he wasn’t there.

And you, breathless and reckless, clung to him like he was your last lifeline.

Kiyoomi dipped down. His nose brushed against yours, your breaths mingled before he breathed you in greedily. “I was never a man who had many desires, but you are the greatest of them all. You run through my mind even in my sleep, and you are the first thing I search for when I wake. So do not tell me you do not want me when I know it’s my name you cry out in your sleep.”

Your knees felt impossibly weak.

“What do you want me to do? I’m married. You’re married. Are you forgetting divorce is impossible?” you snapped back, shoving him until his back hit the wall. The painting above him clattered, yet the Prince seemed uncaring, his arms crossed against his chest as you breathed hard. This was preposterous – this could not go any longer. “This would never work. The people would never understand.”

“I do not care what they think.”

“I care what they think! My husband is already cheating on me, and his own people detest him for it. What more if they find out I have taken you as my lover?”

“Then tell me to go,” he whispered, tilting his head back as he stared at you almost defiantly, mockingly. Like he knew you wouldn’t have the courage to actually say it. “Tell me, and I will walk away.”

When Kiyoomi is met with silence, he scoffed. A smirk graced his handsome face before he’s grabbing you by the arm and twisting you, the positions reversed until your back hit the wall. There’s a slight ache pounding at the back of your head, but nothing – absolutely nothing – could tear your attention away from his lips crashing into yours. The kiss is nothing short of avidity. Kiyoomi devoured you like a man starved, molding the shape of his lips into yours while his large hand encompassed the entirety of your face. Thumbs running over your cheek, his imposing frame completely dominated you. Your bodies were now pressed into each other that it became difficult to tell where you began and the Prince ended.

All you knew was Kiyoomi kissed you like he spent most of his nights dreaming about it, sighing and groaning all at once before his tongue fought for dominance.

Pushing his tongue inside your willing lips, he tasted all of you. He spoke the words he struggled to say, the firm grasp on your hip keeping you in place beneath him a clear sign he didn’t want you anywhere but here. But you weren’t leaving. You’d be a fool to walk away now that you finally had a taste of him, and it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

You wanted more, needed more.

Kissing him back harder, your palms flattened on his chest before you balled his shirt into your fists, uncaring if he’d walk back home flustered and wild. You simply needed him there; you wanted to breathe him in, to have nothing but him as your entire world.

“Stay,” you pleaded in between kisses, letting the Prince maneuver you until your bum landed flat on a table. Uncaring, the Prince swept aside all knick-knacks placed above it when his lips found yours again. And oh, a greedy man he was. Even after kissing you until you were breathless, he still hadn’t had his fill. His tongue danced with yours in this gentle melody only you two could sing, your bodies moving in sync like a choreographed dance. Your hand would wound up to tangle itself in his dark locks, his hands would scramble to undo his breeches, and willingly – wantonly – you would welcome him with all your being. It’s a dance between lovers, a forbidden tune you sang wholeheartedly, accompanied by your high-pitched moans once the Prince had himself buried in you – “Oh. Oh.”

“Who makes you feel good?”

“You, my Prince, it’s you,”

Biting down on your lip to muffle the noises you made, you heard the crescendo of the music. Rising and rising with overwhelming intensity at each note hit, each perfect thrust and drive into you. He hadn’t felt like anyone else. He was thicker and spread you open, impaled on his stiffness while you sat there helplessly to take it all. You felt empowered and weak at the same time, with your legs locking behind his chest as tears rolled down your face from the pleasure of it all, but Kiyoomi showed no signs of stopping.

Heavens, he might not even stop tonight, not when you sucked him in tight and made his breath stutter, his thrusts staggered.

“Kiyoomi,” you cried out, unable to keep quiet any longer. He simply held you carefully, a great contrast to his hips pistoning in and out of you – no, he held you like you were a porcelain doll he feared would break, someone he had to protect and cherish. And his eyes – droopy yet adoring – gazed upon you like you were worth more than any crown. “Oh, you are so…”

His forehead landed on top of yours, his lips minutely brushing against yours for a quick kiss. It’s rushed, frantic, yet intimate in ways you’d never experienced before. For once, sharing bodies with someone didn’t feel like just like sex.

For once, you finally made love with someone.

“Choose me, Princess,” he gritted his teeth, “It was always meant to be me.”

You awoke with a gasp.

Sitting up, your heart pounded in your chest, your skin clammy and drenched with sweat. A scan of your surroundings told you that you were in your room, the empty side of your bed a sign Rintaro kept to his word and left you alone. Closing your eyes, your head dropped down to your palms.

So it had been a dream, after all.

You really allowed Kiyoomi to walk away from you. And one mistake leading into another, you let Rintaro do the same.

Regret churned at your stomach. You could see it perfectly now – the drooping of the Prince’s shoulders, his gaze cast downwards when you bid him farewell. There were still traces of the happiness you felt in Itachiyama lingering on him just as he finally left, ones you were compelled to reach out to before it was too late. But it couldn’t be – you refused to give into your desires when it meant committing a sin. Rintaro didn’t deserve your loyalty, but he was still your husband, and you wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing you’d been exactly like him.

In fact, you might be becoming like him with each passing day, and although you would never say it out loud, you understood him better now.

To find someone who could’ve been yours, someone who would’ve made you so happy against all odds, and to not have them at all – it felt like a cruel joke was being played by the Universe.

Is this what Rintaro felt like? Did he feel as if the world was being unusually cruel to him? Did he wonder what he could’ve done to deserve all this? Because those thoughts ran into your head long enough that you gave up on sleep, and rolled out of bed with a heavy heart and – shamefully – aching with need. Snatching your robe from the closet, you tiptoed out of the room. Rintaro was fast asleep in the sofa, his arm shielding his eyes from the lit candles. When he didn’t budge from his spot at you poking around him, you let out a sigh of relief and left the room. Clicking the door shut, you spun around, coming face to face with a wide eyed maid.

“Heavens!” you placed a hand on your chest, and then chuckled as the maid stepped back and bowed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone would still be around.”

The maid frantically shook her head. She scratched the back of her head as her gaze darted around, seemingly determined to not look you in the eye. “No, Your Highness, it was my fault for startling you. I was reassigned to you just now, you see, and… Uhm, I’m Airi. Prince Shinsuke sent me here.”

Airi… You’d heard that name before.

“Oh! Airi. Yes, of course, I remember you,” you nodded, tying the robe around your waist tighter. “Why are you up this late?” At your question, Airi’s cheeks flushed a deep red before turning away. You smiled to yourself, chuckling under your breath as you gently squeezed her arm. “I understand. You needn’t say anymore.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Would you like to accompany me for a walk?” you gestured to the empty hall. Airi nodded, a little too enthusiastic in picking up her skirts. You figured neither of you wanted to stay here any longer where anyone could easily see you.

Turning to the other direction, you headed for the gardens at the outer wing. It was the closest to your shared room with Rintaro, and coincidentally, an infamous shortcut to Belleview’s surrounding gardens. There had been rumors that Belleview was added in the palace grounds as an afterthought years ago – how a sudden need arose to have a separate place for a married couple. It was bizarre, in your opinion, how this long, seemingly endless path would certainly end up right at Kiyoomi’s doorstep if you were patient enough to brave the half hour walk.

Could you?

Would you?

Absentmindedly, you gnawed at your nails. Your Mother would chastise you for the unladylike gesture if she were here, but it was only you and Airi. She wasn’t going to judge, although you didn’t miss the way she glanced at you so often. Curiosity, maybe, but a question imposed her eyes. Deciding to break the silence, you smiled at the dark-haired maid.

“You’re very pretty. I can see why the Prince fell for you.”

Airi stuttered in her steps. “Oh! Thank you, you’re too kind for that, but I doubt it’s because of the way I look. The Prince and I have known each other since we were kids, that’s all. My mother was a maid too before she died. She was the one who helped raise His Highness,” she babbled, grimacing when she realized your patient smile held little to conceal your amusement. “Uhm… If I may be so bold, my Princess, I think you look rather great for someone who has been cheated on.”

Your brows rose. That you hadn’t expected.

“I do?”

“Yes. You look unbothered by it, or at least, you seem to be doing a great job at it,” she offered a polite smile, “Being a royal must come naturally to you as a noblewoman.”

Unable to help it, you chuckled. Oh, how wrong she was.

“Not at all. I haven’t always been this way,” you told her, watching as your surroundings changed from the marble pillars and into the night sky, where the fresh, cold breeze bit at your skin. You were thankful for it – the cold atmosphere was a great contrast to the blooming, colorful flowers.

It somehow reminded you of Kiyoomi’s gardens, and how you probably wouldn’t see it anymore.

The smile on your face disappeared. The ring on your finger grew heavier, and unbeknownst to you, you started spinning it with your thumb. It was curious, truly, how a week was all it took before you completely lost yourself. You couldn’t remember who you were even like before Itachiyama, before Kiyoomi. Or could it be that the past you had never been fulfilled to begin with? What if you were merely a work in progress, and the you in this moment was the real one?

If that was true, then that could only mean two things you would never want to admit out loud.

One: that you weren’t as in love with your husband as you thought if you couldn’t get Kiyoomi out of your mind, or Two: that the traditional saying and belief was right – your last dance would be your fated lover.

And it would make sense, too. Of course, you were happy with Rintaro. Were. You fell in love with him simply because there was no other appropriate reaction. He was the Crown Prince, a man who called on you every single day and learned about your passions until night came. He charmed your parents, loved them as his own, and proudly presented you to his regal family. It was the kind of love little girls were taught to dream about. The kind of love everyone wanted. You couldn’t blame yourself for craving the Prince’s touch, for giving him all your firsts. It seemed only the right thing to do. He courted you, committed to you, loved you as much as he could – it was logical and methodical.

It was one plus one equals two.

But Kiyoomi? It didn’t feel natural, or a step by step process.

It felt all kinds of wrong because you shouldn’t, and all kinds of right because it’s him. It’s the way he smiles at you when he thinks you’re not looking, or how his head is always turned in the other direction to act like he isn’t listening. He isn’t like Rintaro who never takes his gaze off of you – not because he can’t get enough of your beauty, but because he was watching. Rintaro was always watching, analyzing everything you did, crafting his actions and words perfectly to elicit the response he wanted from you.

His brother was the exact opposite.

Kiyoomi always stayed at the walls and blended in with the background. He never attracted any attention to himself, but would devote his entire focus on you simply because he’s entranced. Or you hoped he might. Surely it couldn’t be one-sided.

You felt it too – the frustration ebbing off of him each time you slipped away. You saw with your own eyes the way his face fell when news of your husband’s affair spread.

He didn’t hate his brother for sleeping with his mistress behind your back. He hated Rintaro for ruining a night that should’ve been yours. A night where his touch could linger on yours for a moment longer as you smiled for the cameras. A night where it’d be appropriate for him to look at you like you’re the star of the show – it’s camaraderie, you’d play off – and a night where he might’ve drove you back at the farmhouse and slowly, tenderly, begin with tugging your gloves off before he moved on to your dress.

Gods. You exhaled. You shouldn’t be doing this.

You shouldn’t be thinking about Kiyoomi, his plump lips that looked inviting, his dark eyes hungrily roaming over you and hoping, praying, that it’d been him instead. These were all wrong – so why were you walking towards Belleview?

“Your Highness?”

Airi’s voice snapped you out of your trance. Blinking, you smiled back at her in apology and continued. “Sorry, I must have been lost in my thoughts. As I was saying, though, I spent most of my life hiding behind my parents’ shadows because I struggled talking to people. And then the Crown Prince came and swept me off my feet, which changed everything. When he came into my life, I figured I had to become someone worthy enough to stay by his side, someone he could be proud to be with. It took a lot of years and effort before I could be confident enough to say I was good enough for him,” you mumbled, stopping in your tracks to look up into the dark horizon before you.

Huh. Why hadn’t you realized that before?

You’d been trying so hard to impress Rintaro all along. Isn’t that why you were so frustrated? You’d spent years molding yourself to become who he wanted, only to be slapped in the face that it was impossible because you could never be her.

You let out a dry laugh. “But apparently not. He already had someone else.”

“I’m really sorry you were dragged into this. From the stories Prince Shinsuke tells me, you’re a kind woman who deserved better.”

“I don’t know about that,” you said, “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t mad upon reading the tabloids about his affair? If anything, I was just furious he couldn’t stay out of trouble and ruined my trip to Itachiyama.”

“Did you like it there?”

“I loved it. I wanted to stay.”

Admitting it out loud felt… liberating. You were beginning to feel more like yourself, even if it meant being less of a Princess and more of this unorthodox woman who simply wanted to be. It must be the side effect of spending time with Kiyoomi. You would soon care less about the rules imposed on you, and unapologetically be yourself.

“But the world sure has a cruel way of bringing you back to reality.”

“Your Highness?”

Both yours and Airi’s head snapped at the sound. Amongst the rustling of the bushes, a tall figure suddenly appeared – all mighty and regal even in his creased blouse and loosely tied breeches. His hair, dark and tousled like he’d run his fingers through it, did little to hide the surprise on his face.

“My Prince,” you breathed out, “What are you doing out here so late?”

“I couldn’t sleep. And you?”

You fought back a smile at his raspy voice. You could almost picture it – Kiyoomi tossing and turning all night in a bed separate from Iris. The sanguine voice in your head fibbed, too, wondering if the Prince thought about you as well. “It’s a restless night,” was all you let on, and gestured to the shock-still maid beside you. “Airi, do you mind giving us some privacy?”

Vehemently, she shook her head. “Not at all, Princess. Please, call for me if you need anything. I won’t be far.”

You waited as Airi disappeared from sight before you stepped closer to the Prince, compelled by an invisible force to be closer to him. “Kiyoomi–”

“Are you well?”

“Me? Why do you ask?”

He tipped his head to the side, causing a lone curl to fall in front of his eye. You fought back the urge to brush it away, beguiled by his long fingers sweeping it away “You’re in a very difficult position right now, whatnot with the article spreading,” he gestured back to the castle, “Has he spoken to you?”

You shook your head. “He’s kept to himself the past few days. I think this is a lot harder on him than it looks. As for me, well… I’ve had better days.”

True to your word, Rintaro almost secluded himself from the world. He shut off his phone, chucked it at another corner of the room, and never touched it again. It was painful seeing your husband that way when you know of his hobby of endless scrolling. But now, he couldn’t stomach the social media wishing him ill, seeing so blatantly with his own eyes his people’s deference to him. It hurt – more so for him than you – but still, a small part of you wished he’d say something. You were there, were you not?

You cut off your trip short because your husband needed you, and he barely uttered a word since you arrived. It got at your nerves. Nevertheless, you’d give him the time he needed. You planned to keep to your word that you would fix this all for him, regardless of what that might take.

You weren’t so cruel to let your husband be dragged into the pits of hell. Because quite frankly, that wasn’t the media’s right to begin with. If anyone would unleash hell upon Rintaro and Iris, it had to be you.

Kiyoomi scanned your face. “You don’t seem upset about all of this.”

You shrugged. “Their secret would’ve gone out one way or another. It was only a matter of time. Besides, I have far, bigger things to worry about, like you,” you leveled your gaze with his, watching as the Prince sucked in a breath.

Your last conversation with him the past night still played in your mind. It ate away at you to have to say goodbye when you didn’t want to, but he was here now. You woldn’t waste the opportunity to make things right.

Steeling yourself, you shut your eyes tight to gather courage. “Kiyoomi… Your Highness. I… I do not wish to stop talking to you. I know I sound absurd because I haven’t known you that long, but everything we shared in Itachiyama, I cherish it. I won’t forget a single memory I shared with you. So please allow me to take back what I said. I didn’t mean it when I said I would stop talking to you.”

“You should, though.” Opening your eyes, your heart dropped into your stomach when the Prince took a step back. “I don’t think we can be friends, Princess.”

Your hands grew cold and clammy.

“W-Why not? Have I done something to offend you? Tell me, and I will correct it–”

“We cannot be friends because I do not wish to be just your friend.”

Whatever distance he created between you disappeared. In the blink of an eye, Kiyoomi had closed the gap in one smooth stride, leaning down close enough his nose nearly brushed yours.

You inhaled sharply at the proximity. Kiyoomi’s heat blanketed you, making you realize you’d been shivering from the cold prior to his arrival. Now, he was here, and your senses were filled to the brim with him – his scent, his warmth, his frame looming over yours making you feel protected instead of small. You couldn’t help it; your fingers twitched to pull him by his collar and finally have his lips pressed to yours. It’d been eating away at you for several nights.

A peck couldn’t hurt.

But you made no move, greedily sharing in the same breaths instead. Because if it was all you could have, then it was all you could get.

“You’re right. It does sound absurd. We have barely spoken to one another, yet I’m already tired of this stupid game my brother is playing – his foolish plans to become King, make my wife his concubine, all with the intention of keeping you around like a pet. It makes my blood boil,” Kiyoomi grinned, though it was more sinister than genuine. “He cannot have everything for himself. I will not let him.”

“My Prince. I–”

“–Don’t get me wrong. I’m not in love with you, nor do I have any intentions of stooping down to Rintaro’s level and stealing what isn’t mine,” cruel, you think, as the Prince effectively cut you off with a brush of his thumb to your lips. You were now putty at his hands; melting and knees weakened with nothing but his touch holding you up. “But I am tired of seeing you this distraught over a man who cannot see your worth. I have had enough. So whatever plans you may have to retaliate, tell me, and I will gladly be a pawn in your game. Make your move. You may command me as you please.”

It took a moment before his words dawned on you. When it did, your palms flattened on his chest, absorbing its warmth and feeling the flutter of his heart underneath your fingertips. He felt so alive, whole, and well – you couldn’t possibly drag him into your mess.

“I could never use you like that. You know this.”

“So you do have a plan in mind,” he noted with a smirk, fingers crawling up to circle your wrist. “My brother really underestimated you, hasn’t he? You’re already proving to be far more dangerous than any sword.”

You flushed warm at his compliment. Pretty, yes, Rintaro has called you that multiple times. Beautiful, gorgeous, even, but dangerous? It made you feel powerful, like the crown was already on your head, and the kingdom was all yours for the taking. But greed often started out as a small flicker of fire, and you stomped on it as quickly as it breathed into life. You were no thrill seeker – you would not dabble or tread in dangerous, unknown, forbidden paths. Such paths like Kiyoomi, but it was there. The temptation. The calling to just reach out to the hand he’s offered.

Its voice beckoned you. Come, it whispered oh-so-sweetly at your ear, he is your puppet.

You bit the inside of your cheek in contemplation. “It isn’t a good plan at all, and the Queen has summoned us – all of us – to inform us of her decisions on how we will proceed with this scandal. There’s a good chance Her Majesty might get in the way, but I’m determined. I need this plan to work.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“I plan on turning the tables around and pinning it on Iris. I know it’s dangerous – she’s your wife, and you might get caught in the crossfire–”

“Do as you please.”

“Are you serious?”

Kiyoomi nodded with resolve. “When I said I do not wish to be just your friend, I meant it. I want you to use me. I want to be your weapon,” nudging his nose with yours, he brought up your hand to his lips, kissing the glimmering diamond on your ring. A kiss of rebellion, a war cry, or a silent plea to be dominated – it said everything and too little all at once. “If there is anything I can do to help you escape this royal hell, I will do it.”

You closed your fist around his lips, and basked in the ghostly flutters it will leave upon your skin hours after he has gone. Then, you questioned it all: how could something so poignant evoke a raging will within you?

“It will be hard for you, Your Highness,” you warned him, “My plan is not a kind one.”

“I do not have very kind thoughts myself,” he chuckled, the sound dark and ominous. “But you should be careful, Princess. Iris is not who you think she is. If you are to proceed with your plan, you need to watch out for yourself, and Maiko especially.”

Maiko? What could Maiko’s involvement with Iris be?

“She won’t hurt Maiko, will she?”

“She wouldn’t dare, but I can’t guarantee she won’t try doing something to you,” with a wary gaze, Kiyoomi immediately masked it with that of indifference. Scanning the surroundings, and hearing nothing but the crickets of insects and the rustling of bushes from the wind, Kiyoomi wrapped a protective arm around your waist. “It’s getting late. Let me walk you back. Iris is probably somewhere close.”

You were never one to feel much fear, but in that moment, a sense of numbing chill settled in your bones. Goosebumps arose on your skin. It was almost like you could feel it – her sharp gaze, her wicked and deceivingly innocent smile. You shivered despite yourself and huddled closer to the Prince, letting him guide you through the garden’s maze when his lips brushed the shell of your ear.

“Do you wish to know what would make Iris tick?”

“What?”

“It may be Rintaro who she wants,” his breathy voice caressed you, sending a different set of shivers down your spine. “But it is I whom she would kill to keep. Present yourself as a threat, make her believe you can steal me from her, and you will find her willingly offering Rintaro to you.”

You scoffed. “And if I don’t want him?”

“Then you shall always have me.”

Kiyoomi, Kiyoomi, Kiyoomi…

The Prince’s last words haunted you. Moreover, the way he looked with the moonlight illuminated upon him… he felt surreal. He came to you in your dreams more than once, caressing you in places he shouldn’t be touching, filling you in ways you never thought possible. A part of you wondered if it was merely your brain coping with the fact you’d mistakenly lain in bed with Rintaro. How you’ve felt disgusted with yourself ever since, and found it hard to look in the mirror. Perhaps it was simply a trick of the brain – replacing the man who left marks on you with the man that could’ve made you feel better. And you knew Prince Kiyoomi would – with those large, calloused hands, and luscious lips you spent countless hours gazing upon… would it be such a sin to wish they hadn’t been dreams only?

Picking up the nearby body wash, you scrubbed yourself clean of Rintaro. Your body still ached from last night’s events, but your heart clenched for an entirely different reason. Seriously. You couldn’t believe it. First, he’d let himself get caught in the action, and you let him sleep with you? You could’ve pushed him away. You could’ve said no.

It didn’t have to lead to whatever happened last night.

But then again, laughing to yourself, why did you chastise yourself so much? He was your husband. You were both married – sleeping with him wasn’t a mistake. Yet why did it feel like it? It felt as if… you kept on letting him take and take from you. How long until you’ve had enough? How much more could you give before there was nothing left of you?

You sighed, sinking deeper under the water. It’d been hours since your previous encounter with the older prince, and he hadn’t left your mind since. His offer for you to make use of him like he was a weapon, or worse, a tool, wasn’t an opportunity you could let pass by.

You could make use of him. He had more access to Iris than you ever could, and planting spies in Belleview Manor sounded terrible. She’d probably won over their loyalty judging by the way they kept their mouths shut that first night you arrived there to give her tea for her ‘headache.’ She had secrets, that you were sure of, but did Kiyoomi know them too? What was her connection with Maiko? Surely… Maiko wasn’t involved in whatever schemes they had in mind. The Princess was too sweet and innocent for that, but then again, so was Iris. The so called ‘dear friend’ of your boyfriend before he’d asked for your hand in marriage.

This was proving to be nearly impossible.

It was hard to tell who to trust within the Palace. Kita would be at your side, but you couldn’t possibly involve him in your plan. He might not even approve of it. It would be against the law, and it wasn’t the kindest thing one could think of. Kita would call it ‘the opposite of justice.’

“I hope the meeting went well, Princess?”

Popping your head from the water, you watched as Airi entered the room, folded towels in her arms. She’d prepared a bath for you long before you arrived, the water warm and filled with bubbles – just how you liked it. The room smelled faintly of roses, too, and you made a mental note to thank Airi for her efforts.

“It was great. His Highness and I discussed a lot,” he almost kissed me, too, but she didn’t need to know that, or the fact you wished he did. “Oh, and Airi.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

You pondered over it, you really did it. It was out of your character to abuse the power you had, yet you couldn’t stop the heat flaring in your veins. The pettiness that begged to be revealed. “Could you have someone call L’Essenxe Royale? Tell them I want them to discontinue their Vanilla Candy line because I’m allergic to it, and it would be a shame if I had to stop purchasing their perfumes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Airi nodded, stopping in her tracks after a beat. “I wasn’t informed you were allergic to vanilla. I’m sorry, I’ll do better in catering to your needs more.”

“I’m not allergic. I just don’t want to smell Iris ever again.”

