#I need to lie down this is all too horrifying I'm not okay with anything except trains rn | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hotteoki · 1 year ago

Text

drunk bf ateez headcanons - 2k celebration!

pairing: ateez x reader (no prns used)

cw: mentions of alcohol (obvie)

genre: fluff, established relationship, headcanon

notes: after watching drunkteez on wanteez and having yunho on my mind i just had to write this ( ˘ ³˘)

notes: this is my second celebration post! happy 2k followers!

hongjoong

he seems fine

at first

he's downing shots, glasses, bottles

at flash speed

but he's fine

even he says he's fine

"i just don't feel anything"

"well i mean some people just don't get drunk"

"maybe i'm just reeeeeally talented"

you're like thinking 'oh! he's not too bad'

...

did the 'reeeeeally' not give you warning signs in your head

you spoke too soon

next thing you know he's trying to shove his head down the billiard/pool/snooker table holes

it's more of gently ramming his head against the table edge than shoving his head tho

you were dying laughing by the time you reached him

"joong what are you doing???"

"i'm looking for thissssss"

"what is 'this', joongie?"

it's silent for a while and you're rubbing his back

then he just pops up

"this!"🫰🏻

(ಠ ಠ)

he thinks he's sooooo funny

you had to stare at him for a good few minutes before processing what the hell you just witnessed

he's upgraded from terrible dad jokes to terrible rizz jokes

i don't think i can decipher which is worse

he's also balancing the shot glasses on the back of his hand

which had you PANICKING

a whole migraine just from that

forget a hangover

your fear of him breaking one of those is enough for you to want to die

surprisingly he didn't break any

"see baby? i'm just tooooooo talented"

he's giggling so much

it's so cute :(

but add the worst aegyo in the world to the list

it’s near bang chan level of horrifying

i mean sure

joong is NATURALLY a giant tiny cutie

but when he’s doing it on purpose???

um.

well!

okay!

(유∀유|||)

have fun!

seonghwa

no thoughts behind those eyes

just blink blink (0_0) (-_-) (0_0)

i'm pretty sure he's on mars

and out of nowhere he starts singing along to i want it that way playing in the background (b99 ref (ʃƪ˘ﻬ˘))

singing along very loudly if i may add

BUT

as soon as the song ends

he's back to his (0_0) (-_-) (0_0) agenda

at one point

you’ve just gotten used to his giggles and clapping out of the blue

yeah he just applauds randomly

to whom and why?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

he just wants to i guess

"hwa, i think we should go now it's like 4am-"

"HAKUNA MATATA YO"

oh he's singing again!

will not stop for the next twenty minutes

in his head it's a free karaoke bar

and he's just singing to his heart's content

he can also get pouty very quickly

and is very, very clingy

whichever one of your arm is nearer to him is not going to hear the bells of freedom for the rest of the long night

to be fair

if any of the other members are near him

he's also going to be clinging to them

just

a little less than you

he loves you the most after all! ><

all in all

he's pretty chill

every now and then

this is a bit short cause i don’t know what else i could say i’m sorry (╥_╥)

i'll make it up with a seonghwa drabble soon promise

yunho

where did this man's energy come from???????

one minute he's on the dance floor

he's 'boogying', as he said

the next he's running laps around the bar

you're just shocked he hasn't crashed into another poor innocent person yet

oh and now he's on the stage! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

are you ripping out your hair yet

( ˘ ɜ˘) ♬♪♫ (yunho!!!!!!)>ヽ(‵﹏´)ノ

he's singing what seems to be halazia

except it's literally just the word halazia being repeated

you're pretty sure he sang 'hala-hala-hala-hala-halazia' like about seven times

stream seven by jungkook

you had to physically drag him down from the stage

“nooooo baby you don’t understand i still need to sing hips don’t lie they need meeeeeee (ง'̀-'́)ง”

“yeah ok shakira let’s go”

his hand slips from yours and he’s sucked into the wardrobe of narnia

cause even tho he’s a literal giant

you can’t seem to find his usually sticking out head

the reason why?

he’s squatting while doing the dougie

why? i don’t know

i don’t think he knows either

but he’s dougieing!

he’s also spitting BARS

starts rapping to mingi’s part in guerilla while you’re trying to drag him out

at this point you’re beginning to suspect that he’s not actually drunk

maybe a little tipsy

but mostly just staying to cause chaos

and to give you a headache

but his little pout as you’re pulling him away

“yuyu come on we have to go >:(“

“but baby i don’t want tooooo”

does this face 🥺

yk that one time when ateez made faces imitating the emoji signs they were holding

and yuyu had the 🥺 one

THATS EXACTLY THE FACE HES MAKING

and how can you deny this golden retriever :,)

(if you can resist it you’re just a maniac frankenstein cheoreom georeo maniac maniac ha ha idk i don’t make the rules)

“okay fine… but no-”

“YAY i’ll be back”

he does in fact come back a few minutes later

HOLDING A PIGEON?????

“YUNHO WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? PUT THE BIRD DOWN-”

“i made a friend! :D”

you’re certain he took a few years off your life in just one night

yeosang

since we've never actually seen him drunk

cause he's a fairy

i'll go by what joong san and hwa were saying in their vlive like ages ago

cause apparently yeosang gets all cute

so let's imagine a very clingy sangie

just tugging and snuggling into your arm

mumbling your name too

his cute nose scrunches up whenever you try to move

he whines about how you don’t love him anymore

literally just because you moved to scratch an itch on your neck

“sangie what do you mean i don’t love you anymore of course-”

“you don’t LOVE ME ANYMORE :-(”

near tears because he’s convinced of his point

sigh

“baby why do you think i don’t love you anymore?”

“hm??”

confused blink blink

he’s forgotten what he was even saying

your hand brushing through his hair is just too distracting!!!!

he’s a simple man ok?

( ๑>ᴗ<๑ )

that’s how i imagine he looks

with a flushed face

but still looking like an angel sent from heaven

but yk

don’t forget about his muscles

（ΦωΦ）

atp he’s fed up with you moving around while trying to take care of the other members

so he just tightens his iron grip on your arm

good luck moving a literal koala clinging onto your arm

like hwa’s situation

you’re not moving another inch until he’s satisfied with the amount of love he’s showered you

which

he never will be

◝(๑꒪່౪̮꒪່๑)◜

again very short cause i have nothing to come from ;-(

san

literally the LOUDEST mfer in the bar

you can expect everyone within a twenty meter radius to be staring at the two of you

you just standing there like (ಥ‿ಥ) and he's just like ᕙ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ᕗ

flexing

he's not doing it on purpose

but like

come on

how can you NOT stare at the gorgeous man that is your boyfriend

gawddamn

what snaps you out of your daze was san suddenly pointing at you

"san what are you doing?"

"youuuuuu... are soooooo... not me"

🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

oh he's so far gone

i don't think even he knows what he's doing

bro's just saying things

he's literally the walking epitome of speaking to speak

the worst, and i mean absolutely WORST case of asian flush ever

every exposed square inch of his skin is bright red

you're like

panicking trying to get him to sit down

cause he's stumbling around into every person in the bar

he's practically knocking them over like bowling pins

then immediately apologising in the cutest way possible

the second he's made it out of the human mosh pit tho

(╥﹏╥)

you're like (ಠ ''ಠ)

"sannie, honey, why are you crying?"

"i don't know"

sniffle

"i just love you soooooo much..."

"thank you i-"

"like SOOOOO much"

"okay thank you baby-"

"i love you like thissssssss much"

he's holding out his hands

and he's stretching them out as far as possible

and before you know it

oop! he's bear hugging you

his cheek is squished against the top of your head as he's mumbling incoherent words

the only thing you can make out tho is

"i love you so much"

you guys are such goals (;-;)

mingi

okay since we’ve never seen drunk minki

i’m going to go by the endoscopy ep

where he was breakdancing

at first he was convincing gaslighting you that he was fine

because fine means stumbling around and not even being able to walk in a straight line

but whatever suits him! :p

no seriously

he could not walk properly for the LIFE of him

he was crashing into strangers and waiters alike here and there

and by crashing

i mean practically throwing himself onto them

but the second he stands back up

he’s back to yelling into their faces that he’s sober

like mingi…

no one believes you

(￢_￢;)

you were following him right on his tail

frantically apologising to everyone he disturbed

and he’s bopping his head

he’s jamming!!!!!! 乁( • ω •乁)

he’s in his own little world

which is so adorable you almost want to cry :-(

but by the time you have to leave

and he’s STILL dancing around

you have to start pulling aggressively on his arm

he won’t go otherwise

he could stay there all night just to prove a point

the point?

that he’s sober

yes he’s still on that topic

because he’s 100% NOT drunk!!!!!!!!!!

“mingi we have to go-”

“BUT BRUNO MARS IS ON”

“MINGI ITS NOT EVEN BRUNO MARS ITS JUSTIN BEIBER”

“…o yea! ヽ(･∀･)ﾉ”

sigh moment from you

“i want bruno mars thoooooo do you fink i can request for bruno marsssss??????”

“no”

“why not!!!!!! ;-(”

“cause we have to go (˘∀˘)/(ㅠ~ㅠ)”

pushing him out of the bar now

he’s a fun person to be around when you’re drunk as well tho

wooyoung

witch cackle amplified by 2611%

it’s so funny tho

he laughs over literally NOTHING

a stranger walking in the bar?

HILARIOUS

someone passing by?

howling on the floor

the toilet door opening?

he’s wiping away tears

hongjoong tripping over a chair in his drunken state?

he’s getting a 10 pack at this rate

to be fair

you also cackled at poor hongjoong pretending like his dignity didn’t just get absolutely annihilated

at the same time

he’s also just fumbling around

he’s not very sober

not sober enough to recognise you

“oooooooh you’re soooooooo good looking we should go outttt”

“wooyoung this is the fifth time tonight we’ve been together for over a year”

“say whaaaaaaaaaat???!!!!?!!?!”

starts coddling you after that

he’s so sweet but in a loud way

well

louder than usual

cant stop kissing you (ﾉ´ з `)ノ

no literally

i’m not exaggerating

he will CHASE you around the pub to kiss you if needed

he has done that before (in my head)

“wooyoung people are staring-”

“COME BACK LEMME KISS YOUUUUUUU ε=┌(;･д･)┘”

now

you might be thinking

skits, why would i ever deny kisses from wooyoung????

yeah see

he thinks he’s kissing you

he’s not

he’s biting you

like full on CHOMP CHOMP CHOMPERS

it’s not even cute lil :3 nom noms

ITS LITERALLY FULL ON TEETH RAWRS

so unless you want a chunk of your skin gone

start running! :p

jongho

you really think he's going to be the drunk one?

him??????

bro has not seen a day of being drunk

he could be downing bottles of every kind of alcohol known to mankind

and still be fresh as a daisy

(≖ᴗ≖) ✿

he'd be the one challenging the entire bar into drinking too

he handles his alcohol very well

let's be honest, you're probably the one drunk

he's going to be taking care of you instead

BUT you never told him how he once drunkenly went up to the bar stage

and started shooing off the performers

before flaunting off his vocals

so that was fun

let's say he hypothetically was wasted tho

i'll use the endoscopy ep as an example like mingi

he's just going to be asleep

just

snore mimimimi snore mimimimi

he might wake up like every half hour

and get all confused

but it's so cute :(

like he's just lifting his head up from your lap

◝(´Ｏ｀)◜

probably definitely drooling tho

it's going to be pretty short for him cause he just doesn't get drunk

he's invincible

networks - @kflixnet k-labels kbookshelf neverendingdreams-net straykidsland @k-films

678 notes · View notes

dilatorywriting · 2 years ago

Note

Reaper!Rook brainrot anon here - I'm back for a little extra >0<

(edit, as I polish this off: I think this turned out longer than the original agddjdkk I'm sorry ;v; I don't really have any fic intention behind any of this. Just pure, unfiltered brainrot that I wanted to share)

One of the things that keeps sticking in my head is how Reaper!Rook (a literal death entity/incarnation) helps you do domestic things, because he thinks it's charming and fun. But Rook is very very not normal and the dissonance it creates is something to behold.

Like for example, Rook knows, down to the approximate 10g how much flour you have left. He's also just generally memorized the exact contents of your pantry even though he's only been in there on a handful of occasions, and for a couple minutes at a time, at that. And once you explain certain recipes to him, he's able to calculate how much more you need of a certain ingredient at what seems to be a moments notice. The villagers (Ace, in particular) find this deeply unsettling, but you fail to see the problem, really. If Rook can remember your entire pantry, then that means you just have to bring him with you when you go to the market, and no longer have to keep track of a grocery list. Where is the downside, Ace? Where is it??

The villagers are watching this, watching Rook, walk behind you, with a 20 kg flour bag on one shoulder, as you smile and chat away together, with a sort of horrified fascination. This Rook and the Rook that brings dead bodies to their doorsteps at 3am does not quite compute. Until they stare a little too long and oop now Rook's looking them right in the eye and there's that supernatural, bone rattling chill deep in their spine and scenes from their life are flashing before their eyes and okay it's time to look away now-

Rook also lives with you now. From the moment you decided to "lie" to your family and Duchess Rosehearts about marrying him, Rook moved in. He was there, actually, when you read the 'proposal' letter, and when he'd asked you what you intended to do about it, it's a pity you didn't look over at him when you'd replied "I suppose I'll just tell them I'm marrying you. " If you had, you'd have seen a moment of genuine, near innocent, surprise flit over his face. It was gone the next moment, and as you'd watched your response letter disappear in a puff of magic smoke, he'd started one of his long soliloquies about the beauty of human nature and how he supposes this means he gets to study it up close now, since he should move in with you if this was to be made believable. And honestly, you couldn't really find it in you to argue with him. You did just rope him into this without really asking him and besides, it's not like you minded Rook's company.

The only thing that does take a little getting used to, is that you now apparently also sell murder at your little bakery. Rook had never had an address before, at least not one that anyone knew. He just showed up when it suited him. But now? Now that word got around that he was here (with you, his fiance, rumor had it) you occasionally got the odd, shuffling merchant who wandered in, eyes darting all over the place, with a single letter for Rook gripped in their fist. Fortunately, none of this seems to bring you any trouble. Either directly or indirectly because of Rook. No-one is going to bother your bakery; either because they dont dare to or because Rook makes it so they literally can't.

Someone from the Rosehearts family does, eventually, come down to your little bakery to ah, verify, your claim. It's Riddle, because of course Duchess Rosehearts wouldn't do something like this herself. Riddle is the more interested in your strawberry tarts than, literally anything else in the vicinity, but when he sees Rook pop out of the backroom you're immediately privy to the way his eyes widen and his face goes pale. The face of one of his servants, Cater, is the more entertaining spectacle, however, and you can't quite explain why you feel so satisfied viewing it. You send them home with tarts, nearly smirking to yourself.

There's serveral people, actually, who try to get you alone and explain that this marriage business may not be the best idea. It's amusing how they walk around saying Rook's name, and even more amusing that these are also the exact same people who'd consistently comment on your lacking marriage status before all of this. Each new person just further convinces you that you should absolutely definitely marry Rook, actually. You'd never really asked Rook to elaborate on if he had any Reaper friends (he'd just winked at you, when you'd asked if there were more like him, once), but you really hope he does so that you can invite them all to the wedding and have them sit next to these people, and you'd get to watch them all squirm in their seats. You don't really dwell on it too long though, because the thought of actually going through with it, the thought of marrying Rook, makes your heart race. You're not sure why - maybe constantly pushing down your feelings ever since you were little really was bad for you after all.

(And yeah! I don't really have anything else beyond... all of this. Just, a largely unbothered, apathetic, MC who ends up going full protective-partner-mode over Reaper!Rook, who scares everyone, but is also very charmingly odd and endering. And just. Rook.)

Holy hell in a hand basket this is so beyond glorious it’s melted my brain to goo. And aaaah of course I’m curled up in bed rn with such bad brain fog from cold meds that I can hardly write out my name legibly, let alone a story. But this is so, so amazing I want to eat it. I want to write an ethereal, reaper, Rook and I’m going to be thinking about this for days oh my goodness. I want to write all this so bad aaaaahhhhqlfbwofbeb maybe after a nap I’ll be a bit more coherent and can attempt because this is AMAZING and deserves Full Focus Brain

#Asks #monster mayhem #Rook Hunt

196 notes · View notes

tracybirds · 11 months ago

Text

Been sitting on this bit of fic for a couple of months :) Think I'm ready to put it out in the world

Hunger Games!AU - initially inspired by @tanushakyrano who I believe is knee deep in their own hg au <3 and also thanks to @gumnut-logic whom I inflicted this on when I first wrote it and played cheerleader :D

Hopefully more to come (I have ideas.....)

---

The clang of metal on metal pulled Gordon from his sleep, the grey light of a new day greeting him. For a moment, he didn’t move. If he stayed still, curled between Alan and Virgil, he could stave off the day and ignore the jolt of fear that clamoured for attention in his belly.

Another clanging pulled Scott upright, muttering as he rubbed a hand across his eyes. He reached out and placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder and shook him roughly.

“C’mon Virg, dawn bell’s ringing.”

Virgil groaned, mumbling for five more minutes, but the day had begun and no-one in the district cared if one of their citizens would rather have a lie in.

Scott glanced across at Gordon as he hauled Virgil upright. “Don’t you have chores waiting? Harvest doesn’t stop just because it’s Reaping Day. You and John better get gone.”

Gordon didn’t say anything, the sick feeling in his stomach intensifying at the word. John was up already, pulling on a threadbare shirt. He didn’t look at any of them.

Alan yawned. “What am I doing today?”

Scott crouched down, smile fixed firmly in place. “You’re going to help Grandma with the meals – try barter with the Jones-es down the way for some grain – and we’ll see you in the afternoon.”

“Can’t I help with harvest? Pol’s been helping since his birthday.”

Scott swallowed thickly. “No, Allie. Not ‘til your first reaping’s done, you remember what Dad said. We’ll talk next summer.”

Alan nodded. “Okay,” he said easily. “Next year then.”

He scurried away without further protest, and Scott slumped forward with a sigh.

“It’ll be over soon,” said John quietly.

No-one said anything, not wanting to speak their fears aloud and invite them into reality.

“I want to apply for extra,” said Gordon, suddenly. “It’s John’s last year, and we need the tesserae.”

“No.”

All three older brothers spoke as one.

Gordon met their horrified gaze steadily, his jaw set and face grim.

“You know I’m right. We nearly didn’t make this year without Virgil’s share. If we lose John’s too and there’s no way to make up the shortfall, what do you think will happen come winter?”

“It’s not worth the risk,” spat Scott, his fists shaking.

Gordon snorted. “It’s no less than what you did for us, or Virgil, or John. I’m fifteen now. John’s put his name in, what, eighteen times this year?”

“Twenty-four,” corrected John. He shrank back from Scott and Virgil’s twin looks of horror.

“I knew it,” said Gordon triumphantly. “Every year since he was fourteen, I’m older than that.”

“This isn’t a game, Gordon,” snapped Virgil. “You don’t win for getting your name in the most times, you just get dead.”

“We need that tesserae,” argued Gordon. “Look, I get it, we’ve been that low before, I can do the math as well as you, but last time that happened we had Dad.”

At once, the light diminished, as though the mere mention of the man who’d towered over their family extinguished all oxygen from the room, taking the candle flame with it.

Scott looked like he wanted to hit something, fists clenching and unclenching at his side.

“We can manage,” said Virgil. “There’ll be three of us working for the adult wage next year, we won’t need the extras.”

“Yes, we will,” interjected John.

The admission fell from gritted teeth. Living was a numbers game in the districts, and no-one kept track of the numbers better than John. Gordon exhaled slowly, hope and dread flickering internally with equal measure.

“He’s right,” said John, his voice louder. “Maybe we’ll survive without it, but that’s no guarantee if the crops fail like they did in ’56. Or if a new craze sweeps the Capitol and they need more grain than usual to make whatever extravagant waste-of-space meal is the hot menu item of the season. There’s too many uncertainties, and we can’t base our food supply on a best-case scenario.”

