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romirola · 3 years ago

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hi!!! could i request "i dunno who taught you that love comes with conditions and limitations, but mine doesn’t. not when it’s you." with asher and babe? thank you! :)

Hi, @angel-bubbles! Thank you so much for your request! It ended up being a bit longer than I was originally aiming, but hope you enjoy!

Rating: T, WC: ~2.1K, Prompts: "I dunno who taught you that love comes with conditions and limitations, but mine doesn’t. not when it’s you," and Asher/Babe

Babe stared blankly at the half-painted walls before them. They darted their eyes all around to the room to take in the full scene. A drop cloth that covered half of the floor sat with little puddles of white paint. Color swatches were lazily taped to shelving in a variety of colors. And Asher was in the middle of it all, dried paint marring his face and hands like stripes. He wore a pair of faded overalls with no shirt, standing up on a ladder to reach the corner of the kitchen without any spillage over into the ceiling.

“Hey, Babe,” he greeted with a warm, welcoming smile. “You’re home early! I wanted to have this part done as a surprise.

Babe had come home early from work with a headache under the agreement that they could get all of the necessary paperwork for the upcoming pitch deck their team had spent the last week compiling proofed, edited, and ready to go by Monday. The faint scent of paint fumes was not helping their headache they suspected was actually a migraine, nor was the realization that Asher had apparently decided to spend his day off ruining any chance of the security deposit that Asher and Babe had just paid for only six weeks ago would be returned to them someday.

“A surprise?” they echoed, stepping around the drop cloths to avoid getting their work clothes stained. They opened their palms and moved their hands from side to side. “We can’t paint this apartment! We live in a complex with rules about this shit. We need to go through the building company, submit a request, get permission in writing.” They rubbed the back of their wrist along their eyes in an attempt to displace the pressure that was growing inside their head.

It would take a solid few hours of cleaning just to get the room back into its normal order. Even if they had the energy to clean the kitchen and to remove the paint, which they didn’t, Babe still had a mountain of work to check over before the workday ended. All they wanted at that moment was to curl up into a ball on their bed, shut out any semblance of light and sound, and sleep until their headache dissipated.

Asher was too engrossed in his job to notice how dejected Babe looked behind the sunglasses they sported on their way home despite a lack of sun that day.

“Oh, don’t worry about all that,” Asher shrugged off. He let his paint roller fall to the floor before he made his way down the ladder to approach Babe. He hastily rubbed his hands on his overalls to clear his hands of any wet paint. “We’re planning to stay here for a while anyway,” he reminded them brightly. “And you said how dingy and faded the yellow looked. So, tah dah!” he announced, gesturing to the wall with overly dramatic spirit fingers. “I’m not about to let my mate live in a home with a kitchen they think is dingy and dull. And I got a bunch of sample options so we can decide how to do the trim. I'm thinking purple!”

Asher and Babe had moved in together shortly after Asher had asked them to be his mate. They planned for weeks, scoping out the perfect apartment that was both large enough and wouldn’t drain their now-joint bank account. It also had to be close to the bus line Babe used to get to work as well as close enough to the Shaw Security office for Asher. It was the perfect apartment in so many ways, but when Asher heard Babe make a comment a week ago about how they’d love to redecorate the kitchen, starting with the paint color, he sprang into action and planned a surprise for them.

“I… I…” Babe sputtered. They weren’t even really sure as to what they wanted to tell Asher. Yell at him for breaking the rules? Thank him for having the balls to make their home their own despite what any building company told them? Vomit from the sickening paint smell that threatened to overwhelm their overstimulated senses? Or perhaps, they didn’t want to say anything. Did they want to fall into Asher’s chest and have him massage their forehead until their pain lessened.

Rather than opt for any one of those responses, Babe just turned on their heel and marched to their bedroom without a word.

Asher’s spirit fingers drooped, along with the rest of his body. He hurriedly followed them into the bedroom, careful not to let his body bump into any furniture as he did so in case there was still wet paint on his clothes. He didn’t know what had Babe so upset, but he did know that marking up the furniture they had just purchased would not make them feel any better.

Asher found them sitting on the floor at the corner of the bed, running a shaking hand through their hair, their sunglasses tossed to the side. “Babe?” he asked quietly, shuffling up beside them and dropping to his knees. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

“Just…” Babe bit out, the dull throbbing across their skull turning into a forceful pounding. They knew how upset they would often get when they felt a migraine coming on, but they didn’t want to subject Asher to that. They hadn’t had to worry about something like that for years now, because they had lived alone. It scared them to let Asher see this part of them because they knew it was a side of them that wasn’t particularly loveable. The absolute last thing they wanted to do was upset Asher or say something that they would regret. It might cause him to rethink this whole living situation, and Babe wanted nothing more than to take this next step with Asher. “Leave me alone,” they finally managed to say.

“What?” Asher sat back on his heels, his expression twisting into a cross between confusion and discomfort. “Babe, come on. Talk to me.” His lips pressed into a thin, straight line. “I’ll change the kitchen back,” he appealed. “I promise. You won’t even know I painted. Just a little paint thinner and a little scraping and we’ll be good to go. No harm, no foul.” He searched Babe’s face for a glimpse of a smile, but instead, they only shut their eyes and turned away from him, distressing Asher even more. “Babe?”

“Those awful fumes,” they sighed. Babe could barely focus on anything but the pain exploding in their brain and the wave of nausea churning in their gut. They clung to the last bit of control they could muster, pointing to their head with one hand as they hid their face with the other. “Migraine,” they finally explained shortly. “Go away. Please.”

Asher knew that Babe occasionally suffered from migraines. Based on what he could piece together from their brief discussion of the condition and what he could find online, he knew that having one meant Babe was in a considerable amount of pain, that sometimes their stomach would get upset or they would see stars in their line of vision, and that other than waiting it out, silence, stillness and sleep were the one things that got Babe through the attack.

What he didn’t understand was why, if Babe was in so much pain, would they ask him to leave? As much as he always respected their boundaries, Asher sensed that there was something else going on, and he was determined to stay by his mate’s side until he found that out.

“But, you’re hurting,” he said, immediately lowering the register and volume of his voice to accommodate them. “Why would you want me to leave? You can’t possibly think I’d let you sit here, alone and in pain.” He scooted a little bit closer, not wanting to spook them, but remind them he would help them anyway he could, even if that waiting with them was all he could do.

They instinctively scowled at Asher, but then when they realized they were directing their frustration onto him unfairly, their scowl crumpled into a frown. That was exactly what they were afraid of and why they wanted Asher to leave them. “Because,” they replied despondently. “I’m so mean when I get one of these. I can’t help it. I try not to be. I really try!” They clutched their head when their own voice rang annoyingly in their own head. “But I don’t want to say anything to you that I don’t mean. I don’t want you to have to deal with me like this. I don’t…” They hunched forward. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

Asher’s brow furrowed. “‘This’ as in ‘us?’”

Babe gave a teeny tiny nod.

“Aw, Babe,” Asher laughed, a relief soaking into his body. Once he knew that was what was keeping Babe from seeking him out in their time of need, he felt resolved to provide that for them. He reached out his arms to bring Babe into his chest. “You don’t have to worry about that. Not at all,” he assured them as they couldn’t help but get him in a vice grip as they tried to squeeze away their own pain. “I dunno who taught you that love comes with conditions and limitations, but mine doesn’t. Not when it’s you.” Asher cradled them close as he whispered that vow. “I want you. All of you. I want to help you when you’re feeling like this, if I can. At the very least, I want to be there with you when you’re going through it.” He rubbed soothing circles into Babe’s tight back. “You can say whatever you want and guess what? No way that’ll scare me off. You’re stuck with me. I’ve got the mate-bonded certificate to prove it.”

“Really?” Babe asked dumbly. On one hand, they could barely believe what Asher was telling them. They had spent such a big portion of their lives trying to be the perfect family member, friend, boss, employee, and so much more because they had latched onto the idea that if they wavered from that image of perfection, they were giving the people in their lives cause to walk away. On the other, Asher was so different from anyone they’d ever met before. He was kind, compassionate, so fiercely loyal, strong as hell. Of course he meant it when he said he loved them unconditionally.

They knew it meant it because they felt the exact same way towards him.

“Really truly,” Asher winked, sealing that promise with a kiss on the top of their head. “I love you so much, Babe. You feeling a little irritable when you’re sick sure as hell won’t change that.”

Babe let themselves fall into Asher, their muscles going slack as they stopped trying to fight through the pain. “I love you,” they whispered softly. To their shock, the aggression and frustration that they typically felt during a migraine was nowhere to be found. Instead, they only felt safe and relieved to be in Asher’s arms, even if the ache in their head did continue to plague them.

“Let me get you up on the bed now, hmm?” Asher posited, hooking an arm under their knees and one around their mid-back. “It’s gotta be more comfortable than this hard floor.”

“Mhmm. Thank you,” Babe said as they felt Asher place them onto their new mattress. They let their tired body sink into bed. The faintest memory of their work flashed in their mind, but they decided that they could have the pitch done a day late and no one would even know the difference. Asher’s presence had a way of prompting them to rethink their priorities, especially when it came to work and health.

Asher removed his overalls and tossed them outside the door in case there was any trace of paint odor on his clothes. Once that was done, he climbed next to Babe and held them close. Babe struggled to find a comfortable position, but they were also clearly unable to force their body to move. Their attempt at shifting into the bed was clumsy, looking as if they were only aggravating their migraine more. “Can I help?” Asher asked in that same, soothing low register. When Babe gave him a moan of confirmation, he pulled them into his body, guiding their head to rest on his chest. He brought one gentle hand up to their head and began stroking rhythmically. Asher knew that his gesture probably did nothing to chase away the migraine, but he could have sworn he saw the lines around Babe’s eyes soften at his ministrations.

“And, Honey?” they said sleepily, relaxing into Asher. “The kitchen walls looked great. Tomorrow, I’ll help you finish them.”

“Sounds like an awesome plan,” he murmured, continuing to hold them close and run his fingers through their hair. “Feel better soon, Babe. I’ll be right here with you until you do. And forever after that.”

#redacted asmr #redacted fanfiction #redacted asher #redacted babe #thank you!#Requests are still open but I am going to prioritize the handful currently in my inbox and any that come in the next 24 hrs #After that I'll still have my asks open as always but I will not aim to respond to them as quickly as I have been

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amistytown · 3 years ago

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The Brothers Comfort MC During a Panic Attack

This is my first attempt at writing down my headcanons for the brothers, so I apologize if anything is out of character. I meant it to be short and sweet, but it grew out of my control after a while. I’m a perfectionist and wanted to rewrite everything. I made minor edits and am posting it anyway or it’ll sit in my drafts forever; I admit I put the most effort into Lucifer’s, forgive me. Also sorry for the repetitiveness and any typos you may find. I decided to write how the brothers would comfort MC during a panic attack, especially as someone who suffers from anxiety and panic attacks themselves. Honestly, I wrote this as a way to comfort myself since I’ve been dealing with terrible anxiety lately. Of course, everyone experiences anxiety differently, so I can only speak from my own experiences. I didn’t go into detail when it comes to the symptoms themselves because it’s from the point of view of the brothers and only so many are visible to the eye. Trigger warning for depictions of anxiety and panic attacks. Thank you for reading!

LUCIFER

Lucifer is troubled. Following lunch, you disappeared, currently absent from class. This is unlike you, his worry intensifying every minute you’re out of his sight. Yet he maintains his composure, resigning himself to scouring the academy grounds. Time passes at a torturous pace, his thoughts beginning to take a turn for the worst. He contemplates whether to involve his brothers and Lord Diavolo himself at this rate, however the sound of his D.D.D diverts his attention. A wave of relief washes over him at the sight of your name lighting up his screen, chased by frustration at you, your silence, and himself for losing track of you so easily; he couldn’t bear living if anything happened to you under his watch. He expects this behavior from his brothers, not you. Though his heart sinks, the Avatar of Pride uncharacteristically overcome with guilt while he reads your message. Of course, you are not his brothers. He should not have doubted you.

Your texts are apprehensive, a weighty pause between them as you hesitate to lay bare the darkest depths of your soul. He approaches you cautiously, to avoid upsetting you further. Your words alone convey the sheer panic taking possession of you, the last of your strength used to press send. Outside he discovers you, huddled miserably in an isolated corner of the building, swathed in shadow. The desire to shelter you from the world burns within him, but your eyes widen fearfully in his presence, wounding his pride. Immediately, you apologize. Sorry you’re missing class, that you left without telling anyone, and upset him—especially when you’re aware of his busy schedule. You’re sorry for not having the courage to pull yourself together, succumbing to your anxiety, your shame palpable. The hand clutching your D.D.D is trembling, your chest heaving as you struggle to breathe. He aches for you, each tear shed hurting more than the last, your pain managing to touch the very core of his being and set him alight.

If anyone is sorry, it’s him, pride be damned. Kneeling in front of you, he assures you an apology isn’t necessary—your wellbeing of great importance to him. He wants you to rely on him, grateful you confided in him despite your doubts. Hopefully, he can eventually put your mind at ease. His voice low, soothing, he continues to console you, making sure you’re aware he’s not upset, and your feelings are valid. Although he’s not familiar with the inner workings of anxiety itself, he’s willing to listen, learning how to support you to the best of his ability—starting today, providing you’re comfortable accepting his offer. Initially, he prioritized your safety for the sake of the exchange program and Lord Diavolo’s wish to unite the three realms, now it’s merely out of adoration for you, his beloved. Once you’re ready, he’ll let you know you’re not alone. He’s never too busy on your behalf.

Offering you his hand, a smile graces his features as you accept. Slowly, he helps you to your feet, steadying you against him. He notes the way you relax at his touch, shoulders sagging and head coming to rest on his chest. Only you exist in this moment, his gaze not leaving you, not even for a second. Standing in silence until your breathing settles and you regain your balance, he sees you through the height of your attack before escorting you back to the House of Lamentation. He’ll personally excuse you from the remainder of your classes, understanding you need a quiet place to recover. Classical music plays softly in the background of his room, and he’s content to have you in his embrace, drawing you onto his lap after you finish the tea he brewed to calm your nerves. Lucifer pays you special attention, massaging your tired body and kissing you tenderly, his breath fanning across your lips as he reminds you how special you truly are—brave, compassionate, and incredibly loved.