Just before Airi could respond, the doors swung open. Suna sauntered in like he owned the place, the top three buttons of his white shirt undone and loose. His collarbones and the top of his chest shone with sweat, his skin flushed and his dark hair messily swept to the sides. He must’ve gone for his early training – and damned him for looking good.

You snorted inwardly. But Prince Kiyoomi probably looked better.

“There you are. I didn’t get to see you before I left.”

“Airi, please give us a moment,” you requested from where you sat, arms lazily resting on the sides of the tub. Airi scurried out of the room with reddened cheeks – no doubt picturing what events could transpire between a naked wife and her insatiable husband. And speaking of said husband, he’d leant against the pristine white walls, arms crossed against his chest as he let those dark, hooded eyes roam over your exposed skin.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I think the real pleasure here is this view.”

You rolled your eyes. “Is that what you told your mistress too when you fucked her in my bed?”

Suna paused. It was a bait; he was sure of it. Choosing not to bite at your provocation, he pushed his weight off the wall and gestured to the doors. “You redecorated the room,” he announced, “Without my permission.”

“I wasn’t aware I needed your permission. I thought we made it clear – under your suggestion – that I was to sleep in that bed, and you take the couch outside. Technically, that would make it my room, no?”

“You made Airi burn the sheets.”

“Sue me.”

“You threw away Iris’ clothes.”

“They barely counted as clothes, Your Highness. They were just thongs.”

“If this is about last night–”

“Last night was a mistake. Never speak of it again,” you warned, and just the mere reminder that you’d let him have his way with you, and you were too weak to refuse, again, no longer made the relaxing bath enjoyable. All of Airi’s efforts poured down the drain because having Suna around had your muscles stiffening with tension again. Rising from the bath, you wiped off the bubbles and suds off your body before stepping out. “What did you truly come here for? You never bother me when I’m bathing.”

Suna’s hungry gaze followed your every movement. The perverted bastard wasn’t even trying to hide it – his poor attempts of adjusting his breeches a failure once you’d put on your robe. “Her Majesty has summoned us for breakfast. She has an important announcement to make. I suggest you make haste so she won’t be anymore upset with us.”

“With you, you mean,” you waved around your lip balm, “What? Don’t look so offended. I am not the one who caused a scandal here.”

“I’m tired of arguing with you.”

You couldn’t agree more. Smacking your lips together, you walked past him, making sure to sashay your hips as you did. But before you could leave the room, Suna’s hand shot out to wrap it around your wrist. Gently, he pulled you back into him until your breasts brushed with his chest, the dampness of your robe making his shirt stick even harder on his skin.

“Wait,” he breathed out, not once taking his eyes off you as he blindly swiped for a towel. “Let me dry you off properly. It would be a shame if you made a mess on your newly decorated room.”

Your husband fell down on his knees before you could say a word.

You almost asked him what he was doing when his hands tugged at the ties of your robes, his tender touch pushing them past your shoulders until the robe pooled at your feet. You inhaled sharply. Suna was kneeling before you, caressing your leg and urging you to place at his thigh. You don’t know what compelled you to obey, but you did. Resting it on his leg, you felt too exposed – his nose was right at your stomach, his hands touching everywhere but that one place near your heat.

It was torture.

The entire act was done with slow, purposeful motions. Like an artist taking great care with his sculptures, he pressed hard on your hips to keep you in place when you shivered. His strength, his silent gestures that he wouldn’t let you slip and fall – it broke your heart.

Why couldn’t he love you?

Why couldn’t he touch you this way and mean it?

Why did he have to remove his ring?

The glint of the golden material caught your attention from the vanity. You picked it up where he left it last night, unconsciously hugging it to your chest until you fell asleep. Until now, you’d brought it with you, and stared at it hard enough it might’ve melted. It never did, just as he would never belong to you. And then – his finger swiped over your nipple, the cloth on his hands now damp and his breath staggering as he moved to kiss your bare stomach.

You pushed his head away.

Suna stumbled back, barely. He sat there with a dazed expression, the towel he used to dry you with now forgotten. His hands shook in his lap, his eyes blown wide with something you couldn’t quite name – longing, regret, frustration. Whatever it was, it matched yours.

“I’m dry enough,” you told him, snatching off his ring from the counter and flicking it his way. The two of you watched as it stumbled along the ground with a loud clink, clink, clink, before it rolled right at his feet. When you finally found the courage to speak, your voice was so quiet – you couldn’t hear yourself at all. “Wear it. I don’t care that it no longer means anything to you. I won’t have you causing anymore problems for me when your mother asks about it.”

When you and Suna sat next to each other at the dining hall, neither of you spoke a word.

In fact, not a single person present dared to. Her Majesty sat at the head of the table, the clink of her utensil the only thing audible as she furiously cut into her steak. She was furious, that much was obvious. Even Crown Prince Ushijima hadn’t touched his meal, and his young son, barely a boy of eight, had his lips shut the entire time.

Finally, she takes a bite, takes a huge drink of her wine, and slams the glass down. All of you jump at the sound.

“It is not every day we can all be gathered here, but as you are all aware, it is a trifling time for the Crown. We as the royal family need to be united now more than ever,” she announced, her back straight as she looked everyone in the eye. “Which is why I am here to inform everyone of some minor changes we will implement from now on, and some events we have planned for the next season. First of all, Princess–” she pointed her knife your way, “-I need you to hold your mother back. She’s getting on my nerves with all her incessant calling.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she lifted her chin, “Your Mother hasn’t stopped bugging me ever since that article was released. She demands I return her to you, but I think she forgets her place and yours. You are a Princess now; you are the Crown’s property. You are to stay here and see to your duties until you take your last breath.”

Forcing a smile, you willed yourself to calm down. “My mother was merely concerned, Your Majesty. I’m sure she doesn’t mean any harm.”

“Which is exactly why I’m telling you to tell her to stand down. I have already spoken with my advisors our next course of action and have all decided that we will deny Rintaro and Iris’ affair by all means. We are to pretend as if the article never existed. We need to show we are the Crown, the monarchs and rulers of this grand kingdom. We will not be swayed by measly gossip and defaming rumors.”

“But it wasn’t a rumor. The Crown Prince did sleep with the Princess.”

Her Majesty sighed, the sound dramatically drawn out. “Do you have any complaints, my dear? Because if you did, then you should have attended the meeting this morning.”

You gritted your teeth. “I wasn’t informed there was one.”

“That’s a shame – I thought Rintaro would tell you. It seems he likes to keep his secrets, then,” she jabbed, and your husband nervously sipped his wine as you glared at the sides of his head. “Now, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, we planned a few events for this season. For this month, the four of you will be showing up to public events and you are to appear united in marriage. Laugh, kiss, hold hands – I do not care. Just make sure the cameras get it, and if anyone dares ask on any clarifications about the affair, simply tell them that it is very easy to fabricate photographs nowadays. You will deny everything. Understand?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” agreed Suna, and you scoffed. Snaking his hands under the table, he squeezed yours in assurance and whispered, “Don’t cause a scene in front of the Queen. We will talk later about this.”

“I was hoping we would.”

“Next, Iris and Y/N will be having weekend dates to show they are friends. We have already contacted an orphanage you will pay a visit to. Play with the kids, read storybooks with them, and get as many pictures as possible. Not only will it show that there’s camaraderie between you two, but hanging out with children will also imply that we can expect a next line of heirs soon.”

“A splendid idea!” Atsumu beamed, the first to dig into his meal. Rather, the Prince was halfway finished stuffing his mouth, happily rubbing his hands together at the thought. “This will all be good for the Crown, and to win the people’s trust back.”

“You really don’t know how to shut up, huh?” muttered Osamu.

“Your Majesty. Don’t you think this is going too far?” Tobio spoke up, slamming his hands on the table as he stood up. Beside him, Prince Shinsuke was pleading for him to sit back down. The youngest Prince merely slapped his hands away, looking betrayed by his brother’s words. “Why is no one speaking up? Is this how the royal family really is? You would all lie to your people, deceive them we are all in one heart and mind when we are not. Is that the kind of rulers we aspire to be? Are we really the rulers they look up to?”

Prince Shinsuke pinched the bridge of his nose. “I understand you’re upset, but the throne wouldn’t have lasted this long if none of us pulled some strings and kept up deceiving acts. Trust me, I also do not wish to take a part in this, but Her Majesty is right. The people are already growing restless that we have been without a King for years – having Crown Prince Rintaro’s reputation tarnished will not make this better. And as far as I know, there are still many protests against having an illegitimate child on the throne,” he reminded, causing Prince Ushijima to clear his throat awkwardly. Still, Shinsuke pushed on. “Rintaro is the King the Cabinet wants. We must follow the law. Ushijima can only be crowned King until we have ran out of options.”

Your jaw dropped.

“And what of me?”

“With all due respect, Your Highness, the future of the Kingdom is a heavier matter at hand than your broken heart,” Iris quipped, “Besides, if you knew about our relationship prior to the marriage, then you cannot blame anyone but yourself. You’re in this predicament because you were too cowardly to let go when given the chance.”

“That’s enough!” Tobio yelled. “You all need to stop talking about her like that. You’re all right – the Crown is more important. We need a stable ruler and for the people to not lose their trust in us. But the Princess is still a human. She was lied to, manipulated, and constantly looked down on. The least you can do right now is let her acknowledge her pain, seeing as it is clearly too much for each and every one of you to be decent human beings!”

Her Majesty paid him no mind. Waving her hand in the air dismissively, she sighed. “He is young. He will understand someday.”

At her nonchalance, Tobio’s nostrils flared. It was the last you saw of him before he kicked his chair back, storming out of the hall before everyone erupted into protests. Keiji slunk back into his seat, Shinsuke was immediately making efforts to appease the Queen by apologizing on everyone’s behalf, and Maiko was crying. And you? You glowered at the Queen before following after Tobio, the three other Princes right at your heels.

The doors slammed shut behind you.

You could hear the Princes running after you. Two pairs were rushing, but one pair of footfalls sounded more like stomping. Before you could turn down the hall where Tobio went, you were dragged by, Suna firmly gripping your elbow as he halted you in your tracks.

“Her Majesty was speaking,” he hissed, fingers digging harder to your skin. “Don’t be rude.”

“Oh, fuck off, Rintaro. I can’t believe you right now. Letting me be friends with your mistress? Really? And you didn’t even tell me there was a meeting this morning!”

His free hand ran through his hair. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you would act like this. You would’ve embarrassed me in front of the advisors. Besides, you left before I could–”

“I embarrass you? Do you even hear yourself? You’re the embarrassing one for going behind my back and sleeping with your mistress–”

“She’s not my mistress!”

“Isn’t she? I wasn’t aware there was another word to describe a woman frolicking with a married man!”

His grip grew tighter as he spoke, and you squeaked out in pain. You tried to pry his fingers off of you, but Suna wasn’t having any of it. “You’re one to talk, leaving me here in this country to go around dancing with my brother–” Your husband’s face disappeared before you. In the blink of an eye, he was shoved nearly across the room and falling right at his ass.

Kiyoomi stood protectively over you, his chest rising and falling as he shook with anger.

“Stay away from my wife!”

Meanwhile, Tooru dodged between Suna and Kiyoomi, the former rising on his feet and reeling his arm back in a punch. Tooru effortlessly caught his brother’s arm, but holding him back was a different struggle of itself. “Rin, that’s enough!”

“Are you okay?”

You blinked back from the scene. Kiyoomi was now holding your arm where Suna grabbed you, checking for any injuries. Aside from a little aching, and a possible bruise that would show up tomorrow, you were unharmed. Still, the Prince wasn’t assured. His thick brows pinched together in concern, turning your arm over and over as he muttered to himself the violent things he wished to do to his brother. “Did he hurt you?”

“Not really, but I want to go after Tobio.”

Kiyoomi nodded in understanding. “Go. I’ll handle this.”

You shared a knowing look with him. I’m on your side, his eyes said, and that was enough to reassure you. Giving him a nod, you quickly turned on your heels and ran. You ran and ran until you were out of breath, your corset digging into you uncomfortably. The youngest Prince sure was a fast one – he’d already reached his own study in such a short time.

Peeking through the partially closed door, your heart broke at the sight.

Prince Tobio sat on his painter’s stool, an unfinished portrait of you – smiling in your wedding dress – lay before him. He was crying, sniffling to himself and wiping his tears with the collar of his blouse. Even the sounds of his cries were too painful to hear.

Shutting the door behind you, you took your place behind him, gently squeezing his shoulders to make him look up. When he did, his bloodshot eyes greeted you.

“I’m sorry you had to witness all of that,” you tell him softly, “I didn’t mean to ruin breakfast for you.”

Tobio shook his head. He pulled out a handkerchief before blowing on it, and you smiled despite yourself – he’d grown so much, yet he was still that sweet, naïve boy in your eyes. It felt like a lifetime ago when he had his debut, and now he was flourishing into such a great, young man. Your little brother, the sweetest Prince – you would do anything for him.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, sis. You’re the victim here.”

You laughed a little. Victim sounded too poor of a word choice. Turning to the canvas before you, you gestured to it. “What are you painting?”

“You,” he admitted with red cheeks, “I started on this when Rintaro announced he’d be marrying you so I could give it as a wedding gift. But Her Majesty wanted me to focus on my studies, so I didn’t have enough time to finish. I mean, it’s not even the same dress you wore on your wedding so it’s inaccurate–”

“-It looks beautiful.”

“It’s still unfinished,” his shoulders slumped in your flattery before he lightened up, already moving to pick up the brushes as he wiped his snot with his hanky. “Since you’re here, would you like me to paint you as you are now? I’ll get a new canvas.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to lose all your efforts on your previous painting.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured, and per his instruction, you sat stiffly to ‘pose’ for him. It’s a little awkward, and Tobio struggled to sketch you each time you fidgeted, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore. Midway through his sketch, though, he placed his pencil down, his eyes brimming with tears again. “I still can’t believe Rintaro was capable of being so cruel. I’ll never forgive him for what he did,” he said, his lower lip quivering. “Are they really like this? Is everyone in the Palace truly so heartless? Will I… never find love of my own, too?”

“Oh, Tobio,” you reached your arms out, crushing him to your chest. The Prince’s tears dampened your dress, though you paid it no mind. He was too young for all this hurt – this war over the crown. He was too good for a cruel place like this. “It will get easier someday.”

Fisting your skirt, he buried his face to your neck, his whole body shivering under you. “I never wanted to be a Prince. I-I wanted to keep playing sports and go pro someday. There’s a whole world out there for me to see, and I’m so afraid I’ll never become the person I want to be. I’m afraid I might turn out like my brothers.”

You pulled back to make him look at you. Cupping his face with your hands, you shook your head firmly. “That’s not true, Tobio. You’re already a thousand times better than your brothers. Look, you’re sweet, kind, and passionate. Who says you don’t deserve to achieve your dreams? You can be who you want to be. You can see the world. I promise you that I’ll support you in anything you want to do. Anything.”

“Really?” grinning, he wiped his cheeks free from his tears. “Then… will you come to my game? There’s a match and the Coach just added me to the team. It… Well, it might be a good opportunity for you and everyone else to show you’re unaffected by the scandal, too.”

“Oh, forget the scandal. I only want to see you play,” you tell him, and the Prince’s innocent smile is so big and bright it soothed all the aches in your heart. You promised to yourself, then and there, that you would do what it takes to protect that smile. “Now, should we get to this painting?”

That talk with Tobio filled you with unwavering resolve.

The poor boy didn’t deserve to spend a minute longer in the Palace. It simply wasn’t a place for him. He needed to be out there, living his life to the fullest, and to be surrounded by good people who were healthy for him. Not his greedy, cheating brothers, and most especially not with the heartless Queen as his only mother figure.

You had to do something for him. You had to weaken the throne even further, exploit their weakness and make the monarchy crumble. If not for you, then you would do it for Tobio.

It was the reason you’d gained enough courage to dial the number weighing heavily in your pockets long before Itachiyama. That piece of paper Kiyoomi slipped into your coat just before you parted ways. You should’ve known it back then – Kiyoomi was somehow always one step ahead of you. It’s like he knew what you wanted to happen before you said out loud. What you needed before you told him what it was. And you’d done it – scheduled the meeting, hired a private chauffer, and rented out a restaurant in the middle of nowhere at the dead time of the night before you could change your mind.

Do it For Tobio. For Kiyoomi. For you.

He arrived not a minute later than the designated time. He stood tall and confident – seemingly unbothered by the mass of hate he’d accumulated. Sauntering in through the doors with a smirk, he let out a low whistle, impressed with the lack of people. You had promised him privacy, after all, and if you wanted to succeed in your plans, you couldn’t be shy in splurging a little bit of money.

“Kuroo Tetsurou, was it?”

“Your Highness,” he greeted with a bow, his smile growing wider as he pulled out his chair. He’s handsome, with a smile you wouldn’t deem trustworthy, and he held an aura to him that warned you to tread carefully. He was, after all, the man who singlehandedly exposed your husband’s affair. “I am flattered by your efforts, though I must admit. I did not expect you would reach out to me of all people. I assumed you wanted my head.”

You offer him a polite smile. “You have it all wrong. In fact, I’m thankful for the opportunity you’ve presented to me,” leaning forward, you slid a thin envelope his way. Inside it contained a document of your own words, one you trusted Kuroo would twist to sound more convincing. “I want you to publish another article.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened. He waited for a beat, a moment or two, for you to say you didn’t mean it. You could’ve been joking. But you hold his gaze, your smile just as firm, refusing to waver from his intense gaze. “With all due respect, Ma’am, I think I’m already in enough trouble for that last one.”

Fair enough. You didn’t think he’d be that easy to convince.

Reaching beside you, you pulled out a case and clicked open the locks for him. If Kuroo was surprised before, he was most definitely flabbergasted by now. Wads of cash piled against each other stared back at him – temping him to reach out and take it. Smiling to yourself, you gently nudged the case in his direction.

“This is half of what I’ll pay you. I’ll pay you twice as much once you’ve done your part,” you promised, “You don’t need to fear, Mr. Kuroo. I’ll guarantee your protection if you do this for me.”

Kuroo chuckled to himself. Shutting the case back shut, he was quick to slide it to his side – deal done and closed. “If a lovely Princess is asking so nicely, I can’t possibly turn it down, can I?” pulling out a small notebook from his coat, Kuroo uncaps his pen with a twist of his teeth. “So let’s get into it. What story do you want, Ma’am? Do you want the truth or… something more scandalous than your husband’s affair?”

“I want you to ruin Iris,” you declared, “Inside that envelope is a list of people the Princess frequently interacts with, as well as records from her history dating back from when she moved here with mother. I want you to look into everything and pick apart whatever could destroy her reputation. There are secrets that she keeps, and I want them out in the public.”

Kuroo doesn’t bother writing that down. “Her reputation is well ruined already, Ma’am. I doubt much could make it worse.”

Your brow shoots up. “Are you doubting my abilities or questioning my demands?”

“Neither,” he reassured with a mischievous grin, “I shall write something about her, then, but what about the Crown Prince? Do I still have the assurance of your protection if he comes after me for messing with his precious little thing?”

Oh, please. His ‘precious little thing’ doesn’t even want him.

Spinning your wedding finger with your thumb, you stared at it. “Tell me, Kuroo. You’re a journalist, one that wasn’t invited at that private party my husband was in. So why were you there that night? Most importantly, how did you get their photos?” you brought your gaze back up to him, “You’re not secretly planning for the downfall of the crown, are you?”

Kuroo scratched the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Your Highness. But to answer your question, then no, I wasn’t invited. I wouldn’t even know a single thing about their affair if it wasn’t for one of you.”

“One of us?” you echoed, “Are you saying someone in the royal family hired you as well?”

“Indeed. Though I must say, I never expected working with just one of you could have me set for life. What more if I teamed up with you too?”

So your theories were right. That article didn’t appear out of nowhere – someone wanted it to happen. “It was Iris, wasn’t it? She asked you to publish that because she knew I was with her husband… but that wouldn’t make any sense. That article puts her in a bad light. It couldn’t be her, right?”

“You’ll be surprised, Ma’am, but it was not the Princess,” he clarified.

Kuroo’s face pinched in contemplation, and then suddenly, pulls out a different phone from his pockets. It’s a beat-up iPhone with its battery nearly dead, but with a few clicks here and there, the video played loud and clear. The camera is shaky, the angles all wrong. Whoever recorded it clearly seemed to be inebriated. Yet there it was – the unmistakable masculine voice groaning, the slapping of skin against each other, and a high-pitched womanly moan. The camera caught nothing but long, blond hair flowing on top of her bouncing breasts before the camera was flipped, finally showing the culprit –

“Atsumu?”

Atsumu gripped Yuki’s hips, shoving the phone between their bodies to show the pistoning of his cock in and out of her. There was no point denying it now. Both their faces were clear from the video, and if this got out…

Kuroo paused the video. “I’m not supposed to be showing you this, but the Prince hasn’t kept up to his end of the bargain, so I might as well ask for your help, too,” shutting the phone off, Kuroo rested his chin on his hands. “That night, he slept with an intoxicated actress and accidentally filmed themselves in the act. The Prince was drunk himself, made the mistake of posting that video online, and merely eighteen minutes later, any traces of their sex tape disappeared. Curious?”

The pieces of the puzzle finally fit.

“He called you to write about Iris and Rintaro to cover up his scandal.”

He snapped his fingers. “Bingo! And he succeeded, even if it was an impulsive decision on his side. Still, the Prince paid me handsomely because he was desperate, but he hasn’t offered me protection like he promised. I’m being hunted down by the Queen’s goons as we speak. Isn’t that why you offered to have me chauffeured here?”

You knew Kuroo prioritized his safety over money due to his current predicament. It was the reason why you risked sneaking out of the Palace and meeting him alone. His terms were clear – no witnesses, no guards, just you and him. You would keep to your word if it meant cornering Iris, but with Atsumu and that poor actress thrown into the mix… things just got more complicated.

Reaching out for Kuroo, you squeezed his hand. “You will be safe with me. I promise you this.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

You glanced at the iPhone between you two. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Kuroo, but now that you know he’d do pretty much anything for money, you couldn’t risk it. It wasn’t just Atsumu’s reputation you were worried about – firstly, Rintaro would kill him if he found out it was all his doing. Second, that poor actress. She rose to fame in her career recently; this would ruin her image. If things took the wrong turn, who was to stop the Queen from forcing the two to get married if that tape was leaked? You couldn’t risk any cracks in your plan.

“Kuroo, may I have that phone?”

“It’s all yours if you throw in another five grand, Princess.”

“Consider it mine then.”

You and Kuroo left immediately after everything was settled. Just as promised, you would cover all his travel expenses. He would stay overseas to ensure his protection while he reached out to his connections to get all the information he needed, and once the article was ready, he’d publish it and disappear from the media. You covered that too – he was paid enough to live comfortably while in hiding. Now, you only needed to wait for everything to go according to plan.

First, the downfall of Iris. Next, her separation with Kiyoomi without having to let Rin ascend to the throne. And once she’s finally out of the picture, you’ll move on to your beloved husband. You’ll seduce him, have him fall completely to your whim, make him realize he could never have anyone like you again – and once he’s wrapped around your finger, you’ll plea for divorce.

A heart for a heart. A marriage for a marriage.

And if the odds play into your favor at the end of it all, there’s only one destination in mind: Kiyoomi’s farmhouse in Itachiyama.

You smiled to yourself – it would work out. You had a good feeling about it. Kiyoomi is supporting you and acting as your spy, Kita is backing you up on the grounds for divorce, and the nation has unwaveringly showed their support for you in these trying times. After all, you were just the poor, neglected wife. They expected you to spend your days crying and chasing after your deceitful husband, or to simply take it all – be silent and smile for the cameras.

Fuck what the Queen said. You won’t let her win.

Driving back to the Palace, you glanced at the time. It’s almost four in the morning, and soon, Her Majesty would be beginning her routine and expecting her daily calls from the Princes. Pressing harder on the gas, you sped up until a glint catches your eye. You glance at the rearview mirror, eyes widening at the fast approaching car from behind – a sleek, black car with the royal family’s crest on it. Shit. But – it couldn’t be the royal guards. You’d made sure no one would see you, and Airi had gotten your note to slip some sleeping pills into Rintaro’s tea so you could sneak out. Kiyoomi was informed of your plans, too, and he’d reassured he’d hold the fort down while you dealt with Kuroo.