Virgil chewed at his bottom lip, still staring at Scott worriedly. “We might need to trade for medicine or fuel come winter, too,” he admitted reluctantly. “It was only luck we didn’t lose Gordon right alongside Dad that year. And Coney, she says this winter’s going to be a hard one.”

“What does Coney know?” scoffed Scott. “You’d risk Gordon’s life on a maybe?”

“It’s my choice,” snapped Gordon. “Besides, I’d be six slips out of what, a thousand? We need those supplies and you know it.”

Scott opened his mouth to argue, but a second clanging toll rung out and interrupted him.

“That’s the assembly bell,” said Virgil, eyes darting between Scott and the door. “We need to go.”

Scott hesitated, lips pursed as he levelled Gordon with a solemn look in his eyes. “Your choice. You’re right, I can’t stop you. But please, Gordon, think it through. You don’t know what it’s like to watch your little brothers…” His breath heaved in his chest, and he turned away. “Let’s go,” he said to Virgil, leaving John and Gordon behind.

The tension remained, shooting sizzling static through the air as Gordon tried to catch his thoughts and reorder them.

“You’re going to do it, aren’t you?” said John quietly.

“Next year we’ll need more than seven allotments.”

There wasn’t much else to say. Unless they brought in a fourth wage next year, by manner of marriage which only meant another mouth to feed, they wouldn’t last the winter.

The wages in District 11 were just enough to keep the population meagrely fed when the weather was fair and the farming a success. But there was no margin for error. Consequently, the poorest members of the district were reliant on the reaping for extra resources.

Gordon wasn’t stupid.

The least valuable were always more likely to be selected.

It was simple math.

#thunderbirds are go #sometimes i fic #thunderbirds au #gordon tracy #john tracy #scott tracy #virgil tracy #alan (for like three seconds lol... let the big kids talk haha)

30 notes · View notes

dandelion-wings · 15 days ago

Note

Okay sending a few prompts, feel free to pick and choose which ones you want to do. First! From the first list, 02 Trust Issues for any combination of characters from the house of hearth c:

Thank you for the prompt! <3 I'm so sorry that it took so, so long (and I threw so many different concepts and requests about it at you in the interim, so thank you for your patience with me, as well XD;;). This is, as discussed, not actually whump, but I hope it satisfies nonetheless!

---

ETA: Now on AO3.

---

"So you're the Knave's heir," Marceau says, sitting down at the table where Lynette and Lyney have seated themselves for tea.

Lynette pauses, just for a moment, in pouring water over the leaves. Lyney has frozen; it's an unthinking habit to pause, in synchronicity, just as if they were on stage. For they are on stage, became so the moment that Marceau spoke.

"Haha, she did say she's considering it," Lyney says. "But who knows what the future holds? We'll see what happens after Project Stuzha."

Only Lynette would be able to hear the nervous edge to his laughter, know that the dismissive gesture of his hand is a magician's movement, a magic-trick, pretending to cast a card away while he slips it up his sleeve for later. Lynette resumes her pour.

"Project Stuzha. That's right," Marceau says. "I know it's important, but I haven't heard much about what it entails. Except that a lot of us have been killed conducting our part."

Marceau. A relatively new member of the House of the Hearth, adopted after the drowning of Fontaine. Some of the Hearth's scouts had had an eye on him already, though; his parents hadn't perished in the waters, but died long ago, and he was the sort of feral child who sometimes found the Hearth a suitable home. Cutthroat and ambitious, willing to do what he needed to survive, but secretly desperate for any small token of acknowledgement and care. That desperation had driven him to do things that many would be horrified by. Not the House, though.

*Entering Sentry Mode....*

"i haven't heard much more than anyone else. Father can only tell us what we need for our missions. If it grows too dangerous, she'll fill us in when she feels it's necessary," Lyney says, a smooth performer's smile, a smooth performer's lie. His gaze doesn't flicker for a second.

Neither does Lynette's, focused on the tea, pouring it with perfect precision so that each cup is filled to the exact same depth. She's often thought she has the easier performance, putting no expression on her face at all. Lyney, though, insists that it's more difficult to maintain a blank face than to pay attention to his expressions. As if a blank face requires effort and attention.

"Are you sure we'll hear everything, though? I've heard rumors of that other Harbinger we'll be working with, Dottore, and about how the Knave used to treat members of the Hearth...."

"The last Knave."

"Still, she raised this Knave, didn't she? I know you've known her for a long time, but I'm new here. I'm worried." Marceau looks astonishingly earnest. "What if we're just fodder for this plan? What if she's not really protecting us at all?"

"If I find out anything that suggests that, I'll make sure everyone knows." Lyney says that firmly. Earnest as well, though his earnestness is sincere. "Just like I did with the family who wanted to leave. I wouldn't let Father put us in danger... more danger than we're willing to accept for our family."

"I know that. I trust you. That's why I came to you." Marceau now looks relieved, but an edge of that anxious worry remains. "It's just... if you don't find out before we're all called to Snezhnaya, won't it be too late? We'll be amid the Harbingers, and a lot of us will be so far from home. I... I'd feel more comfortable if you were in charge of our part of the Project."

"No one but a Harbinger would be allowed to control our role in Project Stuzha," Lynette observes, her voice as completely neutral as her face. She passes Lyney his tea, and Marceau another cup.

He takes a quick sip, then sets it down. It clinks a little too hard. Nervousness. "But since you are her heir... if something did happen, you'd be able to take charge. If you had to."

"It won't come to that," Lyney says, smiling at him, a reassurance that Lynette knows is a lie. Now that the seed has been planted, it has to be.

This time, she can tell by the minute way Marceau's shoulders relax that he can tell it is, too.

***

"Father doesn't want us to be used as foot soldiers," Lyney says, pacing back and forth across the length of their bedroom. "That's why she's insisting on running the House's part of Project Stuzha herself. She can't refuse all the orders she's been given, but she can tailor the missions to try to keep anyone who goes as safe as possible. I know she's doing that. She's asked me to look those mission plans over, and you... to go along."

Lynette sits on her bed and watches him pace. Her tail is curled behind her, the very tip twitching in reaction to his constant movement. Sentry Mode is difficult to turn off when Lyney is this wound up.

"Father said my determination to protect my family at all costs is why she wants me to be the next 'king'," Lyney goes on. "She wouldn't send you on a mission where she knows you would be killed. She knows that if you did, I would... I would...."

"It wouldn't suit her plans."

If they are still her plans. Lynette watches Lyney come to a halt, his emotions flashing in a wild rush across his face. *That* isn't a performance. It is unnerving when it happens. Especially when there's so much fear.

Fear for her. Lynette's fear for Lyney is only in visible in the twitching of her tail and the faintest slant of her ears. He sees it anyway, and visibly reins his own emotions in to give her a chagrined smile. A deliberate expression, though his performances for her are even more sincere-looking than those meant for anyone else.

"You're right. After what happened with Filliol and Nanteuil, I shouldn't doubt her. She showed her conviction to care for us all then. She's doing everything she can, and she wouldn't endanger you alone when she knows what the consequences would be."

"She wouldn't endanger me alone," Lynette agrees. "Tell me if she asks *you* to take on any of those missions."

Father has trained Lynette for years now. She knows better than anyone, better even than Lyney, that Lynette is no longer the frightened young girl she rescued from that nobleman. She knows that there will be consequences if anything happens to Lyney, too.

She's wise enough a leader to know that, if she wishes to destroy one, she must destroy the other. If she doesn't end them both before one can reach her....

Lynette won't be leaving Sentry Mode tonight.

***

"I've been hearing an interesting rumor from some of the children," Father says, picking up her teacup and taking a long, slow sip. It's still hot enough that it would burn Lynette's mouth if she drank it yet, but of course that doesn't matter to Father. "They say the two of you are keeping records on who gets sent on missions for Project Struzha. And who comes back."

"Yes," is all Lynette says.

"Good." Father sets her teacup down again and looks Lynette directly in the eyes. Her gaze, as always, burns. Lynette lowers her gaze to her tea; it would be more notable if she didn't. "I keep my own records, but if mine are lost, or questioned, it will be useful to have corroboration."

Lynette nods and contemplates her tea in silence. Father watches her for a moment longer, then turns, elbow resting on the table, to look towards the window.

A bird pecks at some seed someone has left outside. Lynette has been trying not to let it distract her. Her atavistic instincts are strongest in Sentry Mode; when she's paying such close attention to her surroundings, movement always catches her eye.

Reaching out, Father makes a gesture with her hand. Red power flashes towards it. The bird squawks in terror and surprise as flame surrounds it, then huddles in the warmth of the magical cage Arlecchino has formed. She beckons it inside, and it comes to hover over her open palm.

"This one isn't yours," she observes. "Your cats might enjoy playing with it. Do you want to take it for them?"

"No," Lynette says.

Father clenches her open hand into a fist. Flame flares, briefly, and the cage vanishes, with only a wisp of smoke and a faint odor of burnt feathers left behind.

Lynette looks back down at her tea. Father picks up her teacup and takes another sip.

"The House of the Hearth has been asked to carry out two more critical missions for Project Stuzha," Father says. "One of them will require Freminet's diving skills. It's extremely dangerous."

"I can go with him."

"The other is just as risky, and no one with the skills for it has a Vision. If I send those children unaccompanied, I don't expect more than one of them to survive." Father's gaze is on her again, with its unrelenting burn. Lynette meets it this time regardless. "Neither requires Lyney's specialized skills, but Freminet's mission will be in freezing water, under the ice in Snezhnaya. He'll go on that one. I want you to accompany Marceau, Foltz, and Chapleau to steal a certain item from the Tianshu in Liyue."

A freezing dive with the sibling they both know is more vulnerable, whom Lyney loves almost as much as he loves her and would risk just as much to protect. A high-security theft with two of Father's most loyal spies and Marceau, who has been embarrassingly open in his sedition. A perfect opportunity to divide and destroy. If that's what Father wants to do.

"I understand," Lynette says. Her eyes are starting to water from the heat of Father's gaze. She drops them back to her tea. "I'll tell Lyney."

Father nods and tosses back her teacup, draining the last of it in one long gulp. She sets it down as she stands. "The tea was very good," she tells Lynette, starting away from the table. As she reaches the door, she looks back over her shoulder. "Watch your back."

***

Even with Lynette's Vision, they still lose Chapleau.

"You see," Marceau whispers to her on the way back, when they stop in a broken-down barn for a rest. "He was one of the Knave's most faithful. She knew as well as we do that he wasn't as stealthy as we are, or as cutthroat. She knew she was sending him to die."

Father had sent Lynette to protect them, and yet Chapleau had sacrificed himself to cover their retreat with the Tianshu's artifact. His death is as much at Lynette's door as it was at Father's.

Yet if someone stealthier but less able had been sent, it wouldn't have changed that the estate was alerted well before they found the artifact, that it was swarming with guards, that the terrifying shadowy figure who had wrapped Chapleau in cutting strings and nearly caught Lynette in the same had seemed to know they were coming from the start. In that case, Lynette would have been beholden to make that sacrifice instead.

She almost had. She had already been turning to confront that figure when Chapleau unexpectedly shoved her through that door and slammed it shut. She would have died for her family. As Father knew she would.

As Lyney will feel beholden to die for Freminet, if circumstances come out that way. As Father knows he will.

Foltz is lying on the floor of the hayloft, asleep amid the mold and dust. Or at least, he seems to be sleeping.

"She knew any of us might die," she says. "That's part of our duty to the House of the Hearth. Chapleau's sacrifice meant the rest of us lived."

It's what you do for family, she doesn't say. Marceau doesn't feel quite like family yet.

***

Freminet barely makes it. Hypothermia, mostly; he'd pushed himself too far, past his limits, to serve his family and the Hearth. That's not unexpected for Freminet. What was unexpected was the ambush Lyney faced on top of the ice, the one that delayed his rescue until it was almost too late.

"I don't know who they were," he says, alone in their room that night, after Heloir kicks them out of the infirmary. "I couldn't find any identification on the bodies. But they did use elemental powers, and they didn't have the strength of Visions."

Delusions. What other elemental power is available to the Visionless in Snezhnaya, with all its Ley Lines frozen?

"They could have been stolen," Lynette points out. It's important to consider all options.

"I almost lost Freminet." He's pacing again; the tip of Lynette's tail twitches. "I can't lose him- too- again. Father knows that he's- that if he dies- That's why she sent me, isn't it? I can't let Marceau get into my head." He tugs at his hair, gives a self-deprecating laugh, anxiety and remembered terror lurking underneath. Like a monster of a whale under cracking ice. "No one else could have gotten him warm and dry in time to save him. It made sense for me to go."

It did. It made sense, also, that Lyney would have been distracted during that fight, all too aware of Freminet beneath the ice, and of the seconds ticking away as he reached the limit for how long he was supposed to dive and past it. Had his opponents overpowered him, would they have flung him into the dive hole as well, and sealed it up after him? If they had the elemental power to do so, the waters of Snezhnaya aren't the waters of Fontaine. Without time to don his divesuit, he would have drowned. If he hadn't frozen first.

Lynette would have lost them both.

"He survived because of you," Lynette reminds him. "I survived because of Chapleau. We're still a family. We'll figure out what to do together."

"We will." Lyney stops in front of her and gives her a wan smile, no performance at all. Then his fists tighten. "We'll take care of each other, no matter who we have to face to do so."

"We've done it many times before."

"And we'll do it again."

***

The files are grim. Lines of names march down the page. Those sent out; those who survive. Over and over, the most capable, the most trusted, are dispatched. Over and over, the most capable, the most trusted, are killed.

The most capable. The most trusted. The most powerful within the House of the Hearth.

"You understand why I'm worried, don't you?" Marceau asks. He's the one who looks anxious now, fidgeting nervously with the teacup Lynette has handed him.

Lyney is calm, composed, thoughtful and taking this seriously but not at all uncertain or afraid. "It is concerning. Though Father is doing her best to keep us all alive, of course. Sending the most capable members of the House means that they're more likely to survive."

"With no breaks between missions?" Marceau looks doubtful. "They're wearing out. Look at Freminet. Wasn't this his third in a row?"

Both of them do look at Freminet, only just moved from an infirmary bed back into their room. Amid the thick blankets Lyney has piled upon him, he looks small and pale and fragile. He's watching them talk, round-eyed and silent, as he takes tiny trembling sips of his own tea. Listening as intently and intelligently as she is, though, Lynette knows.

"At that rate, most of us will eventually stumble and fail," Lynette agrees.

Lyney frowns. "This isn't sustainable. All of the House's best people will eventually be wiped out. All that family...."

He meets Lynette's eyes. She nods at him.

"I don't see why Father doesn't see that," Lyney goes on.

"But you do," Marceau says. He's fidgeting even harder now, twitching in his seat, restless and eager. Overselling his hand, like a magician on the stage projecting across the theater to his audience, with no sense of how to fine-tune for a more intimate audience. "If you were running Project Struzha...."

"But could I really step into Father's place as 'king'? I'm not ready."

"Can't you get support from the other Harbingers? When he was here, Tartaglia said that Pulcinella likes children, and is kind to his younger siblings. If you come to him with your concerns... when he sees how much you love your 'family,' won't he give you his support?"

This time, Lyney doesn't look at Lynette. She keeps her own eyes on Freminet, who twitches only very slightly under the covers, acknowledging that he'd heard it too. Now they know who Marceau works for. Who had bought him, and taught him, before the House ever took him in.

He's playing on Lyney's fears for a reason, of course. That doesn't mean it isn't working. Lyney is wound up far too tight, a walking disaster, nearly ready to blow, even if Lynette and Freminet are the only people who can tell. Much longer and his own terror will betray him. At the wrong moment, that could be deadly.

He's playing on Lynette's fears, too. That doesn't mean he's wrong.

"I would need a way to contact him," Lyney says, thoughtfully, just before the infirmary door opens.

"Here you all are," Father says, stepping through the door. "I thought the House was too quiet."

Everyone looks up. Lynette meets her hot gaze for only a moment, then turns around to the tea set on the table beside Freminet's bed and pours a fifth cup.

Father takes it with a nod of thanks and stands there beside Lynette, inches away, looking down at Freminet. "Are you recovering well?"

"I am." Freminet's voice is small and thin.

"Does he have another mission coming up?" Lyney says. Guarded, cautious. No dazzling magician's smile for Father. No smoothing his worries away.

She turns to meet his gaze, square-on. Lyney holds it far longer than Lynette could, his eyes showing no sign of watering. He can take the heat better than anyone else.

"If you have concerns, I do hope you'll bring them directly to me," she tells him. "Children should be able to trust their Father with such things."

"After last time, I wouldn't hesitate." Now Lyney smiles, that chagrined expression, far more suitable to this conversation than something bright and dazzling. "Actually, I *am* concerned. The rate of these missions... if we keep only sending our best out on them, they'll eventually push themselves too far and wear out, just like Freminet. It was only luck that he came back alive."

"It wasn't luck, it was you. Don't underestimate yourself." Father's eyes narrow. "You tend to do that. It's something that calls for improvement."

Lyney is startled into silence, and that's not a performance at all.

"That's true," Lynette says, because it is. "But it's also true that not everyone in the House has our capabilities, and even those of us with Visions or Delusions can push ourselves too far. Once we do, less experienced members of the House will have to be sent out in our place, and will be more likely to fail from the outset."

"I know," Father says. Her shoulders tighten. "That is my responsibility to deal with, and I will. Someday those who desire their victories at our expense will find out what they have to pay in turn."

She sets her teacup down slightly too hard, untouched, then turns away and starts for the door. Lynette doesn't relax. Not yet.

"Now," Marceau says behind her, beside Lyney, unexpectedly loud.

Father spins about, her hand coming out at her side, her scythe appearing in her grip. It sweeps out as she continues the spin, the wicked blade flashing towards Lyney and Marceau. Her eyes are wide and hot, pupils flared, the room suddenly an oven.

Lynette's teacup shatters on the floor as she lunges forward, her sword coming to her own hand before Father is more than halfway through the spin. She drives it into Father's stomach. Father's grip spasms on her scythe, and Lynette sees its haft slide through her hand, feels the tip of it lodge into her back, catching on a rib, right beside her spine.

In the corner of her eye Lyney is scrambling to his feet. Then he cries out and sinks to his knees. Marceau stands behind him, a bloody knife in his hand.

"All three of you," he whispers, his eyes wide, an almost transcendent look on his face. "He only wanted one. The 'king,' or her heir, or his only weakness.... I was trying for the Knave. He'd reward me most richly for the Knave. But *all three* of-"

The greatsword comes down upon him from behind, straight down from his shoulder and through all the way to his hips. Freminet leaves it in as Marceau falls, doubling over himself and panting hard, determination still blazing in his eyes.

Father lets go of her scythe and glances briefly at the blood on the tip as it clatters to the ground. She reaches out and slides her fingers under Lynette's, taking the hilt of the sword and pulling it from her own stomach to be discarded alongside the swiftly-dissolving scythe. One hand over her wound, she steps over, crouches beside Lyney, and puts her other hand over his.

"I'll get Heloir," Freminet gasps, slowly straightening. "Lynette, you should... sit down, I'll be right back."

Lynette reaches back and can just barely get the tips of her fingers over her own injury. It's deeper than she'd thought. Taking two steps back, she sits down on the edge of Freminet's bed and feels the blood trickle down her back.

Despite the calm with which she'd pulled out the sword, Father's pupils are still blown wide, the room nearly boiling from her unfocused gaze, her panting as harsh and uncontrolled as Lyney's, though stronger than his. She looks up at Lynette with a familiar, calculating expression. No, not quite familiar. There's a doubt that Lynette has never seen in it before.

She hadn't been surprised when Lynette had stabbed her.

She had sent Chapleau and Foltz with Lynette and Marceau, instead of asking Lynette to draw him out herself.

She hadn't trusted Lynette any more than Lynette had trusted her.

Marceau had needed to only take out one target of three. That he hadn't simply tried to knife Lynette during that journey home, when she was worn and weary and Foltz seemed asleep, suggested that it wasn't his only mission here. Of course. He was meant to sow discord.

However she may conceal it, Father, too, must be capable of fear.

"The Rooster sent him," Lynette says. Her own voice sounds hollow and odd, as if she's underwater. "He told us that we could ask him for support."