MAMMON

Mammon mourns his loss, wondering how he let them gain the upper hand; admittedly, a foolish mistake on his part. He dreads breaking the news to Lucifer, and the resentment that shows on his brothers’ faces once he confesses does little to ease his mind. Still, he worries about your reaction most of all, knowing his stupidity has put you in a precarious position. In that moment he believes their words—only a greedy scumbag like himself dares to place his human’s happiness on the line. Although certain of his win at the time, he should consider how his actions affect you more often; otherwise, how can he claim he’s the Great Mammon? His confidence is his downfall in the end. Now you’ll suffer along with him. Yet you feign optimism, attempting to soothe everything over despite your innocence. His guilt only grows, a heavy weight on his shoulders. One he deserves.

Three days of waiting on and performing for large crowds at The Fall proves hectic for everyone. He can tell you’re struggling beneath the façade of a composed and hospitable server, going above and beyond to ensure the patrons leave satisfied. Furthermore, you lend him and his brothers a hand, coming to their rescue; it should be him making it as easy on you as possible. His concern for you runs deep, no matter how hard he tries to maintain his usual air of indifference, but you have the nerve to reassure him—it’s meant to be the opposite, dammit. Each night he goes out of his way to check on you, frustrated that you continue to dance around the subject. He can see the exhaustion on your face, hear the slight tremor in your voice, the toll his stupid decision is taking on you, and it stung. You comfort him, even when he’s undeserving, so why won’t you allow him to hold you and kiss the pain away? Not that he’s asked. You should realize by now you can rely on him, right?

Watching you suffer in silence tortures him. He can’t deny it regardless of his best effort to make light of the situation. You barely eat or spend time outside your room, saying you’re tired, which isn’t a lie—working is exhausting, no doubt about it—but he understands you well enough to notice the subtle signs of your anxiety, your smile unable to trick him into believing otherwise. Perhaps you find him as insufferable as his brothers do, or worse, and don’t want to see his face after what he’s done. That doesn’t stop him from showing up at your door, hoping he can offer some form of comfort. However, you keep up appearances, supporting the seven of them during the longest weekend of their lives. You work hard too, his chest swelling with pride as he watches you care for his brothers and customers alike. How can you like an idiot like him? You’re selfless and loving, looking past his flaws to see what lay beneath his sin. His human. His angel. He wants—no needs—you to be okay.

The last day comes and goes in a blur. Finally, he can toss these ridiculous clothes and rabbit ears in the trash and never perform that dance again. Better yet, you’re free of his burden, though the guilt remains. He can’t relax until he’s positive you’re okay, knowing he’s genuinely sorry. Standing outside your room, he tries to muster up the courage to open his heart to you—apologies not his strong suit—when he hears you crying. They’re small, muffled sobs that manage to shake him to his core, blood running cold. Yeah, he should knock, but he can’t control himself, throwing the door open without hesitation and rushing to your side. The sight of your tears is almost too much to bear, and he draws you into his embrace, face heating up at his own moment of vulnerability, but this is about you, not him. He can be strong for you too, telling you everything’s going to be okay, that the Great Mammon is here to help.

After his stupidity, you tell him you were afraid to bother him? He can hardly suppress the shock at your confession, the sadness in your eyes breaking his heart. You wanted to make sure it went smoothly for his sake? You suffer through Hell alone because you chose to put his feelings first? Crazy. Though he thanks you, not completely ashamed to admit he’s touched. However, he tells you that you don’t have to put aside your feelings for his benefit; he prefers to be by your side then know you’re having a rough time on your own. He is your first. Taking the initiative, he asks what he can do to make it up to you, no matter how big or small the request is because he’ll do it in a heartbeat. You opt to stay in his arms, burying your face into his chest, and he wipes away your remaining tears, being as gentle as he possibly can. He can feel how tense your body is, your skin unnaturally warm, and it takes a while until you stop shaking. It’s moments like these he’ll tell you how much you mean to him—that he loves you, okay—and he wants you to come to him for everything. He’ll hold you, taking your hand in his, and kiss you with all the adoration in the world because you’re incredibly important to him. Mammon can attest to that.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan invites you to his room to play video games, a daily routine the two of you have comfortably fallen into. He loves gaming with you, though on occasion you opt to watch instead, thoroughly enthralled by whatever is on the screen. Miraculously, you enjoy listening to him ramble—whether it’s about the game he’s playing, anime he’s watching, or TSL among other things—genuinely showing interest in his passions; he’s incapable of expressing how truly grateful he is for your company. His heart nearly bursts whenever you compliment him on his gaming prowess, encourage him during a particularly intense battle, or merely tell him how you enjoy hanging out. How in the Devildom did a gross otaku like him get so incredibly lucky? He can hardly believe you love him of all demons. The thought alone sounds crazy lmao.

Unable to contain his excitement, he awaits your arrival that night, ensuring everything is perfect when he hears a knock on the door. However, his smile fades the moment he lays eyes on you, mind beginning to race as he wonders why you look miserable, your gaze trained on your hands. Before he can speak, you apologize, dissolving into tears while you return the game he let you borrow. You’re stuttering, completely winded, and he can barely hear you confess to accidentally corrupting his data in your panic. In fact, he loses track of the number of times you choke out a sorry. He treasures his games, his collection extensive, but he cherishes you most of all. The loss is a minor annoyance, nothing that lessens the feelings he harbors for you. Although difficult, he overcomes his insecurities to show you it’s okay—you’re loved.

Not only are you sad, but you’re also terrified, a part of him wanting to destroy the game itself if it means you never have to experience the pain that torments you now. Regarding you carefully, afraid to make matters worse, he reassures you that he’s not upset—far from it, honestly—and that he cares about you more than any game. No stranger to your panic attacks, he reaches out to take your hand in his, hoping you find comfort in what he has to offer. And when you finally glance up, hope shining in your tear-filled eyes, he can’t help but wrap you in his arms. A warmth spreads across his face, heart pounding in his ears, but he knows you need him, allowing his body to relax around yours.

Holding you against him, he tells you everything’s all right, stuttering out how he loves you and, most importantly, wants to you to feel better. Your arms circle around his waist, causing his heart to jump into his throat, but he only pulls you closer. You’re his Henry, and what friend is he if you can’t rely on him? Leviathan is understanding, wanting you to come to him for support at your most vulnerable. Now he puts his knowledge to the test, easing you into his room with continuous words of affirmation. You always know how to console him at his lowest, and he hopes he can return the favor. If anyone deserves to feel loved it’s you, who brought joy into his otherwise bleak world, and he’ll sit with you every day and night if you need him to.

SATAN

Satan knows he shouldn’t be awake, though he finds it difficult to satiate his curiosity as he peruses the books lining his shelves. He barely registers the sound of his D.D.D, reluctant to put the book aside to see who’s messaging him at this ungodly hour; Asmodeus most likely. His tune changes after he sees your name lighting up his screen, his annoyance replaced with worry. He knows you struggle, especially at night, but he can tell you’re hesitant to reach out. Nevertheless, you gradually begin to confide in him, his patience limitless if you’re concerned, and he feels a sense of relief that you choose to trust him at your most vulnerable instead of suffering on your own. Pouring over every book he can locate on anxiety, he studies it religiously, engraining each page into his memory. Not by giving unsolicited advice—he doesn’t want to make that mistake twice—but by comforting you the best he can, even if it simply means to stay by your side, waiting for the panic to pass.

A second later, he appears at your door, gaze softening as your eyes meet. In the darkness of your room, he can tell how exhausted you are. You apologize for bothering him, particularly this late, but he dismisses you with a shake of his head and a reassuring smile, sitting beside you on the bed. It saddens him that you feel the need to, but he’s familiar enough with anxiety by now that he understands how much of a manipulative monster it truly is; if only he can destroy it with his own two hands, strangling the life out of it so it no longer taints that innocent soul of yours. To watch you struggle fills him with a rage that he forces deep within himself, fully aware anger isn’t the answer no matter how great his desire to protect you is. So, he cups your face in his hands, your skin warm beneath his fingers as he strokes your flushed cheeks and presses your foreheads together.

Focus on him, he tells you, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and his voice while he whispers words of love and encouragement. He never tires of letting you know how beautiful and strong you are, that he’s always here for you and loves you—all of you. You unravel in his arms, opening your heart up to him, and he listens intently, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips the moment you look uncertain. You’re not a burden he promises, hoping one day you’ll believe it yourself, but he’ll remind you every chance he gets; forever if he must. It’s worth it in the end, when you relax against him and smile, kissing him in return. Slowly, the anxiety leaves your body, Satan thankful that the waves of panic have receded enough to let you rest your weary mind. He remains next to you, pulling you down to lay your head on his chest and closing your hand in his, entwining your fingers. He’s content here with you, watching you fall asleep and chasing away the nightmares.

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus loves shopping, but he loves shopping with you most of all. The day is bright with you by his side, and he can’t help but buy you clothes and matching accessories to bring out your inherent charm. Your potential is endless, and he gushes over how gorgeous you are, unable to contain his excitement when your cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink in return. He can hardly control himself around you, gaze fixated on your every movement and heart racing each time you flash him one of the sweetest smiles he’s ever seen; your very soul seeming to shine through and blind him. Nothing prepares him for the love he feels for you, but he considers it a welcome surprise, his desire to grow closer to you intensifying day after day. You captivate him, the Avatar of Lust of all demons. What an exciting turn of events!

Of course, he attracts attention wherever he goes, posing for pictures with adoring fans and basking in the compliments constantly thrown his way; nothing new, but he enjoys it, nonetheless. Who can resist the allure of his very presence? However, anger wells within him at the sight of you being shoved to the side, falling to the ground and lost to the crowd that has gathered. Their words of flattery fall on deaf ears as he rushes to you, throwing a heated glance at the lowly demon who dares to touch his darling human. He desires nothing more than to punish them for such an injustice, but the fear in your eyes tells him otherwise. By the time he scoops you up into his arms you’re trembling from head to toe, and he can feel your heart pounding against him. A part of him places the blame on himself, an unfamiliar feeling, but he chooses to ignore it for now, focusing on getting you home in your worsening state.

In the peace and quiet of his room, he sits you on the bed, wrapping you in his arms as he affectionately runs his fingers through your hair. He can tell you’re upset—in an absolute state of panic by the looks of it—and all he can do is hold you through it, quietly asking what you need and willing to answer your every beck and call if it means that adorable smile graces your features once more. For a moment he considers seeking out Lucifer, worried something has gone terribly wrong, but thankfully you find your voice, mumbling into his chest about anxiety and panic attacks, that you’ll be fine—eventually—and are sorry for ruining your date. He doesn’t understand completely, though he knows you need him, promising to stay by your side for as long as you want. Kissing your cheek, he assures you there’s no need to apologize to him, your safety more important than anything else; the demon who laid his hands on you won’t go without punishment either.

Admitting a bath helps calm you down, he prepares one for you, steam rising from the surface and the heady scent of roses filling the air. Together you slip into the water, enveloped by its warmth, and he hums in contentment as you lean into him, his arms coming to rest around your waist. He watches you carefully, making sure you’re able to relax and preparing himself in case you call on him; he’ll do anything for you if it brings you the happiness you deserve. Your eyes flutter close, Asmodeus showering you with delicate kisses, comforted by the fact your breathing has levelled out and you appear a lot calmer than before. The day didn’t go as planned, and he hopes to make it up to you, vowing that no one else will hurt you on his watch. He loves himself. He loves his brothers. But loves you most of all.

BEELZEBUB

Beelzebub notices you haven’t touched your dinner and is beyond happy the moment you offer your plate to him. Yet he can’t bring himself to enjoy the food in front of him while you excuse yourself from the table, eyes downcast and voice quiet, the usual smile gone from your face and leaving behind an emptiness that rivals his own hunger. His mouth waters at the thought of seconds, but his concern for you grows, and he decides to follow you without question, disregarding the ravenous growl of his stomach. He catches you in the hallway, calling out your name. You turn to him, his brow furrowing in unease at the sight of your tears and the slight tremble of your lip. It hurts him to see you in obvious distress, and he earnestly offers his support.

The only sound is that of your sobbing. He desperately wishes to hold you tightly and rid you of your pain. However, he falters, studying you. Your gaze is trained on the floor, shoulders stiff with tension, and the color drains from your cheeks. When you speak, he’s surprised by how helpless you sound and the fact you’re trying to reassure him, putting his needs above your own although you’re struggling to hold yourself together. Fear flickers across your features at the echo of the brothers’ voices travelling up the stairs, and he mumbles out an apology as he carefully lifts you into his arms, cradling you to his chest.

Before the others can round the corner, he hurries down the hall and slips into your room, determined to protect his vulnerable human. He notices you relax against him, your fingers curling into his shirt, and he can’t help but want to keep you close, relieved after you lean in closer to wrap your arms around his neck. Stroking your hair, he allows you to cry, his patience and love for you endless. Eventually, you mutter an embarrassed sorry, thanking him profusely, but he’s merely relieved you’re beginning to feel a bit better, reassuring you that you can always depend on him.

Listening to you intently, he never breaks eye contact. You open up to him about your anxiety, his stomach twisting as you describe what you call a panic attack and how it wrecks you both mentally and physically. Beelzebub knows he has a lot to learn, but he expresses interest in understanding anxiety and, most importantly, how he can help you, so you don’t suffer alone. For the rest of the night, he keeps you company and eases you through the remainder of your attack, giving you plenty of hugs and rubbing your back in soothing circles until you no longer shake, and your heartbeat returns to its usual pace.