Unless Iris had snooped through his phone and found everything out, then –

You wasted no time. You drove faster, reaching for the gun in your glove compartment as the roaring of the car behind you moved in closer and closer. Heart pounding in your chest, you speed-dialed Kiyoomi, praying to any God who was listening that he would pick up. It couldn’t be Iris, it shouldn’t be her. God forbid she does anything to provoke you into pulling the trigger.

Infidelity was one thing, but the murder of a royal family member was not something one could merely frown at. You didn’t want to be thrown into jail.

The call did not push through.

“Fuck!” you slammed your feet on the gas, watching as the car sped up even more until it was now next to you. You were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but the mammoth of trees and a never ending road with darkness clouding the path. Just then, the windows rolled down, and you waited with bated breath as the face finally came into view.

Dark hair was the first thing you saw. The windows rolled down, down, down, until you were staring deep into your husband’s eyes. Brow cocked, he smirked, raising the phone to show he’d been calling you – that’s why you couldn’t call Kiyoomi. Suna was interrupting the line. Shit, how was he even awake right now?

Moreover, how did he find you?

You scowled to yourself. There was no outrunning him now. Suna was a ridiculously good driver, and there was no way you would ever use a gun on him. Steeling yourself, you forced yourself to regulate your breathing – your efforts boon when Suna suddenly pressed on forward until he was a feet away from you, maneuvered his car with the hood facing your direction, and then just – stopped.

Bracing your hands on the wheel, you forced all your energy to release its power on the slamming of your brakes. The skidding of your car squeaked for what seemed like minutes until finally – finally – your came to a halt. You were breathing hard, the back of your head aching from the impact of it crashing to the headrest. Meanwhile, Suna opened his car doors in slow, languid movements, the ends of his leather black trench coat hitting the pavement. With nothing but the headlights of his car illuminating him, he looked more like an omen of death than a Prince – dressed in a white turtleneck, black pants, and a long coat that highlighted his tall figure. He looked ominous, like he carried sorrow and pain with him – pain that he was about to make you feel.

Because you knew – of course you knew; you knew him better than anyone – that the placid smile he wore was anything but.

He slammed the car doors shut. Leaning against the hood, Suna’s gloved hands reached for a lighter in his pocket as he lit his cigarette, the stick hanging from between his lips. As soon as it flickered, he pocketed the lighter back, using two of his fingers to make a ‘come hither’ gesture at you.

Clearly, you spoke too early. The odds were not in your favor.

You exited your vehicle, hands gripping the edges of the door as you gathered to courage to take one more step towards him. It wasn’t that you were afraid – he wouldn’t hurt you, not really. But too much could be taken away from you in such little time – Kuroo couldn’t have gone far, and Atsumu’s sex tape was still in the backseat. You didn’t trust Rintaro to not ruin your plans. And you wouldn’t let him, not now when you were so close to victory.

One step, two steps, three steps – your heels clicked against the road as you walked, making sure to keep your chin pointed north. Hips swaying to the side, you finally ended up before him – right between his spread legs – your husband leaning back at the hood of his car whilst he sized you up, his free hand resting behind him.

“Funny seeing you here,” he drawled out, his voice thick with barely-held back rage. “They told me you were sleeping, but last time I checked, driving while falling asleep was illegal.”

“Cheating is also illegal.”

“Your comebacks are getting old, my love.”

Your head snapped to his direction. He hadn’t called you that in forever, not since you’d returned from your honeymoon. To have him call you that now, with such a deeply rich, smooth voice and sounding like he’d just woken up, all breathy and rasp – could it be possible to fuck someone to death?

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” tipping his head to the side, Suna’s lips slowly formed into a smirk. He took a drag of his cigarette, keeping his eyes on yours as he wrapped those lips around the stick – delicately and tantalizingly slow – just like how he did when he worshipped you in bed. You breathed out hard and attempted to take a step back, but he was having none of it. Swiftly, he’d tugged on your shirt to pull you close to him, causing you to stumble and fall into his lap. Above you, your husband’s chest rumbled with amusement.

“Look at you. Always so weak for me.”

He leaned in close, his scent of smoke and expensive woodsy perfume enveloping you. It’s addicting, just as he is, and your knees grew weak. Your legs slid down just as Suna wraps a strong arm around your waist to hitch you back in place, your core resting above his thigh. There, he spreads you open with just his knees, his warm lips suddenly attaching themselves to your neck. You gasped out, hands falling to his shoulders in a measly attempt to pull him away – and oh.

Suna had different plans in mind.

“You,” he breathed in your ear, his gloved fingers popping the button of your blouse one by one. “cannot get rid of me that easily, Your Highness. You can slip in as many drugs you want in my drinks, you can kill me a hundred times and fuck me over again and again, but don’t you dare forget,” growling lowly in your ear, your husband took your chin in his hands and forced you to gaze deep into his eyes – pools of hazel swirling with need and wrath – “Not even death can do us part. I’ll keep on looking for you even if you try to hide at the ends of the earth.”

#suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou x reader #suna x you #kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi x reader smut #kiyoomi smut #sakusa kiyoomi smut #kiyoomi x you smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #suna x reader angst #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #rintaro suna x reader #suna rintaro x you

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evillama666 · 1 month ago

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“Play fighting”

Daryl Dixon x Reader

It's my second fanfic!

I can totally see Daryl play fighting. Less stressful than real fights

Summary: Reader asks Daryl if they can play fight but he wasn’t prepared for how strong they are. Also he teaches them some stuff

No damsels in distress here!

Tags: I don’t fucking know, Platonic??? Some dirty thoughts, Happy Daryl (:

Word count: 4105

At first it was only like two-thousand so I wanted to make it longer but I didn't mean by another two-thousand words!

He's so ridiculous

꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…

When you asked Daryl if he was up for play fighting, he was hesitant at first. He doesn’t want to fucking hurt you, but he thought it would be a good opportunity to teach you how to fight. Also, he and Merle used to play fight as kids all the time! Mostly… Kinda… Ok, leave out the word play.

When he told you, you don’t have to go easy on him, he wasn’t expecting you to take it so seriously. He groans as he touches his ribs. He’s going to be all bruised by this afternoon. Hot… Despite being all bruised up, he’s smiling and laughing the whole time in the sun. It’s the happiest you've ever seen him. Of course he’s going easy on you. Again, doesn’t want to hurt you, but he can handle a beating himself. But damn, do you punch like a bitch. He studies your style as you fight and picks up on anything you need to work on. If you’re going to fight, he wants you to do it properly.

“Here.” He grunts as he takes your hand in his. “Hold ya fist like this. Less strain on your wrist.” He carefully positions your fingers and hand correctly. Once he’s satisfied, he lets go. “Now punch me.” You don’t hesitate to land a punch square in his chest. Huh, that really is less strain on the wrist. He has to stifle back a groan. Motherfucker! That hurt. There’s no way he’s getting his ass beat by this tiny girl…

He rubs his chest for a brief second, not showing that he was hurt. “How’d that feel?” You glance down at your hand, rubbing your wrist. “A lot better than what I was doing.” Daryl takes the second you’re looking away to rub his chest. His eyes roam over you. You seem to know what you’re doing. “Ya ever fought before?”

You look up when he asks that question, then shake your head. “No, but I used to play around with my dad and brother a lot.” Oh. Of course you grew up around men. He can clearly see that. “Tha’s gonna help you in this world. Just need ta fix a few thangs. I’ll show ya.” Having Daryl, who actually knows how to fight, teach you, is crucial. He comes up to you, a little cautious because you keep pulling dirty moves. Now that he’s behind you, he puts his hands on your shoulders, straightening them out. “Proper posture is beneficial.”

He takes back a step so he can show you. He lazily points at his shoulders with his thumbs. Is he flexing on purpose? Either way, those damn arms are taunting you. “See how ma shoulders are aligned?” He puts his hands back on your shoulders as he spreads your legs with his foot. That was so damn easy for him. Your cheeks flush as you think of him doing that in a very different situation. Luckily, he’s behind you, so he can’t see. “And balance. Gotta have good balance so ya opponent can’t just’ knock ya over.” He gives your body a few good jolts to demonstrate. You swear he’s testing you on purpose…

He crosses his arms over his chest as he examines your stance. “Now ya good at throwing ya weight behind ya punches but, now that ya balanced, it’s gonna be easier.” Well, might as well test that. You raise your fist, aiming for his chest again. It’s just so broad, it’s easy to aim for. And you don’t wanna seriously hurt him. He backs up, knowing damn well you were going to try to pull a dirty move. He grabs your fist with one hand, blocking himself with his other arm. “Ain’t that easier?”

“I thought we were gonna play, not give me a damn fighting lesson! You huff as you try to pull your fist out of his grasp. You know why Daryl is teaching you these things, but he couldn’t choose a time when you weren’t in such a playful mood? Daryl easily manoeuvres your body until he’s got his arm wrapped around your throat. He’s gotta be testing you, right? You yell and flail. “No! Chokehold’s illegal!” He smirks, knowing you’re using his own damn words against him.

“Get out of it.” He’s joking, right? This man’s got his beefy arms around your tiny little neck and he just wants you to get out of it? This is gonna be another lesson, isn’t it? You tug on his arm, desperately trying to get out. Maybe he’ll just let you go? …He won’t. He’s not using a lot of strength, but he does tighten his grip a little as a warning. After some more flailing, your body finally slumps. You mumble, reluctantly giving into his other lesson. “How.” You state, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of actually asking.

His smirk widens. You’ve gotta learn this eventually and you gave him the perfect opportunity. “It’s all in the grip. You gotta make ‘em let go. Either hit ‘em somewhere sensitive or knock ‘em off balance. As soon as that grip is loosened, you can get out.” You roll your eyes. He seriously expects you to do that to him? “I’m not gonna be able to do that to you.” His grip tightens just a bit before letting go. He’s got a smug smirk. “Nah. Leas’ ya learned.”

You rub your neck once he’s let go. Oh, to have those arms wrapped around you in a whole other situation- The words ‘knock them off balance’ rings through your head. Yeah, it’ll be hard to knock Daryl off balance, but he would look so good under you if you did. So, you shove your full body weight into his chest. He doesn’t budge an inch. He tilts his head. “I ain’t mean now.” You huff out a breath of annoyance as you back up. Ok, that was a little embarrassing. You didn’t even make him budge. Time to pull out another dirty move.

You inhale deeply as you kick out his knee. He groans as his hand darts to where you kicked. “Ah! You bitch!” Now that he’s half on the ground and in pain, it’s going to be easier to knock him over. You shove his chest, his back hitting the grass with a thud. At Least he got a soft landing… Kinda. Now you’re straddling his hips with your hands on either side of your head. Ok, you didn’t think of what to do now once you got here. He smirks up at you. “This what ya wanted?”

You shake your head as you fight a smile. “Shut up, Dixon.” You sit up, playfully shoving at his chest. You give him a second for the pain in his knee to relieve. Now that he’s like this, you can get a lot of hits in. You don’t give him too long before you’re back to punching his already sore chest. He blocks most of the punches with his arms. He knows you won’t go for his face. “Damn bitch. Ya like playing dirty, huh?” His voice is rough and low. Your punches don’t relent. “It’s the only way I’m gonna do anything to you.”

A low laugh escapes his chest. Fair enough. He has nothing against you playing dirty. He’d happily let you beat him to a pulp if it’d satisfy you. A few grunts slip his lips as you hit some particularly sore spots. For as long as you two have been going at it, you assume he’s a bit sore now. The only thing bothering you is a slight stinging in your knuckles. You get quite a few more punches in before resting your hands on his chest and catching your breath.

You know he could use a break too. He’s been taking a lot of your punches. You know you caught a few winces from him even though he was trying to hide it. Your head bows as you catch your breath and Daryl brushes whatever hair that fell behind your ear. “Tired?” You meet his eyes. How does this man seem perfectly fine? You're all out of breath while he’s barely panting. “Just… gotta catch my breath.”

“Take as much time as you need, sweetheart.” His hands move up to your hips. “Not like I'm going to many places.” Ugh, you’re too exhausted to even have a dirty thought. Daryl watches you as you’re sitting on him, panting like a damn dog. Maybe he’s having some thoughts, maybe not. It’s hard to read his face. “Ya need some water?” As much as you’d love to take a break, you know damn well Daryl isn’t going to let you get him on the ground again. You swallow dryly as you shake your head. Your voice is pretty breathless. “M’no, just gotta take a sec to catch my breath. What about you?” That’s a stupid question to ask. The man looks like nothing has even happened to him.

His eyes rake over your body, making sure you’re actually ok before responding. “Could go for another round.” Seriously, fuck him. How dare he be perfectly fine while you’re dying over here. You know what? You shove your elbow down on his sternum. His stomach clenches and he groans as you slam your elbow down. Always his damn chest. He rubs between his pecs as he catches his breath. “What is-..... What is with you… and my damn chest?” You’re finally starting to catch your breath. You shrug and shoot you a quick innocent smile. “Easy to aim at.”

His hands find their place back on your hips now that he’s done rubbing his chest. He’s going to have a lot of bruises tomorrow. He laughs gruffly. “And here I thought you just had a thing for it.” Both could be true… You sit up straight, now having caught your breath. It honestly felt like you were going to flop over and die just now. How is he so in shape? Maybe he could teach you a thing or two about that because boy, do your lungs need it. “Are you sore?” You ask, knowing you did a number on his chest and ribs. He shrugs, fiddling with the top of your shorts. “Been through worse.” That’s not an answer you liked. You hope you didn't trigger anything for him. Though it didn't seem like you did. You’ve never seen Daryl smile as much as he has playing with you. You know Daryl could flip you over any second, and the thought is exhilarating. You want to see how long he’ll let you be in this position, though. “You look good like this. ~”

“I knew you wanted to see me like this, freak.” Daryl smirks as he looks up at you. He could admit, you look good like this too. But it doesn't last long before he’s flipped you over on to your back. You laugh as your hands rest on his chest. “Going to turn this into another lesson?” His hair falls around your face. “Nah, ya seemed annoyed with the headlock, so I thought we could just play now.” You shove Daryl’s chest, trying to get him off you. He doesn’t show any signs of pain except a few nose twitches. You hate how good he is at hiding when he’s in pain. He smiles as he looks down at you. “Not so fun now that the roles have been switched, huh?"

You laugh again. He loves hearing that sound, and he’s been getting to hear it a lot now. “No, I’m enjoying the view.” He shakes his head as he crawls off you and offers you a hand to sit up. He’s not going to keep you pinned down the whole time you’re supposed to be playing. Where’s the fun in that? “You’re such a fuckin’ weirdo.” You shrug, finding no offence in that. It’s true after all. Now that he’s sitting on his knees, you shove into his shoulder. There’s no intent in knocking him over again. You already had your fun with that. He laughs and shoves you right back. He’s still being gentle.

You shove him again, this time elbowing his ribs. You didn't put your full strength behind it since you know he’s sore. He grunts as you elbow him. “C’mon, don’t go easy on me.” He shoves you back, knocking you on your ass. You get up and tackle his back, wrapping your arms around his neck. Listening to his words, you decide to yank on his hair. He laughs loudly. “Fuckin’ cheater!” As he’s trying to throw you off his back, you can’t help but notice his shirt riding up. When your grip quickly lets go, he wonders what the hell you’re doing before he feels you pulling his shirt down, promptly covering his scars. You know how he feels about them. He looks over his shoulder with a look of silent appreciation. The fact he didn’t flip out on you or walk off without saying a word shows how he’s comfortable with you. “Wanna keep going?”

You shrug as you answer. “Yep!” You can tell how much Daryl cares about you by the way he keeps making sure you’re ok. He grabs you by your shoulders and tosses you onto the grass. Just as he’s starting to stand up, you scramble up, tackling his back once more to keep him on the ground. He grunts as you start punching his sides again. He’s going to get a broken rib at this rate. “Ya know the most sensitive places, don’t ya?” You rest your head on his shoulder as you answer. “Yea, you’re lucky I haven't kneed you in the nuts…. yet.”

Daryl can’t tell if that’s a dirty move you’d use. He sure as hell hopes not. He mumbles under his breath before knocking you off. “Smartass.” At Least he knows he doesn't have to worry about you handling yourself in a real fight. He playfully punches your sides before you can get up. It’s no fun if he doesn't get a few hits in. “Always block ya face, alright? It’s the most fragile and it ain’t exactly like you can fix ya pretty lil’ thang with surgery if ya get banged up.” You can’t help but smile as you tease him. “You think my face is pretty?” Fuck, did he let that slip? “I ain’t mean it like that.” He says sternly.

You laugh loudly as his small punches on your sides turn into tickles. You certainly weren't expecting that. He’s smiling and laughing along with you. “Ya gotta be prepared for anythin’ in a fight.” Your brows raise as you look at him. “Tickles!? Is that something I should worry about!?” He laughs as he leans his face down lower, closer to yours. He’s got you pinned to the ground, in between your legs. “With me, yeah.” You squirm, trying to get away, but your attempts are futile. “I didn't think of you as someone who enjoys tickling!”

His hands move down from your ribs, to your sides, which are even more sensitive. “Nah, just like hearin’ ya laugh.” You weakly shove his chest. “I’ve been laughing this whole time!” He can’t help but laugh more. “Then I like keepin’ ya on edge.” The punches and shoves to his chest are very weak, and it’s getting harder to breathe from laughing. “You're such a fucking asshole! Stop!” Daryl is taking note of your breathing. It’s fine to get air into your lungs so he doesn’t stop yet. You groan playfully as you keep laughing. He’s addicted to that sound. “Come on Daryl! Stop!” He ignores your demands, but his movements do slow down. He lowers his head, just above yours. “Why should I?” It’s so infuriating when he tests you like this. Your hands go to his wrists, but it’s not enough to get him to stop.

“Let me breathe!” You laugh out. He hums like he’s in thought. All of a sudden his tickles speed back up, making you thrash around. “Daryl!” After a moment more he stops, sitting up as he listens to your giggles slowly die out. He puts his hands on your knees as he sits between your legs. A smirk forms on his lips as he listens to your laughs turn into little pants. He’s actually learning a lot about your body as he wrestles with you. He makes a mental note of where you're most ticklish. He’s so going to use that against you.

Just when you catch your breath, you kick him in the stomach, knocking him over. It’s not hard enough to actually hurt or wind him, just enough to push him. A loud groan escapes deep from his throat. He stares up at the sky as he breathes. He really should have kept his guard up for that one. Now he’s laying here, wondering what the hell your next move is. You jump up and land right on his chest. That did not pair nicely with the kick to his stomach. Maybe you’re actually starting to wear him out. ‘Man, I better not be getting fuckin’ old.’ He thinks as he just lays there and takes it.

Just to prove to himself he’s not, he rolls you over. You laugh at the sudden move and he laughs as you try to do the same right back to him. Helping you out, he lets you roll him over. A couple of group members think you're fucking crazy, rolling around in the grass as they're out here doing chores. Daryl must be comfortable with you if he’s rolling around with you in front of the group, not giving a damn about who sees and what they think about him right now. Ain’t that cute?

“Are we just gonna keep rollin’ around like fuckin’ pigs, or are you gonna do something?” He teases with a smirk as he looks at you above him yet again. Your muscles are finally feeling sore. You can only imagine how Daryl’s feeling and he still wants to play? He notices the weariness in you, knowing you two can’t be playing for too much longer. You shove his face. “Shut up. I just needed a minute.” He huffs as he yanks your hand off his face. There’s a hint of concern in his voice, “Ya sure you don’t wanna end it here?” Honestly, you felt like you should have stopped a while ago but, who knows when you're going to experience this level of fun again, and you wanted Daryl to experience as much of it for as long as possible. You force a small smile. “Stop asking! I’m good!”

Do you think he wouldn't pick up your smile was forced? The weariness in your eyes? The slightly strained cheery tone? He knows you better than that, but pushes those thoughts down. Maybe you just want some more fun. It’s not like you’re in pain, just a little tired. “Just lookin’ out.” And with that, he rolls you off of him. As you start crawling away, too tired to actually run, he pulls you back by your waist. “Come on, don’t just run away.” He whispers, as he leans over your shoulder, adding a little more weight to your back. Laughing, you squirm out from under him before he can squash you. “I wasn't!” No, you were. You totally were. He laughs as he hugs your back to his chest, pinning you against him. “Sure as hell looked like it.” Grabbing and pulling on his arms, you try to release his grip. He laughs against your shoulder as he hugs you tightly. Damn, you should definitely ask for hugs from this man. This is one of the most comforting embraces you’ve ever had and it’s not even a real damn hug. A long laugh escapes your lips as you slump against his body. “You can’t keep pinning me!” He chuckles as he pulls you onto the ground with him.

Slipping away, you manage to crawl a few feet away from him, gaining a second to breathe before he’s on top of you again. “Didn’t I just say no running?” You punch his chest as you argue. “I crawled!” He hums in amusement as he grabs your wrists. “Still counts.” He says, tugging you up towards his body before dropping you against the grass. A breath leaves your lungs as you hit the ground. You sit up, pulling yourself away, then shoving into his chest weakly. The exhaustion is kicking in and he can tell. So, helping out, he allows himself to fall onto the ground. You fall with him, landing against the grass beside him, not putting up anymore of a fight. The grass feels soft enough to sleep on.

“Ya wanna get some water now? Been at this for a while.” You meet his eyes, trying to catch your breath, cheek pressed against the grass, looking absolutely drained. You can feel the soreness of your body settling and your throat seems to get dryer with each breath. You slowly nod and he stands up, lending his hand out for you. “Les’ get some wata in ya, then.” He pulls you to your feet effortlessly. He leads the way to the coolers, then tosses a bottle at you. You’re never taking a cold bottle of water for granted ever again. Daryl shoves your shoulder when you chug, making you spill some. “What the hell!?” You snap at him. He takes a small sip before responding. “Ya gonna make yaself sick doin’ that.”

You roll your eyes as you reluctantly take smaller sips before glancing over at him again. His chest is rising up and down deeply. He doesn't seem that out of shape as you. It physically hurts to breathe right now. It was probably the right time to end it. As you look over him, he’s looking over you for any injuries. “Y’ain’t hurt?” You pull the bottle away from your lips as you answer. “No, just sore.” He nods once before squeezing your shoulder. “Then ya rest now.” He says, before walking off before you get a chance to ask if he’s ok.

꩜…꩜…꩜…

Later that day, you find him alone, per usual. He’s sitting by himself around an unlit fire pit. You sit down next to him, handing him a bag of ice. You know he needs it. “Here. Got it from the infirmary.” A long satisfied sigh leaves his lips as he presses it into his ribs. That sound causes more of those thoughts. “Thanks.” He mumbles gruffly before adding, “Can’t believe I got my ass kicked by you.” A soft, amused sound escapes your lips. “You wouldn’t have if you used a bit more of your strength.” He laughs and shakes his head. “Nah, I still woulda. Ya lot stronga than ya look.” A small smile tugs at your lips. That, coming from Daryl, must be true then. “How bad is it?” You ask, hoping he may actually answer this time. He doesn’t but silently lifts his shirt just enough to show you all the yellow, purple, and green bruises that formed on his ribs. And there will be more formed by tomorrow. Knowing you got to mark Daryl up like that is hot, but you still feel bad. Looking away down at your hands, you mumble, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He says, just a bit louder than you. “I had fun for… the first time in ages. So….. thanks for that.” He shoots you a small but genuine smile and you can’t help but smile back. You could tell he was having fun. He wouldn’t stop laughing or smiling. It’s the first time you’ve seen him so genuinely happy. “So, when can I beat your ass again?” He tries to stifle a laugh. “Damn, let my bruises fade first.” You playfully shove your elbow into his side. He laughs and shoves you back. “Asshole.”

You sigh heavily, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m gonna have the best sleep tonight.” You’re beyond exhausted. You would have taken a nap, but you’re holding it till tonight so you can really pass out. Daryl grunts in agreement. That was quite the workout he just had. “Didn’t know I needed a little bitch to beat the shit out of me so I can finally sleep for once.” A small but tired laugh of amusement leaves you. “Happy to help, anytime.” Daryl leans his cheek on your head, closing his eyes for a brief moment. He’s being vulnerable.

꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…꩜…

I hate this part

#I FUCKING HATE ADDING TAGS #daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon #play fighting #the walking dead #twd #Fanfic #My italics didn't fucking work!!

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atlabeth · 1 year ago

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all of me | luke castellan

pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader

a/n: sooooooo i know that i said i would work on something else but this hit me and suddenly i could not rest until i wrote something for it so you're getting headcanons since i can't formulate proper thoughts. some of this is dialogue but most of this is pure stream of consciousness. im already kind of obsessed w them ?

wc: 3.7k lollll this got away from me but it was so much fun.

warning(s): parental death, fighting, normal royal stuff. fluff, angst, all that good shit

princess!reader and knight!luke

yeah

and they're childhood friends bc they grew up in the castle together

YEAH

luke is the son of a kingsguard and he wants to be just like his mom

his father is out of the picture (booo) and his mom never really talks about him but she’s raised luke the best she can

shoutout to may castellan, she was the first female kingsguard! and definitely the first to personally guard the king

you are the heir to the throne and the only thing you're sure of is that you want luke to be in your life

you basically spent all your time together because he was kinda the only one your parents would approve you hanging out with

most of the crownsguard don't have children and those that do have them live with their spouse outside of the palace, and your parents didn't want you spending time with the children of servants

and luke's mom is your father's closest friend because she's the king's personal knight and so everything’s basically already vetted and they don’t have to worry about you accidentally getting murdered by him

so you and luke basically spend every moment of your free time together!!

even when you’re not free tbh

sometimes you beg your tutor to hold your lessons outside so that you can sneak glimpses at the knights training and luke training alongside them

whenever he sees you, his face always instantly brightens and he will lose focus in whatever tf he’s doing because he’s only thinking about you now

and instead of either of you doing what you’re supposed to do, you just spend the whole time making faces at each other and trying to grab the other’s attention

after his mother tries (and fails) to get him back on track a million times and your tutor realizes that you’re never going to listen to her historical prattles they allow the two of you to talk for “FIVE MINUTES AND NO LONGER MY BOY” and your tutor is all “i ask that you do not delay our lessons any further, your highness”

and tbf you and luke could notttttt care less. you immediately join up and you start teasing him about his form and how he was holding his sword and he just makes fun of you for having to be a princess

“Your form is horrendous, Luke! How do you expect to beat anyone holding a sword like that?”

“At least I’ll be on the battlefield one day. You can bore our enemies to sleep with your recounts of Aureldan history.”

“Oh, I bet I could beat you right now. I’ve got royal blood in my veins.”

“And I’ve got knight’s blood in mine,” he says. “I’ve at least got a sword. That’s more than you have.”

You huff. “Mother says I have to learn propriety before I even think about picking up a weapon.”

“Do you want to hold mine?” he asks immediately, his eyes lighting up as he offers it over. “It’s just wood because Mom doesn’t want me to hurt myself, but that means it’s safe for you.”

you do. obviously.

You’ve got soft hands, untouched by the world, and the sword feels foreign in their grasp as you realize this is in fact the first time you’ve ever held a weapon. You cut it through the air a few times and Luke is grinning wider than ever

“I think the role of a warrior princess suits you,” he says.

“It is nice,” you muse as you turn it over in your hands, already growing used to the feeling of it.

“And you look great with it,” he says. “Powerful.”

“I’d give myself a splinter before I can do anything with it,” you retort as you hand it back to him. “It’s a nice thought, though.”

His eyes light up. “You should train with us sometime. My mom is the best at teaching— she’d teach you everything you need to know!”

You glance back at your tutor, who is very clearly eavesdropping, and you sigh as you look back at Luke. “Maybe in a few months.”

Luke’s mother calls his name and it’s obvious that your time is over. You hug each other and promise to meet up as soon as your responsibilities for the day are over, then go back to your respective duties.

Your tutor takes you inside because she doesn’t want anymore distractions, and you wave at each other like crazy as you’re walking back into the castle.

so yeah. you’re best friends and you have been since you first met as children, and though it is a battle for your betters to keep you on task if you’re near each other, you just light up when you see each other and it actually helps

You’re learning dining etiquette and if you get told that you’re using the wrong spoon again, you’re going to lose your mind.

luke is hurrying through the halls to catch up with his mother and you both catch a glimpse of each other.

your posture straightens, he stops in his tracks, and you both smile at each other. then luke’s mother calls his name again and he’s on his way again.

spoons aren’t that bad, you think

you’re mulling over history books in the library that make you want to fall asleep.

luke just happens to be walking past on the way to his chores, and when he spots you, he yells out your name and waves at you. you wave back, and you both stifle laughs as your tutor shushes you

suddenly, you’re not feeling so down.

Luke is training on his own out in the yard before dinner and he’s about ready to break his sword over his knee because he can not get this damned move right.

he hears your voice across the way and sees you, all dressed up and with your parents about to get into a carriage. you’re on your way to a ball, he remembers you telling him earlier, and he finds himself smiling.

You had been complaining about it, and Luke had told you to just think of the two of you hanging out whenever you were bored. You said you were already planning on it.

His smile widens. He’d be thinking of you too, wondering what it would be like for him to attend with you. Dressed in the same gaudy outfits as the rest of the court, having to go through the same dull niceties that you’d been raised on, listening to stories from other royals he couldn’t care less about.

Standing beside you as an equal.

Luke’s young, but he already doesn’t care for nobles and their court. But he thinks he would wear any amount of uncomfortable suits and listen to any number of dull proposals for you.

for the rest of the night, he trains better than he thinks he ever has.

and of course, you break the rules together. GOD HELP YOUR CHARGES YOU ALWAYS BREAK THE RULES TOGETHER

your tutor cannot count how many times you’ve slipped out of lessons and she’s found you in the halls talking with luke, him smiling brighter than she’s ever seen as he listens to you go on and on and on

your mother cannot count all the times you’ve talked about what you and luke did that day instead of describing to her any of the history or arithmetic you were supposed to be learning

May always keeps watch over her son, but she’s been known to turn a blind eye when Luke thinks he’s being sneaky to go off and see you.

and of course, sometimes you actually hang out when you’re allowed to hang out lol

you’ve run around every bit of the palace grounds together, you ride horses together (with parental supervision of course), and once you’re a bit older, you’re actually allowed to practice with luke and the rest of the knights!

typically, it’s a shorter session with May teaching the two of you, and typically, it ends with both of you ready to die because you’re just kids and even though Luke is a prodigy, you are sooooo bad at swordfighting. it’s honestly not even funny how bad you are at it the first couple of lessons

But May just pats you on the shoulder and promises to work with you until you’re as good as her.

(luke pouts and says he wants to be better than you. you forget that you’re holding a sword and just start complaining at each other)

(“you CAN’T be better than me luke I’m the princess”) (“YES I CAN MY MOM’S THE GREATEST KNIGHT EVER”) (“SHE PROTECTS MY DAD WHICH MEANS I CAN BE THE BEST EVER”) (“THAT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE”) (“YES IT DOES”) (“NO IT DOESN’T”) (“I’M YOUR PRINCESS YES IT DOES”)

(the lesson ends when May has to pry you two apart)

but we haven’t gotten to the knight part.

because it’s a bit sad.

what happens to may in pjo canon is awful but

May Castellan dies when you and Luke are sixteen. A month after your birthday, in fact. Four months after Luke’s.

(he’s always held those three months over you, especially as you get older.)

(it doesn’t seem to matter as much now.)

rumor has it throughout the kingdom that she slowly went insane and then fully lost it, ultimately dying in an attack against the king during a ball that turned out to be a set-up.

the only one who knows what really happened that night is your father as he was the only other person there at her death that still lives, but he refuses to talk about it, only saying that “Head of the Kingsguard May Castellan died a hero and shall be remembered as such”.

Luke… does not take it well

besides the king, he obviously spent the most time with his mother and it was obvious to anyone that she loved him with all her heart and wanted him to follow whatever dreams he may have had

she’s given a knight’s funeral and you are beside Luke the entire time, holding his hand or him leaning against you as you listen to eulogies or even just sitting next to each other because your presence is enough for him. it doesn’t matter what—you’re always connected in some way, and no one says a single thing.

he needs you, and you need him. it’s as simple as that. and no one dares to correct the princess when she’s icier than they’ve ever seen her.

You put on that front to protect Luke—you don’t want anyone bothering him, and you don’t want him to have to worry about you at a time like this.

Because you know he would. He always does.

When Luke gives his speech, barely able to hold back tears, he looks at you the entire time. he doesn’t tell you, but you’re the only reason he’s able to get through the day.

Luke becomes a ward of the royal family.

There’s no chance you’re letting him leave, and Luke doesn’t want to go either. The memories of his mother all around are painful, but he takes some small comfort that she’ll live on in Aurelda forever.

Your parents have no objection to it—he grew up in the palace anyways, and he can practically provide for himself. You wouldn’t have let them say no.

You’re thankful beyond words that Luke is still here. Because everything feels like a mess, and things are a little more manageable with him by your side.

Someone tried to kill your father. They killed Luke’s mother instead. Both of you are broken in different ways.

Obviously, this sparks the beginnings of war both in Aurelda and in Luke’s entire being.

but that’s a topic for another day.

May’s death changes your relationship.

She was his mother, obviously, but you were close to her as well. you could never forget every time she ruffled your hair and complimented your sword fighting, or every time she would acknowledge you in the midst of a crowd with a smile and a nod, or every time she would act like a mother and not a knight.

she had the best hugs in the entire kingdom.

But her death changes your relationship because Luke changes.

He’s angrier. His edges have all sharpened, honed by his own spirit. He softens when he’s around you, but to the outside eye he’s impenetrable. He thinks you’re the only one that understands him.

Others pity him, fear him, are jealous of him.

You treat him the way you always have. Like your best friend.

That’s all he needs.

And so Luke throws himself into his training, vowing to become the youngest kingsguard in Aureldan history to honor his mother’s memory. He wasn’t able to save his mother, and he needs to become strong enough to protect the ones he loves from anything.

(You don’t know it, but he thinks of you every time he closes his eyes and sees the night his mother died. He’s in the place of his mother and you’re in your father’s position, and Luke knows that he would sacrifice himself for you every single time.)

So you don’t have as much time for each other anymore. Luke is on his kingsguard mission, and you’re starting to come into your own as the Crown Princess of Aurelda.

You can’t sneak out of lessons anymore to go talk with Luke, because you’re starting to learn about the nuances of politics.

Luke can’t let you interrupt his training, because he’s on a warpath and he won’t be stopped before he reaches his goal.

You can’t neglect your responsibilities because they’re more than just etiquette or history lessons. War is going to come to Aurelda sooner or later, and you’ve got to be ready when it does.

You’re only sixteen, but neither of you are children anymore.

But you’re still best friends. Nothing can change that—it’s just changed the way you show it.

You take your morning walks with your mother past the training grounds, and Luke always smiles at you and salutes no matter what. You bow your head in a very refined, princess-y nod, and you continue on.

Luke makes sure he’s always the one that gets to deliver news to you, even going so far as to make deals with other servants and messengers just to make sure he gets to see you at least once a day.

Most of the time, you end up seeing each other at night. Just happening to end up in the kitchens at the same time for a midnight snack that results in hours of talking with each other. Bringing Luke to your balcony to look at the stars together.

Even some midnight training has occurred together, though you always end up a sweaty mess and having to make a bath for yourself because you can’t alert your servants. Luke says he likes you best when you have that vicious glint in your eye while you’re training with him.

Luke still has horrific dreams, and though he weathered them on his own for a while, one night he finds himself outside your door. When you open it, seeing his haunted eyes and disheveled appearance, you let him in immediately.

It’s not the first time you’ve slept in the same bed after nightmares, and you know it won’t be the last.

(You spent the whole week together after his mother’s death. Not even your parents could complain when they saw the change in both of you.)

And Luke does it. He completes his training, having become one of the fiercest and youngest warriors Aurelda has ever seen. Traditionally, knights are older, but an exception was made for Luke—he’s got the Castellan name and a childhood spent with the greatest knights in the kingdom to back him up.

You’re the first person he tells when he finds out, and your scream of pure joy must have echoed throughout the entire castle. You hug him tighter than he’s ever been hugged before, and for just a moment, in your embrace, he feels like you’re both kids again.

Weeks from his eighteenth birthday, your father knights Luke Castellan in an official ceremony.

Not just as a member of the kingsguard, though—he is sworn in as a knight, and as your personal bodyguard.

Your father didn’t tell you beforehand, and you thank a childhood of courtly influence to keep the shock off your face. One hand tightens ever so slightly into a fist, and you let it out just as quickly.

You can’t see Luke’s expression, kneeling and head turned downward. You would pay all the gold in the kingdom to know what he was thinking.

“Sir Luke Castellan.” Your father’s voice booms through the hall, and a shiver even goes down your spine. “Do you swear to serve Aurelda as her loyal knight, through war and peace, through riches and debt?”

“I do,” Luke says.

“Do you swear to protect the Crown Princess of Aurelda—” your father says your entire title, and for the fifth time you wonder how many middle names a princess needs, “—my daughter—with everything you have in you, until your dying breath?”

Your breathing stills for the slightest moment.

Luke doesn’t flinch. “I do.”

The thought of Luke dying for you is unimaginable. It’s something you’d never ask of him—you don’t think you could live in a world without him anyways. You know it’s what knights are expected to do—for king and country, my life for yours—but that’s for any member of the royal family—any member of the court.

Luke is assigned solely to your protection.

And he doesn’t even falter when he bonds his life to yours.

As soon as the ceremony is over and Aurelda has gained three new knights, you’re on your way to Luke. You don’t care if anyone else wants to talk with the princess, you don’t care if your parents need to tell you something—royal propriety be damned, you need to talk to Luke.

He doesn’t look surprised when you march up to him, but there’s already a different air about him.

Maybe it’s because in these past couple of years he’s absolutely shot up in height, maybe it’s because his insane training regimen has toned every part of him, maybe it’s because he’s done what no one else has done before, or maybe it’s just because he actually accomplished his goal.

But when he smiles at you, that crooked slant to his lips that always meant mischief when you were younger, it’s enough to make that train of thought immediately shut down.

“Princess,” he greets. “I think we’re going to be spending a lot more time together, these days.”

“Yeah,” you say, the warpath you’d intended to be on fading away almost immediately with his words (and that goddamned smile that will certainly be the death of you someday.) “Maybe this is our way to make up on all that lost time.”

“...I’d like that,” Luke says.

“Can I hug you?” you ask wryly. “Or is that unbecoming of a brand new knight?”

“I don’t think anyone will tell the princess she is doing something wrong,” Luke says.

So you do. You hug him, and he immediately wraps his arms around you, and you hate that you had any doubt that he would. You’ve always felt safe in his embrace even since you were children, and now that he’s four times as strong and much taller, you feel it more than ever.

He truly does look the part of a perfect knight. You remember the days of wooden sword fights and afternoons by the lake, wondering what your future awaited, but sure you would be together no matter what.

You feel like you’ve aged a century since then.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” you say as you pull away. “You’re incredible. I mean— you always have been, but this… It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. So I’m proud of you.”

Luke brushes his curls out of his face with a gauntleted hand, his smile turning a bit more genuine. “It means the world, princess. You are… one of the main reasons that I even made it up here. So I have you to thank.”

You feel your cheeks heat. “I haven’t done anything.”

“You’ve been you,” he refutes. “You’ve stood by my side through everything, and you’ve always been there when I need you no matter what. You’ve done everything.”

You’re thankful for the sheer sleeves of your gown, because now your entire body feels warm. And maybe that’s why you practically blurt the question out, but it’s been burning in your mind since the moment it happened.

“Did you know?”

He frowns. “Know what?”

“That you would become my personal guard,” you said. “You’ve wanted to be a part of the kingsguard since you were a child, and now…”

“Princess,” Luke says, “I asked your father for the honor.”

That throws you off. “What?”

“Do you think he would entrust your wellbeing to just anyone?” he asks. “It’s part of the reason I’ve been training so hard—I wanted to prove to him that I was worthy of the position.”

“Luke—” you start, but he shakes his head.

“War is coming to Aurelda whether we like it or not,” he says. “All I want is for you to be safe. This way, I can ensure it.”

“You said you would die for me,” you say. “You vowed it.”

“That is generally how knighthood works, yes—”

“Luke,” you interrupt forcefully. “I don’t want you to die for me.”

“The goal is for nobody to die,” he says wryly.

You cross your arms. “You know what I mean.”

“Your safety is my number one concern, princess,” he says. “That’s all you need to know.”

You stare at him. He stares back.

You win, because Luke sighs and shakes his head. “We don’t have to worry about that at the moment. Right now, you have to get back to change before you sit in on an advisor’s meeting with the king and queen.”

You frown. “How do you know?”

“I’m your guard,” Luke says. “It’s my job to know.”

“You were just sworn in!” you protest.

“And I am always prepared,” he remarks. Luke holds his hand out in a gesture towards the door. “After you, princess.”

You shake your head as you start walking. You hear Luke’s footsteps start soon after, much heavier than yours in full armor as opposed to your ceremonial dress. “You are ridiculous.”

“Which is also my job,” Luke muses.

and so luke becomes a knight, but not just any knight.

your knight.

good luck handling that crush on him you've harbored since childhood now.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan headcanon #luke castellan au #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #knight!luke #sadie writes

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shanklin · 1 month ago

Note

For the very sad realitivity falls au

I was thinking it really needed some comfort.

Which got me thinking about Soos, if Soos became like a son figure to Stan, maybe the opposite in realitivity falls?

Maybe Soos becomes like a father figure to Stan (dear lord that poor boy needs it especially with the whole Filbrick situation)

Stan: *sighs* Look I better go, I don’t want to burden you anymore than I already have.

Soos: Nah it’s fine dawg, c’mon, sit down with me. This cool new show is about to come on!

Stan: But, aren’t I selfish for wanting to spend time with you? Wouldn’t you rather do it with Ford?

Soos: Dude, you are being too hard on yourself. I want to spend time with you dawg, because you’re an awesome dude! *ruffles Stan’s hair*

Stan: *trying to hold back tears* I uh-have dust in my eyes.

Soos: There, there dude, let it all out. *hugging Stan*

Stan: *sobbing* I just want to be loved, but I—

Soos: I’ll be here for you

Selfish Shellfish AU - Masterpost

Rejoice, dear Anon! You’re getting out of prison early on good behavior!

Soos becoming a father like figure for Stan broke me. Haven’t stopped thinking about this since. I love it dearly.

This ask also made me realise a couple of things

I have no idea what Soos’ role usually is in Relativity Falls AUs

I don’t care. Don’t tell me. Soos is Soos. Maybe a tiny bit older than in canon. 30ish?

I imagine Stan to be like 15 in this for extra angst. He still hasn’t gotten a proper growth spurt yet and definitely has no drivers licence.

…I forgot what number four was. I was too preoccupied in outlining a fic in my head that I’m totally never gonna write. Don't look at the word count

Okay so, comfort? Sure! Dad!Soos! Perfect! Tonal shift with slight crack components incoming? More likely than you’d think!

Where did we leave off?

Filbricks dead, yaay!

Mabel, Dipper and Ford are currently having multiple breakdowns over how much they failed Stan.

And Stan? Stan’s on the run. He’s a murderer now and certain the police are after him and actually let’s say he’s right about that one. It doesn’t help that Filbrick had friends in the police force or at the very least used to pay them off on the regular.

One moment Stan stands above his fathers unmoving body looking at his hands - he really needs to wash his hands.

The next he's a state over in the middle of nowhere in a stolen car that's running out of gas with no money, no food and only the clothes on his back.

He’d curse himself for not taking supplies with him but what the point? He deserves this. He’s a murderer. A selfish, rotten, evil person. He should turn back and surrender. Get himself locked up and pay for his crimes.

But that would mean he’d have to face Ford and the rest of his family. They would come and judge him. See how bad he really is. He can’t do that. He can’t face them. He’d rather die than face their disgust and disappointment.

And yet somehow. Something in him still wants to live. The selfish part of him that refuses to shut up and let him be. That makes him do awful things and hurt others.

Everyone was right about him. So there is no point anymore in trying to be better. He might as well embrace it. It’s easier than thinking about Pa staring at him with dea-no no no no. That doesn't matter. Nothing matters except his own survival.

His car runs out of gas near the woods. It’s dark and cold and the wind howls in the distance. Stan's fight or flight instinct goes into overdrive. He desperately looks for a weapon to defend himself with. After a couple of minutes of frantic searching he finds a small pocket knife in the glove compartment. This will have to do.

There are headlights in the distance coming ever so slowly closer and Stan grasps the knife tighter.

Go away go away go away, Stan silently begs but the car comes to a halt behind him and a large man steps out.

Stan gulps and tightens his resolve. He's a criminal. A- a- murderer. He’s already done the worst thing imaginable to survive. And he will continue to survive.

Even if that means he has to hurt and kill others. Stan steels himself and decides to do the unforgivable once more. He will kill this man, take his car and money and only live for himself.

A knock on the window. Stan lowers it, ready to strike. One swift stab in the neck and it will alll be over.

“Sup little dood! Need some help there?”

Stan falls over, he drops the knife and stumbles back shaking.

The man chuckles and picks up the knife. This is it. This is how Stan will die. Killed in the middle of nowhere by a gopher like serial killer. No one will never know what happened to him

“Here you go dude. You lost your knife. You need to be careful with these things. Could’ve accidentally stabbed me or something.”

The man holds out the knife and Stan snatches it up and moves back further, holding it protectively over his chest.

“What- what do you want?”

Stan's voice is hoarse. He hasn't used it in days, he realises. And the last time he did, he was shouting before before-

“Saw your car parked here in the middle of these creepy woods and thought you might need some help.”

"Well, I don't. So f-fuck off.”

Stan flinches. It never ends well when he gives adults attitude. Shit. Shit, why did he do that?

Luckily the man doesn’t react to his mistake. Maybe he didn’t hear him?

“Aw dude. I’d feel bad leaving you all alone. Is your dad here somewhere?”

The man looks around for Stan's…dad. Stan's throat feels like sandpaper.

“No. He’s gone.” Stan whispers and the man's eyes soften.

“I’m sorry du-”

“Gone to get some gas!” Stan exclaims all of a sudden, shoving all his terror, anxiety and guilt into a dark corner in his mind. He needs to put on an act if he wants to survive.

“He’ll be back soon so you can just. Go.”

“Ah no. That’s alright. I’ll wait with you until your dad comes back. It’ll be great. I’ve got some snacks in my car and we can play I spy. See, I’ll start. I spy something green!”

“A tree?”

"Woah, Dude! You’re like super good at this.”

Is this guy for real? He’s clearly mocking Stan, only. Not. He seems way too sincere. Stan hates it.

“Well this was fun, but you should really go. Stranger Danger and all that”

The man's eyes widen in shock.

“Totally forgot! Sorry, Dude! I’m Soos.”

He holds out his hand. Stan eyes it suspiciously.

“You’re not going to leave are you?”

“Not until you’re safe. Can’t leave a kid like you out here all alone. Your dad, like, shouldn’t have done that. That’s not cool dude.”

Stan might be stupid, but he's not an idiot. The guy is most definitely gonna turn out to be a creep and/or serial killer. The moment Stan lets his guard down around him he’s done for. He should insist the guy leave or better jump out of the car and run away. As starved and tired as Stan is he’d be no match for a big dude like Soos, even if he uses his small pocket knife, but he could probably outrun him in the woods.

There is no way for Stan to come out of this alive.

Either he will piss the guy off by insisting he leave and get murdered or he runs into the woods, gets lost and dies of exposure far away from civilization.

His only other option is to wait with the guy and play his stupid games until he realises no one will come for Stan and he’s free to do as much axe murdering as he pleases.

No matter what he does. He’ll end up dead, abused and broken with no one to grieve for him. He’s sick and tired of feeling like this. Helpless. No, he needs to stay strong. Strong and selfish.