Father's jaw tightens, and the look of doubt fades away. "Then he'll pay the debt he owes even sooner than he might have expected."

"Good."

"Good," Lyney echoes, hissing through clenched teeth.

The room is cooling rapidly. Lynette reaches out with her free hand and picks up Father's teacup from the table beside the bed. When she drinks, it holds just enough of Father's heat to make her feel warm.

#asked and answered #why not meme i guess #man this thing had. so many incarnations #someday i still want to write the toxic arlecchino/lynette idea i discarded for it #(though. in a way. is this not also toxic arlecchino/lynette)#ascended fic

5 notes · View notes

ghostonly · 2 years ago

Text

Hello everyone, today i bring you:

Things Americans don't realize they have the shittiest version of

Things the Swiss Do Better

At the top of the list, brought to you straight from the bath,

Bathtubs

Are you a full sized adult who longs for the days of childhood when they could lie down in a bathtub and get fully submerged? Do you wish you could stretch your legs out instead of bending them in half and neglecting your ever-coldening knees?

The solution is easy! Go literally anywhere else!

Okay I admit I have actually no idea how most other countries do this; I'm in Switzerland right now staying with my partner. The tubs here are huge. Upon describing the ones I'm used to, my partner was absolutely horrified, so I have to assume this is the norm, because it seems much more likely that most places in the world make adult sized tubs than sad little baby sized ones like the US.

This thing is like 20ish inches deep. When I put my elbow to the bottom, my fingertips are only about an inch higher than the edge. I'm 5'7 and can stretch my full height, the top of my head only sticking a few inches above the edge on the sloped end. This thing makes me feel so short. I'm 250lbs and can rotate fully. None of my torso touches the sides unless you count my upper arms, which don't if I pull them tighter against me. I haven't had a bath like this since I was 6.

Yogurt

I spent my entire life thinking I hated yogurt. It turns out yogurt is actually delicious! ... If it's not American. That sad, overly sweetened, gelatinous, low fat nonsense we've been eating is an affront to good yogurt everywhere (but especially in Switzerland.)

Decent yogurt... It tastes less sugary, yet sweeter - the difference between a gas station donut and a piece of fruit you just picked off a tree. Don't get me wrong, I love a good gas station donut... Just not as much as literally anything here.

I was excited to share American donuts with my partner since donuts here suck, but the problem is that, while US donuts are better than any donut here, they are significantly worse than literally any other dessert here. I got here/brought them two weeks before Christmas. Sadly, they ended up getting composted. There was simply too much better shit to eat.

I digress. The yogurt has a natural sweetness, it's not as thick, which you might think is a bad thing until you realize that the thickness of American yogurt is almost definitely achieved with some kind of thickening agent to make up for the complete lack of creaminess. The yogurt here is thinner but more creamy. It's so nice that I've gone from adamant yogurt hater to eating one all but two mornings since I've gotten here.

Toilet paper

Okay this is a weird one and, again, I admit it could just be a gap in my experience, bit I have lived on the west coast, in the midwest, and in the south of the US, with many different people with many different preferences and I have yet to find toilet paper like this.

The toilet paper here does not have squares. The squares are elongated (rectangles). It's like two ply and it's not soft, but it is thick and firm. The US toilet paper market is so good about pushing a narrative about toilet paper needing to be soft to spare your asshole that we have completely fallen for a scheme that ensures we must use more toilet paper and end up less clean in the end.

Soft, thick toilet paper may feel nicer but you end up having to wipe more because it's never as good at staying together as they claim it is. They can do as many 'drag tests' as they want to show how it stays together, but a flat surface and a hairy ass are not the same thing. Anyway tmi but I use like half as much toilet paper now and never have anything getting left behind.

Doorknobs (THEY DON'T HAVE THEM)

That is to say, doors have handles here. Those round fuckers you twist are nowhere in sight. You might think this is a minute difference that isn't important but you would be wrong. Hands full? Just lean your elbow on the handle. Bam, door is open. Knobs might have been a stylistic marvel in the design world at some point but, practically, they're a fucking nightmare.

Chocolate

Okay I know you've heard this one before but it's usually Europeans scoffing at American chocolate so I'm giving you the American take which is that they're completely right to be scoffing at American chocolate.

I brought a bunch of expensive-ish, Dove mint chocolates with me to share with my partner. The fact aside that he doesn't like mint chocolate apparently, I ate one a couple weeks after getting here(I didn't before then because I was too busy horfing down Swiss chocolates) and it was like their goodness had just fucking disintegrated. I was so disappointed. I had been shoveling these in just weeks before coming here because they were impossibly good and so smooth and luxurious and now I have this big fucking canister of disappointment chocolate. It's not bad... But considering this is some of the better mainstream chocolate in America, that's a devastating downgrade in status.

Ferrero Rocher is extremely common here (it's Italian in origin, just south of Switzerland). I keep feeling like I'm the only one eating it and I finally asked my partner if anyone else is going to eat it because I don't want to eat all the fancy chocolates and he said, "It's not really exciting to us."

Hello??? This is the fanciest of mainstream chocolate in the US!!

The same goes for Lindt Lindor truffles, which are Swiss. They're so accessible here they're not even fancy, they're just average chocolates.

Don't even get me fucking started on the chocolate from the confectionary that we bought when I first got here. We got about eight pieces of different flavors and have only just finished them because each time we had some, we each had one piece. They were so fucking divine that I couldn't eat the rest in one sitting because I was too busy ascending to another plane of existence. Don't get me wrong, we took our time because they're really expensive, but I'm telling you that was okay. One of them was so good that it completely satisfied my desire for chocolate. That's how insanely powerful these chocolates are.

Conclusion

All of the things I hated about America, while in America, have become just kind of baffling to think back on since coming here. Like, how is the US even like this? How is it that bad? It has its merits, but mainly in character and culture, not in quality of life. Anyway, of you ever have the sliver of a chance to go to Europe, absolutely do it, even if its just to visit. I haven't been this happy in my life. Yeah that's largely because I'm finally here with the love of my life after five years of online-only, but a not insignificant chunk is also the quality of life. I've been poor and/or just skirting homelessness for the last 7 years, so this is like whiplash. Anyway I just wanted to share these things. Mainly the tub and yogurt, those are just mind-blowing. I hope it was all a bit interesting to read.

#Switzerland #America #culture #chocolate #food #breakfast #yogurt #Joghurt #bath #cozy #Europe #original

22 notes · View notes

the-firebird69 · 1 year ago

Text

It is true that if you go to jail or prison that social security shuts off your social security and when you get out you can reinstate it. Now they have some bum charges I'm inviting on Biden there's bum charges. He's on the woods to give him three days to vacate and he couldn't get out of there and they arrested him and his b******* because if you're a vagrant and you're in Florida there's a law that says you have 30 days to find a place to go now they're doing it to everybody and the idiots did it to Biden so the max are using what they did to Biden on the idiots so it's kind of a stupid thing they keep doing and the paying for the indiscretion and saying that Biden is doing it which is a lie. You're trying to rope our son into this stupid s*** all the time and say that we're doing it and that would be the max and it's a nightmare and our son just gets very angry and orders us to do stuff right now or taking over bases all over the place American bases and you ordered us to do it people had abandoned them and they did this program and having idiots bomb their own people and they could not hold on to the bases so we are tearing some stuff out we're beefing it up we're going to put citadel and other and they'll be horrified because they did that some of these bases are gigantic in the perimeter and he wants Pendleton and we're going to work at taking it and I know what he means just suckers have to pay but really there's some intense stuff that they do here and his threats and it's all day and all night and they're absurd okay they are absolutely out of there freaking minds this massive crazy people and they're pushing everybody around and blaming them and you know it's like ping Pong we can see it all the players and what you're doing and we know that you're doing it and you're not getting it damn thing and you're going to lose we're going to start taking land here cuz you're doing the stupid s*** and we saw him back Daddy doing it I want to care if it's sick but not his mommy I'm putting the orders out now to start getting aggressive with you people you're going to sit around and farting you don't want any cars you don't want any bikes and no trucks and you want to just win because you're threatening one guy of ours and he says it's absurd too wouldn't give you a damn shoelace for the stupid threats because I would have rather tied around your neck and take it off after you're gone these are things we hear him saying all the time this guy is a lunatic and things everything is for free like low-lying fruit and the big ships he hasn't gotten one chip and yeah Tommy after it's worse much worse but Mac is going to sit around if things don't happen he just sits there like other people do stuff then he tries to take it it's terrible and he's not taking from us so you can see why these guys just sat down and folded it makes sense they needed to Papa and their father to him do stuff and he wasn't doing anything so I'm trying to take stuff and use him as a laundry and didn't work at all. Right now they're trying to go after his social security that's our son Zeus and they're using and yes torture for his wife. They're using all sorts of excuses he got money in this year he got money in that year and it's like well just deduct that from the money you owe him it's like $2,000 no it's taxes and he doesn't know on the taxes and he didn't do real work and he was kind of forced into it and roped into it and mac daddy is complicitous we're going to start swinging today and we're going to open up those things and say you're doing this and threatening for this and he's going to lose the game for the max because so cheap and mean and he's really cheap

Thor Freya

Used to this and you used to do this and used to do that and you don't anymore Mac and you lost it you want your $30 that you said I didn't have to pay and I paid you already so you're full of s*** and you're a loser now and you're bringing partially melded with the idiot in front and you're going down the river when I understand anyways and the max don't like you and your clan is shrinking you had normal boys in there with them f****** around with them taking this stuff they found them and they're getting rid of the rest of them it'll be your half idiot kids

Zues then it's off to coffee with Garth who is really an absolute retarded loser Hera

0 notes

simpclub9 · 3 years ago

Text

Because you're mine | Yandere! Tengen Uzui + wives x GN Reader

You shivered as you stood in front of the big house. The snow starting to cover your feet and geta. Your mind drifts to the events of that morning.

----

"Y/n, it's morning already," Hina said gently shaking you. "Today is going to be a busy day, we have guests tomorrow and we still haven't done anything! Maki and Suma are not helping at all."

You figured as much with all the noise and screaming from outside.

Since the other co-wives were too busy crying and fighting Hina and you started to work on the house.

"Oh, God! We don't have enough rice for the onigiri." Hina said turning to you as you sliced the vegetables.

"I can go outside and pick it up if you want." You said looking at the woman hopefully.

A long time had passed since Tengen had kidnapped you and made you part of his family. You quickly found out that his wives were as possessive and obsessive with you as he was. They hadn't let you leave the house for months now, but you had been so well behaved in the last few weeks that maybe they wouldn't mind you going to buy more rice.

Hina looked at you uncertainly. "Maki and Suma are busy and they're not going to buy the right amount. I'm just going to buy rice Hina, I'll be back." You said smiling at the woman. Of course, you wouldn't be back. This house took the life out of you.

"You will be back?"

"Yes, you know I love you all"

"Okay, then, but let's not tell Tengen, he would be so mad at me if you ran away"

"Sure, I'll be back with the rice."

With that, she gave you the money and you departed. Waving at the woman who stood at the door, you smiled. I hope I'll never see you again Hina.

After getting out of her field of view your steps became quicker until you started running.

"Y/n?"

That voice. You stop running. Turning around with eyes wide open. There he stood, Tengen Uzui.

"I-i was just going to buy rice, Hina didn't have enou-"

"Don't lie to me"

You had seen Tengen mad, but he had not looked so horrifying as he did at that moment.

---

And now you're here. Out in the cold. Tengen had used rope to tighten you to one of the pillars that stood in front of the house. You had been here for ours, it is so cold you don't feel your feet anymore.

"Tengen! I made a mistake, please I love you, let me come inside, I won't leave you" You screamed to the house.

Nothing happened. Your strengths finally reached the end. And you slowly faded into the darkness.

---

Tengen opened the door. He quickly ran to you as he noticed you weren't awake. He didn't want to hurt you, you just needed to understand that the best pla- no, the only place you could be was with him. He picked you up and brought you inside.

As he entered the house his wives rounded him. "How is y/n?" "It's so cold outside, you have to put y/n by the fire"

"Enough! Y/n is fine, go to your rooms"

They obeyed.

The hashira brought you to his room. He put you down by the fire.

"You need to learn to stay here y/n. It's the only place you can go. I'll make sure it is. Because you are mine."

#yandere #tengen uzui #uzui tengen #tengen uzui x reader #uzui tengen x reader #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #yandere uzui #yandere tengen #yandere uzui tengen #yandere tengen uzui #yandere uzui wives

3K notes · View notes

missmonsters2 · 3 years ago

Note

today I feel awful... idk my insecurities are taking over me and I just want to curl into a ball and cry. maybe it's my hormones maybe the fact that I weighted myself and found out I gained weight (I can't fit into my jeans 😭) and the fact that I saw my sister in a tight skin dress looking perfect while I'm in my pj's just destroyed my confidence. I need something angsty to read to make me forget about my sad, miserable lffe right now. would you be down in writing sth angsty with nat maybe? you don't have to though. it's fine either way. I really appreciate all of your work and I keep reading on repeat whenever I'm feeling down. makes me cheer up. thank you, van ❤️

It's like we're the same person because I also went to visit my sister recently and my sister has gotten her life together and is living her best hot girl bod while I...let's not go there.

I just want you to know that you're hot as fuck and a body is just a body that we can change with time and effort. We're lit rally in this together. This time next year, we will be rocking the body that makes up happy and we'll be healthy!!! 💘💘

But I will still give you nat angst...but with a happy ending bc I said you deserve a HEA!!

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The Withers of Springtime Bloom

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spring is a time of blooming and when things come back to life. You can't help but notice things that may be causing your relationship with Natasha to wither.

Warnings: self-esteem issues, insecurities about body, relationship with working out and food, seasonal depression. angst with HEA.

Count: 2.1k~

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You're not sure when things changed.

Things change so slowly after all.

Without you noticing, things change and change and change until one day, you do notice.

You notice that Natasha has become quieter, somber.

You notice the lack of date nights and affectionate touches.

You notice that you've let yourself go a little.

You're standing in front of the mirror, staring at your body with a frown. You've gained weight since dating Natasha, but relationship weight gain was normal, wasn't it?

But you remember how Natasha was just as fit as she was before she met you. Sure, she was a superhero, and you were a regular civilian; there was no reason for you to train long hours as Natasha did.

Still...

You turn to the side and peer at yourself in the mirror again.

You can't help but wonder...were you becoming less attractive to her?

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

It had been the beginning of fall when you met Natasha. You loved the season of change and when things turned into warm colors before withering away for winter to come.

Natasha had come like a blessing, and in the winter, she was just warm as the colors of fall. Instead of withering away, she bloomed and invested that warmth in your relationship with her.

Despite always being an early riser to work out, weekends were the days she stayed in bed with you just a little longer. There had been so many breakfasts, lunch, and dinner dates. You found yourself moving things around or neglecting to work around her busy schedule.

Perhaps that was when things began to change. Eating out so often and forgoing working out to spend time with Natasha was what led to this.

Spring has arrived, and things are coming back to life. Yet somehow, your relationship with Natasha was withering away.

"Hey," you greet her as you come home, shopping bags in hand. You bought some more clothes when things felt like they didn't fit comfortably anymore. The experience had been upsetting for you, and you didn't end up buying too much, telling yourself you didn't want to spend too much when you were going to lose the weight.

Natasha was working in her office, peering down over reports, and barely acknowledged you other than with a hum.

"Long day?" You ask her as you put your things away and walk over to her.

"Yeah," Natasha sighed. "Trying to get these reports done since Maria needs them tomorrow."

That had been Natasha's excuse for spending long hours in her office every night for the last two weeks.

You place your hand on Natasha's shoulder with a reassuring squeeze, but she leans to the side as if to readjust herself, but still away from your touch.

The sting immediately comes, but you try to push it down, so it doesn't hurt as bad.

"Right," you say hoarsely, but Natasha stares on at the reports. "I'm just going to get ready for bed. It's been a long day and all. Let me know if you need anything."

Natasha gives you a nod as you leave the room. You feel awkward as you lie in the bed you share with her. You wonder if you're taking up too much space.

There's a pang of something as you try to curl yourself to be smaller and only distantly realizing you've skipped dinner before you fall asleep.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You fall back onto the mat, chest heaving and your lungs burning.

It's been a while since you've worked out, and now you're definitely paying for it with how unfit you are.

The gym is moderately empty with the hour it is. You hate going to a public gym because it always feels like someone is staring, but it's better for strangers to stare than working out at the Compound for people you know to stare at you.

The rational part of you knows that you should just talk to Natasha, but the emotional side of you whispers that you won't like what Natasha has to say, that she might even end it before you've had a chance to change yourself.

When weeks pass, and you weigh yourself again, you almost start crying because you've only lost a couple of pounds.

It's normal, you know it is. You're losing weight at a normal rate, but it's not enough. You know fast weight loss wouldn't make sense for your body but you also feel you don't have half a year to go back to your normal weight.

You sit on the bathroom floor for hours, debating what to do when you hear a quiet knock.

"Sweetheart, are you in there?" Natasha's muffled voice comes through.

You wipe at your eyes furiously as you stand up.

"Y-Yeah," you answer back. "I'm just in the tub soaking."

There's a moment of silence through the door before Natasha answers back, "Alright. Enjoy yourself. Did you want me to order anything specific for dinner?"

"No, it's okay," you tell her. "You order anything you want. I already ate on my way home." You think about the chicken salad you've been eating for the past two weeks and almost sigh.

Natasha answered that she just came back to see if you've eaten, but she actually had to head back to the Compound. You were Natasha shuffling around before leaving through the front door, and you let out the breath you were holding.

You actually take a long, hot shower before putting on sweats and a big hoodie.

The truth was, you were hungry. The chicken salad was okay on the way home, but it had been a couple of hours since.

You knew starving yourself wasn't the answer, so you went into the kitchen to see if you could find something healthy to hold you over until you could go to bed.

But you can't find anything in the fridge except for Natasha's leftovers from whatever she ordered the day before. You can't find anything except frozen pizzas and microwavable foods.

You check the calories on the back and let out a frustrated sigh. Checking your watch, you realize it's too late in the evening to go grocery shopping because, by the time you get there, stores will have closed.

You slump down on the floor, leaning against the cabinets as you let out a pathetic whimper while your eyes became hot with tears.

You miss Natasha. You want Natasha holding you and telling you it would be okay. But you couldn't have that until you were back to what you were when you met her.

The front door suddenly opens.

"Have you seen my—sweetheart?" Natasha started to call before she noticed you sitting on the floor. "What's wrong?"

You use your sleeve to wipe at your eyes as you sit up straight.

"Nothing," you sniffle before you start to stand. "I just stubbed my toe against the edge of the kitchen island. What were you looking for? USB? You left it next to the bedside."

Natasha stares at your back, hair still wet as she takes in your attire.

"It's a little hot to be wearing a hoodie and sweats, isn't it?" Natasha asks softly. "Doesn't seem like you turned on the aircon in here."

You keep walking, but Natasha starts to follow you.

"'m cold," you say quietly so she can't hear the tremble in your voice.

"Are you feeling sick?" Natasha asks with concern as you sit down on the couch, turning on the TV. You pull the blanket over you as if to make your point.

"No," you tell her because you don't want her to worry. "Just cold after a bath."

Natasha sets her things down before she takes a seat next to you. Even in the low lighting, she can see your eyes rimmed red and dampness of them.

You're refusing to look at her as you have your knees drawn up to your chest and stare stubbornly at the TV screen.

Then she hears it.

Your stomach grumbles.

"Are you hungry, sweetheart?" Natasha asks softly again. "We can just order food and stay in tonight."

Your cheeks grow hot. "Don't you have to be at the Compound?"

You don't mean to snap at her, but you can't help but feel embarrassed.

Natasha remains quiet for a moment, quickly thinking over the last few weeks before she feels guilt trickle in.

She doesn't remember the last time she ate with you—doesn't remember the last time she saw you eat.

"Sweetheart," she calls you gently again, and you bristle at the tone. "Is there something wrong?"

The fragile dam you've built to keep the weeks of compiling emotions at bay breaks, and you're hurtling down the stream over the waterfall.

"Are you not in love with me anymore?" You choke out as you begin to cry.