BELPHEGOR

Belphegor enjoys the time you spend together, especially when the two of you are alone. He asks you to accompany him in the attic, and it’s not long before he curls around you, falling into a peaceful sleep as he listens to the steady beat of your heart. However, when he awakes it’s to the sound of your soft cries in the dark, which fill him with a fear he can’t seem to shake. Without hesitation he’s at your side, sitting up to softly place a hand on your shoulder and ask you what’s wrong. The sadness in your eyes as you glance up at him, tears staining your cheeks, tugs at his heartstrings. He can’t bear to see you upset.

Once he realizes you’re having a panic attack, he’s attentive to your needs, cradling you in his arms as you cry into his chest. You confided in him about your struggles with anxiety after you fell to pieces in front of him months ago. A part of him understands, the loss of Lilith haunting him throughout the years and instilling a similar feeling of unease within him, especially when his nightmares seem to blur the line between reality and the painful memories of his past. You always came to his rescue and now it’s his turn to comfort you in your time of need. Sleep can wait.

With you in his embrace, he brings you down to relax against the pillows, pulling the blanket around your shivering form. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he gently brushes the remaining tears from your face, whispering words of love and reassurance. He listens to you when you’re comfortable to talk, the slight tremble of your voice causing him to draw you closer and press a kiss to your forehead. Belphegor tells you he’s here for you—forever—and although he’s still learning about anxiety and finding the best ways to comfort you during an attack, he wants you to depend on him no matter what. Even if that means you wake him up in the middle of the night. He won’t rest until he knows you’re okay, and you’re peacefully sleeping in his arms.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc #obey me reader #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #my writing

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ayamturd · 4 years ago

Text

end│dreamwastaken

summary: dream was once your everything that you would do anything for; what happens when you finally confront the reality of his manipulation and sadistic destruction?

prompt: “we’re both at fault here, and now we both have to pay the price.”

warnings: descriptive manipulation, a single curse word, angst

pairing: in-game c!dream

a/n: this is my entry for @sleepysoupi‘s 1.8k event! it goes without saying how late i am considering she’s currently working on her 2.0k event, but still a huge congratulatory to her amazing success and obvious, well deserved recognition <33 we love soupi in this household, nothing less of the fact *^*

also i know the prison doesn’t work exactly like how i wrote it, but let’s pretend for the sake of this fic

wc: (1.6k) - m.list

“Don’t do this, y/n.”

The air was sticky and heavy. As the lava bubbled behind you, it felt as if the heat could reach out and smother you entirely; the subtle warmth that felt insufferably suffocating in the tight space was a large contrast to the dark, opaque walls.

Although you stood in front of him by your own desire, habits quickly fell to place as he stood proudly above you. Chin raised, Dream’s shoulders were relaxed while he spoke to you. His words were firm, and with clenched fists, you swallowed harshly from his mocking tone.

You could practically hear his condescending grin without looking in how belittling he addressed you, and you hated how familiar the speech was.

“After all I’ve done for you, and you want to throw it all away?”

Despite all attempts, you unconsciously bowed your head down. Whether in unjustified guilt or the internal rage from his lies, you couldn’t say yourself. He noticed nonetheless, and played into your vulnerability further.

He was the one defenseless in this scenario, yet he held all the power in the small cage between the two of you.

“We made promises! ‘Till the very end, right?!” He began to raise his voice and feigned some form of heartbreak, taking a step dangerously closer to you while you stood there in frozen fear.

Staring harshly down at your feet, the weight of gravity pulled at your tears as they trickled down sparsely. This was different than when you originally confronted him mere hours ago. Here, you were alone and with no backing, no one to reassure you that you did the right thing. That he was a monster that had you blinded for so long.

That you were justified for betraying Dream.

“Don’t play stupid with me now. You can’t act like I did this all alone. That I’m not the only sick fuck in the room who enjoys the-”

“Stop it,” you whispered with closed eyes. While your voice was small, it echoed so loudly and threw Dream off guard. He shook his head and with a dark chuckle, sneered disparagingly.

“You really th-”

Your eyes opened as you unexpectedly interrupted him.

“No. For once in my life, I mean it. Shut your egotistical mouth for one goddamn second.”

Everything was in a frozen stand still as you snapped.

Course tears ran steadily down your cheeks, yet your eyes held more strength than Dream could had ever perceived in that moment. It had been so long since you had lost your voice. Lost your confidence, your fire that drew him in in the first place. It had been so long since you felt like yourself again, the person you once were before he teared you down completely to his mercy.

You swallowed sternly in exposed anxiety; when was the last time you saw his face like this? Saw his face at all, at that.

The molten lava radiated the room, it being the main source of light in contrast to the faint glow of the lanterns built into the walls. When you had originally requested to see him one final time before he was officially locked away for good, you had no idea what you expected to see. You didn’t see anything, actually, since you couldn’t bring yourself to try and meet his eye line the entire time.

Until now.

As the magma shaded the room in a warm shine, his dull eyes gleamed a faded hue of ash green. His dirty blond hair was visible without his signature hoodie, his previous clothes stripped away and replaced with an attired uniform instead. He hid behind a mask for so long, it was surreal to see him as something so mundane and human.

Your mouth felt so dry from seeing him again. He almost looked like when you first laid eyes on him, that beautiful day when you thought you had fallen in love. How nice the sun felt, and how crisp the wind blew. The summer day was fresh and the sweet smell of honey pervaded the air. To think it was by mere chance he approached you in the white flower field, hidden in the depths of the forest with a charming smile and gentle hand.

How cruel reality liked to play with you and give you false hope that such love could truly exist.

The memory brought a smoldering rage that made your heart race in return. Back straight, you dared a step towards him with a quiet, yet firm declaration.

“I’m done making excuses for your lies. For your actions, for the hurt you cause, for you.”

Dream could barely register your words as you continued in growing fury. It was like the floodgates were open and you felt free to speak your truth.

You were riding this new found wave and would hold nothing back anymore.

“I let you get away with so much because I truly believed that I loved you. That my love could fix you, or change what you are.”

You stepped forward again, your finger shakily pointed at him. His mouth opened to respond but you spoke before he could try. You weren’t going to give him anything, you thought, he doesn’t deserve your silence.

“I went against everything I believed!” you suddenly yelled, “everything I stood for, everything I thought because of you!”

Your vision was a blur as your raw emotions came loose. You screamed from the top of your lungs to the point where your voice cracked with a head lifted high.

“I let people get hurt! People I love and care for because I prioritized you over everything I had!”

Another step forward, your voice shook with quivered lips as a result of an ached and long scorned heart.

“To think I used to be so proud to say it, to say you were my everything and my world.” With a trembled exhale, you gathered yourself before finishing your thought. “Maybe I am stupid, but trust me when I say my ignorance was your freedom and my considered love a blind devotion.”

Dream’s face softened considerably, for he was at a loss for words and didn’t have anything to probe at anymore. It was his turn to suffer in a lost acceptance.

“I…”

Shaking your head, you scoffed with your head tilted in disbelief. Smiling darkly, you knew then and there you regained the power of the room and your self-assurance over him. How the turn tables.

“Funny how things change when you have no where to run. When you’re the one helpless and reliant.”

Standing strong with your arms crossed, you stared at him with such distaste. Dream’s brows furrowed with a clench jaw as he stepped even closer to you. He was now mere inches away and glared down at you from his given height. Even then, you wouldn’t back down any longer.

“I do love you, y/n. Everything I did, I did for us. You can’t leave me like this.” He gazed down with such intensity that your past you would have wanted to say something just to appease him entirely; you weren’t that person anymore, and you wouldn’t let him drag you down more than he already has.

Dropping yours arms before stepping back, you messaged Sam without wavering your eye contact from him.

“We’re both at fault here, and now we both have to pay the price of it alone.”

The sounded mechanics from outside the box indicated the lava dropping, signifying the end of your visit. Dream grew agitated at the thought of you leaving and dropped his eyes down in resent, a huge contrast to your relaxed and calm state.

You moved backwards until your back threatened to be burned by the heat.

“Here’s to loosing all those attachments you mentioned.”

Dream’s head snapped up from your words, but before he could attempt anything further, the Netherite divider rose and separated you both. The lava parted as you approached the platform, Sam visible from across the entrapping moat. He watched closely in regard to your safety and anything Dream might try with your back currently turned.

Approaching the stone platform once deemed safe, you turned to face him a final time as the contraption slowly pulled you away. Your chin was raised, and your tears were dry in satisfaction to your found closure.

“You were right,” you affirmed, “we did make promises, and this is our end.”

Bonus:

Tommy had been tormenting Dream for the past few minutes or so, his obnoxious taunts a sign of recovery from all the trauma he had dealt with from his young age. He hid behind his humor, but was strong when confronting his abuser with no uncertainty then.

“Who do you miss the most?”

Dream paused from fiddling with the leather of the book covers from the simple question. His hand began to curl around the thick material, and he drowned out Tommy’s rambling from behind him.

A familiar scent filled his senses, an old and precious memory uncovered from the oppressed depths of his mind. He pulled the book in hand open to a random, but intentional page, his callous fingers tracing over the stained ink.

He wasn’t an artist, and it easily would have been passed for messy, nonsense doodles, yet the drawing practically burned the paper as a reminder of his failed objectives.

The innocent azure bluets insulted him despite being his own creation.

Dream was done playing into Tommy’s confidence, and spoke lowly as his head turned further away from the boy.

“… I think you should go, Tommy."

#dream smp x reader #dream smp x you #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x you #dream x reader #dream x you #dream x gn!reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #dreamwastaken x gn!reader #dreamwastaken imagine #dsmp x reader #sleepysoupi 1.8k writing event

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itsdanii · 4 years ago

Note

hii i just read all of your masterlist and i loved it kdjzjsj. Could i request a scenario where Asahi has been working long hours and never gets to see his wife. And his wife is secretly pregnant :o so they get into a scrabble and all is revealed but happy ending coz i cant do sad ending ny heart might shatter

Baby Daddy

hey, bub. thank you so much for requesting! here's an asahi angst to fluff with a pregnant wife. i hope you like it ❤️ stay healthy and hydrated!

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: mentions of nausea, mentions of monthly period, suggestive content

ft. asahi azumane

reminder 1: lashing out on your wife is not a good practice, especially if you're unaware that the said wife is carrying your child inside her womb

reminder 2: never slam the door shut on your wife

With shaky hands, you stared at the pregnancy test you were holding. Tears of happiness were streaming down your cheeks as you took in the two lines signifying that you are indeed pregnant.

You've been feeling nauseous these past few weeks and the moment you noticed that you skipped your monthly period, you immediately bought a pregnancy test to confirm your suspicions.

And so, there you are, now holding the positive test as you let the feeling of hope and happiness embrace your being. You smiled and reached down to place your free hand on your nonprominent baby bump. Sure, it was too small to be noticeable yet but the fact that you knew that there's a life forming inside you made you happier than you could've ever expected.

"Hi, baby. I know you can't hear mommy yet, but I want you to know that she already loves you very much," you whispered while rubbing small circles on your skin.

Once you finally calmed yourself down from the exciting news, you took a shower and put on some presentable clothes, the red silk of the dress you're wearing shaping your body perfectly.

You stared at yourself on the mirror and smiled in satisfaction. Despite how the dress accentuated your curves, it wasn't too tight to suffocate your lower belly. You put on some light make up and kissed your wedding ring as you finished.

The next thing you did was proceed to the kitchen to prepare some fancy dinner for both you and your husband, giving the table a finishing touch with a bottle of wine for Asahi.

You glanced at the clock and noticed that it was already 9 in the evening yet your husband was still out. You decided to send him a message but only frowned when you received no reply. Sighing, you instinctively placed your hand on your lower belly as you felt a sudden distress.

What if he didn't want the baby?

What if he leaves you?

What if he realizes that he no longer loves you?

What if-

The sound of door opening interrupted you from your thoughts and you immediately stood up to welcome your husband.

Lately, Asahi had been coming home late, always overworking himself to the point of exhaustion. To be honest, you were seriously starting to get worried but everytime you tried to confront him, he would only grunt at you and head to sleep.

You made your way to Asahi and helped him with the stuff that he was carrying, making sure that you only took the light stuff in your arms. "Welcome home, love," you said affectionately and pressed a lingering kiss on his lips.

Unlike the usual, Asahi didn't wrap his arm around your waist nor buried his face on the crook of your neck. You frowned at the lack of affection but decided to let it pass.

"What's the occasion?" he asked, finally taking notice of the food you prepared. The smell of steak was still lingering in the air and despite how it slightly made you feel lightheaded, you held it in knowing how much Asahi loved it everytime you cook steak.

"Nothing," you said as you placed some of his stuff down. "I just wanted to make you some nice dinner since we haven't been spending that much time lately."

Instead of answering, he only sighed and flashed you an apologetic smile. He made his way to his seat and waited for you before eating.

Silence enveloped the two of you and you can't help but feel your palms starting to get sweaty. The way he seemed to rush his food made you feel as if he was only eating as to not offend you. As you were about to speak, he downed his glass of wine in one go before standing up.

"I'm finished. I'll go ahead to bed, okay?" your husband said as he placed a kiss on top of your head, the sweet gesture doing nothing to soothe the negative feeling bubbling inside you.

You stood up and wrapped your arms around him from the back, hands gripping each other to lock him to your embrace. "Love, I missed you," you murmured against his back.

"Y/n, I don't have time for this. I'm tired, okay?" Asahi tried to uncoil your arms around him and groaned when you won't let him.

"Don't want to let go yet. I know that if I do, you'll go to bed again and when I wake up, you'll be gone. Can't I have even just a little bit of your time?" Your voice almost cracked at the end as the toll of his absences finally made its way to you.

He applied a little force to remove your arms before turning around to face you, a deep scowl now present on his face as he stared down at you. "Time? You want time? I'm sorry if I don't give you enough. Unlike you who just stay at home and do nothing, I have work. I have priorities so I'm sorry if you think that I'm not giving you enough attention. Geez, y/n. I'm your husband, not your damn babysitter."