Stan takes the outstretched hand and shakes it firmly. Just like Pa taught him to do. The firmer your handshake is, the easier it will be to make a deal in your favor.

“Steve Pinington and actually I don’t think my dad will come back anytime soon. He probably got lost and is waiting for me in the next town over. Would it be okay if I hitch a ride with you?”

It was surprisingly easy to convince the man of his lie. Apparently if you get lost you should always stay exactly where you are until you’re picked up. Stan is pretty sure it doesn’t work like that for adults but he won't look a gift horse in the mouth.

New plan.

Make the creep think Stan is just a helpless, innocent and naive kid

Wait until he falls asleep and slit his throat

Take all his money and leave the country. Or something. Stans will figure it out later. Maybe he could steal a boat…

The drive is nice. There’s food, water and warmth. It makes his hands tingle. He didn’t notice how cold he was before.

Stan gets forced into playing silly road games and when his answers become slower and he feels his eyes droop Soos turns down the music and puts a blanket around him.

Stan tells himself he's just keeping up the act and will only pretend to fall asleep but is out cold a moment later anyway.

***

He wakes up with a scream and swings fist at the nearest object which happened to be the face of his kind of kidnapper.

A crunch. Blood. A body lying at his feet. His hands. He needs to wash his hands.

“Sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I’m sorry-” Stan can’t breathe. There’s blood on his hands. Where is he? He’s sorry.

“Hey, hey, it’s fine dude. I Shouldn’t have woken you like that. It’s just a nosebleed, see?”

Soos smiles and holds his hands up as the blood drips down his face, over his teeth and onto his shirt. It’s not a pretty sight. Stan looks away.

“You know, one time I tried to see how many hot dogs I could eat at once but I choked and pieces got stuck in my nose. I bled out sausage chunks for like a week straight.”

A weak chuckle escapes Stan's throat. “Eww that’s disgusting.”

Soos clumsily wipes off the blood from his face and holds out some fresh tissues for Stan. He takes them gratefully. It’ll have to do until they find a proper bathroom to clean up.

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s alright little dude.” Soos replies and ruffles his hair. Stan tenses up but lets it happen. He feels the phantom touch long after it’s gone and it takes all of Stan's self control not to trace it his head. He flashes in embarrassment. It felt…safe.

Oh, the guy really knows what he’s doing. Stan will do the world a favour by killing him.

***

To the surprise of no one Stan’s “lost dad” is nowhere to be found. They spend the whole day exploring every inch of the town and asking people if they’ve seen Stan's dad. Stan makes a game out of it, trying to see just how outrageous he can make the descriptions until people think he’s lying.

Soos never once questions his stories.

Eventually they have to give up their search and get ice cream instead. It's the best day Stan had in years. He feels sick.

***

Soos gets them a motel room and opts to sleep on the floor when it becomes clear that only single bed rooms were available.

His kidnapper is really bad at this, Stan ponders as he watches the man snore. At this rate he’s going to develop Stockholm syndrome and fall in love with him or something. Stan grimaces in disgust. Yep. That’ll do it. He needs to kill him now and proof once and for all that he can survive on his own.

He sneaks out of bed and quietly leans over the man, knife in hand. There’s drool on Soos' face and his nose looks swollen. Stan did that. He hurt him. And Soos didn’t care. He laughed it off with a silly story and distracted Stan until he could breathe again.

Soos grunts and Stan flinches. The knife falls out of his hands and onto the carpet, nearly missing Soos’ neck. For a moment Stan's heart stops and when it beats again it's racing. With shaking hands Stan pushes the knife into the farthest corner of the room and curls up next to Soos.

He failed.

***

The next morning he wakes up in bed all wrapped in a warm blanket.

Soos greets him but Stan isn’t listening.

It's all over. He can’t do it. It makes no sense. Why can’t he do to a stranger what he did to his own father, intentionally or not. He can't remember. It doesn’t matter. It changes nothing.

Stan is stuck. He knows, logically, he could just make up an excuse and escape, but he doesn’t want to. Soos feels - it's not safe. No one is safe. But he feels harmless and he's a good distraction. As long as Stan focuses on Soos won’t have to think about anything else.

“Hey, Soos.”

"Yeah?"

“I don’t think we’ll find my father here. He probably left town already. So, eh, can I just come with you?” Stan fiddles with his hands. They always look wrong. Always a finger short. “It’s to look for my dad of course. I’ll be gone before you know it. I promise I won’t be a bother and I can help out with things! I’m good at following orders and I-”

“Dude! Dude! Say no more. I’ve so gotchu. We’re totally the same. I’m also looking for my dad.”

“What?”

At Stan's befuddled expression Soos picks up the briefcase he's been carrying around and sits now next to Stan.

“You see, my dad left as well when I was little. Littler than you even and I’ve always wanted to meet him, but he never came. All I got were some postcards.”

Soos opens the briefcase and pulls out a card. Stan ignores it in favour of staring at the rest of the content in the case. Holy shit. That's a lot of money. Soos continues undeterred.

“Well, it’s always been my dream to play catch with my dad and I almost gave up on it but then I got this!”

Soos hands Stan a plain looking card.

“Son,

I’m in a bit of a pickle and I could really use some help. Meet me at this address and bring 50 grand with you. You’re the best, champ.

Love, Dad.”

Stan stares at the card. Then back to Soos. Then back at the card.

“You know this is a scam, right?” Stan waves the card in front of Soos who, stands up, grabs it and puts it back in without meeting Stan’s eyes.

“Perhaps,” Soos mutters. “But I still gotta try. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I mean I had my Abulita and she was great, but it wasn’t the same. And now she’s in heaven and I’ve got no one else left besides him. Maybe he needs the money for a fresh start and will come back home with me!”

Soos sniffles and rubs his eyes. “So yeah. Maybe it’s not the smartest thing to do, but I have to try.”

Stan hugs his knees and is quiet for a long moment.

“In my experience, money is the only thing that will make a dad like you, so it might work out after all.”

Stan peeks at Soos but it looks like his attempt at comforting the man failed. He looks even more heartbroken than before.

***

Despite Stan's failure Soos agrees to take Stan with him and even suggests their dads might be at the same place. Who knows. They could be part of a secret run away dad club and play a very long and drawn out game of hide and seek.

Stan manages to muster up a smile at the suggestion and helps Soos pack their things. Not that they have much to begin with. Most of Soos things are still in the car and Stan suddenly becomes acutely aware that he still only has the clothes on his back with him. He’ll need to find a way to steal some while Soos isn't looking.

They’re about to leave when Soos spots something in the corner of the room and moves to pick it up. It’s the knife.

“Here you go. We almost forgot it. Be careful not to lose it. You never know when it might come in handy!”

“Thanks…”

Stan almost tosses the knife out right then and there, but instead he puts it back into his pocket. Soos is right. He should stay vigilant.

***

The next couple of days pass by like a dream. Most of the time in the car is spent playing silly word games and arguing about music. Apparently Stan has the taste of an old man. Which is ridiculous. He just prefers the classics, which are classics for a reason! They won’t be forgotten in two weeks like Soos top 20 hits.

[When was the last time Stan listened to music just because he can? How come he’s feeling so strongly about it? Music should be just a way to attract customers and nothing else. Certainly not fun. STOP HUMMING BOY]

At some point the car breaks down and Soos has Stan help him with the repairs. He makes a show of opening the hood and explaining what he’s doing.

It’s awkward and the nervous energy Soos gives off as he keeps checking if Stan is still listening puts him on edge.

He briefly wonders if Soos is trying to place a bomb inside, but then he holds the tools out to Stan and asks him to give it a go.

Confused about the whole thing Stan does as instructed and finds himself grinning as the engine roars back to life.

“Well done!” Soos cheers and holds his palm out into the air. “Up top!”

Stan blicks and lightly taps the hand in a high six, blushing at the praise.

Soos throws an arm around Stan and guides him back into the car.

Maybe this isn’t a dream. Maybe the last three years were just a bad nightmare and he’s actually been travelling with Soos and having the time of his life, while Ford is off studying weird stuff with Grunkle Dipper.

So Stan pretends he’s just on a fun extended road trip with his friend Soos. It’s great! They eat all the junk food they can get their hands on, sing loudly to bad songs, stay up and sleep as long as they want to and visit every bad tourist trap they come across.

Those are Stan's favourites! The attractions are clearly fake and nonsensical but also the best things Stans ever seen!

Some are just a normal object but big while others try a bit harder to keep your attention with fake curiosities and stories.

There even was one Tax Education Center and Fun Park where you learned everything about the history of taxes and how to file them correctly. Or how to avoid them, if you’re like Stan and know how to read between the lines.

Eventually, Stan managed to piss off another kid hellbent on becoming the most esteemed IRS agent the nation has ever seen.

The fist fight that ensued will be retold for generations to come!

Or at least got them both a lifelong ban from the museum. Stan forgot how much fun fighting was when the opponent is not double your size and responsible for your basic needs.

He leaves the kid with a short “See ya!” and starts running as the kid shouts after him in rage.

“I won’t let you get away with this, Steve Pinington! Mark my words! THIS ISN’T OVER!”

Stan is full on belly laughing when he meets up with Soos.

“Made a new friend?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Stan grins through his split lip. That felt amazing.

***

“Here Soos look!” Stan exclaimes as he shows off his fake abominations that he made out of junk from a nearby trash can.

This tourist trap thing is easy!

He gives Soos the grand tour around the little stand he built on the car and makes up fantastical and true stories of wonder and mystery about the items and tops it all off with the little broken toaster he found. He gave the toaster some cardboard eyes and legs that move with the help of hidden strings and voilà!

The Footbot 9000!

It even talks! Stan’s bad attempt at ventriloquism earns him some snorts and a wonderous “Woah, mommy mommy it speaks!” from the little toddler at the front of the crowd.

Wait. When did that happen? Where did all the people come from?

Stan looks around in alarm and finds Soos farther in the back watching him with glistening eyes. Is Soos crying?

Stan needs to get out of here but there's no good opening and then clapping starts courtesy of Soos.

With no escape in sight Stan takes a bow and thanks his audience.

“How much for the Footbot?” The mother of the toddler asks.

“30 Bucks.”

“10”

“20”

“Deal.”

One firm handshake later and Stan is the proud new owner of a crumpled 20 dollar bill with more to come as more suckers have already shown interest in some of the other junk he put out.

In the back there are people whispering and pointing at Stan. He better hurry up and get out of here before he gets them kicked out of town for selling broken toasters and literal trash.

***

“You know I think I’ll open my own tourist trap in the future” Stan says and takes another bite of his burger. “That was fun.”

“You were amazing! I was totally entranced by your wondrous tales of mystery. You’re like a genius at this, dude!”

A genius? Him? Stan’s not a genius.

Then agaaain. Ford is supposed to be a genius and he wouldn’t be able to put on a show like this.

A giggle escapes him and he kicks his legs under the table.

He can’t wait to tell Sixer and see his dumbfounded expression. Stan the genius. HA! That'll show him for staying home and missing out on the road trip of a lifetime!

***

Stan hands over the money he’s earned as soon as they arrive at the motel. Stan did so well today. He’s still giddy about it.

He found himself a plan for the future, made money AND got praised. The day couldn’t have gone better.

It’s almost a shame he has to go to sleep. But alas. Them's the rules. With a quiet hum under his breath Stan starts to get ready but is stopped by Soos, who is still holding the money.

“What’s up?”

“You don’t need to give me this.” Soos looks pained.

“I don’t understand. What else am I supposed to do with it? The room has already been paid…”

“No, little dude. You can keep it for yourself. Your company is payment enough.”

Stan shakes his head. This isn’t right. Soos is taking care of things so Soos gets to keep all the money Stan makes. It’s only fair.

“No! You keep it. I don’t want it”

“It’s fine dude here” Soos takes Stan’s hand and pries it open trying to return the bills. They fumble around and Soos won’t let go forcing it back into Stan’s hands. Stan can’t have the money! It isn’t right. But Soos is stronger than him and refuses to let it go.

“It’s yours. I don’t want it!” Stan repeats, runs to the bathroom and turns on the shower to cancel the noise from the outside.”

Stan needs to pay Soos back for taking care of him. He already wasted so much money on Stan. On food and clothes and sightseeing. Oh. Oh no. Was the money not enough? That's why he didn’t want it, right? It was basically an insult. Here I give you two drops of water back so forgive me for tuning the ocean into a desert and wasting it all on me.

There’s a knock on the bathroom door. Stan flinches with every bang.

BANG

“Just come in!” Stan shouts to make the noise stop.

The shower turns off and in the absence of water pouring down on him he becomes acutely aware of the wet clothes sticking to his body, dragging him down.

Soos wraps him in a towel.

“I’m sorry dude for pushing. I’ll keep the money for now and we’ll talk about it later, okay?”

Stan nods and hopes later never comes.

Soos gets him a change of clothes, helps him dry up and guides him to bed. Stan lets it all happen. He’s too tired to think and following orders is easier. More familiar.

Stan falls asleep to a comforting hand stroking his hair.

***

Life is great! Stan decides as he jumps out of bed the next morning with renewed vigor. Yesterday evening was just a bad dream and he’s ready for a bright new day.

Who knew food, sleep and good company was all you needed to be happy?

Soos throws him an odd look before leaving to get them some breakfast.

Stan shrugs it off and turns on the TV. Soos is a weird guy so weird looks aren’t out of the ordinary.

He flips through the channels not looking for something particular. It’s been a while since he last had time to sit down and watch something.

He’s about to give up and do something else when the picture on the news is stopping him dead in his tracks.

It's him. It's Stan.

15 year old Stanley Pines wanted for questioning in relation to the murder case of Filbrick Pines. The authorities ask the public to be vigilant as he is suspected to be armed and dangerous.

There's even a reward out for tips leading to his whereabouts.

The world around him shatters.

His little game of make belief turns into shards cutting into him and leaving nothing but sharp and cold reality behind.

Just what the hell has Stan been doing?

A fun road trip? Making plans for the future? Is he actually insane?

He fucking killed his dad. Let him bleed to death on the kitchen floor as he just watched in silence.

Exactly like he planned to do to Soos.

There is no future for Stanley Pines. Or Steve Pinington. Or any other name he’s going to come up with in order to trick people into liking him for a short while.

The moment Soos finds out what Stan has done it will all be over. Soos will be just like the rest of his family and see Stan for what he really is. A rotten and selfish child. A murderer. Someone not deserving of the love and care Soos showed him.

Maybe he can trick him into believing it’s some other child on the news. Soos is pretty naive sometimes. He could make it work!

Stan shakes his head.

No. Stan is done pretending.. Eventually someone.will recognize him and then Soos will be in trouble as well for harbouring a criminal.

Steps in the hallway. No time to think. Stan needs to escape. Now!

He puts on his shoes, grabs the jacket and Soos’ briefcase and sprints out of the door.

If the money goes to waste on a good for nothing criminal anyway it might as well go to Stan instead. Really he's doing Soos a favour.

Someone runs after him but Stan is faster.

“Dude, wait! It’s alright, don’t go. Stan, STANLEY WAIT!

Stan is already out of town before he realises that Soos called him by his real name.

To be continued

This was supposed to be just a quick summary or a couple of bullet points about how Stan and Soos could become family in this AU.

And it was also supposed to be a bit more unserious and ha ha, so what if Stan tried to constantly kill Soos and couldn’t get rid of him. But it turned out quite different and not as bullet pointy as I set out to do.

I’m still a little bit in denial about that. But Stan is in denial for most of this as well. So it fits.

I wanted to completely finish it before posting but that’s gonna take too long and I've got no time. So for now have a sad ending for the sad relativity falls AU.

Don’t worry though. It will have a very sweet happy end. With lots of comfort. Maybe.

But for now let's all imagine Stan once again all alone and on the run :D

#Selfish Shellfish AU #gravity falls #stanley pines #soos ramirez #relativity falls #the very sad no good very bad relativity falls au that has no name because i didnt think i'd need one #i'm taking suggestions tho #usual disclaimer that i just posted a simple idea and everyone is free to make up their own stuff #id love to hear about it #it could go so many ways #tw child abuse #implied at least #attempted murder #death mention #but the most important thing for this is of course my secret otp that only the cool people know about 😌

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manikas-whims · 10 months ago

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how Xavier from Love and Deepspace will react when he finds out you're on your period..

Xavier realizes its the first time you haven't arrived at work on time. It concerns him deeply and he decides to call you on the phone.

You pick up the phone from the nightstand, receive the call and speak groggily due to the ache in your limbs.

“Xa..vier? What is it?”

On the other end, his eyes narrow in concern. “You don’t sound alright.”

“Ohhh its just..my stomach and thighs ache.. especially thighs..” Your eyes are watery as you speak. All this ache is making it harder for you to even have a simple phone conversation.

“But I'm okay..its just that time of the month, you know!” You attempt to make your best imitation of a chuckle to ensure everything is good.

Yet the line has already been disconnected.

At the workspace, Jenna watches Xavier already pulling on his white leather jacket and running out of the building.

[minutes later]

You hear your phone buzz again. Without even bothering to check the caller ID, you answer it with slight annoyance. “Who’s speaking!?”

The voice on the other end is familiar and calm as ever. Not reacting negatively to your words, Xavier says. “It’s me. I'm here at your place. Do you think you can open the door?”

You know he's only trying to be kind but you grumble anyways. You can't help it. “Xavier I’m not that weak! No girl is!”

You don't bother changing clothes and remain in your oversized shirt as it's more comfortable that way. And with little difficulty and a lot of ache in your body, you open the door to prove your point, staring up at him with your weary eyes.

He simply shuts the door as he walks in and hands you a package. “I bought some pads, and heat packs for your belly. Just in case you needed extra.”

You blink slowly, all the rage ignited by your period slowly fading in the face of his honesty.

“Come on, ” He beckons, heading upstairs towards your bedroom. “Or would you prefer I carry you?”

Mortified at the idea of being treated like a little girl, you stomp after him back to your room.

There, he guides you to lay down and sits at the edge of the bed, by your legs.

“Rest. I’ll be here for you. Always.”

Usually you would've tried teasing him but you don't wanna strain your body by speaking anymore. So you simply give in to the tempting softness of the mattress and close your eyes.

A moment later, you feel something glide along your leg, all the way up to your thigh before gently yet firmly grasping it.

Your face heats up, flushing a light shade of pink as you realize they're fingers. The same long fingers which you've seen Xavier wrap around his sword during your missions together.

Now for some reason, those very same fingers are holding your thigh. You feel the muscles in your leg tensing. So does he, and looks at you.

“Xavier you— what are you doing?” You squeak out, a hand over your eyes cause its just too embarrassing to look directly at him.

His hand doesn't even budge. “I’ve heard that during menses, women's thighs ache a lot. I was just trying to give yours’ a massage.”

Then he raises a brow, a lopsided smile curving upon his lips. “What did you think I was up to?”

“Ehhh!!” You shake your head, far more embarrassed now (if that was even possible).

“Nothing! I was just shocked when you suddenly touched me.”

He nods in understanding. “Pardon me for not asking permission before touching you.”

Now you shake your head even more, the aching muscles completely forgotten due to how embarrassed you feel for even daring to imagine something naughty at such a time.

“It's okay.” You mumble softly. “And I’m sorry for getting mad at you.”

He responds with a proper smile.

Then, his fingers begin pressing into your thigh, gently massaging along the entire leg.

“Now rest.” He commands and you close your eyes for there's no reason to deny his aid. You feel the tense muscles in your legs gradually relaxing, his care lulling you into a state of slumber.

And just as you feel sleep blessing your form, you mumble. “Xavier?”

“Mm?” He replies.

“Thanks for this. And for coming to see me.”

“No problem.”

Its been a while since I wrote any Character x Reader HCs so please bear with my errors. i love feedback so don't hesitate!

AND THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

Rafayel and Zayne version coming soon!

» MASTERLIST «

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #xavier x reader #xavier love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #xavier x mc #love and deep space imagines #l&ds #l&ds xavier #l&ds x reader #love and deepspace fanfic #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace headcanons #xavier l&ds #xavier x you

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months ago

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Diabolical 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, extreme profanity, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Billy Butcher

Summary: your neighbours has some strange friends.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Down-trodden. That’s a good word to use. One you’d find in a particularly eloquent novel. It’s how you feel. Caught in the rain, missed your connection, and walking six blocks just to get back to your building. Down-trodden, defeated, and deflated.

You come up to the door of your building, trying to unhook the end of your key from the ring. Before you can get a handle on things, the door flies open and you barely move out of its way. Your keys hit the ground and a dark figure swoops to snatch them up. Not him.

That man stands, the loud one, the rude one, and jangles your keys. You reach for them and he keeps them just out of your grasp. You frown and rescind your arm.

“Sir, please--”

“Well, ain’t you the cat the river washed up,” he snickers. “Look at ya. Down-right sad, ain’t ya? What’s a matter? Did the sun not shine at ya majesty’s order?”

“Sir,” you snip. “I am not in the mood--”

“Are ya ever, love?” He chortles again, dangling the keys higher.

“I’m asking nicely, please, give me my keys.” You make yourself as big as you can but still feel tiny before him.

“Please and...” he drawls.

“Thank you,” you try to grab the keys, hopping to snag them, but he manages to evade you. You huff, embarrassed at your own effort.

“Ain’t that cute. Look much smaller out here without them walls to hide behind, Don’t ya?” He twirls the ring around his finger.

You look away and frown, “look, I apologise. It was never meant to offend you. I only hoped you might have some consideration and not make so much noise. I was mistaken to think you could care.”

“Ah, now, you’re gonna make me feel bad,” he taunts.

You turn to him and shrug. What more can you say or do? His smirk fades just a little and his dark brows draw together. He clears his throat and lowers his hand.

“’ere ya go then.” He offers them.

Cautiously you reach out. Your hand closes around them, brushing his fingers, and he lets you have them. Warily, you pull back.

“Was only playin’,” he winks. “Lookit, I’ll even be a gentleman and hold the door for ya.” He moves out of the way and keeps his hand on the door, “there ya are, proper queen, then.”

You don’t know if he’s mocking you still or not. More likely he is. You hold your tongue. You just want to be done with today and him. You’re only recourse is to ignore him. It might get him off your back. You can handle a bit of shouting in the hall.

You step forward and pass him. He looms, bouncing on his heels, and you hurry as you approach the stairs, “eh, never saw ya from behind. Not half bad.”

He cackles before he lets the door go and it slams at his departure. You cringe. You should have expected something. You carry on up the staircase and keep your head down as you near your apartment.

You go inside and toss the keys. You drop your bag as you kick off your shoes and traipse around to the kitchen. You put on the kettle and plant your elbows on the counter.

The buyer didn’t take as much as you negotiated but you couldn’t say no. You had to take what they offered. It’s enough, but you were hoping for more. You did the repair just as they wanted but everyone’s always changing the terms. No one listens to you. Just like that man! You’re tired of feeling so helpless.

And why does he have to be so crass? Why did he have to humiliate you like that? You dropped your keys and he couldn’t just let you have them. No, he had to make you perform like some puppet. Oh and then he had to be sure you know how nice he is.

You don’t think you hate him; you just hate how people treat you. You pride yourself on being polite, on being empathetic as best as you can, on making yourself as little as possible so you’re not in the way. The one time you speak up for yourself and it backfires. Well, you won’t be doing that again.

#billy butcher #dark billy butcher #dark!billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #the boys #drabble #series #diabolical

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thatguythatdrawsalot · 2 months ago

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Weiss - Returning Home Design Critique.

Can you guys tell how much I like drawing Weiss compared to drawing Blake by the poses alone? Yeah, me too. I’ll do better starting now. I’ve been doing Blake dirty so she’s definitely someone I will come back to with more effort in the future.

RWBY Archives

Okay let’s hop into the archives, been covered in DUST for a good week- so the designers wanted to put Weiss in a high class outfit that made her look good at home and during her fancy parties whether it’s a short skirt or a long dress. I think they nailed it! She’s the Schnee Dust Company’s heiress and conglomerate at the time she was shown with this outfit on. I adore the sapphires on her, and the fact her jewels around her neck make it look like a fancy collar to symbolize Weiss stuck in her dad’s control is a good ol Show Don’t Tell example. It’s a really good performative dress that serves the two functions of being stuck at home and needing to sing in a concert…

Fucking sucks it doesn’t serve it’s purpose on being on the road to go find Winter in Mistral! That’s because it wasn’t meant to, the description didn’t want this outfit to be a battle attire at all yet THIS was the outfit they wanted her to keep throughout her journey up to Atlas’ return. Yang can get a new outfit after leaving home but not Weiss? Are you kidding? Put ugly colored leggings and a dull red scarf all you want to jazz it up in being practical, it still looks downright ridiculous once she leaves home with this outfit still on.