You can't even register to feel horrified at your breakdown because you just need to know.

"I know...I know my body has changed since we first met and I've gained weight but I really am trying to lose it. I just—I feel like you're avoiding me. At first, I thought things at work have been really stressful for you, and I wanted to give you space but you're gone all the time. You're gone even when you're here."

Natasha can barely understand anything you've said after hearing you say the first part. Her breath hitches painfully in the back of her throat, and she legitimately feels appalled at herself.

She starts to say something, but you keep going.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to make this about me because if you're going through something then I want to support and be there for you. But I can't help but feel like you're grossed out by me. I mean—I feel grossed out when I look at myself. I feel like I'm taking up so much space—"

Natasha cuts you off abruptly, pulling off the blanket as she pulls at you until you're in her lap.

"Nat—"

"You're not gross and this is not about the weight you have or have not gained. You hear me?" Natasha says forcefully as she holds you close to her, hand over your thigh to keep you against her.

"God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry if I've been making you feel like you're not attractive me," Natasha's eyes well up as your tears wet her shoulder. "You're literally still the most gorgeous person I've ever met and you're always going to be that to me."

Natasha's hand at your waist dips underneath your hoodie, her fingers trailing up your back as she sighs at your warmth. "I should've told you, but the springtime is just really hard for me. It's odd because it's a time for things to come back to life but some of the worst things have happened to me during the spring and things blooming makes me think about things that aren't coming back. I think it's also just a little bit of seasonal depression too. I'm just the rare percentage that gets it in the spring."

The explanation makes your body sag with relief because while you feel so horrible that there is a reason Natasha doesn't like spring, she's not falling out of love with you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that I was hurting you," Natasha apologizes again. "I didn't mean to be so distant but I didn't want to bring your mood down as well, which is why I've been working so much to keep busy."

"It's okay," you muttered as your turn your head, forehead pressed against her neck. "I'm sorry spring is depressing for you."

Natasha merely hushes you as she kisses the side of your head.

You begin to feel awkward, thinking about how you must be heavy on her and try to move, but Natasha doesn't let you.

"Sweetheart, I don't know how to convince you that you're perfect to me," Natasha says so seriously as she forces you to look at her. "If you want to lose weight because that is what you want, then I support you. But I need you to understand that I love you no matter what. I don't care either way because you're so fucking lovely to me always. Do you understand?"

Timidly, you reply, "Okay. Thank you."

Natasha presses her lips against yours in a long kiss before she pulls back.

"Now, I'm going to ask again. Are you hungry? We can order in and watch that new show on Netflix I heard was pretty good from Wanda."

You feel lighter. You think you might still want to work out because that would make you happy, but you don't feel the rush like you did just a couple of hours ago.

"Yeah," you say shyly. "But maybe something not so heavy?"

Natasha nods as she presses another kiss into your cheek as she helps you settle onto the couch right beside her to grab her phone.

"Anything to make you bloom."

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff oneshot #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow imagine #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #mm: my fics #g.angst #g.fluff

680 notes · View notes

starlightxsvt · 3 years ago

Text

3 dates | epilogue

pairing ➳ badboy!Seungcheol x female!reader

genre ➳ badboy au, romance, some fluff, angst, bad attempt at humour, gets spicy at the end.

word count ➳ 3.5k (total 15.6k)

warnings ➳ cursing, mentions of killing, mentions criminal activities, slight violence(non explicit), smoking, ma man Seungcheol ain't your typical badboy, blackmailing, reader does all sorts of risky things cuz she's a SIMP, blood(nothing explicit), kissing, marking, some breast worshipping, grinding, reader is horny lol. (Please lemme know if I forgot anything.)

a/n : here's the epilogue to 3 dates since tumb1r won't let me post the whole fic in one post :) Enjoy!

Part 1

As time progresses and days turn into weeks and then into months you are not left with the luxury to cry over Seungcheol. Instead you are bombarded with assignments and projects from your uni and you drown yourself completely in work to forget the scathing pain. Katelyn figured out something is wrong with you and even though talking about that man pains you too much, you told her that you are done with him and you won't be seeing him again in this lifetime. Katelyn did not ask any questions after that as you said you needed time to heal, time to forget even though you have serious doubts he'd ever leave your mind.

You have also applied for an internship to keep you even busier so that when you return home you are too tired to let the thoughts of him plague your mind as you drift off to sleep. And just like that, you have developed a routine, work, eat and sleep, trying your best to allow yourself to not think about him.

Despite that sometimes, some very few times, you think of him, wonder how he's doing, wonder if he's safe. You ponder if he thinks of you, if he regrets his decision but you don't have any answer. You simply hope he does.

After another day full of assignments and projects you almost doze off to sleep as soon as you hit your bed until you are intruded by the loud ringing of your phone. Annoyed, you reach for it, wondering who would be calling so late.

The caller ID has your heart doing a backflip, the name you were unable to delete from your heart and your phone flashing on the screen as you instantly sit up in your bed. It's Seungcheol.

Why is he calling so late?

You wait a few seconds, scared to pick up, scared that he might have called accidentally. But before you lose your chance, you inhale deeply and pick the call up. "Hello?" You speak, your voice tentative.The silence from the other end makes your heart fall and your suspicion come true. He called you accidentally and now he will realize it and hang up. You're about to speak again when his voice floats through.

"Hi."

The emotions you feel are overwhelming, undescribable. You're relieved, you're sad, you're excited, you want to cry and scream at the same time. That one word from him has you feeling tingles all over and makes you feel like you just did a hundred laps. Anyhow you manage to speak. "Hey." Your voice almost cracks and tears almost slip past your cheeks. You don't know why you are so emotional. "I just...I just wanted to hear your voice." He sounds so tired...so dejected and your heart breaks. Never in your life did you imagine him to call and say those words to you but instead of feeling happy, a current of melancholy hits you.

Why does he sound so broken?

"Seungcheol? Is...is everything alright?" Your voice is feather like, soft and careful. You hear him sigh loudly and you get your answer. Instead of replying to you, he asks, "How have you been?"

"I'm...fine," you lie. You have been nowhere near fine. He hums noncommittally and you're about to ask him the same question before you realize how dumb it would be. If his voice is any indication he is anything but fine. "____?" He calls your name softly. "Y-yes?" You whisper.

He stays silent, for so long that you think he hung up. "I- I just...can I see you?" He seems to have a hard time gathering his words.

What? You lurch out of bed pushing your covers aside in excitement, trying to prevent a gasp out of your lips. Did you even hear correctly? He wants to see you?

"Wha... what do you mean?" You mumble. You hear him sigh loudly, "I...I am in front of your apartment. Just come down for a minute." You don't need to hear any more words as you are dashing towards your front door in your pajamas, not disconnecting the call. You take the elevator and come out of the building as fast as possible, bumping into things in your way but not giving a care. You feet stops as you stand in front of the entrance to your building, eyes searching wildly for Seungcheol. "Stay there," his voice comes through the phone, just as you spot him standing on the opposite to your building, decently far but not far enough that you can't see.

A horrified gasp leaves your mouth as your eyes finally land on him.

He stands there, bruised, his beautiful face marred with scratches and wounds, his clothes having patches of dirt and if you are seeing correctly his left arm is bleeding as he holds the phone next to his ear with the other.

"Seungcheol-" you're about to rush towards him. "Don't move." He cuts you off, looking you in the eye. Even from afar you don't miss the dark, commanding gaze of him. "Just...just stay there. Just...let me look at you."

No- why is he doing this?

Tears slip down your cheeks, "Seungcheol-" You are interrupted once more, "Please. I- I missed you and...I needed to see you. Just let me hear your voice and look at you like this." His voice almost cracks and you can see the emotion in his eyes.

Your heart breaks.

Why does he keep doing this? Why does he keep pushing you away? Why does he torment himself like this?

You stand there, rooted to the ground, quiet sobs leaving your mouth. He comes here all bruised and wounded and expects you to stay away? How can you when you can clearly see him in pain?

You grip the phone tighter, watching him as he stands there, not moving an inch. His eyes never leaves you as he drinks you in, like this is the last time he's gonna look at you. You can't stand it anymore. Hanging up the phone you run towards him, as fast as your nimble legs can carry you. You can't stay away, you just can't. Not when he looks so hurt and lost and lonely.

Your body smashes against his as you wrap your arms tightly around his torso, your head buried in his chest. He stumbles back from the force and for a while he stays unmoved and you hold your breath, half expecting him to shove you away. But he doesn't. Instead he pulls you firmly against him resting your head on his chest while burying his face in your hair.

The tears come naturally. Loud, ungraceful sobs emerge from you as you cling to him like your life depends on it, your grip on him unyielding. Seungcheol softly pets your hair as your cries fill the silence of the cold night. You pull back just a little to look at his face and you want to once more. There's a cut above his brow and some bruises on his cheek and nose and another cut on his lower lip. But you can't bring yourself to care as you lean above to press your lips against his. You don't dare hold back, kissing him like the world is about to end. Seungcheol reciprocates, tilting your head for better access as his tongue prods into your mouth and you taste the metallic flavour of blood. The kiss is messy, all teeth and tongue, an outpour of the bottled up feelings of the last couple months.

You both take a lungful of air when you pull back and you're about to dive in for more when you realize his arm is injured. "Wha- how did this happen?" You hiccup, wiping away your tears as you gently reach for his bleeding arm. His clothes are torn at the part of the wound and from what you can see, it looks like a knife injury, a thin, slanted cut on his upper arm as if someone slashed him. "It's nothing," he says trying to push your hand away.

"It's not nothing, Seungcheol!" You're yelling before you know it. It's the exasperation, the accumulated frustration over the days that makes you snap.

Seungcheol seems to be shocked at your outburst as he blinks at you, an astonished look on his face. He's kind enough to reply honestly this time. "Got into a fight. I was outnumbered. It's okay, it's nothing serious, I've had worse," his voice is small, almost timid which is definitely unlike him.

Of course he has had worse.

You let out a tired breath. "Come on, you're bleeding. Let me help you." You wrap a hand around his uninjured arm, tugging him towards your apartment.

"No, you don't have to-" he protests but you pin him down with a look. "Please," you speak, your voice low. "I can't let you go like this. Just let me clean your wound." Seungcheol presses his lips into a thin line as if trying to prevent himself from speaking further. When no more words leave his mouth, you drag him into your building in silence.

Entering your unit you help Seungcheol sit down in your small living space as you quickly pad towards the bathroom for the first aid kit. When you return you find him looking around your place with a curious glow in his eyes similar to a child's. As your eyes meet, he sits up straighter and tries to remove his jacket. You aid him in the process, discarding the material on the floor as you take a seat next to him, the first aid kit in your lap.

Thankfully he's wearing a tank top as it gives you easy access to his biceps. You would have stopped to admire and ogle them if he wasn't hurt, which he is and you mentally smack yourself for having such thoughts right now. Seungcheol's eyes does not leave your face as he silently gazes at you and if you didn't know any better you would say he looked at you fondly.

Swallowing, you sanitize your hands before proceeding to clean his wound. Seungcheol tenses beside you, low, pained grunts leaving his lips a few times as you disinfect the cut. But he says nothing, letting you do the work and you don't speak either focused on the task at hand. You then do the same for his face and finish your work by wrapping a bandage around his bicep and sitting back, exhaling a satisfied sigh. Unintentionally your eyes connect to his and you find his scorching gaze on you, those mesmerising eyes almost piercing through your soul. Feeling self aware, you abruptly stand up, coughing to clear your throat. "You should take a shower. I have some extra clothes for my parents when they come over. My dad's clothes should fit you."

"No, it's alright. I should leave." He murmurs. "You're already here. Might as well take a shower. There's no rush," you say sternly, trying to make him agree.

Truth is you want him to stay, at least the night.

Seungcheol sits quietly for a while as if contemplating before surrendering with a sigh. "Okay." "Good. The bathroom's this way," you point towards the attached bath in your room and Seungcheol mutely follows. You offer him a towel and you dad's pajamas, hoping they'd do the job for tonight as he closes the door behind him.

As silence fill the apartment, you quietly return to your bed and sit, anxiously chewing on your lower lip. The digital clock beside your bed reads 2:50 am but your sleep is long gone.

Choi Seungcheol is here. In your house.

Will he spend the night? Or will he be his stubborn self and leave as soon as he is out? And if he does stay, will you see him in morning? Or will he be gone before the sun is up? The thoughts running rampant in your mind gives you a headache as you groan, rubbing your temples. You are sure Seungcheol feels something for you, he has to. Otherwise why would he come to you in the middle of the night? If only he told you his feelings, spilled his heart out to you rather than hiding and pushing you away. He just needs to bare himself to you, tell you what is in his heart. Why can't he do that? Why can't he just give the two of you a chance?

Your thoughts are interrupted as Seungcheol steps out the bathroom, half naked, the pajama pants hanging low on his hips as his muscled body is displayed in all its glory, making your throat dry. He looks at you before quickly looking away as an air awkwardness and tension fills the room. You hold your breath, watching him intently, not moving a single muscle as he tentatively takes a seat at the corner of your bed while wiping his wet hair with the towel hanging around his neck.

You want to tell him to stay the night, the words right on the tip of your tongue but you're terrified that it will just make him walk out here immediately. So instead you watch him with bated breath, waiting for his next move, waiting for him to say something, anything that will put an end to this deafening silence.

Seungcheol takes mercy on you.

"Thank you," he says, voice barely audible. You don't know what he's thanking you for you reply anyway. "Welcome. Though I don't know what you are thanking me for." Seungcheol remains silent for a few beats, his eyes focused on the floor before replying. "For everything. I have a lot to thank you for."

Okay.

You nod mutely, unable to figure out a reply. Another wave of silence settles in the atmosphere like a blanket. You take this time to appreciate his beautiful profile, engraving his features in your mind. The moonlight coming from your window falls on his face partially, illuminating his sculpted lineaments. You get to admire his beauty once more as he sits there but the look on his face tugs at your heartstrings. He looks troubled and in pain, the natural glow of his face somewhat dim. You wonder how the past couple of months have treated him. You wonder how life has been treating him, if he had someone to go to, someone to share his worries with all this time.

"Do you still like me?" His words make your eyes widen as it the last thing you expected to come from him. "You wouldn't be here if I didn't," your words come out harsher than you intended making you regret instantly. Perhaps the pain you have suffered for a while is coming out finally. However, seeing his silence, you reply once more, voice much softer this time, "Of course I still like you, Seungcheol. I have...I have never liked anyone or anything as much as you."

It's an understatement. What you feel for him is love but you would rather keep that to yourself.

"Why?" Seungcheol's voice comes out as a croak as his eyes connect to yours. For the first time, you see so much emotion in them and maybe, maybe even some unshed tears, though you can't be sure because the light is not sufficient right now. Your throat closes up for some reason as your eyes mirror the emotions in his and you desperately try to think, try to give him a reply that he deserves.

"You are very easy to like," you say lamely. Your reply is insufficient but that's all you can manage without starting to bawl like a child. A humourless laugh comes out of Seungcheol and echoes through the otherwise quiet room. "I doubt that," he says, his voice deep. "It's true Seungcheol," you repeat, voice firm.

A mirthless grin settles on his face and you know he isn't buying your words. Swallowing, you carefully, too carefully, scoot towards him and sit down, maintaining a little space between the the two of you. "I don't understand why you hold such negative thoughts about yourself but believe me Seungcheol, it's hard not to fall in love with you."

Your slip-up causes your eyes to widen, face drowning in embarrassment as you realize you just said the L word. Seungcheol, however, does not react to it but turns his head to study your face and the pain and sentiment in his eyes, his passionate gaze on you makes you forget human language. You've never seen nor imagined Seungcheol to be so full of ardor and pain and now that you have, you don't know what to do. You just want to cling to him and cry like a child.

"Can't you see how fucked up I am? What and awful person I am, ____? Someone like me deserves noth-" Unable to hold yourself back you interrupt him by cupping both of his cheeks and pressing your lips to his. You kiss him softly, carefully, trying to gauge his feelings while trying not to push him too hard. Seungcheol stays immobilised, letting you kiss him like that. When you pull back, his eyes are closed and he rests his forehead against yours. "You are just fine, Seungcheol. I like you just the way you are. Don't...beat yourself up like this, hmm?" Your voice is just above a whisper as you tilt his head to meet his eyes. Seungcheol stares quietly at you for a while before suddenly pushing you back and caging you underneath his large body. A squeak of surprise leaves your lips as Seungcheol wastes no time wrapping himself around you while attaching his lips to yours.

This time the kiss is not soft, it is full of passion and vigour and longing as Seungcheol takes the reign. Your lips mold perfectly against each other and Seungcheol does not hold back, kissing you like a starved man; all teeth and tongue. He pulls back for a while, supporting himself on his elbows as you looks at you while you try to catch your breath underneath him. His hand comes to stroke your hair gently, like a lover and your eyes burn at his tenderness.

"Seungcheol-"

"Is there still a place for me in your heart?" He asks, a hopeful note in his voice. His words leave you breathless as you gape at him in suprise, you mouth open slightly. Seungcheol looks at you look longingly as he waits for your answer, which comes easily, without a second thought.

"Of course, Seungcheol. I...I love you."

This time it is his turn to be surprised as his pupils dilate and a soft gasp of surprise escapes from him. Swallowing, you hold his gaze, waiting for his next words but they never come. Instead, the man attacks your lips with renewed fervour while slotting a muscular thigh between your legs. As his toned thigh brushes against your core a wanton moan leaves your mouth and you wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel Seungcheol smirk against your skin while he kisses a path down from jaw towards your neck, taking his sweet time to plant some love bites along the way while you gasp and writhe underneath him. Soon he reaches the valley of your breasts and with skilled fingers he does a quick work of the buttons of your night shirt. His heated gaze remains on your now bare breasts and you can feel your nipples harden in the chill air of the room before he leans down to plant soft kisses all over them. While he does so you continue to grind your core against his leg, desperate for some friction which he is denying you. His assault on your neck and breasts don't stop as he remains focused in marking you, blooming kisses of red and purple on your skin.

"I missed you," His voice comes out as throaty whisper while he keeps his lips attached to your heated skin. "Me too," you choke between moans as his ministrations on your body leaves you aching all over for him.

He pulls back to meet your gaze, "I want you. I... always have and I've been hiding it. But I can't anymore."

"Take me then, Seungcheol," It isn't the most romantic thing to say but that is all your lust clouded brain can manage as you keep grinding yourself against him. You feel his hard on poke your belly and unlike your lover, you really can't wait anymore. You need him now.

Seungcheol keeps looking at you, too busy studying your features rather than doing something about the wetness between your legs and you're about to tell him to do something when he speaks, "I love you, ____. I'm sorry for the hurt I've caused you. Let me make it up to you."

Great. Now you're horny and emotional.

His confession brings tears to your eyes but your neediness is growing so you pull his face down closer to yours and whisper, "You can start doing that by making me cum. And then you can stay. With me. Forever. How about that?" A mischievous grin kisses his face, "I'd love that sweetheart."

You grin in happiness not wasting anymore time as you reconnect your lips with his.

a/n 2: Whew~ a whopping 15k+! I can't believe I wrote something this huge. But it was well worth it! I just hate this damn app like I don't understand?? I've seen ppl post fics with 40k+ words yet tumb1r says I've reached 250 blocks like what?? Anyhow, I really really hope you enjoyed reading this baby cuz I've been working on it for soooo long! If you did please reblog and share as always your feedbacks are highly appreciated so please leave them in the comments or my ask box!

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen scoups #scoups smut #scoups imagines #seungcheol imagines #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt scenarios #seventeen au #svt seungcheol #choi seungcheol #kpop imagines

501 notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

Time After Time | dark!Neil (Tenet) x reader

summary: it’s tricky when feelings get involved in an organization like tenet. still, you’ve never been happier than you are with your boyfriend Neil, even if he’s a bit elusive and a very erratic coworker. for all his secrets, you never expected what he would tell you the day he finally proposed.

word count: 5.5k

warnings: smut!! (dub con, for extremely complex reasons), almost kinda stockholm syndrome?, yandere/soft!dark neil, breeding kink, confusing time travel stuff

"What are we doing here?” you asked as you looked around the safehouse— like any secret Tenet hideaway, it was sleek but sterile, nestled in a historic neighborhood in southeastern Moscow. It was sort of how you remembered from the last time you’d been here for work, but somebody had rearranged the living room and changed out the rug. (Knowing the nature of your business, you were pretty confident you knew why the rug was replaced.)