"You call yourself a husband when you can't even prioritize your own wife?" you spat angrily at him.

You knew that you offended him by the way his jaw clenched yet you stood your ground because you knew that the problem wouldn't be resolved unless you confronted it head on.

"I wasn't aware that it's a wife's job to nag at her husband nonstop," he spat back. "Stop being childish and maybe then you'll do something productive and not just spending your time sitting pretty."

Asahi didn't let you speak and opted on turning his back on you. Within a few seconds, you were left alone as the door of your bedroom slammed shut.

You felt your blood run cold as you stared at the door in front of you. "I'm sorry," you whispered, not to yourself nor to your husband but to your baby.

Quietly, you began to clean up the table and wash the dishes. You groaned as you felt an upcoming headache starting to form, no doubt due to the stress you're currently experiencing.

You dried your hands and turned off the lights before making your way to the guest room. Your husband basically slammed the door on you which means that he didn't want you to disturb him, right? So if it's space that he wants, it's space that he'll get.

You curled yourself against the bed, the empty space beside you making you feel lonely. You were used to sleeping beside Asahi. Despite him always coming home late, you never missed the feel of him pressing apologetic kisses on your skin.

It wasn't long until a sob escaped your lips. Your fingers gripped the pillow beside you tightly as you burried your face against the soft cotton, silently wishing that it was your husband you're embracing instead of the white material.

Unbeknownst to you, Asahi was just as distressed as you were.

He couldn't stop himself from tossing and turning as he anxiously waited for you to open the door and fit yourself in his arms. He didn't mean to slam the door at you. He only applied a bit of force not knowing that the impact would be that much.

God, he didn't even want to fight you.

But the feeling of stress and exhaustion from his work along with the expectations of people made him irritable which then resulted to him snapping at you.

Not being able to resist you anymore, Asahi swallowed his pride and made his way to the bathroom to splash his face with cold water to wake himself up before he talks to you.

But he guessed that the cold water was no longer needed.

Because there sitting on top of the toilet seat are two pregnancy tests with both positive results. He carefully picked up one of the tests and stared at it with shock evident on his face.

You're pregnant.

You're carrying his unborn child and he just shouted at you, called you childish and disregarded your feelings.

Instant regret made its way to him and he felt his heart rate picking up. "Shit," Asahi whispered to himself as he paced left and right inside the bathroom, hands gripping the pregnancy tests tightly.

Asahi quickly made his way to the living room, eyes widening in fear upon seeing you nowhere. He surveryed the whole house while calling out for your name and only stopped when he saw your curled up form inside one of the guest rooms.

He sighed in relief and made his way to you, gently scooping you in his arms to carry you back to your shared bedroom. He removed the few stray hair from your face and placed a small kiss on your forehead and both of your swollen eyes, obviously the result of crying.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered as he showered your skin with kisses.

"Azumane," you called out with a raspy voice as you woke up from the light feeling of lips trailing on your skin.

Your husband stopped what he was doing and looked at you. "You're pregnant." It wasn't a question, no. It was a statement, one that was enough to bring tears into your eyes.

"I am," you said with a nod and took his hand, placing it on the spot where your bump will soon make its appearance.

Despite being cover by the dress you're wearing, he leaned down and kissed your lower belly lovingly. Pulling away, Asahi shifted himself to lay beside you, his hand reaching for yours to bring it to his lips.

"Im so sorry for what happened earlier," he whispered. He took your lack of response as a signal to continue speaking, one hand sliding around your waist to pull you closer to him.

"Im sorry for shouting at you and for neglecting my job as a husband. I was too focused on proving myself to my co-workers that I forgot the person waiting for me at home." He let go of your hand and wiped your tears with his thumb, his hand cupping your face as you leaned to his touch. "Please don't cry, my love. You know I hate seeing you cry."

"It's your fault," you mumbled with a shaky voice. "It's just... It's so unfair that I'm your wife but I still have to ask for your time and attention when in reality, you should be the one to give those to me without me asking."

"I know. I know, love." Guilt and regret were evident in his voice and the more Asahi watch you let everything out, the more he hated himself for being a bad husband. "But I promise you it won't happen again. I'll be a better husband and the best father to our child. So please..."

You nodded and buried your face to his chest, his scent helping you calm down as you cried everything out. Your hand gripped the back of his shirt tightly as you sobbed in his arms, warmth enveloping you as he rubbed your back soothingly.

"You're okay, we're okay," Asahi whispered, pressing a kiss on top of your head as he held you without any intent of letting you go. "We're okay, right?"

You looked up at him with tear stained cheeks. "We're okay," you said reassuringly.

After a few minutes of enjoying each other's embrace, Asahi slowly pulled away. A whine escaped your lips making him chuckle slightly.

"You dressed up for me?" he asked as he raked his eyes down your figure.

"I wanted to look good for you," you said shyly. "I haven't got the chance to change since you basically slammed the door on me."

"I already apologized with words." Asahi gave your lips a peck before settling himself between your legs, eyes looking up at you as he slowly hiked your dress up, a gasp escaping your lips as his fingertips grazed your thighs.

"Now let me apologize with my actions."

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ❤️

question: do you prefer the plain divider or this pink one?

#haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #hq imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu comfort #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #hq angst #azumane asahi #hq asahi #asahi angst #asahi fluff #asahi x reader #hq scenarios

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hollandsmushroom · 3 years ago

Text

Locker Room Fun

I wrote this because I sent Avi the concept when I hadn’t written it and she said write it or I am a tease. So here you go, blame Avi!

AU: Boxer!Tom Holland x Reader

Request/Chat with Me

Word Count: 845

Warnings: Smut, dry humping, blood, injuries to the face.

Your knees were on either side of him, the cool ridged aluminium of the locker room bench digging into your sensitive flesh, grinding against your kneecaps as the skin pulled taut around them. The metal caused slight pain but your focus was currently on the blood that was dripping down Tom’s split brow, his eye already slightly purplish right above his striking orbital bone. It wasn’t an uncommon position for the both of you to be in, he always preferred having you clean him up after a fight rather than a medic, especially if you were working on his face, you always sat right on his lap and let his tired hand rest on your waist. You had been doing it for so long that at this point you were just about as knowledgeable as any of the medics.

“He did a number on you” you muttered, dabbing at the blood that had already began to crust onto his eyebrow, tugging at the hairs causing him to wince and jerk, his hips driving up into yours, his clothed cock brushing against your wet core, watching him fight always made you horny, it was something animalistic, awakening the instinct that evolution had laid dormant for so long.

“Fuck, love, that hurt” you weren’t paying attention to what he was saying, more focused on the fact that the feeling of his crotch on yours was still burning through you, your eyes clamped shut and lip trapped between your teeth as you tried to suppress a moan. “Love?” Tom’s brow furrowed, though it caused him great pain, wincing once again and wiggling underneath you, only making your predicament worse, a soft moan passing your lips at the much desired friction. Tom’s eyes widened at the noise, a smirk spreading on his busted lip.

“Thought you were crying, love” Tom drawls, fingers squeezing your hip tightly, pulling you down onto his now semi hard cock. “But you were just needy” his voice was soft, edging you on to make yourself comfortable on his cock, your clothed cores connecting drawing a grunt from both of you.

“So needy for you, Tom” you mumbled, eyelids fluttering but remaining shut in pleasure as he slowly began to move against you, his short’s covered cock parting your folds and letting your glide against it.

“Need you too love, always need you” Tom mumbled, leaning in and placing a kiss to your lips, but you cringed back, pilling away making his eyes shoot open, still all movements at your sudden rejection but you quickly soothed him.

“Your lip, Tommy” you reached out, placing a thumb beneath the injury.

“Don’t care about my lip, need you” he grunted, once again pulling you forward and grinding up into you, your panties catching on your clit eliciting a moan from you but the noise was silenced, captured by Tom’s eager mouth as he united his lips with yours, trailing his tongue across your closed mouth signaling you to open, and you did. Unhinging your jaw you let Tom in, let his tongue trace the depths of your mouth as he pushes and pulls you along his cock.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good, even through clothes, so warm and comforting for my hard cock. Do I make you feel good too?” he knew the answer, he just wanted to hear you say, to hear the pitiful utterance of desperation fall from your lips, how much you loved his cock. Pulling away from your lips he started kissing his way down your neck, sucking over the pulse that beat harshly underneath your skin, begging to be bitten as his teeth smarted over the sensitive area.

“So good, T-tom, you make me feel so good” you whimpered all the stimulation mounting as one of his hands moved to grab your tits, tweaking your nipple through your shirt and bra, the other hand staying on your hip.

You could tell by the way Tom was biting his lip that he was close but holding back, not wanting to cum without you falling off the edge with him. That little moment of consideration, of the prioritization of your pleasure over his even after he had spent his night being punched made you weak, the coil of your orgasm building in your spine.

“Tommy, I-I’m gonna cum” you cried, your fingers tugging at his hair mindlessly as he bit down on your pulse, both of you falling together as whimpers and grunts escaped both of your mouths. When you had ridden out your highs together his hand gripped your hip, stilling your movements.

“That was so good baby” he mumbled, kissing you tenderly and assisting you to stand from your position on his lap, a cringe taking over his face at his cum filled boxer, the spunk cooling unpleasantly against his skin.

“Fuck, Love, think you’re gonna need to clean me up again” He mumbled, looking down at his crotch, his words made you laugh and grab his hand.

“At home, I promise” you kissed his bruised knuckles softly and sent him a sly wink.

@spydeysense

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland one shot #tom holland au #tom holland imagine #boxer!tom #boxer!tom holland x reader #boxer tom holland

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suganovakawa · 4 years ago

Note

do you happen to take requests? if so, may i- hcs abt playing and simping on genshin impact with kenma, kuroo, oikawa and bokuto-? you can lessen the cast if you want^^ thank you for the time! i love your blog 💖

GENSHIN IMPACT HERE I COME

genshin impact frenzy!

— kenma, kuroo, oikawa, and bokuto play genshin impact with you!

gen masterlist

taglist ( open! ) —

a/n — this game has taken literally so much of my time, it was only meant to be that i fulfill this request—also bokuto’s has minor spoilers to venti’s story quest! it’s pretty vague but it’s still there

kenma kozume.

✧｡ this guy can take on literally everyone with just the standard team

✧｡ and he does—he sees no point in wishing for people when he’s already got a decent team given to him for free

✧｡ you’ve literally fought with him so many times because he forgets that wishing is a thing and finds it strange that you are willing to spend your life savings on a single five star character

✧｡ he will only wish on the standard banner, since that’s where you can get constellations for the standard team

✧｡ somehow he’s collected so many constellations for kaeya and amber, it’s unreal

✧｡ you’ve debated on sending a complaint to mihoyo because kenma can’t send any of his primogems to you

✧｡ he’s currently AR 50 and still has the beginner’s banner untouched aside from noelle

✧｡ “kenma, would it kill you to wish on a banner once? just one ten wish summon. one time.”

✧｡ “but i already have my team up to level 90, why should i put in the effort to grind for anything else?”

✧｡ “because the other characters look nice?”

✧｡ “okay, and?”

✧｡ there’s no winning against him

✧｡ you ain’t ever catching him simp

✧｡ you almost caught him eyeing kaeya’s new idle animation but to no avail </3

✧｡ timeskip kenma streams on twitch, where even some of his viewers are completely distraught that he never wishes on the banners

✧｡ on multiple occasions he’s held events where he gives you money for primogems, and just streams you wishing for the characters instead of him

✧｡ he’d never admit it out loud, but his heart flutters when he sees the excited look on your face as you pull a five star character

tetsurou kuroo.

✧｡ for shits and giggles he probably decided to choose lumine instead of aether

✧｡ when he realized that he liked aether’s design more than hers, he just stopped using her entirely

✧｡ if he hadn’t gotten all the way to AR 30 before this realization, he probably would’ve started over with a new account just to choose aether instead

✧｡ he doesn’t play this game religiously, but he is far from a f2p guy

✧｡ will shamelessly simp with you if he deems the character simp worthy—if not he’ll just watch you simp and then simp over his own characters

✧｡ he almost lost his mind over albedo and had a heart attack when he ended up pulling a weapon instead

✧｡ don’t even get me started when he laid eyes on ganyu

✧｡ if you can’t get a five star character you want, he’ll purposely spend money so that he gets them before you and rub it in your face

✧｡ that’s what he did for zhongli

✧｡ “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GOT ZHONGLI?”

✧｡ “i mean, he’s right here. look! isn’t he so sexy? he would be a great addition to my team. you enjoy having jean though! i’ve heard she’s a great healer.”

✧｡ “tetsurou, i am going to murder you.”

✧｡ “no you won’t.”

✧｡ “i won’t. i just won’t help you with domains anymore.”

✧｡ “okay okay wait this can be discussed—”

✧｡ he hates grinding and will continuously hold if off until he physically can’t defeat any of the ascension material bosses

✧｡ however, he completes ascension quests the moment he can—it’s just his luck that he has to deal with the consequences when he has to deal with mobs with his severely under leveled team

✧｡ both of you raced to get to AR 40 first, and you won since you were actually smart enough to level up your characters long before he did

✧｡ you two like completing domains together rather than doing it online or alone

✧｡ genshin is more of a leisure pastime for kuroo, but he finds himself playing it more and more with each passing day

tooru oikawa.

✧｡ surprisingly? he’s much better at genshin than what you were originally expecting

✧｡ it’s probably because he has enough patience to grind for all of the materials SDJKFJKSDF

✧｡ but because he prioritizes volleyball a lot more, he’s only at AR 36 while you’re on your way to AR 47

✧｡ he takes it upon himself to compare himself to childe, and you just have to go with it because tooru will not take no for an answer

✧｡ just to spite you he goes around saying “hey girlie” every now and then

✧｡ he’ll come up behind you quietly and whisper in your ear, causing you to jump at the sound of his voice

✧｡ “hey girlie, hold still.”