It doesn’t feel like she took her journey seriously in finding Winter, this looks like a singer going on a world tour but a tragic crash happened and now she has to do everything she can to make it to her show without being late. A good spin off series idea for Remnant but not for Weiss’ character appearance.

Hair

I forgot to make this “Hair Section” clear; I talk about both the HAIR and the MODELS. When it comes to Weiss’ model, I think it’s fine, the jump to Maya didn’t drastically make her look off compared to the other girls but there’s an issue I’ve heard other people talk about when it comes to Weiss’ model. I didn’t notice it until Volume 7 but it started in Volume 4 apparently… the bust size. Now I’m a dude so I won’t talk about it that much, I just wanted to shed light on it and give my own input? Personally, I thought she was fine, still looked the same to me, but in Volume 7 and beyond it’s much more obvious.

Now for her hair this is a nitpick and something I would’ve said in a Design Critique of Weiss’ Vale Outfit but I don’t think I’ll ever get around to it unless it’s a commission- but for her hair… I don’t get the symbolism. I just don’t. In the Character Short it’s in a ponytail, perfect symmetry, but then it cuts to her ponytail on the side. Is it a symbolism of defiance? Wouldn’t Jacques correct Weiss in having her hair be perfect center than on the left? And this is me coming to my own conclusion, I don’t know if this is canon or me grasping at straws for the reason of her changing her hairstyle. I don’t get the hype but this is just a nitpick.

Primary Color - White?

I’ll give them this, they do the “Hiding Her True Self” better for Weiss than for Blake. Weiss isn’t herself, she’s hardly wearing white and that’s okay for what she’s going through. My issue is that this is a visual medium where color is important. I get that gray is a depressing color that WORKS for Weiss’ mood of being miserable and depressed… but so does pretty blue! In every poster for the new volume and promotional material they got this girl in the prettiest shades of blue that I would’ve loved to see in the show proper than dull gray! Why are they feeding me lies with the colors??? Depression Blue is more visually pleasing to see than Lifeless Gray, they’ve admitted it themselves with how they present Weiss on their art and even in the former Amity Mobile Game!

Positives?

I can’t really call it a positive when I say the outfit looks best in one location, being her house. It’s everything I love with everything I hate, it shows me what she’s like at home, not what she’s like afterwards so why insist she wears this after leaving home?

Redesign

I hate Ciel Soleil and the Ace Operatives' existence because it makes designing an outfit tricky for Weiss to make sure she doesn’t look like Ciel or have too similar of a color palette to the Ace Ops. Although, I think I did good. An outfit she can wear while on the search for Winter in Mistral. She wears this AFTER leaving Atlas the second time. Red is still restricted as that color to me symbolizes Freedom, but I wouldn’t say she’s free just yet until she’s reunited with her loved ones such as her teammates, but the thought counts so instead there’s a tiny red earring than some fancy jewelry. I also got rid of the tiara again, she’s not the heiress anymore and she doesn’t need it.

I do think it’s rather… boring? Like the skirt is just too plain, could’ve done a better pattern at the end of it than a black line across. The puffy sleeves also have been confirmed to look like poo given Ruby’s own puffy sleeves, but a boy can dream that RWBY makes puffy sleeves look good in the Maya engine. I also think the corset is plain as frick- really I think this redesign is just too plain, maybe simplicity was too much for this one.

Shout out to @storm-ismyusername they inspired me to actually play around with color variations from blue which is popular on Weiss, to Periwinkle which pushes the ice theme too, and Light Blue to go with her eyes.

Conclusion

Said it before and I’ll say it again “Hate has won over love.” This outfit would’ve been on a Top 5 Best Weiss Outfit for me if it just got stuck in solely being worn in the Schnee Manor, it had everything I love for a character trapped in home in which the outfit is just for show, not for the profession she desires instead. An outfit that tells you that she’s unhappy. Instead this girl forgot to pack a battle outfit when going to find her sister or the budget was cut in making a new design for her that was more appropriate for her journey. An unnecessary short skirt, bedazzled jewels, fly-off heels and restrictive looking sleeves made of the thinnest material with the ugliest shades of gray ever is something never to be worn when fighting monsters on Remnant. This outfit did everything I love for a defeated character before it did everything I hated in a combat outfit that the show runners insisted the outfit become when it originally wasn’t. This hurts because I DID love it at one point, but now it’s just become nonsensical.

But of course, it’s just my opinion. If you love this design or hate the design, please share your opinion. I’d love to hear it! :D

#rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #rwby redesign #rwde

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mischiefmaker615 · 2 years ago

Text

Purrfect

Rating: PG-14

Summary: There was something very strange and familiar with the cat you decided to take in..

Requested by: @Laer111ee

‘’I swear- every time I’m here, that cat is always starring at you.. its kinda creepy’’

Your best friend turns your attention over to the couch where the black cat perched in an almost to-proper position with its striking and.. intense green eyes looking into your soul. Its tail flicked ever so slightly and even with the door open to your apartment where you both stood, he didn’t make a single move to dash out. Looking back at your friend, you merely shook your head with a light laugh and a wave of the hand.

‘’you mean every time as in aka, a week? He probably needs more time to adjust or something, he might be to scared to move much.’’

‘’well in any case, perhaps he would be a good source of comfort since ..what happened today..’’ her light demeanor changed back to concern as she grasped your hand. ‘’are you sure you don’t want me spending the night?.. I hate leaving you feeling like this.’’

You shook your head with your face doing a good job at hiding your held-back emotional state. ‘’I’ll be fine, really. My boss is just being an asshole, nothing new.’’

‘’yeah but.. he can’t possibly think you can do all that stuff by yourself.. not without going crazy with stress and-‘’

‘’I can handle it, promise’’ you reassured her, masking your irritation of the topic as she sighed and nodded, taking a step back with a small wave.

‘’okay.. I’ll see you next week then Y/N, take care of yourself..’’ she smiled before you finally closed the door.

Taking a deep breath, you rested your forehead on the door with your eyes closed, trying to keep your mind from going there; but it did. The tears began to fall as you thought of the turn of events that unfolded in such a short amount of time, you never really got a chance to process it until now. Avoiding the situation entirely was easy.. but not when your alone with your mind.

Your boss lost a lot of employees already from various reasons, so not only do you have to cover all of their shifts and work, but he decides to degrade you for not getting things done fast enough or well enough.. quit? With what other job? bills are a thing in this world and this world is an expensive place. You could handle the work if you really push yourself.. hard.. but the way he humiliated and treated you was your tipping point. It was good money though.. but at what cost now.. your mental state.

You punched at the door, pretending it was him before turning your back on it and heading to your room. Not even bothering to plop on the bed, you sat on the ground against it with your knees to your chest, burying your face as you cried.

‘’why do you cry love?”

The low, silky voice came out of no where, causing you to look up to find its source and got pierced with a familiar gaze. A man with pale skin, raven black hair and an attire containing a mix of green, black and gold gazed upon you with a concerned look on his face. His striking blue eyes dared you to lie at him and something from the stare alone seemed.. recognizable somehow.

How the hell did he get in, you didn’t know. Who the hell he was, you couldn’t tell yourself either- no matter how familiar he seemed to be. Most of these questions didn’t bother to leave your lips as they parted with silence. For some reason, you felt no danger from the strange man before you- perhaps you were trying to process his question rather than wonder why he didn’t threaten you for money or whatever.

‘’why do i.. what?’’ you stutter out, already feeling like an idiot as your fingers gripped the carpet beside you, trying to shy away from him.

‘’you weep with deep emotion darling and you seem to be in fine health so my only conclusion would be that someone out there had to have hurt you. At least, from what I pieced together from what your friend was saying.’’ He explained, his voice gentle as his eyes never left yours as he remained in his crouched position before you.

‘’my.. friend?- how could you possibly know- why do you even-‘’

‘’care?’’ he finished your sentence with a smirk and sighed as he seemed to study your features, his eyes slipping down below your neck once or twice before flicking up to your orbs again. ‘’because in my low moment about a week ago up to now, you’ve shown me kindness. Its only right if I show you the same.’’

You blinked at him as you tried to understand what he was saying. You.. helped him for a week? He over heard your friend.. that gaze looked to damn familiar- no.. he couldn’t possibly.. but his smirk seemed to show that he understood what you were thinking. ‘’your-‘’

‘’I believe you’ve called me by the name of ‘cat’, but if you wish a proper name, Loki will do just fine.’’

‘’Loki..’’ you breathed as you slowly raised a hand and wiped your cheeks, almost embarrassed at how you presented yourself while your mind tried to process that he was the very creature that you had been caring for for about a week. At least you had that much time to process since it was clear that this.. rather attractive man was not here to harm you- he probably already would have if that was his intention. ‘’being shown kindness honestly won’t help right now unless you plan on killing my boss.’’ You say with mild sarcasm but your body tensed when Loki nodded.

‘’that shouldn’t be a problem-‘’

‘’no!- I mean.. that won’t be necessary.. even if that bastard deserves a little pain..’’ you sigh and look away from him.

‘’what may I be able to do then love?’’ he said gently, a hand slowly moving to your chin to turn your face to look at him again, movements slow as to not spook you.

Gods his eyes were gorgeous.. ‘’nothing unless you know of a way to help me forget..’’ you sigh, your eyes threaten to tear up over the sensitive topic you tried so hard to ignore before your body froze.

His lips were soft as they suddenly and very gently pressed against yours. His hand remained on your chin while the other supported himself as he leaned forward against your knees that prevented him from getting closer, so he worked with what he could get at. The sudden action made your mind blank, focusing on only feeling as your eyes slowly closed and told yourself this had to be a dream. An emotional overload that left you exhausted and dreaming realistic scenes that couldn’t take place in real life.. which is why you kissed back. Hell, if this was a dream, then why not enjoy it. because.. come on, your cat becoming a person.. there was no way in hell..

You feel Loki’s slender hands rest against your knees as he used gentle pressure to begin spreading them, his thumbs rubbing pointless circles as he deepened the kiss by being able to lean forward more before he pulled away briefly with his forehead pressed against yours.

‘’I might not be able to help you forget entirely, but allow me to help you forget for at least a blissful moment..’’ he breathed, his eyes studying yours with a hushed tone before his lips took yours in a more passionate kiss. He kissed you, ready to stop if you wanted him to but you made no moves to stop him.

He was right, and it was working. Your arms wrapped around his neck while your legs parted for him to move closer, his arm snaking around your waist while his other ran down your side and down the side of your thigh to pull your leg against his waist. His tongue ran across your bottom lip and you were happy to oblige before he soon had his tongue massaging yours.

Moaning against his mouth, you felt your body relax against his while your hands ran down his chest, fingers studying and trying to figure out how to find an opening to his labyrinth of an outfit before you felt him smile against your lips. You resisted the urge to whine but pulled away enough to give him pleading eyes.

‘’alright darling, only because you asked so nicely..’’ he teased with his voice almost above a whisper before a bright green seemed to sparkle over the both of you. You almost felt a tickle before you looked down at the both of you once the light was gone, to find you both in your under garments and Loki’s eyes already drinking in your beautiful body with hunger.

Your eyes flicked up to his with slight nervousness but enough confidence to want this while your arms wrapped around his neck ‘’help me forget..’’ you whispered and his arms lifted you up onto the bed.

‘’as you wish darling..’’

Your eyes snapped open to sudden alertness, your body even flinching as if someone shook you awake.. but no one was there. You could tell you were on your stomach, in bed, with the morning sun peaking through your blinds and into your eyes. The bright light made you turn your body away only to freeze when your whole body told you you were sore.

‘holy hell what a dream..’ you thought as you winced a little and switched to laying on your back. Perhaps you were just sore from all the work you had to do- no thanks to your boss.. but at the same time, you felt well rested. Definitely not a result that would stem from your boss.

You brushed your hair more out of your face and sighed. You have never had an amazing dream like that before, it being over only made you disappointed to have to get up. If it were possible to go back to sleep and back to that dream, you’d stay in bed all day. Wait-

Your hands clutched the sheet around you out of instinct, finding yourself naked. You never slept like that.. Trying to piece things properly together and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you turned to make a move out of bed only to squeak out of surprise when you saw the cat you rescued stayed perched on your nightstand, watching you.

‘’..hello cat..’’ you said hesitantly, keeping the sheet closer to you as you stayed put before your brow raised. Didn’t that cat have green eyes before? ..not blue..

Leaning forward, you examined the cat closer that watched you with a calm manor and didn’t move an inch as you gently ran a hand against its head. ‘’..Loki?’’ you whispered, almost feeling silly to try to ask its name but it was worth a try right? What made your hand draw back with widened eyes was when it’s eyes suddenly changed color to the familiar green..

And licked its lips.

My other one shot on the same topic LOL called: Cat Got Your Tongue?

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anaszpan · 23 days ago

Text

[ IMAGINE ] : You are Fili's daughter. When he teaches you to fight, he is very strict and doesn't go easy on you. You wrongly think that he is upset with you and that you will never be good, while he simply does not want you to get hurt.

[ A/N ] : English is not my native language. Don't hesitate to use this idea in your story. The photos / gifs do not belong to me. I do not claim any copyright to them and do not own any. 📷

[ ( ´ ꒳ ` ) ♡ ] : "You’re not focusing!" As I stood on the training ground, my heart raced with a mixture of frustration and doubt. Fili, my father, commanded the space with a fierce intensity that I admired but also found overwhelming. Today was just another grueling session, and as he demonstrated the proper stance for sword fighting, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was disappointing him.

“Hold your sword higher!” he barked, his voice cutting through the crisp morning air like the blade he wielded. “You’re not a child anymore. You need to be strong.”

I nodded but felt a knot form in my stomach. I gripped the hilt of my sword, my arms trembling. “I’m trying, Papa.” I said, hoping to soothe the tension that hung between us, but my plea seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Did he truly believe I would never be good enough? Each criticism felt like a dagger, chipping away at my self-esteem.

The sun hung high, beating down on us as I swung my sword, attempting to replicate the form he had shown me. I stumbled, nearly losing my balance, and instinctively, I glanced at him for approval. Instead, he frowned, his brows furrowing as he sighed heavily. “Again!” he commanded, and I could hear the disappointment laced in his voice.

And then it happened. In a moment of distraction fueled by my frustration, I stumbled, tripping over my own feet. I fell, the sword clattering away from my grasp. The sting of the ground brought fresh tears to my eyes, and I buried my face in my hands, the weight of my failures crashing down around me.

"Get up," he said quietly. There was no reprimand this time, only… concern? It was perplexing and disarming. Slowly, as I pulled myself up, I faced him, trembling and overwhelmed. "You have to learn to rise after every fall," he continued, his voice even. "This… this is where true strength is forged." As we continued, I grew more exhausted, and my movements became sloppy. I swung my sword wildly, and when he deflected it easily, I felt the air whoosh out of my lungs. The more he pushed, the more it felt like I was fighting against the tide, drowning in my own inadequacies.

“Enough!” I cried, dropping my sword to the ground as I collapsed to my knees, frustration spilling over into sobs. “I can’t do this! You’re always so strict with me! Maybe I’m just not cut out for this! Maybe I’ll never be good enough!”

I felt a lump form in my throat, stifling the frustration rising within me. Fili paused, his sword lowered, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something in his eyes — pain, perhaps? But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “What if I can’t ever be like you?”

The air grew thick with silence. Fili stepped closer, lowering himself to my level. His expression softened, a blend of concern and guilt flitting across his face. “Halwûna*” he murmured, reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. “It’s not that I don’t believe in you. I do, more than you can imagine. But the world out there,” he gestured beyond our secluded training ground, “it can be unforgiving.”

“But I can handle it.” I replied, my voice barely a whisper. “I want to make you proud. I don’t want to be a burden. I just feel like I’m failing.”

A flicker of tenderness crossed his eyes as he knelt beside me. "You'll never fail. You are my daughter, my strength, my joy, my heir. You belong to the line of Durin." His hands moved to my shoulders, squeezing gently, his warmth enveloping me. I leaned into him, feeling smaller against his sturdy frame, needing the comfort he provided.

He pulled me into a tight hug, wrapping his strong arms around me like a shield. I could feel the steady beat of his heart, grounded and steady. It calmed my racing thoughts, the whispered fears slowly fading in the embrace of my father’s love. “I do this because I care,” he murmured into my hair, his voice steady. “You are fierce; you just don’t see it yet. Every time you pick up that sword, you’re stronger than you were before. You need to believe in yourself, as fiercely as I believe in you.”

I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of his love seep into the cracks of my doubt. “You won’t give up on me?” I asked softly, my voice muffled against him.

“Never,” he promised, pulling back to look at me with those bright blue eyes filled with unwavering affection. “We’ll train together, and I’ll be right by your side. You are capable of great things, and I will always be here to remind you of that.”

With those words, a flicker of hope sparked within me. Perhaps, just perhaps, I was not as far from my father as I thought. I wasn’t just his daughter; I was a warrior in the making, and I could feel his faith in me becoming a part of my own spirit.

#hobbit #the hobbit #hobbit imagine #fili durin #fili #fili imagine #fili x reader

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markerofthemidnight · 9 months ago

Note

i very kindly request headcanons for the alephs. one or all of them i dont care im very hyperfixated rn and need food

I’ll give you the two ALEPHs in my facility in-game as a way to let go of my rage! (I’m on Hod’s suppression and they FUCKING WON’T STOP MELTING DOWN)

CENSORED

Its true name is The Living Clot. It’s a mass of partially-dried, sapient blood that can turn any biological matter it touches into smaller versions of itself, so long as its owner is unconscious.

Its whole existence is defined by the hate and envy it feels for the creatures that have proper bodies, that can feel, and can live. It won’t stop until everything knows its pain.

Which, yes, was inspired by AM from I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream, just in case you were wondering.

Though on that note, The Living Clot most certainly has mouths. Many mouths, and it can’t just scream- it can speak too, though with great difficulty, and it never says anything longer than a few syllables.

Times where it chooses to speak to Agents are rare, and they’re usually just concise death threats before it falls quiet again.

The reason why it’s classified as a Religious Abnormality (-03) is because it’s also technically a demon. Don’t ask me how.

A proper EGO Suit for The Living Clot actually was made, but since it was literally made of dried blood, nobody dared to wear it. As such, it forever remains untouched in… whichever corner of the facility such a thing can be safely and sanitarily kept in.

Its EGO Weapon is… you know what, I have no clue how to describe exactly what it is, but… it’s kind of like a harpoon?

Its EGO Gift gives the receiver bloodshot eyes with red, tear-like marks dripping down from them.

Nothing There

As a matter of fact, it only kills people in order to learn their anatomy. It knows its bad grasp on human anatomy is the biggest thing stopping it from blending in, and it wants to fix that.

If it got good enough at it, it would probably fit in perfectly as a 2-3 year old, but the idea that it would ever encounter one in the Corporation is more than unlikely.

Leaning into that, Attachment Work with Nothing There typically consists of teaching it new words and showing it pictures of humans in their natural environment…

…though all the humans it’s shown are either edited images of mutilated corpses or intentionally bad AI-generated pictures, since the company can’t risk it getting that good at mimicking people.

There’s no doubt among the employees that Nothing There is probably smart enough to know that it’s being fooled, but it still plays nice anyways, so they continue doing it.

Instinct Work, on the other hand, consists with it being fed the organs of dismembered employees. Each organ must be fed separately, so it doesn’t recognise them as human ones.

Despite that precaution, it’s suspected that it still knows where its food comes from, and that’s why its attempts at human disguises look so… awful.

Even though it’s probably smarter than most people think, employees are still advised to stand their ground whilst they watch it eat, or their cowardice might lead Nothing There to think that they are a part of its meal.

The metallic-looking parts of its EGO Weapon are actually bone, or at least more structurally similar to bone than they are to metal.

It presents Agents with its EGO weapon by kind of… licking their face with the big, sticky, tentacle-y flesh appendage that it thinks of as a tongue.

That turns their cheek a gruesome, pale red, and eventually eyes grow out of the mass. A few days after proper metamorphosis, Agents start to get vision in the extra eyes.

Many an Agent has requested to get their cheeks cut off just to rid themselves of the painful sensation of the eyes growing in, and the even more disorienting experience of being able to see out of them a few days later. These requests are always turned down as soon as they’re made.

#lobotomy corporation #lobotomy corp #lob corp #l corp #project moon #abnormalities #CENSORED #lob Corp censored #Nothing there #lob corp nothing there

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letters-from-dekarios · 11 months ago

Note

{The parchment is handmade- it smells faintly of mushrooms. You know instantly it's from Lillium, your druid partner. While you have been preparing lessons for your eager students, she has been hunkering down in the underdark. Researching the noblestalk, and spending time with the myconids- the first time the two of you went down there you practically had to pry her away from the colony of mushroom dwellers.

It's a relief to hear from her.}

Beloved,

I am alright. Attempts to propagate the noblestalk have proven difficult. I have not quite figured out the proper substrate preferences to procure it on the surface. It does not respond to the language of soils' song at all, like other fungi do.

Sometimes I think I have taken on this holy grail-esque task because I dread returning to the humdrums of daily life. You have taken to your teaching job so...fluidly and in a way I envy that. This fools errand was not for the good of anyone except my anxious mind.

After what we have been through- it all seems so minute. We have seen so many many things...killing that *thing* somehow felt easier than becoming part of the bustling daily livings of Waterdeep. Something about watching the city from the tower sends pangs through my chest ringing ,empty, empty, empty.'

I apologize deeply Gale. I am taking my samples with me and bidding goodbye to the myconids tomorrow. I will miss them dearly, but it doesn't compare to the ache in my chest when I turn in my bedroll and you aren't there nestled in beside me, holding me close.

Please forgive my weakness, I'm coming home. I love you more than anything,

~Lillium

My loveliest Lillium,

I’m elated to hear from you. I am ever encouraged to know you made it there safely, though my heart aches for the disappointment you must feel with your current struggles. Perhaps we could research some spells that might be able to simulate the Underdark’s conditions in a small, controlled environment when you return. In fact, that makes for a perfect lesson! I’m sure the minds of the young will have much more fresh ideas on the matter than I do.

My dearest, do not take my transition back to normalcy so lightly. You forget that this has always been my nature, ever since I was a child. Your attempts are far from futile, and I respect the lengths you go to so you may answer the questions of your heart. This, your “fool's errand”, is your daily living.

Things have changed, yes. I doubt I’ll ever feel the same as how I did before the infection. It’s impossible to achieve, so don’t try. Reaching for something far outside your grasp will only bring your mind more harm, my love. Ease into what you know and do best. You have a keen eye for the nature of things both literally and metaphorically. Take that by the reins and challenge your most nagging desires.

I would never tie you down to a place that leaves your heart longing for more. Perhaps we can have a more thorough discussion on travel plans when you return. As prideful in my teaching expertise as I am, I know my students are safe in the hands of other Wizards for a week or two. I want nothing more for you and us than happiness. If that means adventure, you know I am all the more welcome to it. However, I’d like to avoid adventure that deals with head specimens and the threat of worldwide extinction, if possible.

I will wait by the door every moment until your return, my dearest. Do not be saddened for having left your studies, but be joyous you began a new chapter of research to expand on. Be safe, my love, I long to hold you in my arms once again.

Your love forevermore,

𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔

text reads: gale dekarios

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bunnakit · 1 year ago

Note

hurt/comfort prompt number 3 for kiseki: dear to me 💕

hurt/comfort prompts 🌸

“Don’t go…” “I won’t. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

🌸

Ai Di fucking hated this. He hated the clawing sensation under his skin and the sick weight in the pit of his stomach as he desperately tried to reign in his wayward emotions in the dim light of dawn. He should be asleep, should've fallen asleep hours ago, but sometimes his mind didn't get the memo and he became trapped in an endless cycle of memories - usually ones he'd rather forget. Why couldn't he ever lie awake thinking of all the positive memories he'd created with Chen Yi these past few months?