Neil had made it clear that you weren’t coming here for a mission, but never said what you were here for, and had kept up the veil of secrecy all week long. At first, you had assumed that since tomorrow was your four-year dating anniversary, it must have something to do with that, but the more you pondered the potential options, the more you were unsure.

You turned to look at him and found him wearing his signature smirk, the one that made you sure he was up to something— but you still didn’t know what.

“Seriously, Neil, just tell me!” you pleaded with a laugh, shoving him playfully.

“We’re here,” he explained slowly, “because I need to ask you something.”

He sank down onto one knee, clutching your hand in his, as you looked down at him with wide eyes. "Oh— oh my god,” you barely managed to stammer, entirely breathless.

“As soon as I met you, I knew you were the love of my life,” Neil began with that smile of his that always melted your heart. “I knew that I had to do everything in my power to make you as happy as you make me, to have you with me until the end of time— whenever that actually comes.”

You laughed a little, but it fell into a sob of joy as he reached into his jacket and pulled a ring out of his pocket, brandishing it to you.

“Darling, will you be my wife?” he asked, almost sounding like he was a little nervous that you’d say ‘no’, for some reason.

“Neil,” you whispered, “of course— yes, yes!”

He popped up and kissed you, smiling too hard for it to be a very effective kiss, though it was a perfect one nonetheless. You felt him slip the ring on your finger and you felt like you were floating on air. It was even more surreal than the first time you were inverted.

“I’m so glad you said yes,” he admitted with a sigh of relief against your lips. You pulled back from the kiss and looked up at him, bewildered but overjoyed.

“Were you really worried I’d say no?” you scoffed incredulously.

“Terrified,” he laughed, and you laughed too, kissing him again quickly before launching into the first of so many questions you wanted to ask.

“When did you— how did you—?”

“I got the ring last month,” he explained. “I thought about waiting longer but I was so tired of hiding it from you. Then it was just a matter of getting you here.”

“Don’t take this as me criticizing your proposal,” you giggled, “but I have to ask: why here?”

He sighed a little, smirking slightly, and looked away before catching your gaze again. “You’re gonna think I’m a bit crazy—”

“Already do, continue,” you winked.

“But this is where we first met.”

He was right; you did think he was crazy. You furrowed your brow and laughed nervously. “Neil, we met at a coffee shop, the one by my old apartment. I didn’t work here then, you recruited me yourself.”

He chuckled slightly, turning your confusion into an eerie sense of nervousness. “Sometimes you amaze me with your naivete, darling. This is where we first met, the first time.”

Gingerly, you pulled your hands away from his.

“I didn’t recruit you, originally. I was here, working, when a close friend of mine came in and introduced me to the newest member of the team. It was you… and you captured my heart, instantly. Only problem was…" he trailed off, chewing his lip as he glanced away.

“Tell me, Neil,” you demanded quietly.

“You’d captured someone else’s heart, too. And he had already married you.”

You stood up instantly, walking away a little before turning back to stare at him in bewilderment. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing; you could hardly stand on your wobbly legs anymore. “I… I had a husband?”

“Yeah, met him once; seemed like a nice guy,” he shrugged. “But he wasn’t right for you.”

“And how’s that?”

“Because he wasn’t me.”

You shook your head, terrified to imagine the ways Neil had tampered with the flow of time for something as trivial as an infatuation with you.

“I tried to hide my feelings for you, darling, really; we were just coworkers for a long time, I kept it strictly professional. But the more I got to know you, the more I grew to love you. I knew I couldn’t be happy just being your friend— you’re my everything. I tried to tell you— but you wouldn’t listen,” he shook his head. “You told me you loved your husband. You told me you had just found out you were pregnant.”

His words hit you like a train and you stumbled back slightly, bracing yourself against a credenza to try to keep from falling to the floor.

“I realized I had to go back,” he continued, becoming a bit more passionate as he explained his plan. “You couldn’t be convinced if you were pregnant with his child. But if I was going to invert myself to try to confess my love for you sooner, I figured it would be easiest if I took it a step further and avoided the whole marriage itself. You had told me once about the day you met him. So, I went and found you in that coffeeshop, the day before. And I recruited you to Tenet. Truth was, we could’ve used you a lot sooner, so it was advantageous to the organization as well— which is why I got approved to be inverted by the boss himself.”

That hurt. He was Neil’s friend, but he was your friend, too. Had he known that when Neil went back to recruit you, he would irreparably alter the course of your life? Or had he only realized later and decided not to try to correct it?

“Don’t look so heartbroken, darling,” he pouted, stepping forward and reaching out to gently rub your shoulder. “We’re finally together. Things are finally the way they should’ve been from the very beginning.”

You pushed his hand away and averted your gaze, unable to look at him anymore. "I'm sorry, Neil, I can't do this— I can't live a lie," you shook your head, beginning to step away.

“No, you can’t go,” he breathed, desperation apparent in his tone along with his expression. “You can’t go! I finally got it right this time!”

“Is that why you were afraid I’d say no?” you realized with wide, watery eyes. “Because I said it before?”

“Yes,” he admitted, faster than you expected. “But—”

“How many times?”

There came the silence, his nostrils flaring as he crossed his arms and looked away.

“How many times did I reject your proposal, Neil?”

“...Fourteen.”

“Oh my god,” you sobbed, “Neil, you— you never gave me a choice, did you? From the beginning? Every time I tried to get away from you—”

“You always knew you belonged with me,” he posited fiercely. “You always knew, it was why you kissed me that night, a year from now, on the bridge in Oslo.”

“That wasn’t me!” you cried. “I was never married, Neil, I was never pregnant, I never kissed you on any godforsaken bridge! You undid it all, and now you’re holding what I never did against me?”

“Even then you knew we were meant to be together,” he explained, stepping a little closer; out of love for the man you thought he was, you had a moment of sympathy for the man he had become, and let him pull you closer and cradle your face in his hands. He wiped a stray tear from your cheek as he smiled down at you.

It almost felt right for a moment, but you couldn’t trick yourself into believing this was anything but wrong. "I'm sorry, god, I'm so sorry," you whispered hoarsely as you turned to walk away— but he chased you and spun you back around, overpowering you as you tried to wriggle from his grasp.

“After everything I did for you,” he growled, grabbing your wrists tightly when you tried to get away, “you can’t just walk away from me.”

“You didn’t do any of this for me, Neil,” you spat as you struggled, “you did this for yourself. You stole my life!”

“I saw your life, it was shit without me, okay?”

"But at least it was mine!"

He grabbed you by the shoulders and pinned you to the wall, making you yelp as he glared at you, eyes wild and teeth bared. “I’ll just go back and do it again. I’ll do it a million times until you stay with me forever, I swear. So what’s the use in fighting me? You’ll say yes, eventually. Why don’t you save us both some time— in a sense— and just accept it now?”

This was a side of Neil you hadn’t seen before. He wasn’t livid, he wasn’t violent (at least, not to the level you knew he could be), but he was undoubtedly threatening you… and you knew that he was right. More than ever you were sure that he was going to keep doing this, keep taking you through the same loop until he got the outcome he wanted. It was horrifying to imagine, but at least this way you could know the truth. Maybe you could even find a way to escape him someday— you couldn’t even imagine how, but you might come up with something later. You had all the time in the world, after all.

He softened slightly as he must have realized you were considering it, reaching down to pull your hands into his. You glanced over at the sparkling diamond on your ring finger, remembering how ecstatic you had been to wear it just a few minutes ago. Now it was a tiny gold shackle, each glimmer of the stone like a silent taunt.

Devastated, but with nowhere else to turn, you began to sob and allowed him to embrace you and pull you into him. He held you close as you cried into his shoulder, terrified and confused and seeking comfort even if it was from the man who had imprisoned you in time.

“Shh,” he soothed gently, “it’s going to be alright, darling, take some deep breaths for me. Can you do that? In—” he inflated his chest, guiding you to breathe with him, which you did to the best of your ability—” and out…”

Smooth breaths were difficult with sobs vibrating your lungs, but you eventually managed to stabilize yourself as he guided you through a few more. You resented that he knew you so well to be able to calm you down; you resented that your body trusted him enough for it to actually work.

“That’s it,” he praised softly, “you’re okay, it’s okay…”

You stared at yourself in the mirror, contemplating the way your face looked through the lacy white veil. Silently, you wondered if this was how you looked at your first wedding; the one that never really happened, to the man you never got the chance to meet. You liked to imagine that you looked happier than this, that your eyes were filled with excitement rather than resignation.

A knock at the door didn’t even tear you from your trance, nor did the sound of it opening; only Neil’s reflection appearing beside yours in the mirror made you snap back into reality, if only slightly.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your ear.

“Bad luck…” you mumbled. “It’s bad luck,” you began again, “for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”

“I think we’ve had enough bad luck for a lifetime already,” he joked, making you furrow your brow and turn around, looking up at him.

He bore a startling resemblance to the man you’d fallen in love with, to the man you’d been ecstatic to marry when he got down on one knee for you in a nearly-abandoned safehouse in Moscow. Even the way he smiled at you, his gaze so gentle as it scanned your face, was exactly the way he’d looked at you a thousand times— when you first met, as well. The first time for you, at least. He’d known you for years then; it was no wonder that he looked at you with such love, struck up a conversation that perfectly targeted your interests. He must’ve spent years practicing to be your perfect man, until he finally got tired of the lie and trapped you in his twisted idea of the truth.

It made you question his motives for appearing suddenly and spoiling the surprise of you in your wedding gown— a sight he must have been dreaming of for years.

“Did I leave you at the altar?” you asked, below your breath. “Is that why you’re here? You came back to stop me?”

He chuckled lightly and brushed his fingers over your face. “I don’t know yet. This is the first time.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “How can I trust you? How can I know you haven’t said that every time?”

He didn’t answer, instead leaning in to kiss you gently. You closed your eyes, accepting that you could never really know the truth anymore. Maybe someday you would become comfortable with unknowing, or at least complacent enough to tolerate it.

Walking down the aisle felt sort of like walking toward the gallows, but instead of death waiting for you at the end, there was a life of futility, an existence guided not by destiny or decision but by derangement: one man’s fight, against God and nature, to keep you to himself and steal you from the life you were once meant for.

You managed to keep your footsteps steady, glancing briefly to the pews scattered with parse friends and family— wasn’t much time for either of those with the kind of work you did. All the time in the world, but not enough time for a real life. That was why it had been so easy to fall for Neil, since he was one of a few people you spent significant time with. Had that always been the nature of the job? Or an orchestration by Neil himself, separating you from others until you couldn’t choose anyone but him?

Thankfully, you managed to get through the wedding without crying more than was appropriate or screaming at him or trying to run away. You exchanged the vows and the rings, you kissed each other, the whole shebang. Occasionally you actually managed to enjoy yourself, in those moments that you forgot this was all a hollow facade, greeting guests and listening to toasts and dancing with Neil— your new husband.

You forced yourself to keep up the image of a happy bride for the sake of your friends, and everyone who came here in expectation of a fun wedding. It was what they deserved, even if it was costing you everything.

But once they were gone, you didn’t know how to play the part anymore. You didn’t know how to swallow down the sick rising in your throat as Neil led you to the honeymoon suite, how to smile back at him when he looked at you with so much joy.

You didn’t know how to prepare yourself for what you knew he expected.

“I… should change out of this dress,” you realized once you were alone in the hotel room together, and he nodded his approval. You knew if you looked at yourself in the mirror, you would cry, so instead you focused on getting out of your uncomfortable gown. The lacy white lingerie underneath was intimidating, not for what it was but for what it symbolized. You couldn’t go back out there like this, obviously— so you grabbed one of the puffy white robes, the hotel’s logo stitched onto the breast pocket, and you threw it on as you stormed out of the bathroom and directly to the balcony.

Tears threatened to burn your eyes as you looked out over the London skyline. It was stunning, and it made you appreciate that you should be thankful for the freedoms you did have. There was a big, beautiful world out there and you had the means and the motive to explore it all, if you wanted— you’d already seen more than most.

But you still mourned for the life you never lived. Some would argue that in an infinite number of alternate universes, you had the choice to leave him if you wanted to; and apparently, from what Neil had implied, you usually took it. Yet, that was useless to you now. The irony was not lost on you that you would be so spoiled as to hate your life when you were standing on the balcony of a luxurious hotel, in a gown that cost more than your first degree, with a gorgeous new husband and more money than either of you would ever have any use for. You knew you were being petulant. But something deeper longed for freedom, with everything it cost. Does it matter how decadent a cage is, if you are still trapped in it?

The balcony door opened behind you, and you defiantly sniffled, quickly wiping a stray tear from your cheek.

“Darling?” Neil gently called to you. “Is everything alright?”

You didn’t answer, fearing the waver in your voice would give you away.

“I know it’s all a little… overwhelming,” he relented, his voice coming closer along with his footsteps. “But you really have nothing to worry about. I think you’ll rather like it.”

“Like what?”

He paused for a bit before he replied. And when he did, he said it like it was obvious: “Being my wife.”

You turned to face him, expecting rage in your voice but hearing only sadness. “And if I don’t? You’ll just… go back, and do it again until I do?”

He sighed a little, seeming hurt by the question. “Please, darling, it’s our wedding night,” he cooed, “you can’t hate me. Let me remind you how good we are together…”

His touch was distantly familiar, and against your better judgement you relaxed a bit and let him pull you closer, his cheek brushing against yours as he spoke beside your ear.

“I never inverted for this,” he explained with a whisper, fingertips grazing over your arm. “I didn’t learn your kinks, memorize your body and then go back to impress you from the beginning. The first time we were together… it was the first time for both of us. And it was perfect. Do you remember?”

You nodded.

“Tell me,” he instructed, lifting your chin to tenderly kiss your neck.

“Paris,” you sighed. “We were posing as lovers to check in to a hotel without arousing suspicion. I’d been enamored with you since I first met you and I thought maybe you felt the same way, but I told you we couldn’t be together because of Tenet…”

“But I kissed you anyway,” he reminded you.

“And I didn’t care about Tenet anymore,” you remembered. “I just needed to feel you. And we made love for hours— nearly missed our signal to get out of the building.”

He chuckled lightly against your skin, his fingers leaving goosebumps where they travelled across your back. “It was worth it,” he decided. “It was beautiful.”

You pulled back and looked up at him, finding so much love in his eyes, and you searched desperately within yourself for a way to love him in return again after what he’d done.

Swallowing, you slid your fingers into his hair and examined his face one more time, illuminated in the faintly bluish glow of the city lights.

“Go back,” you whispered.

“What?”

“I need you to go back,” you repeated. “To the day you proposed. Don’t tell me the truth this time.”

Realization dawned on his face, somber but calm.

“I’ll be yours, Neil,” you promised, “forever, like you wanted. But I can’t live like this. I can’t live knowing what you’ve done. And I can’t live with myself if I know that I gave in to you.”

“I hate to leave you on our wedding night,” he argued, turning away slightly— but you held his face and pulled him back to look at you.

“Do this for me,” you pleaded. “Consider it a wedding present.”

He gave you a small, sad smile before he embraced you again. "Anything for you," he whispered as he kissed you on the top of your head.

Neil all but kicked the door down as he carried you in his arms, unable to break the kiss even for a moment to open the door properly.

He stumbled around the room a bit before he finally tossed you onto the bed, eliciting a girlish squeal as the puffy layers of your wedding gown's elaborate skirt flipped up over your head. Growling playfully as he climbed atop you and slotted himself between your legs, you pushed your dress out of the way to look up at him.

As your laughter died down and you examined his face, you were compelled to reach up and hold his jaw in your hand; he turned his face slightly to kiss your palm as you caressed his cheek.

"I love you," you sighed as you brushed a stray strand of hair back out of his face.

"I love you too," he smiled, "more than you could ever know."

You rolled your eyes. "There goes my husband with his crypticness again."

He hummed at the title, kissing you again. You figured you were lucky he didn’t rip the dress as he got you out of it, growling when he saw your lacy white lingerie underneath. “You really are too good to me, darling,” he purred, leaning down to capture a nipple between his teeth through the fabric until your back arched. “All wrapped up for me like a pretty little present…”

You whined when he slipped his fingers down between your legs, toying with you and refusing to just pull the panties aside and get on with it. Of course he had to draw it out, savor every inch of you, but did he have to drive you so crazy along the way?

"Neil, please," you whimpered, "need you…"

"I know," he soothed between heavy breaths, kissing down your chest and stomach until he reached where you'd nearly soaked through your flimsy lace. He kissed your swollen clit right through the fabric— damn him that just that little touch made you moan and grab his hair. He loved seeing the effect he had on you, it was clear by the way he grinned and did it again, a little firmer, relishing in the way you squirmed.

Finally, he pulled your panties aside; although of course he did it tantalizingly slow before sliding his tongue through your folds, moaning lowly when you accidentally pulled his hair a bit.

He looked so damn good with his face between your thighs, staring up at you and holding you in place with his petrifying gaze. His eyes were always uncharacteristically dark when he did this to you, like he'd been waiting all his life for this moment. Like the taste of you drove him wild.

You shuddered when he pushed his tongue inside you, instantly putting pressure against the most delicate places inside you. When the pleasure threatened to become too intense and you instinctively tried to squirm away, his strong hands gripped your thighs and held you down nearly effortlessly, likely leaving marks on your skin for you to notice tomorrow, to remind you that you were his. As if the ring wasn’t enough.

“Fuck,” you groaned, “please— please let me come.”

You didn’t always ask him for permission, but he always gave it when you did. So you weren’t expecting him to grin and stop his task to suck a hickey onto your thigh. “Not quite yet,” he purred. “I need you to ask really, really nicely…”

“Um,” you stalled, distracted by watching him leave a trail of marks along your skin with his teeth, “please… don’t stop, Neil, please let me come… I’ll do anything, you know I will.”

“That’s already true,” he reminded you, snarling as he gave your pussy a sudden spank; you yelped and jolted from the impact, but it ended with a moan and more wetness gathering at your hole. “You can’t be so obedient all the time and try to use it as a bargaining tool, darling. You know better than that. Offer me something I don’t have.”

“If you let me come,” you pondered your potential options as you bit your lip and rocked your hips up in hopes of friction, “I’ll… make dinner, every night, for a week—”

He quirked an eyebrow.

“A month!” you blurted out instead.

“You’re negotiating against yourself,” he chuckled, slapping you right on your clit and making you cry out. “And you’re not much of a cook.”

You were teetering on the edge, desperate for any leverage you could grapple onto, keening for just a touch more stimulation to bring you the rest of the way— and you were so fucking close. You could only think of one thing Neil wanted, that he didn’t have, that you could give. And it was a stupid idea, but you needed to offer him something fast before those dreaded spanks between your thighs made you come before he’d given permission.

“We can fuck on a mission,” you announced through your teeth. Finally, you felt like you had his attention. The only time that had ever happened was the one time you let it happen— the first time. The next day you’d had a long conversation about how you weren’t going to let feelings interfere with the job; he agreed, and since then the two of you had done a pretty good job of separating business and pleasure. Although he did occasionally get irritated with your work in the field and take it out on you that night in bed, but that doesn’t count, right?

“Really?” he mused. “Whatever happened to boundaries? What happened to ‘respecting the other team members’?”

“They don’t need to know,” you explained. “Please, Neil, I really really need to cum.”

He pressed a thumb to your clit and drew slow, relaxed circles— just slow and relaxed enough to make sure you couldn’t come from it. You sobbed and let your head fall back, exhausted of his teasing. “How can you be sure you’ll be discreet enough? You’re not exactly… subtle,” he smirked, your moans now exactly proving his point.

“Can’t be loud with my mouth full,” you countered, and his smile finally fell. You finally had a bit of power back.

“You’d really suck me off on a mission?”

“If you can promise to keep quiet,” you chuckled.