✧｡ “TOORU COULD YOU NOT—”

✧｡ “c’mon, you know you you like it.”

✧｡ “maybe if you dressed up into childe’s foul legacy transformation, i would be persuaded.”

✧｡ “SAY NO MORE”

✧｡ simps for both mona and diluc lowk

✧｡ i just know he purposely chooses the suggestive and flirty choices every chance he gets

✧｡ he had a field day with ying’er (that perfume lady idk)

✧｡ he hates spiral abyss with every fiber of his being and refuses to do anything more after he got xiangling

✧｡ he likes flaunting his five stars to random people he plays with in domains just for the fun of it

✧｡ his favorites to flaunt are childe and xiao (he was originally wanting ganyu but her banner expired before he could pull her so he just wasted the rest of his pity and got xiao instead)

✧｡ idk why but i get the sense that he’s eagerly waiting for an announcement that scaramouche will be a playable character

✧｡ he will give you money for genshin if you ask nicely

✧｡ if you ask nicely and you give him something in return

✧｡ but all in all, he does genuinely enjoy the game

koutarou bokuto.

✧｡ kou will either forget to play it for months or you’ll have to pry it from his hands after being locked away in his room for at least a week

✧｡ his favorite five star to use would probably be klee, just because of all the explosions she sets off

✧｡ definitely simps for ningguang and albedo, but will see to it that he proves himself better than any of the guys you simp for

✧｡ he loves using fischl so that he can use oz

✧｡ he doesn’t take the game very seriously but still manages to reach AR 40, even though he has no idea how builds work

✧｡ he has no desire to learn either, he’s just enjoying himself and exploring the world

✧｡ he gets carried away with exploring the world that he found both all of the anemoculus and the geoculus before AR 40

✧｡ goes into emo mode when he doesn’t pull the character he wants

✧｡ the story quests make him sad when he does them, especially venti’s

✧｡ he regretted not having venti after he finished that story quest and just watched the story with venti and his old friend over and over again to mourn

✧｡ and he checks up on stanley every time he sees him anywhere, usually in front of mondstadt at night

✧｡ “i promise you that i will never leave you or let any harm come to you, y/n”

✧｡ “kou, that’s sweet of you—”

✧｡ “i mean it! i would rather die than put you in harm’s way”

✧｡ you have to comfort him repeatedly and eventually gets over it

✧｡ but now he’s saving up for venti’s rerun and has not been deterred or tempted for anyone else, mans is almost at 10k primogems for this guy

✧｡ mihoyo pls give bokuto a venti rerun

✧｡ it’s safe to say that venti slowly becomes bokuto’s favorite character

✧｡ you should watch out before kou becomes too emotionally attached to every character

212 notes · View notes

shoichee · 4 years ago

Note

hiii tysm for keeping this fandom alive... i was wondering if i could request hugging hcs for Moriyama, Kasamatsu, and Hayakawa? like what kind of hugs do they give, when, etc.?

BANGER REQUEST THIS IS SUCH A UNIQUE ONE I LOVE THIS THANK YOU ANON.... i hope you’re still around :^)

[Headcanons]

Moriyama Yoshitaka

this guy is literally the definition of touch-starved LOL

once he finds his special someone, they’re gonna need to prepare themselves for TONS of verbal affection… even if they don’t get his convoluted words half the time

that being said, he wouldn’t be awkward with hugs, but it’s his misinterpretations and poor executions of the hugs that make things awkward

in his MIND, he THINKS he’s being mega suave and totally seducing you with his mannerisms, and you’re just here like, “umm… you know you can just… ask for a hug if you wanted one.”

“According to my research though, it’s better to approach this more poetically in order to be seen in a more profound light with the person you like.”

“Huh? Are you actually trusting the internet more than me about what I want—”

“Sorry, sorry, here,” he would mumble in defeat and immediately bring you to nestle your head against his chest

this type of interaction would be very frequent in the early stages of your shared relationship, where Moriyama would try to salvage his poor social skills by hugging you against body, and him putting his hand to cradle your head while the other is around your waist

of course, even if you were exasperated with him, you can’t help but eventually hug him back and snuggle closer

canon: he’d have unique scents on him every once in a while, because he’s someone to use scented deodorant sprays (like citrus, in the Replace novel)

he’d actually be unintentionally charismatic with his actions? like, if he doesn’t open his mouth and wordlessly hugs you, his body just knows how to accommodate you:

sad? happy? clingy? affectionate? lazy? when he sees your current mood, he just somehow knows what type of hugs to give you…

he thinks the internet advice is working, but in reality, he’s just inherently very in-tuned with people’s emotions; for example, he’s one of the few people who can see straight through Kasamatsu and his inner struggles, and he’s always the first person to suggest roundabout ways to make him relax

so because of this, sometimes he’d make the most confusing statements and random trivias he found from his “research” just to try to look for an opportunity to sneak up and glomp on you “tactfully” (never works, and you end up sighing that *sigh* before letting yourself be open on purpose for Moriyama to sneak in with a hug)

this dude is the type of guy who’d find every opportunity to hug you in front of his teammates to subtly show off how “experienced” he was in dating LOL and then he’d probably say something like, “If you follow the signs I told you guys about, you’ll all be able to have cute dates too, you know…” all while giving that little comical pout and index finger point at them… maybe flipping his bang to the side with that finger too…

but again, he’s touch-starved, so deep inside, he really, REALLY likes hugging you and wants to touch you every moment he gets

whenever he hugs you, he’s at his most “normal,” where he drops the whole “fate, elements, advice” talk and just has normal conversations and genuine muses… although a random corny line might slip out of habit

he hugs you before school, during school, after school, but rarely during practice or games or anything like that… which is surprisingly odd

he’ll hug you in front of his teammates during school no problem, but if it’s right before a practice or a game, he usually doesn’t, mostly because he’s usually very concentrated on the upcoming challenge… and not to mention, he’s a 3rd-year, so he does want to set a good example for the underclassmen in prioritizing the team first

he has no problem scouting for your face on the stands before a game starts though, and of course, he’d pester his team about how cute you looked in the stands

once games end, if you allowed him, he’d usually jog straight to you and would try to give you a quick hug before he’d go back to his teammates to the lockers

Kasamatsu Yukio

touch-starved guy #2, but is also afraid of physical contact

not because he doesn’t like it, but the concept of someone hugging him or him hugging someone for ROMANTIC reasons is so foreign

it’s the fact that he knows he’ll get super sweaty, clammy, and stiff and he KNOWS he’d focus on everything but also on nothing, and at that point he’ll just shut down—

so touch-starved that when he gets a hug from you, he’d be hyper-fixated on EVERYTHING about you and where you’re touching, and his brain would just overload

so the result is the same old Yukio being frozen and stammery and red

in other words, YOU have to initiate the hugs

whenever you hug him, he’s gonna first flinch and then respond by stiffly holding his arms out to support your weight against his body… and then after a few seconds of contact, he would awkwardly pat his two hands on your back in this loose hug he’s doing LOL

all while being red, of course

but how much he hugs depends on how much you go up to him for hugs; as much as he grumbles and stammers and lamely complains, he’d never reject any of your hugs, even with the hesitant reciprocation

if you two are alone, he’s much quicker to hug you back… if you hug him in public or in front of his teammates, he’s more likely to be frozen stiff and slower to pat your arms in a shy hug

however, the times when Kasamatsu would be at his lowest and most emotional are when Kasamatsu initiates the hugs first, often out of nowhere with fierce, tight holds while nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck/top of your shoulder

once he reveals his most vulnerable side like this to you in hugging you, it’d be huge milestone in which he would be more inclined to initiate physical contact without being in a flustered state

all in all, give the poor captain some time… eventually when you’ll reach a certain part of your relationship (see bullet points above), he’ll be comfortable enough to hug you without being a mess

so when he finally gets to this point, he will always ask you for consent (or at least give you a heads up) before he hugs you or physically touches you with, “May I…?” or “Do you mind…?”

and most of the time, or near always, you’d reply, “Of course, Yukio.”

“Th-That’s good…”

he’s still a reserved individual with a captain’s duty to uphold, so he’s not going to be handsy on his end in front of people; he’d literally DIE of embarrassment

expect “loose” hugs from him, he’s not gonna smush your face into his chest or give those extremely tight hugs, generally speaking

so what should you expect from his hugs? assuming that you hugged him first, his hands will always pat your back or rub soothing patterns of circles and swirls, almost in an unconscious effort to try to show you that he does love these hugs from you, even if it’s hard for him to show and express that sometimes

or if he has those shy moments, he’d try to half-heartedly pry you off in a grumbling fluster, but after grasping your arms around his waist, he’d immediately give in and just rub those familiar patterns on your upper arms while trying to convince you to wait until you’re alone with him to do these things

if he senses some sketchy people nearby or if you’re in a crowd full of strangers, expect a hand around your shoulder as he ushers you slightly closer to his side with a serious glint in his eyes, analyzing your surroundings (again, this will only happen once your relationship reaches at a later stage)

it’s only when the “danger” passes by and with his hand still on you that he realizes what he did and starts getting embarrassed again

key phrase with the Kaijō captain is: “There’s a time and place for everything.”

Hayakawa Mitsuhiro

touch-starved guy #3, but he’s not afraid to pounce on you for the hugs

ever since he miraculously got into a relationship with you (according to his teammates, anyways), slapping his own cheeks to get himself in the mood for rebounding wasn’t as appealing anymore

not when he has you to hug and accidentally squeeze the life out of you

“Oh!! A(l)e you he(l)e to chee(l) me on, (y/n)-san?!”

“M-Mitsu… I can’t… breathe—”

“O-Oh! So(l)(l)y…! I [will learn] to be mo(l)e ca(l)efu(r) next time!”

“Mitsuhiro, please don’t worry about me! Go back to your teammates… they’re waiting for you. Good luck on the game, okay?”

Hayakawa treats hugging like he does with basketball, putting 100% of his effort and enthusiasm into it… and oftentimes, his hugs can be too… explosive? they can be quite abrupt and intense

his energy alone would normally scare away everyone—hell, a lot of times, his teammates can’t tolerate it… so everyone always wonders how you never seem bothered by his tendencies

but to you, his bear hugs make you feel very, very secure and loved, since he never has qualms about hugging in public because he’s always focused on you or the courts

initially though, his hugs definitely crushed your figure into smithereens, mostly because he’s never had to keep his strength in check

and he’s never had anything close to an intimate relationship, so he’d probably need a lot of time and positive encouragement/advice for him to learn how to be more delicate (or rather, tactful) when initiating hugs

he’s SO earnest that he’d totally treat your words/encouragement as a serious lesson and would try to “practice” hugging and ask:

“Is this okay, (y/n)-san?!”

if you’re not around, he’d totally hug his teammates out of nowhere and definitely receive a few punches or kicks out of retaliation

“WHAT THE HELL?”

“I am p(l)acticing [how to] hug, Kasamatsu-senpai!”

“Don’t do that! People will get the wrong idea!!”

“Why? Don’t we a(r)ways p(l)actice togethe(l) as a team, captain?!”

“That’s completely different!!”

he has no tact, so whenever he sees you, expect a fierce hug as a greeting every time… unless you tell him that you’re not a fan of the constant hugging or want to save it for private moments, he’s gonna keep doing it

just as your hugs hype him up for anything upcoming, when you hug him a certain way, they also have a calming effect on this excitable boy too

Kasamatsu literally reveres you because you’re the only one who can keep him in check

it’s when you do your calming hugs (that gentle squeeze around his torso as you slowly nuzzle against him) that his heartbeat slightly slows down and his breath exhales out steadily to let out the pent-up steam

those types of hugs from your end would allow you to see a “less-energetic” side of him, where his voice might still be loud, but at least it’s still relatively indoor voice

still, a lot of his sentences are either incomprehensible mumbles or butchered exclaims, no in-between

“Sometimes, it’s good for your body and mind to stop and relax, y’know?”

“I-Is that so…! You a(l)e very knowled[geable] about these things! I [think] that is ve(l)y coo(r)…”

“You say that, but you’re one of the best offensive rebound players in the nation. That’s so much cooler, Mitsuhiro.”

“If I was coo(r) (r)ike you say, I wonde(l) why peop(r)e (l)un away [when I try] to ta(r)k? Mo(l)iyama-senpai says [it is because] I ‘have no cha(l)m’… I must wo(l)k ha(l)der [if that is the case]!”

“Well, I think your attitude and energy can be very refreshing. Everytime I see you, I can’t help but be motivated to work hard and accomplish like you do.”

“I am ve(l)y touched, (y/n)-san…!”

all in all, he will hug you every chance he gets (except when Kasamatsu roundhouse kicks him to curb him) and accepts all hugs from you (while being red and a little shy, but still enthusiastic)

prepare your waist/torso to be constantly crushed embraced, because that’s where his arms will always be around

#knb #kuroko no basket #knb x reader #kasamatsu yukio #kasamatsu x reader #kasamatsu yukio x reader #moriyama yoshitaka #moriyama x reader #moriyama yoshitaka x reader #hayakawa mitsuhiro #hayakawa x reader #hayakawa mitsuhiro x reader #kaijo #kaijo team #kaijo x reader #knb headcanons #knb headcanon #knb fic #knb fics

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softrozene · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t Do It Again

Anonymous said: Heyy! Just found your blog and I love your writing 💕 Could I request a one shot with law and how he would react to his partner getting seriously injured?

Thank you Lovely and sorry for the long wait! I hope you enjoy it!

Trafalgar Law x Reader (Gender-Neutral/Non-Binary)

Warnings: Slightly angsty feelings, fluff, law is moody, near-death experience, mhm grammar maybe- I am t i r e d (We are going to ignore that I do not possess medical knowledge though I did try lmao) We are also trying a new format so I don’t have to screenshot the requests I get. I hope this makes it look neater!

Words: 1467

Law did not like this. You and Penguin were supposed to be here by now. He, Bepo, and Sachi have been waiting for ages and they have to go back to the submarine soon with or without you guys. Time is of the essence for this brief mission and Law needs to see it done. How else is supposed to gather the Marines attention?