No, of course that would be too easy. Instead he sat here with the image of every missed birthday, every letter that was never sent, every dismissal rotating behind his eyes like a cruel slideshow of regret. If he could find the projector he'd fucking smash the shit out of it. But he wouldn't because the source of each memory was Chen Yi and they were better now.

Weren't they?

He could hear the shower in the next room distantly through the door and normally the scent of the body wash would offer him some modicum of comfort, but tonight it only tormented him further. It reminded him of a stolen night over four years ago and the words that haunted him intermittently ever since.

Ai Di will get upset again if he hears us.

How many times had Chen Yi said that before? How many people had he taken into his room and hidden from him? Why had that slipped out so fucking naturally? Why couldn't he just fucking let it go?

He turned his head into his pillow and grasped the screen printed one to his chest, trying to slot it against his sternum to alleviate the annoying ache. He'd been just as cruel if not moreso, especially when he returned. He shouldn't still be here wallowing in these stupid feelings when he finally had everything he ever wanted.

Ai Di suppressed a soft sniffle as he heard the bathroom door open and felt Chen Yi settle at the edge of the mattress. He tried to seem like he was sleeping, like he wasn't awake in a prison of his own making. He forgot sometimes how observant Chen Yi was now, how he never took his eyes off him again.

"I know you're not sleeping. Why are you awake?" The warm palm against his hip chased away some of the gnawing dread and finally Ai Di felt like he could pull in a proper breath.

"Can't sleep." He offered, turning to lay on his back as he opened his eyes. He hated that his eyelashes felt wet and he knew it wouldn't go beyond Chen Yi's notice.

Sure enough, he felt his calloused thumb wipe gently beneath his eye and it had him swallowing another hitch in his breath.

"What's wrong?" Chen Yi has always been of few words but it meant he always got straight to the point.

"It doesn't matter. You have a job to get to." Ai Di muttered, instantly moving as if to roll over and give Chen Yi his back. He shouldn't have been surprised when he felt Chen Yi curl up behind him, slotted against him from shoulder to hip and impossibly warm from the shower.

"Ai Di." Fuck.

"Just.. Can you stay?" Chen Yi was the boss now, he didn't have time to indulge in shit like this, and fuck, Ai Di should probably go with him anyway. "Don't go." His mouth always had a habit of working faster than his brain and this time was no different, apparently.

"I won't, not if you don't want me to. Can you tell me what's wrong? Did I do something?" His breath was so warm against the back of his neck, his embrace so sure and strong, that Ai Di slowly found himself wondering what he'd been so upset about in the first place. Chen Yi was here, slotted against him so perfectly, as if there was never anywhere else he'd ever be.

Slowly, Ai Di turned around again and groaned, pressing his forehead against Chen Yi's bare chest and inhaling the scent of him, freshly washed.

"It's fucking stupid, don't worry about it." But still his arms circled Chen Yi's waist and held him close with no intention of letting go. "Just dumb memories."

"I'm sorry." The soft kiss against his forehead felt like a cleansing fire, burning away the last of his doubt and remorse.

"Me too."

#oh my god anon #my first kiseki writing ever #oat writes #oat asks #kiseki: dear to me #kiseki dear to me #anon my beloved #chen yi x ai di #chenyiaidi #i hope this is any good

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jupitermoths · 5 months ago

Note

CONNOR AND NORA 13 AND OR 25.

Casual Affection Writing Prompts

13. teasing each other good-naturedly, 25. sharing an umbrella

“Ah, shit,” Nora said as they reached the school door. The light sprinkling rain from lunchtime had graduated into outright buckets. She grimaced at the sight, folded her arms as if she was already under the cold shower. “Should we wait for it to let up? We’re gonna get soaked,” Nora asked Connor, who swiftly shook his head. A wide smile was already forming on his face as swung his backpack forward to rummage through its contents. “Oh, no, I’ve got us covered!” He grasped blindly through the front pocket of the bag, furrowing his brows slightly until he secured his prize. With a grin and a flourish, he revealed the item he’d been looking for.

“Ta-da!” There, held aloft like a torch, the glimmering beacon of their salvation, was the smallest umbrella Nora had ever seen. Nora let out a snort at the sight of it. “What is this, an umbrella for ants?” she asked, incredulous. Nora’s snort became a full laugh when she saw Connor’s indignant pout at her reaction. “Fine!” he said, crossing his arms. “I guess you’d rather just walk home by yourself! I guess you’d rather just get drenched, jerk!” He took a step towards the door, acting as though he was ready to carry out the threat, but stopped all too easily when Nora tugged at his shirt sleeve before he could go too far. “Aw, come on, you can’t strand me here,” Nora said. “I’d be stuck here all weekend. I’d have to roam the halls, scavenge for food in the cafeteria… I just don’t know if I’d survive.” “Hmph. It’d serve you right,” Connor said. “I’m mindful and think ahead and all you do is mock my umbrella!” “Alright, I’m sorry! It’s really cute,” Nora said, a smile still on her face. It wasn’t a lie; the umbrella was mint teal and it had a print of cartoon bunnies playing in the rain. It was exactly the kind of thing Connor would have at hand. Connor’s pout lessened with the apology. He kept his arms crossed for a few extra moments before he dropped them with a huff. “Fine, I guess we can walk home together,” he said, stepping outside to open the umbrella. “Lead the way, with your ant umbrella,” Nora said as she followed him out. She stifled a giggle at Connor’s narrowed eyes. The message was clear: Watch it!

The jokes had been in good fun, but the truth of the matter was that the umbrella really was inconveniently small, at least for the two of them. Connor’s left and Nora’s right shoulders were soaked. Nora’s head kept hitting the ribs of the umbrella; Connor was awkwardly holding it up to make up for the difference in their height, but his arm kept drifting lower. “Do you want me to hold it?” Nora asked, feeling the ribs on her hair once more. “I’ve got it!” said Connor, lifting his arm up higher once more. “I don’t wanna make you do all the work.” “What, so I should just let you do all the work?” “Yup!” Connor gingerly stepped around an earthworm on the sidewalk. “I’ll get us home nice and dry!” “I think the dry ship has sailed,” Nora said with a shrug of her wet shoulder. “Besides, I can tell your arm is tired.” “What? Is not!” “Sure it is. I don’t blame you, you’ve only got little baby arms, only fair that they’d get tired.” “I do not have little baby arms!” “Do too.” “Do NOT!” “Do too!” “Fine!” Connor jerked the umbrella into Nora’s hand, nearly dropping it before she could get a proper handle on it. He crossed his arms with an indignant humph. “I guess maybe you should be doing all the work after all!” “Happy to,” Nora said with a smile, comfortably settling the shaft of the umbrella against her shoulder. They fell into silence, then. Connor’s apparent annoyance melted away quick enough as the two of them made an effort to dodge all the earthworms wriggling on the sidewalk. He hooked his arm into the crook of Nora’s elbow, pressing in closer in an attempt, albeit vain, to make the umbrella at least a bit more effective. “What kind of creature do you think would enjoy being out in this rain?” Connor asked out of the blue; a classic Connor hypothetical. Nora hummed, giving the question some thought. “Well, in Spanish, you can say that you’re ‘happy as an earthworm’, but earthworms come up when it’s raining because it’s harder to breathe when the ground is soaked,” Nora said, taking another step around the creature in question. “So probably not a worm.” “Probably not. I don’t think I’d enjoy being a worm, with or without rain.” “Nah, me neither.” Nora rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Well, the answer is definitely amphibians, right? Amphibians probably have the time of their lives out in the rain.” Connor looked up excitedly at that. “You’re absolutely right! What kind do you think has the best time? Frogs? Toads? Maybe lizards?” “Lizards aren’t amphibians.” “What? Sure they are.” “No, you’re thinking about salamanders.” “What’s the difference?” “Salamanders are amphibians, lizards are reptiles.” “Alright!” Connor said, throwing up his free arm. “Salamanders, which one do you think would like the rain best.” “They probably enjoy it about the same, right? Frogs and toads get to hop around in it, which seems pretty fun. But a salamander would just be chill. Nonchalant. A real cool dude about it.” Connor giggled at that thought. “I bet you’re right, I bet being a salamander in this rain would be so cool.” “Hell yeah, it would,” Nora said with a smile and a nod. Her smile dropped slightly when she saw her home up ahead, though. The walk, damp as it’d been, was coming to an end. “Alright, see ya tomorrow,” Nora said as they hugged goodbye. “Stay dry, you’re not a cool dude salamander.” Connor giggled as he pulled away, “No, I guess not! See ya!”

Nora didn’t remember her dreams often, if ever. Still, she got the sense that her dreams that night had been particularly amphibious.

#asks #writing prompts #writing #oc tag #connor #nora #hehehe this was fun :]#and also unedited so godspeed

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razorblade180 · 2 years ago

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9 Days of Lancaster Day8: One Bed!

[The Kindom of Vale, nighttime]

Expect the unexpected; quite a simple rule taught in many professions but yet hard to grasp all the same. Jaune consider himself a thinker, and more importantly, a problem solver for those in need. He was currently putting that into practice by sitting on the couch of his humble apartment. He’d normally be asleep by now, however that wasn’t an option until…

knock knock knock

Bingo! Jaune stood up to open the door. On the other side was his very close friend and ex girlfriend, Ruby. The Reaper held a duffel bag and had her clothes hastily put on, leaving a few belts unbuckled. She walked inside so he could close the door. Ruby dropped her back near the couch and immediately turned around with her hands together.

Ruby:Thank you thank you thank you thank you!

Jaune:Hehe, it’s no problem. You’d do the same.

Ruby:Maybe if I was awake at this hour! I still can’t believe the pipes bursts throughout my building at a time like this.

Jaune:Expect the unexpected, as Ozpin always says. Did your room flood badly?

Ruby:When I left it wasn’t the worst but I’m not surprised if I come back to a few things ruined. Manage to grab a few important things though. A few clothes, hygiene supplies, Crescent Rose.

Jaune:I’m a little surprised you didn’t call Yang before me.

Ruby:She has Blake over….

Jaune:I’m sure she would’ve made room for you.

Ruby:Oh she would, but not only is she further away, but her and Blake aren’t exactly…quiet.

Jaune:Ah…well I don’t think they would’ve with you aro-

Ruby:I’ve been with them before. They thought I was asleep.

Jaune:I’m so sorry. Too bad Weiss is out of town.

Ruby:Even if she wasn’t I have a sneaking suspicion she’d be in bed hours ago. I know she’d let me in but waking Weiss is a dangerous experience. So yeah, thanks again. *bows slightly* I’ll be out of your hair in two days.

Jaune:Y’know you’re allowed over whenever? It really isn’t a big deal. I…I’ve never changed the locks.

Ruby:Oh..I assumed you did. Guess I destroyed that key for nothing.

Jaune:You could’ve given it back.

Ruby:Mmmm nah. *smiles*

Jaune playfully rolls his eyes and begins walking over to the couch and goes to lay down.

Ruby:Ummm, what are you doing?

Jaune:Going to sleep?

Ruby:Jaune I brought a pillow and cover. I’m not robbing you of your bed.

Jaune:It’s fine. The couch is comfy.

Ruby:Then let me have it! You already took me in. That’s enough.

Jaune:*stands* Ruby, I already changed the sheets. The bed is all yours.

Ruby:*raises brow*…..

Jaune:….*red* Out of etiquette! That’s what you’re supposed to do.

Ruby:Hey, I don’t know everything you do in your spare time. Could’ve found some random girl to pass the time.

Jaune:Rubes…

Ruby:Joking, I tease. Seriously though, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch in your own home.

Jaune:Well I’m not leaving you on the couch.

Ruby:Then I guess we’re sharing a bed! *hands on hips*

Jaune:I guess we are- excuse me?

Ruby:You heard me! *flustered* I’m not backing down so compromising is all that’s left.

No amount of expecting could prepare Jaune for that answer. Ruby and him had only dated for nearly two months before they broke it off. They had a few…experiences together; but nothing as bold or as intimate as one might expect. Certainly nothing that required them sleeping together in a shared bed. There were missions out in the wild but that wasn’t the same at all! There were no grimm around to keep an eye on.

Jaune:You’re serious, aren’t you?

Ruby:When have I ever joked about my treatment towards you? I refuse to take from you! But uhhh *rubs head* I might need proper sleep wear. I don’t think I packed that. Hehe, whoops.

Jaune: *inhales* Unpack and take your bath if you need it. I get you something cozy.

Ruby:Sounds like a plan!

xxxxx

How did this happen!? How did a night become so stressful, and yet Jaune wasn’t upset by the turn of events. It was surprising more than anything.

Ruby walked into the bedroom wearing his black basketball shorts and her own tank top she surprisingly grabbed from a pile of clothes. The shorts were a tad big on her but she mind. It would’ve matched the blue tank top he had on currently. He also wore a pair of orange shorts. Her eyes directed themselves at the bed. It was barely bigger than a twin.

Ruby:Never thought I’d love being petite until now.

Jaune:Couch is still an option for m-

The girl ran past him and flopped onto the bed. Despite her stubbornness, Ruby could tell her face was little red. Between the sheets and clothes, Jaune’s scent was very noticeable. He turned off the lights but she could still see his eyes on her as he walked towards the bed.

Jaune:You’re not gonna let me sleep on top of the covers while you’re underneath, are?

Ruby:Okay now that’s actually cruel no matter how you look at it. No one should be struggling to pull up a cover in their sleep.

He couldn’t argue with that. He pulled the cover and got into bed with her. Normally he’d sleep facing the wall, but as he was greeted with silver eyes inches away, Jaune’s face grew hot immediately. Time to face the door!

Jaune:Night~

No more words were spoken, at least for awhile. Moonlight barely pierced the blinds but it was enough for Ruby to see the outline of Jaune’s body. Had he been working out? Though they kept in touch, they hadn’t hung out nearly as much after their breakup two months ago. Now they found themselves sharing the same bed; something completely foreign yet familiar to her. They had only been together as long as they’ve been apart. Now he felt closer than ever yet so far. Actually, that was part of the problem last time, but Ruby felt like this situation wasn’t at all the same.

Ruby:….You still awake?

Jaune:…..

Ruby:Jaune, you’re moving an inch. You’ve either died or currently holding your breath.

Jaune:*exhales* I was trying to ease tension.

Ruby:By passing out?

Jaune:Not my best idea. Buckled under pressure.

Ruby:Hehe, thanks again. I’ll be sure to pay you back.

Jaune:Ruby, I could’ve said no. You don’t owe me anything.

Ruby:I know but…it feels like I’m a squatter or bum otherwise.

Jaune:Pfft, what am I? A landlord?

Ruby:Hehe, I think you’re too kind for that job. You’d knock gently and say please.

Jaune: “I know times are tough but please pay by the first.”

Ruby: “But funds are so tight. I don’t have the money.”

Jaune: “You’re gonna get kicked out if you at least can’t put some money down.”

Ruby:… “There’s no other way I can pay, sir?”

She put her arm around him, making him jolt a little as she clung to him. She could feel his heart beating as her hand found Jaune’s chest.

Ruby:I’ll do anything

Jaune:*blushing*…. Anything?

Ruby:Name it.

Jaune removed her arm from his body. He turned around slowly, rolling overtop of Ruby and staring down at the blush stricken girl. The was painfully silent as they didn’t move an inch.

Ruby:W..Well? Name it.

Jaune:….You’re not the type of person to just throw yourself at a someone.

Ruby:When have you ever just been someone? And who knows, I’m not exactly the same person. Are you?

Jaune:You mean, “emotionally distant?”

Ruby:I…did say that, didn’t I? If it makes you feel better, I was a bit “reckless and pushy at times.” Guess that last part still rings true, given where we’re at.

Jaune:Don’t put it all on you. I…wasn’t trying too hard to avoid this. So, “anything?”

Ruby:*nods slowly*

Jaune:In that case, Ruby, do you wanna try us again?

Ruby:…That is…not what I thought you were going to say. *red*

Jaune:Changed or not, you aren’t the kind of person to do something like this on a whim or casual fun. Just like you know I’d never find some random stranger to pass the time. You put effort into what you want, and so do I.

Ruby:Sounds like our mutual breakup is more like we took a break. That…actually makes me feel a lot better. So there’s been no one else?

Jaune:Nope. Ruby, I did not change my locks. We still talked regularly.

Ruby:Cut me some slack. I’m no pro at all this, and I’m sorry if I made it feel like if you should’ve been-

Jaune lowered himself and silenced her apology. Ruby felt her heart leap, kissing him back instinctively and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Two months without this was for too long. Their kiss ended but she refused to let him go.

Ruby:Just so we’re honest with each other, I may not actually know if Blake is at Yang’s. Sorry for lying.

Jaune:Heh, such a sneaky girlfriend I have.

Ruby:I can’t help that I missed my boyfriend. Now stay close. There’s not a lot of room in this bed~

Jaune:There’s enough for what I want to do. *leans in*

Ruby:Hehe, see? You really did change your sheets for nothing.

Jaune:Hush. *kisses her*

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #rwby lancaster #9daysoflancaster23

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obsessedtomone · 1 year ago

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Unravel Yourself Before Me ⛓️ Chapter 5 - Game Plan▸Shigaraki x femReader

Chapter Summary:

◤ There’s three reaction types when it comes to facing imminent danger. Flight, fight or freeze.

Flight, fight or freeze.

You don’t run, you don’t fight. No, instead you manage to fucking freeze.

“W-Was wondering when your stupid ass was going to show up, creep. T-Thought I’d have to call the morgue to find you,” you say, attempting—and ultimately failing—to keep calm in his grasp. Your body might be frozen right now, but you don’t hold back the contempt in your voice. ◢ Setting: University AU - No quirks (unless degenerate personalities count) Tags: Slow burn, Eventual Smut, Unhealthy/Toxic Relationships, Humiliation, Mentally Ill Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to ??? Warning: Dead Dove – Do Not Eat | Mind the tags TW: Implied Su/Self H, Dubcon, Reader has a super shitty past like actually, Shigaraki Tomura is his own warning.

AO3 Crosspost | Chain Divider by firefly-graphics

Chapters: One • Two • Three • Four • Five • Six

Chapter 5 - Game Plan The walk to your desk was more of a blur than anything, despite your group mates hardcore shoulder checking you on the way to their own seats.

“Thanks for nothing, bitch,” you think you heard Yui(?) say to you, her cute persona slipping away from her completely. You wouldn’t remember it later on, though.

Your legs are definitely taking you to your destination, but your anxiety forces you to zone out, away from this moment. Didn’t you promise yourself to keep your head down, back then? That you wouldn’t fuck with anyone or make proper enemies ever again? At the very least, pick your fucking battles?!

Sure, you’re a real bitch to people, to him in particular—on more occasions than once—but you still tried to avoid complex situations if you could help it! So why couldn’t you help it this time? Were the past few weeks too nice for you to go ahead and fuck everything up again?!

You feel tears pricking at your eyes. How could you be so fucking careless?

And don’t you dare fucking cry over this shit.

As soon as you get to your seat, Shigaraki turns to you in an instant, a smug fucking smile playing on his lips like he was taunting you.

Scratch that, he definitely is taunting you.

Before you could hurry and pack your laptop and your other belongings—to get the fuck out of here, you hear his grating voice speaking, head tilting to the side.

“Say, I’ll make you a killer deal,” he begins, the tone of his voice deceptively even, failing to mask the coldness. “If you fucking apologize to me right now, and manage to clear things up with the professor before—” He slides his sleeve just above his expensive-looking smartwatch and casually checks the time, “—the class ends, in about… mmh, give or take three minutes? I promise you won't regret this as much as you will if you do go through with this stupid shit you started with me.”

His face breaks into a slow and creepy smile as he threatens you, body emanating nothing other than incredible malice.

Judging by the way you feel your own two hands shaking against the backrest of your chair, you sadly only now realize that you really shouldn’t have fucked with him.

You’re still standing, looking down at his more than pleased expression on his face.

Despite the harsh tone, he looks at you more fascinated than anything. There’s a glint in his eyes, one that makes you feel like you’re some stupid pet in need of disciplining. A glint similar to the one you had in your own eyes, moments before the disaster you’d willingly thrown yourself into.

A disaster that will fucking cost you, especially with how ill-equipped you are to deal with situations like these in an amicable way. So you do what you’ve always done best, letting the monkey brain take over. And you fight, fight, fight.

Because what the fuck is this guy saying, like actually?

Anger takes over for you, replacing the anxiety you’d felt earlier.

“Uh-huh. You know what? Let me make you a better deal! How about—you fuck off?” you happily bite back. Or more like, take the bait.

And the aggressive response you gave him visibly seems to spur him on, as his grin widened and his leg started bouncing.

“No one held you back from doing your fucking part of the project, asshole! So who the fuck do you think you are, exactly?” you speak to him, fully unfiltered.

A really bad idea if you stopped to think about it. Too bad you didn’t like to think too much in situations where your amygdala did a full fucking hijack.

Shigaraki lets you continue, basking in the way you work yourself up just because of him. He found out he enjoys it when you’re pushing him. It means he gets to push back.

“Hey,” he says, very carefully, calling you by your first name in a lower—almost sensual—tone, as if tasting it in his mouth. His eyes narrow, and you see a flicker of something dark crossing his face.

Which for some fucking reason makes your heart skip a beat.

“...Huh?”

“I’m being very, very serious with you right now. You have to fix this before it’s too late,” he says and you blink at him dumbly, getting lost into his red angry eyes and feeling some sort of familiar warmth spreading inside you—the feeling being catastrophically overwhelming.

Your brain short circuits. Why did he say your name like that?

Why?

You can’t register what you’re hearing anymore—until the fucker doubles down, with a clear goal on his mind.

To rile you up some more.

“Be a good girl. Will you? For me?” He tilts his head and despite the sweet tone in his condescending rough voice, he’s looking at you like he’s about to either devour you or completely destroy you, right then and there.

Your lips part in surprise, taking a small sharp breath, and his eyes dart to your mouth for less than a second—something you wouldn’t have seen had you so much blinked in that moment.

Is this guy seriously… teasing you right now? When did incels become this fucking confident in themselves? Right, probably since the moment they were born and raised as rich, spoiled fucking brats who did whatever they fucking pleased.

For some reason that thought pisses you off even more—and then you feel it.

Rage.

“Fuck you, you spoiled fucking asshole! You think you’re the center of the goddamn universe, hm?” You point and poke your finger into his chest repeatedly, unleashing your anger on a still seated Shigaraki, who’s minimally flinching every time you poke him—something missed during your little outburst. “What are you gonna do, then? Fucking enlighten me! You gonna run to daddy and have him fix it for you like he always does? Or take me out back and beat the shit out of me for tattling on you to the big scary professor? What exactly are you going to do, huh? You don’t fucking own people, and you especially don’t. Own. Me!”

Your breaths are coming in heavy, chest rising and falling rapidly and shoulders heaving up and down with each labored exhale. You must have a screw loose or maybe a death wish, to taunt him like that, desperately hoping to strike a nerve and piss him off.

Unfortunately for you, that become a reality, because his playful demeanor completely vanishes in record fucking speed, replaced by a flash of fury that engulfs his entire being.

You feel the air that’s surrounding the two of you physically shifting.

Shigaraki’s jaw clenches so tightly you think it might crack, as he yanks his backpack from the floor and stands up abruptly. He then turns back to you, the renewed malice in his tone sending a deep chill throughout the nerve-rollercoaster of your spine and your skin breaks out in goosebumps.

“Listen to me really carefully, now.” He suddenly towers over you, casually sliding his rough hand across your shoulder, fingers wrapping around it tightly—one by one. You glance down at the feeling, only now noticing the big silver rings he was wearing around his index and ring finger. His grip on you is strong. Stronger than you remember it being in the store, not too long ago. Because back then he didn’t mean to harm you, but right now he’s fucking livid.

You shiver.

“I was going to be real fucking nice and let you fix this little… mistake. But I think you just helped me change my mind. Thanks,” Shigaraki says disingenuously, his hold on you turning bruising—hurting you.