He growled a bit as he dove back in, the sudden pleasure forcing a deep moan from your lips. “Fuck,” he mumbled against you, “so dirty for me, huh?”

“Yeah,” you agreed as you bit down on your lip. “God, I’m close, just don’t stop…”

“As long as you keep up your end of the deal,” he smirked, and you nearly forced his head back down between your legs but thankfully, he kept his mouth shut after that— well not quite shut, just busy, and before you knew it the pressure that built in your gut finally flowed over and you sobbed his name at the peak of your orgasm.

He kept going for just a moment too long, sending white hot shocks up your spine from the overstimulation, but thankfully he slowed down and pulled back, licking his lips and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

With that out of the way, and you nearly melted into the bed at this point, he sat up and hastily opened his belt and fly while he gazed down upon you with a burning hot stare.

"I should return the favor," you offered, sitting up slightly and reaching to wrap your hand around his length, but he shook his head.

"I’ll get my chance, but right now I just need to be inside you,” he explained gruffly. “Can’t spend another moment without being buried in this gorgeous cunt of yours; I might die if I can’t have you now.”

"Well, if it's a matter of life and death," you grinned, poorly faking indifference as he shoved you back and caged you in, guiding his cock to your dripping wet entrance.

“Ready, darling?” he prompted quietly as you felt the head of him prodding at you. You nodded, and yet you still gasped and clutched his forearms when he pushed into you. It was like the first time every time, with the way his thick length speared into you and stretched you open, but you craved it regardless; by now it wasn’t even pain, just raw sensation that pushed your limits in all the right ways. He sighed a bit when his hips met yours, already pulling back and setting the pace of his thrusts.

Even with how wet you were, there was friction just from the size of him, but it was the right kind of friction— a smooth, slow drag against your walls that compelled you to wrap your legs around his hips and hold him deep inside you.

“Is that how you want it?” he interrogated. “Deep?” You nodded and he chuckled a little. “I can do that.”

He stopped moving only for a moment to grab your legs and push them up, such that when he thrusted again, the tip of his cock hit the furthest places inside you and you choked on your own moan. "Fuck!" you croaked, eyes shooting open and hands reaching out to clutch his shoulders.

"How deep am I inside you?" he asked coyly, well aware of the answer already.

"So deep,” you slurred, barely able to form words with a heavy tongue and empty lungs, “all the way…"

"Good." He leaned down and growled against your ear. "I hope I knock you up tonight."

His words shocked you, in the best possible way. You surprised even yourself with the way your body reacted, and your hands were almost moving of their own accord as they grabbed his face and pulled him into a deep, needy kiss.

“Neil,” you mumbled as you broke it just enough to look up at him, “put a baby in me.”

“Fuck,” he hissed, thrusting into you faster than ever, “I will, darling…”

He was unstoppably filthy after that, relentlessly pounding into you, claiming your entire body as he whispered unimaginably dirty things in your ear.

"I know you want it so badly, darling, I know you need to be filled with my seed… can't wait to see you all round and glowing with my baby in you."

You didn't understand his emphasis on the word "my,” as if it could ever be anyone else's! But you didn't really notice that very much, too busy crying out at the feeling of him stretching you out and reaching the deepest places inside of you. “Neil, please— I’m so close, want you to come with me,” you whimpered.

“Yeah? Wanna squeeze my cock with this pretty little cunt while I fill you up, darling?”

“Please,” you sobbed, and you were sure you’d never needed him this bad; never needed anything this bad.

Deep little growls coming from between his teeth signified that he was close, and you felt your body tightening around him as you reached your peak one more time, much more intense than before and so much louder than you meant for it to be. He finally spilled inside of you, painting your walls with his spend as you whimpered and began to descend from your high. His body relaxed atop yours, though his arms wrapped around you to hold you close. After a few moments of that, he fell onto his back and you laid your head on his chest, humming happily at the feeling of his warmth seeping out of you. You were confident you’d be sore all over tomorrow, but you couldn’t feel it now as the afterglow served as a painkiller, keeping you numb and happy while you cuddled into him.

His arm around your shoulders pulled you closer so he could kiss your forehead. You looked up at him, admiring the way he looked horribly disheveled and yet entirely perfect; he looked back at you, smiling softly.

"Can't believe you're finally mine," he sighed wistfully, "forever."

#tenet fanfic #neil tenet x reader #dark!neil tenet x reader #neil tenet dark fic #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson dark fic

475 notes · View notes

sweetestlamb · 4 years ago

Text

Wake Me Up Inside(Chapter 2)

Summary: Hope is a flickering light, coming and going as it sees fit.

Author's note: Y'all like this? Color me surprised I thought everyone had cast Sujin aside based on tumblr post honestly, expected maybe 3 people to read this. I'm happy so many are enjoying, thanks for coming along for the ride. If any talented individuals want to make me a header that would be great, anyway enjoy the teen angst. More awful parenting, beware. it hurts me to write this but random immediate romance doesn’t make sense to me so here we goooo.

The world seems larger, everyone towers over her as they squeeze by jostling her tiny body, she twists and turns desperately searching for a familiar face and faltering when there is none. Just blurred faces with stretched out smiles that are horrifying grotesque, almost as if they were painted on by a deranged circus clown. She begins to run frantically racing away from the figures, who are now reaching out for her grabbing her arm and tugging at her pigtails. She opens her mouth but nothing comes out, bringing a trembling hand to her lips she finds them sewn shut, silencing her petrified screams.

Then a hand clutches at her elbow and she's spun around, suddenly staring into the face of evil.

"Where have you been you brat? Everyone was waiting for you."

She tries to tug free of his punishing grip but his fingers tighten on her tender flesh, marking the delicate skin. Ignoring her evident trepidation he forcefully pushes her towards a table, with a large looming birthday cake.

"Hurry up and blow out these candles, you're almost old enough to be useful to me."

Screaming no in her mind, she breaks free of his hold running as fast as her compact legs will take her but she miscalculates and trips over a stray toy, tumbling over the edge of a pool she hadn't noticed there earlier. The cold splash of the chlorine scented water on her skin shocks her in a panicked daze and when she pries her eyes open the menacing face of her father greets her looking nonplussed by her hectic drowning.

"Good riddance." He smirks sipping from his cup as he stalks away, no longer bothered with her.

Water constructs her airway and she continues to sink to the bottom. Forgotten and discarded.

With a flash she bursts from her nightmare silent scream on her tongue, it's his presence that silences her cry. Wide feline eyes regard her from his crouched position, it takes a moment to realize that the rapid puffs of air filling the room are coming from her lips. She grips at the mattress beneath her, hopelessly pleading with her heart and lungs as her body quivers from the intensity of her dream.

"Are you okay? You looked like you were having a bad dream, I called your name a few times."

She's decidedly not any semblance of okay and has no concept of what that would entail for her but she finds herself nodding, lying as easily as she always does.

"I'm fine." Clipped and brisk despite the cold sweat on her skin, she's probably soaked through his shirt the collar almost plastered to red collar bones.

He doesn't reply further than pursing his lips and walking over to a dresser she'd hadn't noticed earlier.

"That lie would probably be more believable if you didn't look as if you were going to pass out at any second." She can hear his eyes rolling at her and it raises her heckles, she doesn't need anyone looking after her, she is fine on her own.

"I should go." She says curtly, forcing herself out of the dangerously warm bed to walk across the room and test her previously soaked pajamas. Damp, but they'll do.

"I thought you had nowhere to go." He challenges finally standing to his full height, subconsciously she flinches at the sudden movement and immediately he takes a step back pressing himself almost flush with the wall. Lowering his head until they are almost eye level. Shame washes over her do strongly she has to turn away, so pathetic.

Speaking to his bedpost she answers, "That was last night. I can go home now."

Her father will be at work until late into the evening, she just needs to lock herself in her room and she should be safe until school tomorrow.

He hums at her sounding closer than he did earlier, "You don't have to go. I'll find an excuse to give my mom, you can stay here."

No she can't. She knows what's going through his mind, probably the same thing that went through Suho's when he saw the blood on her lip for the first time, you poor little thing. Pity was always the first reaction but it never lasted, eventually pity shifted to annoyance nobody wanted to be friends with someone getting beaten. It was depressing, and uncomfortable to discuss and there was nothing anyone could do to help her. It was her penance for being born a girl and not being the best at least to make up for that disappointment.

"I'm not a stray puppy, you can't just pick me up off the street and expect me to stay. I told you, I'm fine." This time she says it harder, sharper with a bite that screams don't push me.

Unsurprisingly enough Han Seojun doesn't seem intimidated by her.

This time she gets to witness the eye roll as he approaches her but still keeps his head lowered as if deferring to her. "I already told you that I don't pity you, you need help stop pretending you don't."

But she's not pretending, that would imply that she wants others to help secretly. That just isn't accurate, she wants nothing- expects nothing. Her father pound any inkling of hope she had out a long time ago.

Stepping into his space, her eyes narrow as she bites out, "I don't need anything certainly not help from you. You're not a nice person, what am I your one good deed? Just mind your business."

She pointedly glances away at the flash of hurt that scatters across his expressive face.

She expects him to lash out, stretch to his full form and berate her, reprimand her ungrateful behavior and an even darker side of her almost expects him to slap her. I see why your father does that, you deserve it.

"Suit yourself."

That's all he says solemnly with a shrug before tossing more dry clothes at the bed and silently exiting the room.

She feels worse than she did before. Guilt gnawing at her, she ignores the offered clothes she doesn't deserve his hospitality or warmth. She disrobes and puts back on the damp chilled pajamas, that matches her better.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

That's what he gets for trying to help someone, his act of kindness thrown back in his face. Angrily he pours the boiling water into the waiting cup, starting his mother's mandatory morning tea. He's so lost in the routine that he doesn't notice her presence until she clears her throat. His pride stops him from turning around, her words were as painful as a dagger.

"Your clothes are on the bed. I called a cab."

He nods without looking back, "Get home saf--" He cuts himself off, maybe he's overstepping again. So he just hums and stirs the now perfect cup of tea with a splash of milk. His sister's will get three sugars, she has such a sweet tooth.

The soft snap of the front door closing is loud in the silence of the morning, the sun has barely risen. His mother will be out in an hour, he was worried for nothing. Nobody will even know she was here. He can pretend this was all a fever dream and listen to her advice, he's never minded anyone else's business why did he decide to start now?

Lesson learned.

He spends the remainder of his weekend not thinking about the bruises on her face and instead plays video games, bullying Suho into playing Call of Duty with him online until the stupid genius starts to win too often and it's no longer stress reducing.

"Sore loser." He scoffs at the staticky insult through his headphones, draining the can of soda he took from the fridge. He should start dinner soon, his mom and sister will be back from shopping any minute.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did." He can't help but roll his eyes at the lame response but he pushes on ignoring his brain shouting at him that this is the opposite of minding his business. He hardly listens to his brain, his gut is much stronger.

"Does Sujin have any siblings? Or does she like to box or anything like that? " He tries to make sense of the night, maybe it wasn't what he thought initially. From his memory Sujin comes from a very affluent respectable family, there's no way right?

"What? What kind of question is that?"

"Just answer me." He quips impatiently, ready to let go of this unwarranted worry that's been weighing on his heart.

After a long pause where he checks if his Wi-Fi disconnected he finally hears a response, "No. She lives with her mother and father, she's an only child. And I’ve never known her to do anything physical like that."

His chest tightens, not what he wanted to hear. Her flinch this morning flashes brightly in his memory. He wasn't mistaken. He's sure of it, she'd been scared.

"Why?"

He can barely hear through the ringing in his ear, "Nothing. I have to go."

He signs off before the other boy can reply, walking autopilot to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Chopping vegetables does nothing to stop the nausea bubbling in his stomach.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Taking the bus the next day is out of the question, he has spent the entire weekend wishing he had the nerve to get the girl's number but anyone he asked would misunderstand why and he didn't need anymore rumors circulating, he would just have to get it from her himself. If she wanted him to mind his business she shouldn't have collapsed where he could see.

The engine rumbles between his legs as he brings his motorcycle to a stop, swinging off effortlessly before tugging the helmet off and shaking his hair free. He doesn't notice the various lecherous female and male eyes watching his very moment, too focused on walking into the school and finding her.

Turning a corner he sees her instantly, sandwiched between her two best friends, they look like a high school brochure giggling as they walk down the hallway garnering the attention of most of the male population. The purple bruise on her cheek is missing, nothing but smooth blemish free skin. He almost does a double take. As all three of them pass him, he locks eyes with Sujin for a moment, the mask slides off for a second but the moment he blinks the façade snaps back into place, nothing left but a pretty empty smile.

He follows them into class, sliding into his seat and promptly going to sleep. He has to catch her alone.

Doing so proves to be a near impossible feat, she's always surrounded by her two bestie shadows and Chorong and the gang are never far from him either. He sighs forlornly even time he sees her only for someone to interrupt before he can approach her. All too frustrated.

He's sitting dejected on the staircase when he hears the bustle of students in the hallway, their voices carrying down the long space and he rolls his eyes imagining what ridiculous situation they've deemed as drama now. Last time it was Ju-Kyung having pimples, a topic that was completely groundbreaking and worthy of weeks of discussion. So it's with the smallest shred of curiosity that he stands up wandering over to the commotion.

"What's going on?" He directs to the closest person, some mousy looking girl who stutters out an indecipherable answer. He looks at her confused before stalking away to find someone who has a better grasp of communication. He poses the question again, to a boy this time.

"I heard one of the girls started freaking out in the bathroom. Screaming not to be touched."

He stands frozen before the words register in his brain and his feet are moving without his brain's permission. Shoving past gossiping bystanders, he easily gets to the front only to see Ju-Kyung covering someone with her sweater as they walk down the hallway. Immediately the crowd comes alive and they surge forward like a wave all calling questions out at once, "What's wrong with you?", "Why did you freak out?", "Who do you think you are? Are you too rich to be touched or something?"

He twists his head around ferociously at the last question, everyone in front of him gulps while taking a step back. The hallway is a cacophony of voices and shouts and he can feel his anger boiling, slamming his fist into the nearest surface-a wall- he gets everyone's attention.

"Go back to your classes. Now."

Some of the male students look as if they are going to challenge his authority but another step forward is all it takes to get the student body scampering to their classrooms.

Inhaling deeply he stomps off to find the source of his unease.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It had been hard to disregard, how lacking of warmth her house was. Seojun's apartment had been brimming with warmth and love, the fridge bursting with papers and drawings documenting that someone cared enough to show them off. Her home was a large empty prison in comparison.

But she'd been right, it was dark and quiet proof that her parents were not home. With her heart in her throat she ran to her room, locking the door behind her. Sleep captured her before she knew she was in its grasps, waking up groggy hours later and forgetting where she was. Fierce pounds on her door reminded her instantly.

"Open this door now."

His voice is a low growl, even more terrifying than when he's screaming his lungs out. She grabs her vanity chair pressing it under the door knob for more protection.

She jumps when the door bulges, the loud crashing making it clear that he's slamming bodily into the door now determined to get to her.

"Please....stop." She pleads, tears already cascading down her bruised cheeks.

"Open this fucking door!!"

She's sobbing now, body folded as she cries her eyes out shaking viciously as her father continues to ran into the door, dread filling her stomach as he's never fought this hard before.

Then everything is quiet.

The pounding is gone as suddenly as it arrived. She doesn't let go her panic just yet, still too raw. Butt seconds crawl to minutes and she hears nothing so she finally exhales, sliding to the floor in relief.

She weakly crawls to her bathroom, turning the dial to the hottest temperature possible wanting to burn off his brand on her skin. After her shower she brushes her wet hair, staring at the bruise, it's turning yellow now with tinges of purple. Good thing she let Su-ah and Ju-Kyung convince her to buy foundation the last time they were in the beauty store. She will have to layer it on tomorrow.

She's starving but the thought of leaving her room with him in the house is enough to eliminate her appetite. Instead she puts on a warm sweater and sweat pants and wraps herself in a thick blanket, still too cold ice running through her veins.

She had never felt as warm as she did at his house.

A quiet knock thankfully pulls her away from such unnecessary thoughts. She simply listens.

"Su-jin, it's mom. I brought you food."

She sits up, crawling out of bed to stand in front of the bed. Her mother has never brought her food, even when she was nine and hadn't gotten a perfect score on her spelling test and her father locked her in the closet for two days with only a dictionary. She'd contemplated eating the pages before she was finally set free. Her mother had simply looked away, avoiding eye contact until she was safely back in her room.

But her stomach grumbles at the mention of sustenance and despite her best judgement she opens the door.

It's a mistake.

Immediately she notes that her mother has nothing in her hands, trembling herself and before she can slam the door shut a foot blocks her escape.

He uses the belt that time whipping her in places that others will never see, her back, thighs, and shoulders. Her mother's weakly calls out, "Don't hit her face she has to meet that boy you wanted this week."

It goes on for what seems like hours, he leaves her crumpled on the ground her body stinging as she refused to cry, blinking her tears away not wanting to give him what he wants. When her mother meekly walks over and extends a hand to her, she looks at her with listless eyes. Her mother has a fresh bruise on her cheek, her father hardly hits her anymore using Sujin has his punching bag instead but at times of high frustration he would regress.

She wonders if her mother knew that one day this would be her faith. If this was the purpose of her birth.

She doesn't take the hand. It seems there was still some hope left, it is extinguished now.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The school day had been easy she's been hiding her abuse for years, no teacher had ever suspected a thing and she didn't even blame them. It would just be bothersome, her father was a powerful man there wouldn't be much they could do.

She slaps on a smile, allowing herself to be dragged around by Su-ah and Ju-Kyung, listening as they giggle about their boyfriends chiming in the appropriate moments to not seem disinterested or jealous. She is jealous though, of their freedom and innocent problems, she'd lost her innocence a long time ago.

She knows Seojun is trying to talk to her but she can't handle seeing him right now, having to face someone who knows what she's going through sounds worst than being beat right now. So she jolts at every sight of the tall lanky figure, thankful for his fan club who seems to announce his every arrival. She's on her way to having a successful day when everything goes to hell.

She's in the bathroom drying her hands when a classmate comes in, responding to the small talk she answers the girl's question before nodding her head in goodbye.

"Oh your tag is sticking out."

That's all she hears before a hand is brushing across her sore beaten neck and her reaction is instantaneous, she turns around catching the offending hand and twisting it.

Her throat wheezes out, "Don't touch me."

The girl stares at her wide-eyed before tugging her hand away, then other girls begin to come of the stalls to see what's happening and before she knows it she's hyperventilating on the ground, nonsensical words dripping off her tongue. Everything is too loud and her head is splitting in half just when her vision is graying out, she smells a familiar perfume.

"Su-jin ah, you're going to be okay. Just breathe with me, follow me."

Ju-Kyung's voice is calming and sure, not touching her but covering them both in her sweater as she models how to breathe, she follows until her lungs are no longer burning.

"Good. You're doing so good, is it okay if I touch you? I'm going to help you up."

She grabs at the bathroom wall yanking herself until she's upright, trying to show her friend that she's not that weak but a look of hurt is displayed on her face and Sujin doesn't comprehend why.

The other girl shakes it off though, now covering her fully with her cornflower yellow sweater.

She's suddenly reminded of her nightmare this morning as she has to pass all the students in the hallway, all pointing and laughing as she falls apart some of them even have their phone out recording her and she sways uneasily before catching herself, trembling the whole way she walks down the hallway until a loud bang and a voice she recognizes all too well silences the uproar.

Resisting the desire to look back she allows Ju-Kyung to pull her up the stairs until they're on the roof. Air pumps into her lungs as she's finally free of all the judgmental eyes.

She expects the other girl to start interrogating her the moment the door closes but it never comes, instead Ju-Kyung places her sweater around her trembling body.

"You're okay. Just keep breathing."

She does her best to follow the uncomplicated directions.

After a few minutes, Ju-Kyung's phone suddenly rings disturbing the quietude. She barely hears blood rushing in her ears like the waves at the beach.

"Okay we're on the roof."

She stills at that utterance, turning in alarm.

"Who was that? Who did you tell where we are?"

Ju-Kyung looks guilty, as if she wasn't meant to hear that conversation. She doesn't want to see anyone right now, can barely stand to be with herself.