“Cap- Still nothing from the baby transponder,” Sachi states.

Bepo even looks concerned. Whenever you and Penguin went out on missions, the general concern was of course that you would be messing around and up causing grief for him but the both of you always got your tasks doe and never late. He does not want to feel concerned but something in him nearly snaps as the time gets closer to leave.

Finally, he sees two figures in the distance headed their way to the small shack they were currently hiding in. As they get closer, the need to feel concerned turns real. Penguin is holding you up and you look to be on the verge of passing out.

Upon closer inspection he sees your side drenched in blood. It makes him nearly shout until he remembers they are being cautious for a reason.

As soon as Penguin is near enough, Law uses his devil fruit powers to transport both of you in front of them. Penguin already knowing the drill has you up as straight as you can manage, so Law can see the damage.

He moves your shirt and upon seeing the damage- He wants to wince for you. Two gunshot wounds. One went clean through your side while the other not so much. He needs to go in and get the bullet fragments and from seeing how much blood you are losing- It hit something vital as it is deep within your hip.

“Cap-“ Penguin starts.

Law interrupts, “You can tell me what happened after I fix them up. Did you get to do your part of the plan?”

He hates how he has to prioritize that, but it is needed. Penguin nods his head and says, “Yeah. We got our part done.”

That is all he needed to hear. They can leave now. Law hurries and transports everyone to the submarine just below the shack in the ocean. Everyone knows the drill. Bepo and Sachi leave to prep one of the rooms for surgery. Penguin (who probably feels awful that you are injured) stays beside you and Law for any emergency instructions.

The scent of metal begins to overwhelm Law, especially since it is your blood you are losing. God- He knows he needs to stay logical, but it is you. His partner. That and you are starting to show symptoms of hypovolemic shock.

You are doing everything you can to stay awake- Blinking wildly, chewing on your lips, you are confused and appear to be dizzy from how much you move your head. The biggest give away is how clammy your skin is. He loathes it.

Why were you in harm’s way?

“Cap- The room is ready!” Sachi states.

Law takes you from Penguin and rushes to the surgery room. He has never realized how cold this room was until you became his patient. You are still trying to find a focus point but every now and then your eyes close for a few seconds too long.

Though it appears you do not recognize where you are, but you recognize him.

“Law?” You call out.

He nods his head and his knuckles brush against your cheek. “You can rest now (Name). You are in my care,” He says loud enough and slow enough for you to process.

Law then nods at Bepo, who ever-so-gently puts an oxygen mask on your face. Within moments you are officially knocked out and in the care of your loving partner.

For Law, the surgery was the worst for him- You kept losing too much blood- It was so difficult to find where the bullet had hit and what damage it had caused but once he got an idea, he patched you up. He did not get to finish the surgery since he had to focus on making you stop bleeding.

You gave him a scare when there was no sign of it. He was so thankful when a blood transfusion actually helped you and the bleeding eventually stopped. He would have to worry about getting the fragmented bullet out another time.

In the meantime, you were put on strict bed rest after the operation. All you did was sleep (and Law was happy about that because it meant you were getting rest) but it did not stop him from worrying. It did not stop his crew from seeing the worry he tried to hide. He knows it is unprofessional, so he bottles it up. He will unleash his feelings when you are officially in the clear. His crew is on edge because of how snappish he becomes. It stems all from the worry he has for you. Soon- He will clear you for the next operation and once it has passed, it goes as smoothly as he expected. The bullet is officially out of you but now it is all on you for recovery.

The moment you are coherent is the moment that Law gets even more serious. He is beyond strict from how terrible your injury was- From how you almost bled out on the surgery table. He wants you to return to your energetic form, the one that nearly annoys him when you act out with his crew but that he loves severely.

It is a deeply rooted fear for the worst that makes him bitter as he cares for you. Bitter as in short words, short check-ups, and disapproving looks (for what? You have no idea, but he does give the same looks to the others). The others are just in shock. They have never seen him this strict (towards you). They on the other hand are rather used to these kinds of moods when someone gets hurt. They just never thought you would get the severity of it too.

This goes on for two weeks until you are able to walk freely and without trouble. When this happens, you confront your partner- Not with the same bitterness, no. You confront with open ears and a tender voice already knowing where this fear he has been hiding is coming from.

“Babe, we good?” You ask pretty casually if you don’t say so yourself.

Law glances up from his book and with tired eyes just stares at you. He knows this is about to be a cringe talk. With a big sigh, he places his book on his desk as he nods his head.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Are you sure? That was not a verbal affirmation. Look- I know Penguin did not tell you everything. It was my fault that we got ambushed. Yes, we took care of them rather quickly, so we did not blow our cover in that base- But that is no excuse. I should have double-checked to make sure the area was clear before I gave the okay to plant the mysterious evidence that was needed there. I should have been careful,” You say sincerely.

Law just stares at you. No words- That has to be the most nerving thing this man can do. You actually prefer it if he got angry, but he does not.

He stands up slowly and makes his way to you. With hesitation, the man pulls you into an awkward (for you) hug. His body is shaking just a tad bit and you kind of expected it to do so. You expected him to get emotional but not want to verbally say it.

“Don’t do it again.”

You let out a breathy chuckle as you return the embrace.

“Would you be just a tad more precise?” You ask softly.

He grumbles, “Don’t do it again. Do not dare get hurt like that again- It was a serious injury. I… I can’t lose you.”

He can’t say anything else. You can hear him gulp- Probably trying to stop his throat from drying out for the need to cry. You exhale softly and start to rub his back in soothing circles. He does not give more emotion other than the hum to show he appreciates it.

With final words to try and ease his fear you say, “I promise I will not do it again. You are stuck with me forever.”

He leans his head against your shoulder, and you feel his famous smirk form into the crook of your neck. With a victorious smile forming on your face you technically ruin the moment.

“So we are good babe?”

#my writing #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #one piece #fanfiction #one shot #one piece fanfiction #one piece oneshot #fluff #angst #gender neutral reader #nonbinary reader #x reader #one piece law

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generous1ty · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Can I request the #31 angst prompt with Hajime and with she or they prounouns? I'm a sucker for angst lol <D

hihi!

aaaasgsjdkkd i am also a sucker for angst and love producing it-- and you chose Hajime so this is going to hurt. :)

update on the Prompt Event: sadly, i couldn’t get all the requests done today(i was busy getting the house ready to move). but, i’ll be slowly working on them until they’re done! apologies to anyone sending requests, as i’m currently prioritizing prompt requests right now.

thank you for requesting! lots of love. </3

✑ ✑ ✑ ✑ ✑ ✑ ✑ ✑ ✑ ✑

Bullet to the Heart

Angst Prompt 31 with Hajime!

link to the prompt list!

genre: comfort angst warnings: swearing, yelling, affair/cheating accusations, just angst in general </3 word count: 1.5k

◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇

the house you stayed in felt more like a “living space” than a “home”.

Hajime Hinata was partially the reason why things were so different; late nights out, drinking with friends, the silent treatments, the cold shoulders... but even so, you could hardly complain-- avoiding any contact with him, leaving packaged foods you cooked on the table, locking yourself in a different room than the one you both slept in.

it was so different from when you both first moved into the house.

you could reminisce about the times when you were both deeply in love-- trying so desperately to make things work, even though the odds were against you both. you could remember his smile, the way he’d longingly stare at you and reach for your hand, whispering in your ear,

“we will make a future for ourselves.”

oh, how you wished those words still played now.

currently, you and your partner were at the dining table, eating in silence. it had been days since you had last talked-- you don’t even remember the last conversation you had.

despite how rough things were, he had still decided to come home early. it was definitely a good thing, right? improvement in your relationship, a sign that he wanted things to get better, right?

Hajime’s pale-green eyes had looked at you, his hardened stare softening at just the sight of you. he had missed you, but was going through things all wrong-- he knew that. he knew that yet his actions still continued-

why was he doing this? he’d often ask himself that. was he looking for excitement? adrenaline? the rush he had felt back in college? he had settled down with you, but things just never felt right anymore.

his frown was apparent-- not that you noticed-- and he had swallowed his food to speak, “i... decided to come home earlier today.”

god damn it, Hajime.

his act of communication had startled you, but your gaze did not meet his, “yeah...”

talking to him seemed hard now. although you longed for his touch, his voice, the loving stare he’d give you even if you were doing nothing, you couldn’t even manage talking to him-- something you’ve wanted to do for so long.

“....i’ve been stalling at work, lately. i’m currently picking up coding to manage online affairs,” he continued, trying to ease the unnecessary tension and get a conversation going.

you peeked up at him, finally looking him in the eyes, “coding..?” you had managed to push out, “isn’t it complicated?”

you had given a soft chuckle, something he missed hearing. his mouth perked up into a small smile, happy to contribute to the discussion.

“it is,” he admitted, feeling comfortable to complain and expose a weaker side to you that he hadn’t been able to do in a long, long time, “it makes my head pound most of the time.”

ah, his smile. it had widened as he talked, and made your heart flutter uncontrollably. yes, this was it. this was what you needed. a heart-to-heart, a simple talk.

the smile that had made its way on to your face had subtly died down, sighing, “...what went wrong? why are we like this now, Hajime?”

your focus had been on your hands, gently cupping the empty plate in front of you. what had gone wrong? what in the world happened that you felt the need to isolate yourself from him? ignore him? avoid him? why did you feel like this interaction would be the only conversation you’d have with him until the routine started over again?

“i... don’t know,” his voice had interrupted your thoughts, painfully reminding you that you had initiated this conversation. whatever happened next was your fault, “but, why don’t you know? you’ve been contributing to this-- this stupid charade ever since it started!”

your eyes squinted, brows furrowing, “what-- what the hell, Hajime?! if you hadn’t started drinking with your coworkers or going out at night without me knowing, maybe i’d feel more comfortable around you!”

you just raised you voice at him-- you just raised your voice at him. you hadn’t done that before.

your heart beat loudly in your chest, hands trembling as your vision started to blur. what? what? was this your fault?

“you never even came to check up on me, where else am i supposed to go?!” he raised his voice, throat burning from the friction.

he never once though that he needed to-- not around you, at least. why was he yelling? why did he feel hurt?

“fuck, [Y/n]! how do you expect me to talk to you when you’re never there for me?!” he stood up, the chair behind him screeching against the marble floor, “i obviously needed to go somewhere else, right?”

you grit your teeth, letting out a shaky breath, “how is this my fault?! if you had just talked to me then maybe things would have been alright-- but now we’re in deep shit because your actions-- not mine!”

Hajime made a sharp inhale, his heart practically jumping out of his chest. him? this wasn’t because of him, was it? his actions, things he did-- it couldn’t have been just him, it was-

“if i’m so unbearable and uncomfortable, maybe you should just go to your mistress-- fuck her until 2am, why don’t you?” your voice trembled with your hands, standing from your seat and leaving the kitchen.

the room, you needed to go to the room. you promised yourself you’d bring that up when you both were better. you promised that you’d talk about it in full detail once you and Hajime had fixed things. not now. not now.

“what--” Hajime’s eyes had peered at your back-- and you could feel it.

was he glaring at you? angry that you had found out about him and his affair? was he balling his fists in anger, waiting to blame it on you as well?

“you heard me,” you growled, “if i’m so hard to deal with, just move out an-and live with the woman you’ve been so intimate with every fucking weekend!” you couldn’t help the stutter in your voice, your breathing so erratic that it hurt your chest.

you couldn’t stop the tears that dropped down your cheeks-- almost as much as when you found the shirt with someone’s perfume and smudged lipstick on the collar.

it hurt. it hurt knowing the man you moved in with to start something amazing had suddenly found something amazing with someone else-- behind your back, at that.

"look me in the eyes and repeat what you just said." his voice rumbled, your eyes that avoided his gaze had finally looked at your lover, eyes shut as if he were thinking, “go on, i’ll listen.”

“the woman you’ve been sleeping with,” you repeated, “just go live with her since i’m so despicable.” you muffled the sob that threatened to spill out, stuck on the stairs because of this conversation.

as he opened his eyes and started to walk towards you, your heart had dropped.

was he going to pack his things? was he finally leaving? you were so surprised he dealt with you for so long-- so if what you were thinking of was really what he was going to do, you couldn’t help but agree.

but instead, his arms wrapped around you; tight, loving, longingly. he was upset, you could feel it in his embrace. but, he still loved you. despite your harmful words, your accusations, he was holding you as if you were leaving-- not him.

he let out a shaky breath, “i don’t have a mistress.”

“but-”

“that night, this woman from my company tried to hit on me-- she was really close to me that night and tried to initiate something by kissing my neck. we didn’t do anything, i stopped her before she could touch me anywhere else,” he sounded so sure, his hold on you tightening, “i promise this is the truth-- so please... if i don’t leave, please don’t go.”

you both had fallen on to the floor beneath you, arms around each other, thankful for the other’s embrace.

you had never felt such anxiety-- such shock before that night, and you never wanted to experience it again. you were apologetic for avoiding him, accusing him, belittling him. you had never once thought of listening to him or greeting him to see what was wrong. you had been wallowing in your own self-pity that it was embarrassing, but he felt the same.

it was heartbreaking you’d accuse him of something that shallow, but he couldn’t blame you. he was wrong for not talking to you and taking another way out, simply going out to drink and letting the alcohol carry his worries away. he was sorry for going out and coming home late, leaving without notice, drowning himself in self-pity as well.

you both weren’t perfect, that was a fact. you were both human, imperfections that still needed to grow and make decisions. those decisions will be hard, and it’ll feel as if you’d be backed away into a corner.

but at least you wouldn’t do it alone anymore.