You wince but you don’t let it show, regardless of the fear that’s creeping in. He revels at the challenging look in your eyes. Almost as if he’s daring you to fucking go ahead and act out again.

“I’ll make it so you’ll—mm,” he hums, pretending to ponder his following words for a second, until he leans in very close to your face and says, “beg me to stop, you’ll see. I’m actually really fucking good at keeping my promises.” The soft look he threw at you after, is nothing other than deceitful, and you wouldn’t dare to blink or even breathe right now.

So you force yourself to seem unbothered by his words and actions, daring to roll your eyes in an act of defiance and looking off to the side.

He’s not the first asshole to threaten you like this, so why is it so scary this time?

“Look at me,” he growls, digging his nails deeper into the fabric of your shirt, forcing you to do as he says, or else. “You shouldn’t mess with people you don’t know. Did no one teach you that, hm? You’ve heard aaall those fucked up things about me and still decided to play?” Your eyes narrow from the pain, but you don’t reply to his fake concern. Shigaraki smiles. “It’s okay, I’ll make sure you understand from now on. I’ll play.”

Deciding he’s done talking to you, he pats the hand on your shoulder a few more times the way a close friend would—before shoving you hard against the wall behind you and turning to leave.

You feel your back take the hit and your frown deepens.

“Hey! I’m not fucking done!” you shout after him, but he’s quick to slip out of the door, making you stare at his back this time around, like the petty motherfucker you know he is.

Your lips press into a tight line and you see shuffling happening in the corner of your eye.

It’s students glancing at your little mental breakdown post the Shigaraki theater piece, grimacing and whispering to themselves until they finally leave the classroom.

That’s it, you’re going home.

─────────

Taytay — Girl, yoU did what??? To WHOM???????? BITCH ARE YOU CRAZY??????? I didn’t tell you those stupid rumors so you could go ahead and get in a fight with him!!!! Fuck fuck fuck, we’re so fucked!!!!! Goodbye world. RIP ⚰

[Sent 3:40 PM]

Your phone lights up for the millionth time today.

Taylor was blowing up in your DMs, freaking out after you told them about what went down between you and Shigaraki earlier. Instead of replying to them, you’re hiding from the world, under the safety of your blankets, trying to come down from the numerous panic attacks you’ve had after the incident today.

You can’t stop spiraling, thinking about all the fucking things that could go wrong now. This isn’t your first rodeo with cocky little bastards who want to see you cry, or worse, but it’s the first time in a long time that you feel so helpless. All those other bastards were nobodies, but Shigaraki seems… different.

You felt small under his gaze and you couldn’t tell if it was your daddy issues or if it was the rumors that painted him as a rich heartless criminal.

No, it’s not that. It’s him, you think to yourself.

He’s dangerous. You felt it at the store, you felt it when he was toying with you in class and you definitely felt it when you decided to cross him. The air around him was different.

Breathe, you mentally will yourself to stop hyperventilating.

You played a mean prank on him, but is it really deserving of whatever scary shit he’s thinking of doing to you? Is he really that cruel or is he just fucking with your mind? Could he tell that you’re a flimsy sheet of fake confidence away from falling apart, at any point in time?

You for sure fucked up this time, you’d realized it earlier after all, but he’s being unreasonable.

Isn’t he?

Maybe… you’re being unreasonable. What would you have done in his place, having his status and his strength, if someone wanted to fuck with you? Would you have ever let it slide? Do you ever let it slide? Aren’t you just as fucking petty as he is, minus all the +buffs he’s gotten due to life’s RNG?

Maybe you should’ve apologized on spot.

But that would be tough because you haven’t sincerely apologized to anyone in years now.

They didn’t deserve it.

He doesn’t deserve it.

You can’t seem to keep it together right now, flip flopping between fear and denial, so you reach your hand for your second best friend—your anxiety meds. They don’t kick in right away, sometimes not at all, but you only need to feel the edge taken off.

So you grab the bottled water on your cheap makeshift nightstand and chug two whole pills at once.

That’s what you are, all bark but no fucking bite. And he just about proved that to you in front of all those people too.

Fucking pathetic.

You slide down sprawling on the floor and blankly stare at the ceiling. It’s not enough and you wish you could sink deeper into the ground. Six feet deep.

Would it help if you skipped classes for now? Who knows what that fucking criminal has in store for you. There’s a possibility he’d calm the fuck down if you stopped showing up. Maybe you can strike a deal with the faculty again and they’d let you take time off.

What would be an appropriate time for him to move on and forget about you anyway? A week? A month?

A whole ass year?

Is it too late to move countries, you ask yourself but no one answers.

While you were lost in thought for hours, someone decides to pound at your door really fucking loudly.

Oh god, did he send in someone to mess you up? His friends?

Did he already find out where you live?

Did he intend to make good on his promise this fucking quick?

Bang Bang BANG! — Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You begin slowly stalking to your kitchen, footsteps as light as you can manage against your old creaky floorboard and you arm yourself with the biggest frying pan you can find—the one with chipped paint, because you could only afford to pay like four dollars for it at a random garage sale.

In your pocket would be your pepper spray that you grabbed from your room on your way out. Both items should be enough equipment to knock someone out and make a run for it.

You stop in front of the door and listen carefully.

Maybe they left?

Bang! — you jump. “Oh my fucking GOD, babe, I swear if you don’t open this goddamn door, I’ll kill you with my own two hands. Before anyone else has the chance to!” a familiar voice warns, the sound being muffled by the door that was separating the two of you. You open it and feel instant relief washing over you. It’s just your best friend.

“H-Hey…” You force yourself to smile, but it looks off and they rush in to hug you.

“You didn’t respond to any of my messages for hours,” they whine in justified frustration, then they run a hand through their hair, sighing. “I thought I’d have to ask my sugar daddy to buy your organs off the black market, y’know? So we’d have something to bury at your funeral. God.”

“Sorry, I… couldn’t bring myself to reply.” You fidget, feeling kind of ashamed. You don’t like making Taylor worry. They don’t deserve to worry. Not for you.

Your friend gives you a look of sympathy—or maybe pity—before they speak again, “It’s okaaay, we’re gonna get you through this! Maybe it’s just rumors after all and he’s just messing with you, babe,” they say as you’re closing the door behind the two of you.

Nodding briefly, you press your hand over the hidden bruises that have been forming under your hoodie, tagging along behind your friend on their way to your bedroom.

That’s not it. He wasn’t fucking bluffing. People use words when they’re bluffing, not leave ugly purple marks on other people’s shoulders. Before you can continue that train of thought, you hear Taylor’s yelling voice and cringe at the suddenly increased volume.

“Fucking hell, babe!” Your friend turns to you with a raised brow and the biggest shit eating grin you’ve seen all week. “You have not cleaned this room since Santa visited last year, have you babe? Pretty sure you’re on his naughty list now.”

You roll your eyes and frown. “I was planning to, okay?”

Honestly, you weren’t. Not anytime soon. But you really don’t have it in you to hear more deserved criticism right now, despite it coming from your best friend. Your inability to properly care for yourself when you’re feeling like shit is a big sore spot for you.

“Yeah right, shut your stupid trap. Can’t even remember what freaking color your floor was.” Taylor says playfully, picking up on your sour mood as they shove you to the side and start cleaning up around your room. “Help me out, will you?”

It finally clicks.

They’re helping you and it’s working, your mind now occupied with something more physical, trivial, grounding.

Your shoulders slump and you begin helping them with your chores, after which the both of you start discussing a game plan.

─────────

What you and Taylor came up with is a bit underwhelming in battle-planning terms. You decidedly won’t skip uni over a pseudo-college-villain and instead are going to try talking sense into him, before you escalate this to your dean. Your friend wants you to apologize first, but you didn’t have it in you to tell them that you’re pretty sure you haven’t genuinely apologized to anyone since fifth fucking grade.

“Who the fuck knows what that crusty asshole is capable of? Ducking your head is also a form of fighting, hun. This isn’t the time and place to be prideful,” they’d reasoned with you. “We’ve already established he’s anything but normal, so you can’t spook him with your big bad bitch attitude.”

Despite feeling extremely annoyed at the prospect of your submission, you know this was probably the best play. You’d fucked with a possible clinically insane guy, if the bruises on your shoulder were anything to go by.

Besides, there were plenty of curious students who oh-so-enthusiastically attended your little theater performance with Shigaraki on Wednesday. They’d be enough to act as your witness, should anything go wrong. Would they step up, though?

You’re hoping they would, but in your experience, most people try to keep their hands clean.

But save that thought for later. There’s bigger problems to attend to for now.

With the ‘plan’ in motion, you attempt texting him multiple times, but he wouldn’t even read your messages. Or… he’d blocked your number.

You couldn’t tell.

All that’s left to do now, is to see him again next week on Monday and hope for the fucking best—that he’d talk to you and you’d get out of this mess without putting his orbiting rumors to a test.

There’s a tiny problem with that course of action, however.

You didn’t know his schedule, his major or his classes, aside from the ones you were sharing with him. No one else does either.

It’s fine by you really, because you weren’t in a rush to see him again, and after a couple of days passing uneventfully, you felt like maybe he’d lied to keep you on your toes and make you feel shitty.

Maybe you wouldn’t have to confront him after all.

─────────

Bzzt Bzzt —

Your week went by in a flash, with a few part time shifts in-between your classes and the occasional ‘what if’s’ playing on loop in your head, taking over your brain when no one was looking. Not even brain-rotting media like music or games could distract you from the spiral anymore.

Now it's time to leave for college. You mentally prepare yourself for the chilly air of the changing seasons, grabbing your coat, your phone and feeling like you’re forgetting something—your school bag. Cursing under your breath, you grab that too and finally head out.

The walk itself wasn’t very long, since it only takes around fifteen minutes from your place to campus. You don’t live on campus, but you live a few blocks away from it. Not too bad when you consider some of the students live outside of the city and have to travel tremendous amounts of time to get to class. Time that could be used to sleep.

A pang of anxiety hits you as soon as you get to the entrance, your brain catching up with the fact that today is the day you get to face him again.

It feels incredibly overwhelming, to say the least. Like a new boss in Dark Souls, that’s threatening to one-shot you and significantly set your progress back.

‘Shigaraki Tomura, ender of college careers’, you snort at the stupid thought, hoping you won’t have to rest at your apartment’s bonfire after today’s battle.

…And maybe he is such a character—one to be feared—but you’ve already made up your mind, wanting to bring this silly game to an end.

Thus you step into the building, regardless of the overwhelming anxiety rattling your bones.

Bzzt Bzzt —

You’ll have to remember to put your phone on silent, because who the fuck is messaging you right now? You never use the standard messaging app to talk to anyone, so maybe it’s your manager or one of your co-workers, the only thing disproving that theory being that they wouldn’t message you. They’d call.

Annoyed by the constant vibrations, you reach into your front pocket to check which motherfucker had nothing better to do with their time. Before you could even pull out your phone, someone properly bumps into you, stopping you dead in your tracks.

“Ow, fuck,” you manage to get out as they walk past you.

Glancing back, you see two idiots looking at you, exchanging meaningful glances with each other and then moving on with their lives, as if they didn’t just shoulder check you with the strength of a linebacker in a game of football. Do people not apologize anymore for bumping into strangers? Fucking weirdos. You’ll never let Taylor tell you that you have bad manners ever again.

It… isn’t just them, though. All of the sudden, it seems like everyone is stealing glances at you.

Yeah, right. You definitely became the popular girl overnight.

More like, fucking delusional.

You’re seeing things, probably because of that psycho making you feel on the edge the whole ass week. It’s not the first time your brain is making things up, making you feel like bad things are happening when they weren’t.

Still, there’s a weird feeling that you can’t quite put your finger on.

After some fast paced walking and trying a great deal to ignore that weird feeling twisting your gut, you find yourself in front of the classroom’s door. And so you just… stand there. For a good while.

You’re quite early too, probably for the first time since you started going to this god forsaken university.

With a deep breath, you open the door and make your way to your usual spot. You grab your laptop, boot it up and quickly work on some leftover assignments for the day, while you wait for the bell to ring and for you to have a real conversation with the white haired psycho. Bzzt Bzzt — Goddamnit, the fucking phone.

Pulling it out, you unlock it and immediately frown at the multiple message previews on your lockscreen. There’s like five different ones, all of them sent from random ass unknown numbers.

You open one of them and are immediately greeted by—hands-down—the ugliest dick pic you think you’ve ever seen.

What the fuck?

Unknown Number — hey baby, can u take care of this 4 me…? i woke up thinking of you today and its throbbing…

[Sent 7:03 AM]

Reading it makes you immediately gag and you promptly close it, blocking the number.

Who the fuck are all these people?

Unknown Number — So you need someone to fuck your brains out huh sweetheart?? Let me take you up on that offer I’ll treat you real good babygirl <3

[Sent 11:47 AM]

You can’t hold back the urge to respond to this particular idiot before blocking him, so you shoot him a reply.

You — aw don’t worry bout me bro <3 i saw your daddy last night! maybe if i ask him nicely, he’ll come visit you again. see you at the family reunion ;)

[Sent Now]

But apparently, you aren’t quick enough to block this one, because you see a new message popping up from the same dude you replied to seconds ago.

Unknown Number — Damn baby you’re freaky like that?? I’m so fucking down to be your daddy. When can I see you baby? Wanna meet at the nearby Starbucks after class?

[Sent Now]

Oh god, ew ew ew. You immediately hit the block button and close your stupid phone, mentally going through a list of all the websites you registered to in the past few days and wondering if any of them sold your fucking number to data scalpers.

Ugh, now you’ll have to change it. What a pain in the ass.

Wait.

It takes you a moment for the information to process, sudden panic setting in your gut. You quickly reopen the message from the now blocked number. He mentioned a ‘nearby Starbucks’? After class? The next few messages seeming to be similar in nature, so you put your phone on airplane mode and slip it back in your pocket.

Was this Shigaraki’s doing? Did he leak your phone number to a bunch of creepy assholes in the area?

Wow, soooo scary, you snort at the thought.

It seems so fucking silly that you were so afraid of him before. Maybe you’d made him up to be too much of a Marvel Universe villain in your head than he actually was. It’s possible with the list of mental illnesses you were blessed with. Surely he didn’t want to be expelled from uni over something so stupid, did he? Wouldn’t his rich daddy mind if he sullied the family name or whatever?

The bell rings with most of the students having occupied the seats.

Your CS professor isn’t here on time today which immediately strikes you as odd. He is definitely a stick in the mud when it comes to meaningless rules such as punctuality, so it makes no fucking sense as to why he’d be late.

While you’re spacing out, you notice a few more people turning to look at you, the way you noticed they did earlier in the hallway. They glance ‘sneakily’ and then whisper something to their friends.

You don’t break eye contact with them and scowl, daring them to keep staring at you like you’re some kind of a freak. They of course don’t, because you almost always win any petty staring game people start with you, because that’s what you are—petty—and they finally look the fuck away.

What’s everyone’s fucking problem today?

You think about it.

Did he seriously threaten you, going off on his evil speech for about five minutes, just to mass-dox your phone number to a bunch of horny assholes?

God, and he called your move to embarrass him on Wednesday ‘stupid’. Taylor was right, the rumors around him really are just that—rumors. That, paired with your trauma and ta-da! You finally realize just how much you’ve overestimated that asshole.

It worked. You did learn a lesson: You’re a fucking moron.

You shake your head and cringe in your seat for giving him so much power over you.

Instead of your usual CS professor, a substitute trudges in. He pulls out his attendance sheet and begins taking the count. You scoff to yourself, because not doing the attendance digitally in a computer science class was really fucking stupid to you. Especially for a class as big as this one. One of those, huh?

“Alright,” he begins, placing the sheet on his desk and clearing his throat. “Well then, as you might have already heard, Mr. Reynolds has recently submitted his letter of resignation and I will be taking over this course for the rest of the semester. Call me Dr. Ericson.”

The substitute sounded as ancient as he looked, going on introducing himself and his grading etiquette and… you lost interest.

Mr. Reynolds is… well, was, a legendarily uptight professor, who’s been teaching his math and computer science courses at this university very… passionately, for the past two decades. It’s kind of incredible that he’d retire from a job he took so seriously and was so proud of.

That alone made you wonder just about what could deter him from ‘molding the young minds of today’, or whatever he used to say when you first stepped into one of his classes. You’ll never forget the way he’d glared at you for being two minutes late on the first day.

Maybe he’s knocked up one of his students? Yeah, right.

The thought made you chuckle to yourself and you can’t wait to talk to Taylor about it. Maybe your friend knows something.

─────────

The rest of your class goes on undisturbed and when the bell rings, you leave for the next one.

Just like earlier, you feel watched by practically everyone.

By now you realize it’s not just a coincidence, something’s up and you have a feeling you don’t actually want to find out.

On the way to your next course, you find yourself walking down the hallway virtually alone. This particular wing of the building was more secluded than the others and used mainly by the robotics engineering majors.

It’s kind of creepy being by yourself in cold and dark empty hallways, but you’re thankful for the reprieve you get from the gawkers that can’t seem to stop whispering behind your back. It feels like you were back in highschool all over again and you couldn’t figure out why.

You’re passing by a group of guys, when suddenly, one of them grabs you and effectively yanks you by your still-bruised shoulder. Your face immediately turns sour and you wince.

“Is it you?” One blonde dude—the guy who had grabbed you—asks with a huge shit eating grin on his face.

You blink and they call you by your name.

“...Why?” you reply, frowning.

“Holy shit, it is you!”

He looks at his friends with an incredulous face and they all start laughing like they’re in on some stupid inside joke you didn’t care to be a part of.

“You should come hang out with us at our dorm, we could all have some fun together. Take turns, y’know? Been wanting to try that out for a while with my buddies, but we couldn’t find anyone. I’ll text you, okay?” He winks at you like you’re supposed to fucking know what they’re talking about and you notice one of them adjusting the tent in his pants.

Your eyes widen and you pull back abruptly. “What the fuck? Get away from me, fucking creeps!”

You’re backing away, beginning to feel terrified, when they speak again, “C’mon baby, don’t act coy. I know you said you play hard to get and I’m down to deliver, but let’s do it in private, okay? Maybe we could all skip class right now? It’ll be fun, promise.”

He flashes you a smile and all of them start closing in on you like you’re an animal at a petting zoo.

You feel nauseous. You’re gonna puke. Sliding your hand in your pocket, you feel the rim of your pepper spray and get ready in case they try to grab you again, making a mental note to spray whichever motherfucker looked most annoying to deal with, after which you’ll make a run for it.

Suddenly, one of them notices something from behind you and his leering expression morphs into what seems to be pure horror. He nudges the others to get their attention, then points a finger past yourself.

Just like that, the band of morons slowly back away from you.

You begin turning around, ready to thank whoever got them to fuck off, to finally leave and get to class, but unfortunately you’re not allowed a break. Because now some other asshole slides their arm around the one holding your pepper spray, and tugs you very close to them.

Your body stills completely.

“Made a couple of friends already, I see,” a familiar dark voice rasps closely to your ear, making you visibly shudder. His white bangs tickle the nape of your neck as he leans into you.

There’s three reaction types when it comes to facing imminent danger. Flight, fight or freeze.

Flight, fight or freeze.

You don’t run, you don’t fight. No, instead you manage to fucking freeze.

“Hah!” Shigaraki barks in a sinister laugh that makes you flinch, holding you even tighter to him. You don’t dare to move a finger yet. “Still so fucking mouthy, huh? I guess I should check in again in a couple of days, since you probably still don’t know what’s happening to you yet. Did you even get to see my present?”

He cups your cheek with his other hand and forcefully moves your face towards his own. His nose touches yours almost intimately, and his red eyes that are glaring at you now, are more intense than you’ve ever seen them be. Shigaraki’s mouth stretches into a sadistic grin.

“What fucking present, asshole?” you ask, unable to hold yourself back from taunting the devil. “You think giving my phone number to a bunch of sex offenders is gonna scare me? That it?”

You roll your eyes and huff at him, but your voice fails to remain even. Adrenaline is now rushing through your veins and you feel yourself gearing up to attack or to run, the initial freeze finally letting up.

As if he could read your mind, his hold on you becomes impossibly tighter. You try again to push him away with your hands, but he holds tougher than a wall of bricks. Shit hurts and you’re convinced you’ll have even more bruises tomorrow. More bruises caused by him.

“Tch. You really think that’s all I’d do? Thought you had more brains than that.” He tilts his head in false contemplation. “Have I overestimated you?”

“What do you want from me then?” you grunt, voice straining. You look like an angry kitten, hissing at the big bad wolf. If he feels you trembling against him, he spares you from mentioning it.

“Mmh?” Shigaraki glances away, finger touching his chin while seemingly considering your question.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“What do I want,” his voice takes a slightly higher pitched lilt as he feigns curiosity.

The tension snaps.

“Fucking nothing you can offer me anymore, bitch. You lost your fucking chance after your little temper tantrum last week,” he growls, voice spitting venom, and his demeanor instantly flips to an incredibly sour one as he shoves you hard against the wall. You don’t have time to register the impact, because he places his palms on each side of your head, effectively caging you in.

Shigaraki is now completely towering over you, your vision filled with only him.

“You have no fucking idea—cannot comprehend the position you put me in, after Wednesday!” He leans, face closer to your own. He was angry at you, really angry, but for what, you weren’t sure. “Ahh, but that doesn’t matter now does it? Because it’s your fucking fault, and now you’ll have to live with the consequences. Like the good little whore you are.”

His left hand reaches to cup your face gently, an attempt to lull you into fake security and a stark contrast to the evident bitterness in his voice. You notice his gaze briefly lowering to your lips, and him slowly leaning in closer to you. So close, you could feel his breath against your mouth.

And then, time kind of… stops.

If you believed you could push him away before, you now feel unable to. Is he really going to kiss you?

Moreover, are you so fucked up to let it happen?! Instead of going for your lips, however, his mouth goes past and just barely traces the shell of your ear, teasing you and the rough texture and sending an unwanted shiver down your spine. You feel him smirking against your ear.

“Just kidding!”

He pushes himself off of you and throws his hands up in some sort of act of surrender. “Woah, look at you. Were you really hoping that I’d kiss your disgusting mouth? Freak.”

He narrows his eyes and chuckles darkly, examining your flustered form. Your face must be insanely red by now, and you can bet he can see the shakiness of your shoulders.

What’s wrong with you? Why is he doing this?

And why are you allowing this to happen?

“My bad, my bad!” He smirks knowingly. “Maybe if you weren’t such a mean little bitch and you’d ask politely, I’d let you ride my cock. Maybe I’ll still let you when you come back crawling to me, begging so, so sweetly for me to forgive you.”

It’s incredible, really, how delusional this guy fucking is. How many wrong turns did you take to unlock this event?

You’d like to deny it, to tell him that you’re utterly disgusted by him and his filthy words, but Shigaraki talking to you like that does something inexplicable to you.

After being stunned for a moment, you push yourself off of the wall, one hand clutching the strap of your bag and the other balling at your side. He could see the anguish in your eyes, and that alone filled him with glee.

He’s impatient, unable to wait for the moment he breaks you, everything happening just because you’d decided to play a stupid prank on the worst possible student in this goddamn university.

You can’t help but glare at him, willing yourself to snap out of whatever spell you were in.

“Hope you’ll like my gift, I put quite the effort into it. But you should hurry along. Respectable honor students don’t skip classes now, do they?”

Your blood runs cold as he waves at you innocently, pulling his hood up and sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He walks backwards for another good second, literally basking in how disheveled you look, then turns around and finally leaves you for good.

When he’s finally out of your sight, your nerves let up and you slide down the wall as a panic attack washes over you.

There’s no doubt in your mind anymore. Whatever he’s done to you will be beyond fucked. How naive of you to think he’d be human and let this go.

You wish you could turn back time and never cross his path, that stupid night at the store.

You wish you were a different, nicer person, one that knows when to bow their head down or to apologize properly when they mess up.

But you’re still you, so you do the only thing you can think of right now, and call the one person who’ll always have your back.

Your best friend.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #emotional hurt/comfort #shigaraki tomura #unhealthy relationships #dead dove do not eat #trigger warnings #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki fanfiction #shigaraki x you #tenko shimura #tomura shigaraki #college au #reader is female

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