"Call them back and tell them not to come. I want to be alone."

Ju-Kyung holds her phone in her hands gingerly staring at the screen, clearly contemplating what is the right decision. She almost lunges for the phone to see who is the most recent call, but it's not needed as the roof door slams open.

"Why are you here?" She shouts, walking away now furious that tears are already filling her eyes now just at the sight of him.

"Nice to see you too princess." He drawls back, following her further onto to roof.

"Will you two be okay? I have to go back to class."

She spins to glare at her friend, why would she leave her alone with Seojun? They have had any interaction at school that hasn't been antagonistic.

"Yes, we need to talk." He answers for them and that's enough to make Ju-Kyung nod before walking off with a smile in her direction. The door shuts loudly behind her retreating back, Sujin wants to chase after her. Instead she turns back to him spitting fire and poison.

"I told you to mind your business."

"Are you okay?" He counters, eying her like a wild animal who can bolt at any minute, he isn’t wrong.

"That's none of your business!"

His expression remains the same, those beguiling feline eyes that scream at her.

"How hurt are you?"

Her emotions come crashing down again. He just keeps pushing and picking at her, no matter how much she shouts and shoves him away he just won’t go away like everyone else did. What is wrong with him? Couldn’t he see that she was more trouble than she was worth?

"What do you want to hear, huh? That everything hurts, that he used a belt this time! Do you want to hear about how he beat me until I bleed! Why do you care what happens me, why won't you leave me the fuck alone!"

Sobs ravage her body, she keeps brushing the fiery tears away fighting with her emotions but they won't stop and her palms are wet from covering her face, her breath is hitching until she starts hiccupping uncontrollably and she starts to feel light-headed.

"Hey! Su-jin! Breathe!"

But she can't, she doesn't remember how. Her body only knows how to hurt.

"Breathe, damnit!" Despite his shout, she hears the slight quiver in his voice but she can't discern why it's there but it desperately makes her want to obey.

When he cups her head, staring her head on she feels the vine wrapped around her lungs shrivel up and air starts gushing in until she feels dizzy, she sways back and forth gravity now also working against her and then she's being reeled in, her head placed on his chest. The thumping of his heart lulls her into a meditative state, she starts to count the beats and before she knows it the cobwebs in her head subside. Embarrassed by their sudden closeness, his arms are still by his side now almost immediately retracting from her head but she can feel his warmth radiating onto the skin of her thighs, she begins to draw back.

"Just stay. It's helping."

She blisters at his words, preparing to push him away.

"It's helping me, seeing you like that....it scared me. I helped you the other night, you should return the favor."

She puffs up before deflating, she'll never admit it but this is helping having something else to focus on, his scent, his heartbeat, the way his chest expands and constricts with every breath. The buzz of their skin nearly touching, his deep voice rumbling through his chest and into her ears, all placating and soothing her worries away.

"Fine."

She's never known Seojun to stay still for this long after years of attending the same school, always bursting with kinetic energy so she's pleasantly surprised by how long he simply stands and lets her rest on his chest, neither of them saying a word.

She stiffens when he suddenly starts moving disturbing their stillness, she sees his hands balled into tight fists by his side and wonders what's going through his mind.

"You can't go back there."

This again, she starts to remind him that she has nowhere to g--

"Stay with me."

#true beauty #true beauty kdrama #kang sujin #han seojun #the couple that should have been #timeline is around recent episodes just minus ALL of the bullshit #sujin is a good girl and I won't hear anything else #can't wait to make her smile

97 notes · View notes

blitheringmcgonagall · 4 years ago

Note

Ahsbejsnfjr Mia!!!! CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!!

I'm so Happy for you :)))) 💛💛💛😁😁😁😀😀😀🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

Anyways can I get Sirius and Lily brotp please......💛💛💛

You can't tell me she wasn't bestie with Sirius before James. They are so amazing!!!!!!

@secretsongdeer thank you!!! to celebrate a very exciting/big reader milestone of We Can Be Heroes on fanfic.net (I still can’t get over it, I much prefer ao3 but anyway!), I asked for prompts and so... Okay so this got out of control and ended up being more that just Blackevans brotp but I hope you like it...

Prongs, what did you do?

“I hate men!” Lily said, flinging her bag onto the floor of the Gryffindor common room and throwing herself onto the sofa.

Sirius Black, who was already seated on said sofa and had been pretending to read when she came in, looked up briefly, raising his left eyebrow.

“What?” said Lily.

“I am a man, Evans,” he said.

“And?” Lily said, sending him a petulant scowl.

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Sirius said, trying not to smile as he went back to pretending to read said book.

“Very like that,” she said, sliding down the sofa and crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Any particular chap bothering you today?” he asked lightly.

“I told you, all of them!” Lily said, rolling her eyes at him.

“All of them in particular?” Sirius asked.

“Well... I can’t tell you about one of them,” she said, kicking her foot against the low footstool.

That had to be Snape. Sirius made a mental note to hex the bastard as soon as the opportunity arose.

“And?”

“I can’t tell you about the other two either,” Lily said, throwing her head back against the cushion and sighing again.

Snape’s friends. The six mini Death-Eaters Snape hung around with could all do with additional hexing, the bigoted bastards. He clenched his jaw.

“And?” he said.

“And your stupid, infuriating friend!” Lily said, looking up at him again and glaring.

Her emerald eyes were utterly beautiful, but most people found them scary as fuck when she was angry.

Sirius Black was not most people. He knew Lily Evans like the back of his hand. This was only a recent and rather startling discovery.

“Ah, Prongs?” he said, failing to keep a straight face. “What’s he done this time?”

“He’s...”

“Yes?”

“He’s... well, if you must know, it’s more a case of what he hasn’t done!” Lily scowled.

“You’ve lost me there,” Sirius said, putting down his book and turning towards her. “Evans?”

“Black.”

“I’m notoriously impatient.”

“That’s not a virtue, and you need to work on it,” Lily huffed.

“Duly noted,” Sirius grinned. “You’re pretty impatient too, by the way, old thing.”

“So?”

“So, à propos de rien, what did Prongs do?”

“French doesn’t suit you, Black.”

“I think it does, actually,” Sirius said, flicking his hair and settling back into the couch more comfortably.

Lily glanced up at him briefly.

“Oh fine. I’ll allow that.”

“I’m always right,” Sirius said, with a smug grin.

Lily gave him an exaggerated eye roll.

“Name once!” she snorted.

“I said you fancied Prongs and I was right,” Sirius said, casually biting into the apple he had been holding in his right hand.

Lily’s cheeks infused prettily.

“You’ve literally never said that!” she yelped.

“I did just now, Evans,” Sirius said smoothly. “And I was right.”

Lily opened her mouth to protest and then closed it.

“Kneazle got your tongue, old thing?” Sirius said, grey eyes sparkling.

“Fuck off!” Lily said, jabbing his shin with her foot.

Sirius folded his arms and stared back.

“I can’t believe I’m telling you this!” Lily said, covering her face with her hands and groaning dramatically. “If you tell him, I swear to-“

“My lips are sealed,” Sirius replied, taking another bite of his apple. “Do tell!”

“I’m going to die of-“ Lily said, still hiding behind her hands.

“High stakes. Sounds like Prongs,” said Sirius, taking another bite.

“Listen, you’d have lost it too if you have just worked up the courage to ask Remus out and another person beat you to it at the last minute!” Lily said, flinging herself back against the armrest with force. “Two seconds ahead of me! Two bloody seconds!”

“What?” said Sirius, looking mortified, and pointedly ignoring the reference to one of his best friends.

“James, Prongs, whatever you call the useless, dorky git.”

“He didn’t say yes though, surely?” said Sirius, who still seemed a bit flummoxed.

“Didn’t he?” Lily said, her voice rising. “Desdemona asked him to go to Hogsmeade on a date. He said, and I’m quoting here, thanks very much that’s so kind of you I’d love to go only in his stupid polite voice.”

Sirius winced.

“And?”

“And?” said Lily, cheeks bright red at this stage. “And then she said oh James, that’s, like, so amazing? I’m going to, like, die of happiness? I can’t wait to, like, tell all my friends, they’re actually, I’m not going to lie, going to scream?” Lily said, putting on a highly convincing version of a snooty pureblood accent. “And then she kissed his cheek and ran off! He stood there, like a deer caught in the headlights! And she’s not horrible or anything, she’s actually quite nice despite her snobby voice, and very attractive to boot, and I’m just being mean and-“

“Fucking hell!” Sirius said, staring at Lily. “What the fuck was he thinking?”

“I know, right?” Lily glared. “Tosser!”

“Blithering idiot!” said Sirius, growling.

“Stupid git!” Lily added.

“Wanker!” said Sirius.

“Gobshite,” Lily said.

“Merlin’s sake, man!” said Sirius.

“Well at least we’re on the same page,” said Lily, shooting Sirius a small smile.

“Blindingly incompetent...” said Sirius.

“Incompetent what?”

“Incompetent flirt? He’s meant to be asking you out?”

“He is?” Said Lily, staring at him in confusion.

“Hand on, when did this happen?”

“A few minutes ago.”

“Merlin, fuck!” Said Sirius, pacing up and down in front of the fireplace. “He’ll come flying in through that door in the next few seconds, Evans, mark my words, so you need to leg it upstairs and let me handle him, alright?”

“Is that wise?” Lily asked, biting her lip.

Sirius stopped pacing and stared at her momentarily.

“Well. I’d say wise would be pushing it,” he said. “but still preferable to your future husband pulling a Prongs.”

Lily raised her right eyebrow.

“Fucking it all up monumentally,” said Sirius, resuming his pacing. “I shall fix this, old girl, leave it to me.”

“What have I done,” groaned Lily as she hurried upstairs.

3333333333333

The door of the Gryffindor common room flew open and James Potter stormed inside.

“Spot of bother with the fairer sex, Prongs?” Sirius said, lounging against the mantelpiece looking suave and sophisticated.

“Why, Padfoot?” James said, slamming the door so hard that the Fat Lady shrieked in fright. “Why is this happening to me, eh? What the ever-living fuck am I meant to do now, eh?”

“Prongs, care to enlighten me as to why the fuck you said you’d go on a date to Hogsmeade with Desdemona Demelza de Mimsy-Porpington?” said Sirius, his voice hard as steel.

James glared back at him and then threw his arms into the air helplessly.

“I have no idea, Padfoot! Literally no idea what possessed me, okay? I’m disgusted at my absolute barminess! It’s like I can’t be rude to a girl and then I can’t tell her she’s wrong either? I’m a disaster, Padfoot! A walking disaster area!”

“I agree. Your idiocy has risen to stratospheric heights, Prongs,” Sirius said, folding his arms crossly. “! just had Evans in here, in literal tears, all your doing!”

“In tears?” Said James, looking appalled and tuggi8ng at his hair with both his hands.

“Howling,” confirmed Sirius.

“Merlin’s tits!” Said James, turning white. “Do you think I-“

“I think your mother shall hear about this,” said Sirius primly, pursing his mouth shut and shaking his head with a disappointed sigh.

“What!” James shouted, looking horrified. “You are not telling mum, Sirius Black, you traitorous turd! It wasn’t my fault! I didn’t mean to-“

“All you have to do is ask the damned girl out, Prongs, it’s not exactly rock ’n’ science.”

“Rock ’n’ what? Oi! Now listen here, you little shit! I won’t have you chastising me like a bloody two-year-old when you are literally doing the exact same thing when it comes to Moony!”

Sirius’ elbow promptly slipped off the mantelpiece.

“Ouch!” He yelped, digging his elbow into his side. “What the fuck is that meant to mean!”

“Oh don’t you try this palaver on me, Padfoot! I damn well know you’ve had the hots for Moony for at least the last six months, and you’ve done fuck all about it, so don’t get on your high horse and-“

“What?” Sirius croaked, his voice shrill with fear. “I haven’t ever-“

“Oh shut up, Pads! I’ve had to listen to all sorts of Godforsaken moans coming from your bed as you call out Moony’s name. Darling Moony! Remus yes! Moony don’t stop!”

“What?” Sirius is now white as a sheet. “B-but I put up silencing charms every single night?”

“Yeah, about that, you never learnt how to cast a very effective silencing charm, mate. Which was fine, I covered for you, until you started mouthing off this gross stuff about Moony. I sent a remedial charm so don’t worry, Remus didn’t hear you mooning over him. He just thinks you are obsessed with Benjy now.”

Sirius stared at him, momentarily speechless.

“Excuse me?” he croaked. “He what?”

“Yes, well, I may have charmed your voice to say Benjy every time you said the word Moony or Remus,” James said, not looking at all apologetic.

“What? Why? Why would you do that?” said Sirius, looking at James with abject horror.

“Because I was sick of you both! Useless gits!” said James. “You’re both besotted and doing fuck all about it!”

“Fuck all? I’ll have you know, you may not have noticed, but I’ve been flirting my arse off with Moony for MONTHS now Prongs, months! And where has that got me? Nowhere! I don’t think I could be any more bloody obvious!” Sirius said, looking affronted.

“Don’t be ridiculous! You and I may think it’s obnoxiously obvious you fancy him when you send him origami notes telling him stuff like Can I have your picture so I can show Santa what I want for Christmas? Or even Guess what's on the menu? Me-n-u, but Moony,” said James.

“But Moony what?” said Sirius, looking frazzled. “What the fuck could he possible think that relates to?”

“I bet he thinks you’re joking around, old chap,” said James calmly. “I did at the start.”

“Merlin, what the hell could he possibly think when I said Here I am. What are your other two wishes?” said Sirius.

“It’s Moony we’re talking about, not an ounce of sense in him when it comes to you, Padfoot!”

“He doesn’t like me!” said Sirius, his voice rising. “The time I sent him that note saying Are you French? Because Eiffel for you, do you know what he did? He turned around and told me, and I quote here, You’re a fucking idiot!”

“Merlin’s tits, Sirius!” shouted James, grabbing a hold of Sirius’ shirt collar. “That’s Moony’s way of flirting with you, you imbecile!”

“What?” said Sirius, eyes as wide as saucers.

“You’re blind!” said James heatedly.

“But how the fuck does Moony thinking I fancy the pants off Benjy help me?” Sirius said, grabbing a hold of James’ Quidditch top in turn and shaking him.

The door of the Gryffindor common room burst open once more. Remus Lupin stood there, eyes narrowed, lip curled, fists clenched, looking as though he planned on taking on every single wannabe Death-Eater in Hogwarts at once and could easily beat them. Sirius drew in a short breath, suddenly aware he was standing very close to James.

“Pray continue, don’t let my presence interrupt the snogging session you two had planned there,” Remus said, in a voice so icy that the dripping disdain had solidified.

“This is how it helps,” said James pleasantly, beaming at Sirius proudly.

“Oh fuck,” whispered Sirius. “Prongs, what did you do?”

If you liked it I can finish it??? It’s basically Jily & Wolfstar both oblivious idiots with wingmates Padfoot & Prongs (major Jily & Wolfstar shippers respectively) to the, ahem, (supposed) rescue....

100 notes · View notes

vilevampire · 4 years ago

Text

“Falling Apart” (One Shot)

Thank you @reesiereads for helping me beta read/edit this. Ily <3 Rating: Teen and up audiences Trigger Warnings: Self-harm, cutting, gender dysphoria, transphobia, deadnaming Pairing: Louie Duck x B.O.Y.D Summary: Boyd uncovers Louie's most well-kept secrets. 2.110 words Ao3 Link

Louie stared at himself in the mirror.

He was the same height as his brothers.

He had the same face as them.

They shared the same eyes.

The same feathers.

The same bill.

He moved his attention over to his hair.

It was short now, but it hadn't always been.

He reminisced about the time he got his first haircut years ago. He vividly remembered the rush of adrenaline that came over him one night. But most of all, he remembered that feeling. That disturbing, nauseating feeling of wrongness.

The same feeling he always had whenever he looked at himself in the mirror.

That was the first time he had recognized that feeling, and it was the reason he decided to cut his hair on a whim. It brought him some temporary relief, but…

He shook the memories away, looking at the other parts of his body and shuddering.

It was wrong.

Nothing was missing, per se.

Everything was in its proper place.

All of his limbs were still intact.

His five senses were all still working, too.

And, yet, something was wrong.

Deeply, irrevocably wrong.

A recurrent, nauseating feeling of despair engulfed him.

He closed his eyes forcefully and grasped the knife in his pocket. The familiar handle was the only thing helping him maintain his connection with reality. He opened his eyes again, staring over at himself one last time.

This time, he couldn't stop the tears from flowing out.

—————

A big family dinner; they had those fairly often.

Sometimes Uncle Scrooge would be too busy, or Uncle Donald would be working overtime, but they still tried their best to reserve some time off for spending quality time with their family. And with Christmas right around the corner, the mood was bright and merry. Even Louie was feeling pretty good, all things considered.

He enjoyed the time spent with his family, the holiday cheer and (best of all) the presents that came along with it.

Plus, he got to stuff himself with food.

It was the first time in a while that he actually looked forward to something.

This time, Huey had invited his friend Boyd over for dinner.

Louie had been friends with Boyd for a couple of weeks now, and in all honesty, he was crushing hard on him. Boyd was sweet, caring, and adorable. Somehow, he could always tell whenever Louie was feeling down and helped him cheer up. He laughed at all of his jokes, broke into the most beautiful smiles, knew about all kinds of amazing things; and gave the best hugs. Plus, he was a super cool technologically advanced android.

It was no wonder Louie fell for him in a matter of days.

Despite being Huey's best friend, Boyd got along just as well with the rest of his siblings. Right now, they were discussing the possibility of spending Christmas together this year.

"I would love to," Boyd admitted. "But I really want to spend the holidays with mom and dad this year."

Louie shuddered at the mention of the Drakes.

"Understandable." Huey nodded. "Let's see, maybe you can come over again after the holidays?" Huey shot a questioning glance at Della and Donald, who looked over at Scrooge, who was currently busy reading the newspaper.

"Hm? Yeah, yeah whatever." He gestured vaguely, most of his attention still on the paper.

The kids all cheered.

"Wait, can I invite Lena and Violet too?" Webby spoke up abruptly. "We can make it into a sleepover! I'm sure Lucy would appreciate having more girls to hang out with as well, right Lu?"

Louie bit down painfully on his tongue. None of the people at the table noticed his pain, however. The only thing they saw was Louie offering them a sweet smile. "Yeah, sure."

Once again, they turned to Uncle Scrooge in search of approval… with no response. It seemed he wasn't listening, so Donald pulled the newspaper out of his hands. "This is the first time in weeks we're getting to spend time together with the whole family and you keep looking at that newspaper! Can't you at least talk to them a bit?" Donald hissed.

He was a family man through and through.

Scrooge huffed, a sour expression on his face. "That's because ye haven't seen what's on it! The sheer amount of baloney they can fit in a page is insanity!"

Donald raised an eyebrow, straightening up the paper to read what was on it.

"...Transgender activism?"

Louie's heart stopped. His fork slipped out of his hands and onto the plate. He stuck his hands inside his pockets. Nobody noticed this though, for they all had their eyes set on Scrooge now. Even Della stopped devouring her food to look around the table for the first time.

"Yeah, whatever ye wanna call it." Scrooge rolled his eyes. "It's just a bunch ah crybabies, that's what they are."

Louie closed his eyes forcefully, trying not to freak out.

"Back in the day, we didn't have any of that garbage." Another scoff. Another stab of pain in Louie's heart. "I mean, love whoever you wanna love and be whatever you wanna be, but this is just too much—"

Louie pushed back from the table.

Eyes all around turned on him at that moment.

He didn't care.

All he wanted was to run away.

"Sorry, I'm… on that time of the month." He lied through his teeth. That was his go-to excuse for when he needed some time alone.

It always worked.

Without saying anything else, he stormed out of the dining room without looking back. Had he only stayed for a minute longer and listened to the conversation, he would have heard his friends and family scolding Scrooge over his ignorance.

But he didn't.

Instead, he ran up the stairs and locked himself in the bathroom.

—————

Louie made a cut.

It was swift but precise, yet not at all deadly. His breathing turned haggard from the pain. His body ached, begging him to stop. Instead, he simply made another one, drawing patterns on his skin.