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2996-sana · 4 years ago

Text

Lucky - Jisoo

request: Please can you write some fluff/angst where Jisoo finds out her girlfriend used to have a bp stan account and had Chaeyoung as her bias so Jisoo gets jealous/insecure and starts acting differently? Thank you!!!

i kinda went another way but it still has the same gist, really ! only that the reader didn’t have a stan account hehe

p.s. i have received the requests for rosé and jennie but i will be doing a lisa request first since i haven’t put one out for her yet but i am still accepting requests atm

You would like to consider yourself lucky. You were currently in a very happy and healthy relationship with someone who you share an effortlessly rock-solid bond with. Someone who appreciated you for you and prioritized you over everything else. Your friends would always point out how smitten you both were but you never did pay it no mind – they could only wish to have a love as resilient and fun.

Oh yeah, and the person in question? Kim Jisoo. One of Korea’s most sought-after idols.

No big deal. Adding the fact that you were a fan before getting into a relationship with her, you would say lucky is an understatement.

If it wasn’t for your close friendship with Soojoo (who is one of Jisoo’s best friends in the industry) and your persistence to be introduced to the girls of Blackpink, you wouldn’t be where you are today. It took the right timing and the decision to come over at Soojoo’s apartment, only to find out she already had a certain guest over, for fate to lay a hand. Though your constant flirting also definitely helped create a permanent spot for you on Jisoo’s mind.

It wasn’t everyday someone had the guts to flirt with her and usually when someone did, she never had any trouble turning them down. She had bigger and better things to focus on: her career and her Blinks. She had no time for silly relationships at her young age, especially since they were at their peak, but there was something about you that kept her coming back.

That was over a year ago and the relationship that you both have built still leaves everybody in awe. You give majority of the credit to Jisoo who knew exactly how to handle you. She dealt with everything with a maturity you could only wish to have. Although you’d like to think it was already rubbing off on you. Something that your parents will forever be grateful to Jisoo for.

Your girlfriend carried with her a very laid back and goofy disposition. You’ve always admired how calm she was during times when you’d expect the exact opposite and loved her ability to bring comfort to those who weren’t, especially to her own members. Even her fans noticed how caring and protective she became when needed. You always chalked it up to her being the eldest in the group and feeling the need to be the one stable thread that kept everyone together. She was always the strong one when everything seemed to be falling apart.

But this also meant not a lot of people get to see Jisoo the way you do. Because with you, she allows herself to completely break down the walls she surrounds herself with when she’s at work. Gone is the Kim Jisoo of the biggest girl group in the world. All you were left with was Jisoo – your girlfriend.

The first time you saw Jisoo cry was a turning point in your relationship.

You and Jisoo were lounging on your couch on one of her few days off. Both of you were directing your attention to the documentary playing on the TV when you all of a sudden hear sniffles coming from your right. You immediately face the girl you have been seeing for a few months and see her fixing her gaze on her lap whilst she played with her fingers. Her eyes glazed with a glassy layer of tears. As she blinked, they dripped from her eyelids and slid down her cheeks. She bit her lip tightly in attempt to hide any sound that wanted to escape from her mouth

“Jisoo?” you hesitated. At this point, your mind was going wild with the probable reasons why she was suddenly upset. Your brain cogs turning trying to remember if you did anything wrong or maybe she was going to break things off. Of course, she was too busy and didn’t have time for a relationship. Why did you even think this would work out?

“Y/N…” Jisoo’s eyes moved slower and always more down-cast, skimming the floor, rarely raising to eye level as more tears started to fall. It was in her voice too, quieter, with a meekness that wasn't usually part of her speech patter. This was very unlike the Jisoo you were used to. She was sad in a way you hadn't seen before. She brought her hand to intertwine yours together, taking a deep breathe to calm herself.

“Talk to me,” you whispered. “You never have to be afraid to open up to me.”

It was this that made Jisoo’s tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down her face. The muscles of her chin trembled like a small child and it took everything in you not to start crying too. It was not the time.

“I’m just tired,” she mumbled. “There’s been a lot of stress about the album process being delayed again and everyone is just so drained.” she leaned backwards, letting her head fall on the back of the couch and closing her eyes. “I’m so tired.” she emphasized, wiping her tears. You let her cry for a few more minutes waiting until she calms down as you put your arms around her shoulder.

“I will never understand firsthand what that feels like as an artist to go through that but I want you and the girls to know that so many people believe in you,” you consoled. “This is what you guys have been waiting for and you deserve it and more. The process was never gonna be easy but I know that you all love what you do and it will all be worth it because of that and your fans.”

She let out a shaky sigh before turning to face you. She studied your face silently for a second before giving you a small smile. “Thank you. I honestly went to see you tonight because I didn’t wanna be upset in front of the girls. Not right now when they’re all feeling really down too.”

She leaned forward to wrap her arms around you in a hug. “You’re my safe place.”

Before you, Jisoo didn’t think she could ever find a soul, aside from her members, that would ever understand the things that brought her pain.

To be the one Jisoo was able to turn to during her toughest moments was a badge of honor you would gladly wear everyday for the rest of your life.

Right now, you joined the Blackpink girls in their dorm chatting over some chicken and soju. You were all on your fourth bottle and you could sense how tipsy Rosé was becoming, but you knew Jennie and Lisa weren’t too far off either.

“I think its so funny how Y/N was annoying Soojoo to introduce her to us and now she’s practically married to Jisoo unnie,” Jennie giggled, raising the shot glass to her mouth.

Both Rosé and Lisa apparently thought this was the funniest thing ever because they laughed their little hearts silly.

“Oh my god!” Rosé squealed. “I was your bias remember?”

You hid your face on your hands as you shook your head, “Jesus, you’re super drunk.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact I was your bias!” Rosé laughed, putting her head on your shoulder.

“Yah, unnie, look!” Lisa slapped Jisoo’s shoulders, staring at her wildly. “Rosé is trying to steal your girl.” she pointed towards the both of you.

Jisoo only raised an eyebrow towards you before giving Lisa a smile but you knew Jisoo well enough now to differentiate a real smile from a fake one and that did not look genuine at all. Before you could scoot over to your girlfriend, Jennie decided to dig your hole a little deeper.

“I never knew that before Y/N. Why Rosie?” Jennie glared. “Why not me?”

“Yeah! Tell us!” Rosé exclaimed clapping her hands.

And that started a round of chants asking you to tell them the reason.

“Just tell them, babe.” you hear your girlfriend say. You look at her searching for signs not to but she only nodded in encouragement. You knew she was only doing so to appease her wasted members.

“I…I don’t know,” you stammered, looking at everyone. “She just caught my attention, I guess. That was way before I knew you guys though and what you were like. Everything is different now.”

“Well duh, you’re like in love with Jisoo unnie now,” Rosé drunkenly whispered.

You smiled at her words pulling Jisoo closer to you, “That I am.”

•

It was around 3AM when you and Jisoo arrived at your apartment after putting the drunk girls to bed. You and Jisoo decided to spend the night together since it had been weeks since you saw each other. You’ve noticed how quiet Jisoo had been after the whole Rosé being your bias thing and you couldn’t help but worry and wonder why. You’ve caught her in moments of reflection for the rest of the night before remembering where she was and trying to act normal.

You were in bed when you find her uncharacteristically quiet and staring up at the ceiling.

“I know you’re not okay,” you deadpanned, laying on your side to face her. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s stupid,” she sighed as the words slowly made its way out of her mouth.

“You know I would never invalidate your feelings, right?” you questioned, reaching up to caress her cheek.

“Why me?” she said quietly. “I always asked myself that when we first started dating. Whenever Soojoo mentioned you, she would always talk about your obsession with Chaeyoung and we’d both laugh about it. When I first met you and you started showing interest, I thought you were only using me to get closer to Chaeyoung.” she laughed but you could sense no humor behind it.

You wanted to interject and tell her how wrong she was but you sensed she had more to say.

“So, I put you in arm’s length because of that. I didn’t think you had the best intentions towards me. It was okay at first until I really started to get attached to you too and I thought ‘great, I like someone who is probably into Chaeyoung’. Chaeyoung was your type and I couldn’t be more different from her. I was so confused and didn’t know what your deal was. I started to get really scared when I realized you had to meet the girls.” she recounted. “I was scared that you’d start to like her for real and that she was what you were after all along. I felt lost and confused, but at the same time happy and certain that I really wanted things with you to work out.”

She turned to face you for the first time since she started talking, “I was wrong. You had the most genuine intentions towards me and you proved that time and time again. I guess that tonight, that irrational fear just crawled back to me like a shadow of what I used to feel and that freaked me out.”

After that, you slipped off the blankets and got on top of her, grabbing her face and bringing it closer to yours. “You are the best thing to ever happen to me, Kim Jisoo. I fucking mean that, you know that, right? The moment we met, we clicked, you know that. You were all I could think about the moment I step foot out of Soojoo’s apartment. The only reason Rosie was my bias was because I didn’t know any better. I literally knew jack shit about you guys but the more I got to know you, the more I knew I wanted to be with you. It was never about Blackpink, it was about me getting to know another human being that I adored and respected.”

You were looking down at her probably looking at her like the sun came out of her ass but Jisoo wasn’t complaining. “You curse a lot, you know?” she giggled.

You rolled your eyes, “I come up with that great speech and you choose to talk about a couple curses.”

She leaned up and pressed your lips together.

“You’ve never failed to make me feel that, Y/N. Thank you for putting up with me when I get bouts of insecurity and doubt.” she smiled. “You know I’ll do the same for you too.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna be doing that a lot more for me because you guys are only going up from here,” you pouted. “I’ll have more people to compete with especially with your new drama coming. Your male lead better watch out, whoever he is.” you scoffed.

“There’s no competition in the first place,” she flicked your forehead. “And if there was, it would be a no brainer to know who would win.”

You smirked from above her, “Sure win?”

She crinkled her nose at how corny you were but gave you the biggest smile nonetheless, “You know it, babe.”

#blackpink #blackpink imagine #blackpink scenarios #jisoo x reader #jisoo imagine

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bittykimmy13 · 4 years ago

Text

The Candescent King (GT Story)

Premise: Sequel to "The Clandestine Queen". Andres returns to the hotel and is forced to confront the reality of Lorelei's life as a trinket.

Hi, I am now fully obsessed with Andres and Lorelei and I would die for them.

Warnings: dehumanization and threat of sexual assault

The print / trinket universe belongs to me and the lovely @little-miss-maggie / @marydublin5 <3 Y’all have her to thank for the ending scene! The story almost ended much differently :’)

(( Read more about the print and trinket universe here! ))

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ *~ *

He had certain expectations when he returned to the Onyx Citadel Hotel for the fourth time in two years. It was nightfall when he arrived. The lobby was decorated tastefully in black-and-white to honor the winter tournament. He headed straight for his suite rather than stop and interact with the other arriving players. As expected, the staff had already dropped off his belongings in the room.

However, she was not there.

He had known this day would come eventually, so why was there an involuntary chill running down his spine when he thought of the most obvious answer for her absence?

Moving mechanically, he went for the door. He had to be certain.

The elevator ride down, his thoughts were an odd mix of racing and frozen. He wasn't upset, he assured himself. He had no reason to be. They had both known this day would come, so why did it bother him so much? He battled his confusion as he made his way through the lobby. In the center, he saw some familiar tournament players gathered around a chessboard loaded with trinkets. He averted his eyes, striding for the front desk.

"May I help you, sir?" asked the woman behind the counter.

"Where is the trinket?"

Her friendly smile wavered with confusion. "I'm sorry?"

He sighed. "I don't recognize you. My name is Andres Soto. I have competed in the last three semi-annual tournaments. The staff knows to place the trinket known as Queenie in my room along with my luggage. But she is not there."

"Oh! Aren't you the reigning champion?" When he didn't respond, she pursed her lips and frowned in thought. "Queenie... The orange-haired gal? I apologize, sir, but she isn't available."

The chill in his spine should have dissipated now that he had an answer. But it stayed locked in place. "I see."

"Shall I put in a request at the bar to have another trinket sent to your room, Mr. Soto?"

"No." Andres started to pull away, but he supposed he owed it to Lorelei to at least ask. "Tell me what happened to her. A careless guest?"

The woman blinked, then gave a startled laugh. "She's not dead, Mr. Soto! She's just occupied."

Relief and frustration mingled in his gut. "Occupied? Why wasn't she sent to my room?"

"I'm terribly sorry. There was a massive change in management and employment in the past couple of months. I suppose whoever was making your... trinket arrangements must not have passed on the instructions. I'll be sure to let the bar and restaurant know that Queenie will be prioritized to you once she's available."

"You're going to make me wait," he deadpanned rather than asked. You know I'm the champion, and you're denying my request? He clenched his jaw to keep the comment in. It would only cause problems. His tone and expression, however, worked wonders.

Her voice became even more placating as she pointed across the lobby. "If you'd like to see her, she should be right over there," she said.

Andres shoved himself away from the front desk without another word and approached the small group gathered around the center board that had been set up. Two players, three eager observers. Plenty of room for him to see. He walked up with his hands in his pockets, eyeing the board with a sneer. He had made it a point to never be in the vicinity of a game of trinket chess, and it looked precisely the way he had imagined.

It was the most trinkets he had ever seen gathered so close together. Thirty-two were on the table, each of them scantily clothed in colors that reflected their team and designated piece. Red pawns. Yellow rooks. Green knights. Blue bishops. Purple royalty.

In no time at all, his eyes zeroed in on Lorelei. She was the queen, naturally, wearing sheer black lingerie with purple accents.

And she spotted him, too. He suspected she would be smart and pretend not to recognize him, but to his surprise, she threw a minuscule hand over her head and waved it enthusiastically. Her stance was unsteady, a carefree grin plastered on her face.

Drunk.

"Hey!" she called. "Tall, dark, and scary! Hi! I had a dream about you the other night!"

Very drunk.

The players and the small audience followed her gaze with confusion. Their eyes widened when they realized who had come to observe them. He gave the faintest nod of acknowledgment, ignoring Lorelei's whoops for attention.

"Gentlemen," he murmured.