He never learned any kind of self-defense techniques, but he was still as skilled as a butcher with his knife. His whole mind focused on the sharp pain that seared around his arms and wrists in bloody lines.

It put him at ease.

Suddenly, quick steps resounded down the hallway.

Louie immediately covered his arms back under his sleeves. Sweating bullets, he tried to hide away the knife inside his pockets as well, but the door burst open before he had the chance to.

Boyd's android eyes easily caught a glimpse of the blade Louie was trying to hide. He stared down at Louie, completely horrified.

"Lucy, you—"

"Go ahead and judge me!" Louie cut him off before he could finish speaking. "I don’t care what you think of me."

That was a lie. It was a lie and he knew it.

He cared far too much about what Boyd would think now that he knew about one of his secrets.

But he couldn't afford to show it.

Louie closed his eyes forcefully, afraid of seeing the expression on Boyd's face.

He already knew what he would find anyway.

Shame.

Disappointment.

Disgust.

A familiar, nauseating feeling of fear ran through Louie's entire being. He tried to stop his body from shaking but found that he wasn't able to. At first, only silence reigned. Louie had no idea what Boyd was doing or if he was even still in the room.

Suddenly, he felt something cold touch him.

Boyd had pulled him into a hug.

"I’m so sorry." He sounded devastated. "I’m sorry I couldn't notice your pain sooner."

Boyd's metallic arms wrapped around him felt much more comfortable than he thought it would.

Louie tried to hold back his tears and failed.

Slowly, what were only supposed to be quiet sobs, increasingly grew into louder and louder crying that reverberated throughout the whole room.

"I—"

"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to say anything. You don't have to explain yourself or justify your actions. And you don't have to tell me what you're going through if you don't want to." The more Boyd spoke those gentle words to him, the more Louie could feel his heart rate peacefully go down. "I love you, you're my friend, and I'm here for you whenever you need me."

Just when Louie's weeping had started to diminish, another wave of tears burst from his eyes and onto Boyd's shoulders. He couldn't bring himself to say anything, so he simply hugged Boyd back and let the warm tears flow down his face.

Eventually, Louie pushed him away. He rubbed his face, trying to get rid of any signs of tears. That would be impossible since his eyes were red and puffy from the crying, but he did the best he could anyway.

"Um, Lucy? Can I ask you something?"

Louie nodded.

"Why are the bandages out of the cabinet? And why does your breathing sound… constricted?"

Louie's heart stopped.

He forgot about the bandages.

"I… injured myself." it was the best lie he could come up with on the spot.

Boyd might have actually believed that if it weren't for the fact that he was a highly sophisticated robot with more than enough capacity to determine whether somebody was injured or not.

He carefully scanned the room. There were no traces of blood anywhere, nor did Louie seem to be in pain; maybe only mild discomfort. Since he couldn't see any bandages wrapped around Louie's cuts on his arms either, he guessed that they must have been concealed by the hoodie.

Boyd's eyes widened as he connected the dots.

"Hey, by any chance are you… binding your chest?"

Louie's heart dropped to his stomach.

He couldn't answer, but that was enough confirmation for Boyd.

"That's… not good." Boyd started saying, and Louie steeled himself for rejection.

But it didn't go the way he expected it to.

"If you bind unsafely, you could severely damage your ribcage. You should only use professional binders that you can order online."

Louie stared at him in shock.

"...Or are you not actually binding? Did I get that wrong?"

Louie almost caught himself nodding to that subconsciously before he could stop himself.

He was used to lying.

He had been doing it his entire life.

He was good at it, too.

But…

He looked up and down at Boyd, who was still waiting for his answer.

"Hey, can you keep a secret?"

He decided to trust him.

A part of himself was panicking inside of his mind. It was scary, new, terrifying. He hated going through situations where he couldn't safely predict the results. But another part of himself knew this was probably the right thing to do. This part of himself was tired of hiding, tired of lies and tricks.

Goddammit, he just wanted to be accepted for who he was.

Why was it so difficult?

Boyd nodded at him. "Of course. I won't tell anybody."

Louie fiddled with his knife, building up his courage to speak up. "I'm trans," He hesitated. "and I prefer… I prefer to go by Louie, actually."

He did it.

He said those words out loud for the first time.

He told somebody about his true identity.

"That's… amazing, Louie. I'm so proud of you." Boyd offered his sweetest smile. "Have you told your family yet?"

Louie shook his head. "You're the first one I'm telling."

"Really? I'm glad you felt like you could trust me." Boyd blushed a little. He really did seem happy about it. "I won't tell anyone, I promise."

For some reason, Louie felt like he was telling the truth.

Louie couldn’t remember when the last time he felt this comfortable around somebody else was. Most of all, he was just glad to be able to get that off his chest.

"Actually, can I ask you something as well?" Louie brought up suddenly. He had been curious about something for a while now.

"Of course Louie, you can ask me anything."

Louie felt euphoric, not only at the mention of his preferred name, but also at Boyd's display of trust.

"...How did you know?"

Boyd blinked innocently. "How did I know what?"

"How did you know I was… cutting?" The last word came out as barely a whisper.

"Oh! Easy. Robot super-hearing." Boyd grinned impishly as he answered.

...Louie made a mental note to never underestimate Boyd again.

In the future, he would have to come out to the rest of his family.

That wouldn't happen today though.

He made progress. For now, this was enough.

38 notes · View notes

l-egionaire · 4 years ago

Text

Owl House Fanfiction: I love The Found Family Trope!

Posted on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29417493

Eda had gotten used to a lot of different ways of waking up after her getting her curse.

The first few times it happened, she'd unfortunately routinely woken up to find herself naked. (Titan, was she grateful when she'd finally found a spell that made her clothes change with her and didn't have to keep dumpster diving or "borrowing" clothes)

Once that was taken care of, her post transformation wake ups were slightly more comfortable, if predictable. She'd come too laying on the ground, her body's usual aches, pains, and stiffness seemingly doubled to the point where she could barely move. If she was in someone's house she'd likely be surrounded by overturned furniture and fixtures all covered in claw and bite marks. If she was lucky any people that might've been there would've already run and hid. If she wasn't….well, she knew a good amount of healing magic and potions. No matter how much damage she might have caused, most people wouldn't turn down having their injuries taken care of.

And after that, things changed. Even if the person she was living with didn't kick her out, she could still see how they acted differently. They avoided eye contact with her, didn't stay in the same room with her for longer than two seconds, and she couldn't help but notice how they always seemed to lock their doors at night, nevermind whether she'd taken her elixir or not. Needless to say, when that happened she was gone before a week even passed. Someone being afraid of her or thinking she was a freak she could handle. But she preferred that to them tiptoeing around it and pretending to be okay with her when they were secretly scared.

Considering all of that, waking up safely in her nest with a bottle of elixir in her mouth was a new experience.

She wasn't that shocked once she'd gotten the whole story. She'd never explained what her elixir did to King, and Luz thinking it was some special magic boosting potion sounded just like her. But what really surprised her were their reactions.

After making sure Hooty was put back up and okay, they'd come by to check on her. Luz, having worried she might not be feeling well, had brought her a bowl of some strange human concoction called "chicken soup" that she'd gotten from a can in her junk collection. ("It's no magic potion but my mom. always made me chicken soup when I wasn't feeling well.) She'd also gotten her a person sized pillow that had the image of some male human character with spiky hair on it and with a little work slid it beneath Eda in her nest. The thing may have looked weird but it was comfy as heck and felt great for her sore back. Meanwhile King, still looking regretful about snatching her elixir, had fixed her a mug of apple blood as a peace offering.

While the mixture of alcohol and salty human bird water helped soothe some of her pain, Eda couldn't help but notice her apprentice and her housemate still standing off to the side of her nest. Both of them simply stood and watched as she ate and drank, staying oddly silent and staring at her as if she might disappear mid slurp.

It was almost a little unnerving. She hadn't expected either of them to be this quiet after discovering her curse. She figured Luz would've had her usual million questions about anything magical while King would be demanding to know why she hadn't told him before now.

Then again, it wouldn't surprise her if they were still too in shock. After all, while she had never been able to witness it herself, she knew her cursed form could be pretty terrifying to see. One person she'd lived with had been so freaked out by it, he hadn't been able to make any noise except terrified squeaks for 3 days.

Plus, the way they found out was pretty sudden. Sure, King shouldn't have stolen her elixir but it wasn't like he knew what it was for or why she took it. In fact, a part of her hoped he'd never find out.

But the cat was off the staff now. She knew that the two of them must still be curious, otherwise they wouldn't still be there. So it was time to witch up and deal with it.

Eda drank the last few dregs of soup from her bowl and drained the rest of her apple blood for a little courage before turning to King and Luz.

"Alright you two. I know you probably want to know more about all this. So, let's have it."

Luz and King took a moment to look at each other, almost seeming to have a full conversation in two seconds before turning back to her.

"No thanks." Luz said.

"Yeah, we're good." King agreed.

Eda blinked in confusion. "What? What do you mean?"

"We don't need to know anymore." Luz explained. "This whole curse thing seems kind of personal and besides you already told us all the important parts. So we don't need to know anything else."

Eda stared at her in stunned silence. She looked to King and was even more surprised to see him nod in agreement.

To say this was not what she'd been expecting would be an understatement. Where was the yelling at her for putting them in danger? The demanding answers? The blaming her for not telling them about her curse before all this? Heck, the two of them didn't even look that upset. They just still had those weirdly concerned looks on their faces. Maybe they just worried she'd still be mad about them stealing her elixir and were too scared to bring it up.

But that brought another issue to mind. And while she might have become pretty fond of those two, she knew it would only be a matter of time until it came up.

Ignoring the tight feeling in her chest, Eda said slowly. "Listen…..if you guys want to find somewhere else to stay, I understand."

They both became bug eyed.

"What?!" Luz cried.

"What are you talking about?!" King asked.

Eda looked away from them, doing everything she could to keep the wetness in her eyes from turning into full blown tears.

Suck it up. She thought. It's not like you haven't done this before.

"Luz, you could probably see if one of those Hexside kids might be willing to let you stay with them, and King I-."

"You're kicking us out?!" Luz yelled.

"No!" King scrambled into the nest, got onto his knees and clasped his paws together. "Please Eda, don't! I'll never be able to find anyone else willing to let me live with them without paying! If this is about stealing the elixir, I'm sorry! I swear I won't steal anything you don't tell me to!"

Eda frowned in confusion and turned back to them. "What? No. I mean, yes King, if you steal from me again I'll turn you into a tiny fur rug, but I just meant….you guys really don't want to move out?"

They both looked shocked at her question. "No." "Why would we?"

"Why would- how about because I could have killed you two last night?" She felt bile begin to build in her throat and not the magical kind. "I could have eaten one of you like I did the snaggleback!"

"Oh come on Eda, it wasn't that-."

"Luz." Eda said, her voice hard. She didn't have it in her right now to deal with Luz sunshine attitude.

Luz must have noticed because she sighed and said. "Okay, look Eda. I'm not going to lie and say that today wasn't terrifying or that I wasn't afraid but….Eda, once I realized that the monster that was chasing after us was you? All I could think about was how I could help or what I could do to get you back. I didn't want to lose you."

Eda stared at her apprentice in complete shock. In her past talks with her living mates after they discovered her curse, they always talked about them . Their safety, their terror at her transformation, their discomfort at having Eda stay around after what happened. But Luz was thinking about her and whether she was okay.

It felt….weird. But in a good way. Kind of like a lot of things Luz did come to think of it.

Eda looked down to where King was still sitting in her nest. "And what about you King? You aren't freaked out by my little secret?"

King shrugged. "Eh, at first it was horrifying but after thinking about, its actually pretty cool. You're a demon just like me! Which technically makes you one of my subjects!"

Eda rolled her eyes. Typical King.

"And, since you are one of my subjects…."

"King, I swear to Titan, if you-."

".....than, that also means you fall under my protection." King finished. He walked over to Eda, climbed into her lap where he curled up into a ball. "If anyone wants to hurt you, they'll first have to go through me!"

Eda couldn't hide the amazement on her face as she gazed down at King. Then she felt something softly touch her shoulder. She looked over and saw Luz had placed a hand on her and was giving her a loving look.

"We're not going anywhere Eda. Us weirdos have to stick together, remember?"

Eda couldn't believe what she was hearing. Even after they both spent the night being terrorized by her and knew about her curse, they still insisted on sticking around.

They weren't going to leave her.

Luz suddenly frowned and looked at her worriedly. "Hey, what's wrong?"

It took Eda a moment to realize that there was a tear streaming down her face. She quickly wiped it away.

"Uh, no Luz, I just, uh, really loved that soup you brought me. There any chance there's some more?"

"I'll go dig through trash for another can!" Luz excitedly sprinted out the door.

Eda looked down at King. "Would my so-called "King" be willing to fix his new subject another apple blood?"

King stood up from her lap and stretched. "I suppose its what any humble ruler would do for his wounded subject." King took her mug and scrambled out of her nest and out the door.

Eda sighed fondly and layed back on her spiky hair human pillow, taking in the sight of the many light orbs that now dotted her ceiling thanks to her apprentice.

We're not going anywhere Eda.

If anyone wants to hurt you, they'll first have to go through me

Eda chuckled. "Thanks you two

#The Owl House #Owl House #ToH #the owl house eda #eda the owl lady #eda owl house #eda the owl witch #eda clawthorne #toh king #king of demons #king owl house #toh luz #luz owl house #luz noceda #Fanfiction #Owl House fanfic #fanfic #Ao3

53 notes · View notes

kinglazrus · 5 years ago

Text

Expectations

Prompt from @danphanwritingprompts: Maddie had suspected her youngest child of having some kind of ghostly influence for a while. So she was expecting for them to reveal that. Not admit that he’s trans.

Word count: 1145

Maddie may spend a lot of time down in the lab, maybe too much time, but she can still tell when something is up with one of her children. Especially when it involves ghosts. She's noticed the bruises, and the late nights, and the slipping grades. All troubling signs that have her worried about her youngest. But the tipping point is how her and Jack's gadgets react to Danny.

Every invention that leaves the lab is carefully calibrated to react to ghosts and only ghosts. If Maddie and Jack didn't take the time to perfect this setting their lab would be a minefield of gadgets ready to go off at a moment's notice. Every ectoplasmic sample, every ecto-powered gun, would trigger alarms.

But the Ghost Gabber, the Booo-merang, the Fenton Finder and more all go off around Danny, no matter how much calibrating Maddie does. As much as she hates to admit it, that leaves her with few explanations. But Maddie doesn't want to jump to conclusion, and she doesn't want to frighten her youngest with her assumptions, so she sits back and waits for Danny to come to her.

It takes months before Danny finally approaches her.

"Hey, Mom?"

Maddie, busy stirring the batter for a new cookie recipe, pauses. Something in Danny's tone catches her attention, tells her this isn't the simple, casual hello of a child to their mother, but a nervous call for attention. Maddie places her mixing bowl down on the counter and turns.

Danny doesn't meet her eyes, head ducked, fingers running through unruly hair, not quite short, but the shortest it's ever been. A smart move, if Maddie's suspicions are right. Long hair only gets in your eyes when you're that active. It's the reason she keeps her own hair so short. She takes in Danny's baggy hoodie and long basketball shorts. Her heart aches wondering what bruises they hide.

"Yes, sweetie?" Maddie keeps her voice calm, not wanting to spook Danny.

"There's something... something I want to talk to you about."

"You know you can always tell me anything."

"I know. I think I know. I hope I can. This is kind of really important. Like, really, really important." Danny shakes with nerves, rubbing at eyes that aren't quite watery, but aren't quite clear.

Hoping to make things easier, Maddie kneels and pulls Danny into a hug. "I think I already know what this is about."

Danny stiffens, shoulders going rigid, and mumbles, "You do?"

"I've suspected for a while, after noticing the signs. You must have been so scared, and I'm so sorry if we made you feel like you couldn't tell us," she says, hugging tighter. Danny hiccups and hugs back. "I don't think your father knows, but we can tell him together. We love you no matter what, Danny. You'll always be our little girl."

Danny's breath hitches, and suddenly she's out of Maddie's arms and standing halfway across the kitchen. "What?"

Maddie blinks, stunned, thrown off by the sudden rejection. Confusion clouds her youngest daughter's eyes, and Maddie can't fathom where it came from. "Danny?"

"What do you think I'm trying to tell you?" Danny asks. She stands guarded, arms loosely crossed in front of her, body turned away from Maddie.

Maddie feels nothing short of baffled. What did she get wrong? What did she say wrong? Other than outright confessing, she can't think of a way to breach the sudden gap between them. So that's exactly what she does. "I know you're a ghost."

Danny goes pale as, well, a ghost. The blood drains from her face, shock and fear filling her eyes. Maddie thinks she's going cry. Instead, she grabs her hair and shouts, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Rosaline Danielle Fenton!" Maddie admonishes on instinct. "Language!"

Danny ignores her, instead staring at her hands. "You notice that, but you don't notice this? What the hell! I wasn't even– how did you–" She breaks off with bitter, incredulous laughter. "Why did you notice that?"

"It wasn't hard once I had all the pieces. You look just like you did before cutting your hair. Although I don't approve of how you've modelled yourself after the ghost boy." Judging by Danny's broken expression, that isn't what she wanted to hear, but it's the only thing Maddie had to say. The only thing she can give Danny is the truth.

"Modelled? What do you..." Danny stills and trails off. Her eyes widen, then narrow. "No, Mom. That's Danielle."

"Yes," Maddie nods, "Danielle Phantom. Using your middle name isn't as sneaky when you already go by it."

"No, Mom. You're not listening. That's not me, that's Danielle. I'm–"

"Honey, it's okay." Maddie doesn't understand why Danny is resisting so much. This should have been easy, but now she feels like she's fighting Danny on something they both know. "You don't have to lie. I'm not mad that you're the ghost girl–"

"I'm not the ghost girl; I'm the ghost boy!" Danny bellow rings out through the kitchen, her voice carrying the trace of an echo as it expands to fill every corner, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. She continues softly, "I'm Danny Phantom. I'm... I'm trans, Mom."

"Oh." Maddie takes a moment to properly process that. "Oh." She can't believe how wrong she got it—sort of. Apparently, she's right after all, and Danny is a ghost. Not the ghost she thought, but the one Maddie and Jack talk about hunting all the time. Guilt washes through her, a thick sludge that clings to her bones and leaves her feeling sick. She said those things in front of Danny. She said them about Danny to Danny.

And she's saying nothing now. She feels the horrified expression on her face, sees the growing despair on Danny's, and realizes he thinks this expression is for him. It is, but not that way. Never that way.

"Do you need a binder?" Maddie asks in a rush. That isn't what she meant to say. She meant to say I love you and I accept you, but the moment she processed those words—I am trans—a hundred thoughts flew through her head about what that meant for Danny, and what he might need from her. "Or hormones? Unless you don't want them. But it's okay if you do, or if you don't."

"Mom."

"Oh, and clothes. You have a lot of Jazz's hand-me-downs. I'm sure that's not what you want to keep wearing."

"Mom."

"I'm sorry, Danny, I– do you still want us to call you Danny? Or is that why you started going by your middle name in the first place? If you want to change it, we can. Anything you need, you father and I can–"

"Maddie!" Danny's tone makes her freeze. She recognizes that tone. Lower than Danny's speaking voice, sounding closer to a pre-pubescent boy, it's the voice Phantom uses with citizens. The voice he uses with Maddie and Jack.

Danny's right in front of Maddie again, posture no longer defensive, although he still looks to be on the brink of tears. But this time there's a tentative smile on his face.

Maddie stops. Finally, she says, "I love you, sweetie. And I accept you. But we still need to talk about your ghost hunting, young la– uh, mister."

Danny throws himself forward and wraps his arms around Maddie's waist, tears of joy spilling from his eyes. "I love you too, Mom."

Running a hand through Danny's hair, Maddie smiles. The ghost hunting talk can wait for now.

#trans danny #fluff #family #maddie fenton #danny phantom #danny fenton #prompt fill #tumblroneshots #danny phantom fanfiction #phanfic

405 notes · View notes