"Soto." Theo Jackson, the man playing black, did not bother hiding the irk on his face. Andres couldn't blame him; coming in 2nd place twice in a row did that to a person. "Thought you'd decide this little tournament was below your rating by now. What are you still doing, coming back here?"

Andres shrugged. "I like to win. But don't mind me. Carry on."

They settled back into the game. He tried to watch with a neutral expression, but at least any visible disgust on his face was to be expected from him. Lorelei was a mess, nearly stumbling into the neighboring square every time the board was jostled by the players' movements. The bishop beside her kept grabbing her arm to steady her.

The trinkets were plucked up and moved like pieces. Each one of them looked either frightened or entirely checked-out. But when they were captured by the opposing side and taken off the board, their relief was visible. That was, except for the pieces Jackson captured. His hands had a tendency to wander to his captured pieces while he thought of his next move.

Being the queen, Lorelei was likely to be in the game for the long haul. Andres thought about walking away. The front desk woman had promised the trinket would be delivered to him later, but something kept him rooted there. It was a strange stab of betrayal, having gotten to know her and now seeing her debase herself. It wasn't her fault, but he had the urge to correct obscenity nonetheless. Especially considering how hell-bent she seemed on getting herself killed.

"Psst." She turned around and waved both hands up at Jackson. "Listen! You've got an opening right there, and you don't see it, do you? You're blowing it. Move me to A4, c'mon!"

"Shut the fuck up." Jackson forcefully turned her back around and flicked her between the shoulder blades, sending her onto her hands and knees.

The bishop gasped and leaned down to check if she was alright.

"No, don't help her," Jackson snapped. The bishop straightened immediately. "Little bitch needs to learn her place."

Lorelei's shoulders wracked and she caught her breath. Andres was a live wire of tension, trying to talk himself down from lunging in and taking her away. The tension eased as she stood up and rolled her shoulders as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, the player on white looked remarkably nervous, staring at the board and obviously mapping out the plan Lorelei had offered.

Jackson went quiet, doing the same. Then he snorted, "Whaddaya know." He plucked up Lorelei and moved her to A6. The game was over in less than three moves after that.

Lorelei was the piece to catch the king in checkmate. She skipped over and looped her arm in his, raising her eyebrows at Jackson. "See? What did I tell you?"

"That's not right," the other player spat. "You had help!"

Jackson scoffed. "As if this was a real match. Besides, are you insinuating that a fucking trinket helped me? I was going to move her there anyway."

"Fuck you, I was about to have you cornered." The other player stood up and stormed off. He wouldn't last long in the tournament with a blatant temper like that.

"Who's next?" Jackson declared.

"I am," Andres said before anyone had time to take a breath.

He slid into the seat, glancing down as the pieces dutifully rearranged themselves where they belonged. Lorelei stumbled back to her spot and smiled right at him. At least she didn't wave or yell for him. He had seen her on a board plenty of times, facing him, but never like this. He could see the trinkets on his side casting wary glances up over their shoulders at him, trying to get a read on their current master. One split second of eye contact was all it took to make them face forward again.

Lorelei, in her idiotic state, turned to face Jackson and planted a hand on her hip. "I hope you're ready to get your ass whupped," she said.

His expression darkened, and Andres wouldn't have been surprised if she was broken in half right then and there. But Jackson slid a smirk to Andres. "Am I sensing some history here? Oh, Soto. You've always acted like some kind of moral paragon. No wonder you turn down every drink with a trinket. You've only got eyes for this little bite, huh?"

Andres regarded him coolly. "She was delivered to my room one night against my wishes and has plagued me ever since. Are we playing or not?"

"No one's stopping you from starting."

Sighing, Andres leaned forward and studied the untouched board. He knew Jackson's strategies well enough to put him away swiftly, but he would need a different approach this time. His hand automatically reached for the board, but he paused when he remembered these were not carved pieces of wood. Hiding a wince, he tapped one of the pawns on the back. The young man spun around and looked up, eyes wide under Andres' shadow.

"You, move to E4," Andres ordered.

The pawn swallowed hard. "I-I'm sorry, I-I don't know where—"

Gathering nonexistent patience, Andres tapped the board. "Move here. Two spaces forward."

The pawn hurried to obey, eyes trained down.

Despite his attempts to focus on the game itself, Andres couldn't help but wonder what each of the white pieces on his board had done to land their fate. Murderers, traitors, those who had no place in society. He glanced across the board at Lorelei, who was swaying to music that wasn't there. She perked up when they locked gazes, and he was almost saddened by the strange hope in her eyes. With her inhibitions decimated, it was all too clear how much she trusted him.

He glanced at the pieces on the board again and wondered, How many innocents?

His thoughts shattered when Jackson snatched up a pawn of his own without warning, seeming to savor the way the girl whimpered and squirmed in the tight pinch of his fingers.

"Settle down, darling," he crooned. "You're expendable. The game will be over for you soon." When he set her down on the board, she hugged her arms and trembled, tears streaking down her face.

Andres tore his eyes away from her. Nothing he could do.

He made foolish moves from then on, but they were perfectly calculated. His primary goal for once was not to win; he only wished to capture the queen. It was child's play to reach Lorelei, considering any player's strategy would focus on protecting the king. He ordered the pieces where to go, pointing and nudged if he needed to. When he captured Jackson's pieces, he made them walk to him rather than snatching them up.

Jackson smirked each time Andres refused to grab the trinkets, making a show of picking up his own pieces and taking an unreasonable amount of time to decide his move. He held them in his palm, toyed with him while deep in thought.

Finally, Andres captured Lorelei. He had to resist the urge to pluck her up. Jackson would undoubtedly notice the special treatment.

"Come over here," Andres said, beckoning her to move among the other pawns and the knight he had captured.

"Yessir." She pranced over to him, giving a clumsy twirl and making a rude gesture at Jackson so that only Andres could see it. She took a seat behind his side of the board, and he paid no mind to the triumphant smile she aimed up at him.

His next strategy was to make it a point to capture as many pieces as possible. Once he had a small crowd of black pieces on his side of the table, it was easy enough to discreetly drop a hand over Lorelei and sweep her away from the others. He moved her to his lap under the table. With people watching around him, slipping her into his pocket would be too noticeable. He let her go on his thigh, praying she wasn't foolishly drunk enough to fall off. He could feel her tiny weight, along with the slightest tremble. Not from fear, though—he had a feeling she was giggling to herself.

From then on, it was business as usual. He managed to corner Jackson and capture the king despite his seemingly sloppy plays at the beginning. With the queen gone, anyway, there was hardly a contest.

Huffing, Jackson glared at what remained of his chess pieces, as if they had anything to do with his loss. Then he turned that irked look to Andres. "You really shouldn't be here," Jackson said. "You know you're gonna clean up. Give someone else a chance, would you?"

"Maybe you should work on your strategies," Andres returned.

Before Jackson could snap back, someone from the group piped up, "Mr. Soto, can I play a round with you?"

He shook his head. "I'm going to my room to relax before the opening social." He cupped a hand around Lorelei so that she smoothly fell into his palm when he stood. He strode away, arm relaxed at his side, and his fist closely loosely.

He waited by the elevators until he could catch one alone. When the doors were sealed, he lifted his hand and unfurled his fingers enough to see her. Lorelei sat up and leaned back on her hands, a flirtatious smile on her lips that was entirely unlike her—at least when she was with him.

"Hello again," she slurred. "My hero."

"You're drunk," he said. "How disappointing. I was hoping we could play a few matches tonight." He shook his head, observing her unfocused eyes. "It would not be fair to you."

She waved a hand at him. "Ah, don't be so dramatic. I was on bar duty before the tournament players started arriving. I'm fine."

The elevator came to a stop. Lorelei scrambled to the edge of Andres' hand and vomited over the side. Some landed on his shoe. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smiled sheepishly at his unimpressed expression.

"My bad," she said. "I swear I wasn't aiming there."

Breathing out sharply, he exited the elevator and headed for his suite. He took her straight to the lounger by the coffee table, laying out a pillow and setting her down on it.

"Sleep it off, Señorita Lorelei. I have a social I must attend. Will you be fine in three hours?"

"Probably." She stretched her arms over her head and laid asprawl. "And for the thousandth time, call me Lore."

Despite the state she was in, he imagined she wouldn't stay drunk for long. Trinkets rose back to soberness much quicker than natural people. Andres wasn't sure if it was an automatic side effect of their size or an intentional feature of their engineering to ensure they couldn't soothe themselves with inebriation for too long.

He stepped into the bedroom to change his shoes. As he headed back for the door to leave, she waved her hand to get his attention.

"No blanket?" She pouted. "I'm cold, you monster."

He rolled his eyes. "Shall I tuck you in and sing you a lullaby, too? You are demanding tonight."

"That's what you get for treating me like a person, Señor Andres. Now I've got all these sick and dangerous thoughts in my head about wanting to be comfortable."

"Well, stop it."

"No, sir. They're my sick and dangerous thoughts, and you can't take them away. Besides, you owe me."

He dug through one of his bags beside the coffee table until he found a silk handkerchief. "I saved you," he pointed out.

"Out of the kindness of your heart? Please. You owe me because you're going to get me in trouble, making me magically vanish like that. In fact, I'm sure there is sheer chaos downstairs over a kidnapped queen. They'll think I'm a runner."

"I'll tell the front desk I collected you." He braced his hands on either side of the cushion and leaned over her. "Would you like to write a script for me? Should I say you are too enchanting to resist, and I needed you all to myself tonight?" He dropped the handkerchief over her.

She squirmed under the fabric until she found her way out—which took twice as long as it should have. "Perfect, couldn't have scripted it better myself. Try to sound like you mean it, though." He snorted and started to pull away. "Wait!" she said. "Speaking of saving me. Can I tell you about the dream I had about you? Very quick."

He sighed. "What?"

"I dreamed..." She lowered her voice to a whisper, forcing him to lean closer. "That you stole me away from here. And we played chess day and night. And you still never beat me. It was lovely."

He didn't know how to feel or what to say. She had never been like this. Never said anything like this. And the way she looked at him... Her little eyes bright and naive over the edge of his handkerchief. He did not enjoy this drunken version of Lorelei Weaver. Not in the slightest.

"Sleep it off," he murmured again. "I want you ready to play when I get back." Then he made his escape.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ *~ *

The moment she started to come to, her face flushed. She couldn't remember everything with clarity, but she remembered enough to be embarrassed. Groaning low in her throat, she sat up and used the corner of the handkerchief to wipe the dry crust from the corner of her lips. Maybe if Andres wasn't too disgusted with her, she could wheedle a drop of mouthwash from him.

Footsteps thudded toward the room. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It had been roughly three hours since she passed out. Straightening her back, she smoothed her hair down and folded her hands on her lap. Although her head was clear, it ached.

"Oh, good," she said when Andres stalked into the room. "I thought I had only hallucinated seeing your grumpy face. How bad was the social? Did they make you..." She shuddered dramatically. "Mingle?"

"Well, you clearly feel better." He approached the lounger and didn't bother kneeling for her sake. He never did. More of the looming type. "What did you think you were doing, getting drunk like that?"

A faint, scalding smile perked on her lips. "I was forced to. The guest I was lucky enough to get saddled with likes his trinkets good and giddy. Is that fair enough for you?"

"Fair enough." His expression didn't change, other than something at the back of his eyes that was too far away to see. "It's good that you're fine now. They want to see you downstairs at the bar to make sure you have not escaped." His hand dove for her.

"Wait!" she cried. He paused, frowning. "I've had enough today. I'm not in the mood to be manhandled any more. Can't you... lay your hand down or something?"

"Why?"

"Easier on my ribs and my ego, believe it or not." She pressed her lips into a tight line and glowered straight up at him. "Doesn't seem like too much to ask for you to lay your damn hand down."

Looking like a kid forced to eat his vegetables, he dropped his hand beside her. She climbed on, and he swept her up not a moment after she settled. She grabbed at his fingers to keep from tumbling off. Already she missed the safety of the handkerchief, but the warmth of his skin was a fair substitute.

They didn't speak as he took her downstairs to the bar, where a few players were sipping on drinks, laughing, cutting up. She adopted her usual pose on her knees, shoulders back, eyes down. From her glances, she recognized a few of the players—both from her days as a human and from her evening of being their queen piece in the lobby.

"Here she is," Andres said to the bartender. "Satisfied?" He thrust her out in his open palm.

The bartender lurched back, looking from Lorelei to Andres, stammering. "I'll get the manager. Would you like a drink while you wait, Mr. Soto?"

"No."

As the bartender walked off, the man seated closest scoffed. "Well, that's a damn shame."

Theo Jackson. Lorelei kept her head turned away as if there was any hope that he might not recognize her.

Apparently tired of holding her, Andres lowered her to the bar counter. She nearly asked him to pluck her right back up, ribs and ego or not. She couldn't help but look at Jackson, going cold at the lust in his eyes as he tipped back his drink and reached for the other that had been laid out for him.

"What shame?" Andres asked boredly. She wanted to scream at him for indulging Jackson.

Jackson pointed at her with the hand that held his scotch. "Pretty little thing like that, and you don't even have a drink to put her in. I knew you swiped her. Figured you'd at least be putting her to good use."

"Mr. Soto." A woman interrupted, approaching from the other side of the bar and putting her hand out to shake. Andres had to step to the side to reach her. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Now, about the trinket. An employee is retrieving a case. You are welcome to enjoy your regular trinket during your stay, but it's required that she remain in the case when you're not around—"

"Yes, yes, I know the rules."

Despite that, she went on. Lorelei edged closer to where Andres had moved, feeling exposed. A second after the dreadful sensation came over her, a hand shot across the bar and snatched her up. Jackson covered her scream before she could let it loose, bringing her further down the bar, further from Andres. He hushed her gently, pinning her to the counter and keeping her muzzled. His fingers were cold from the chilled glass.

"What's the trouble, darling?" His voice was much sweeter now that he wasn't playing chess. "Soto doesn't know how to treat you right. And you've got my attention. Isn't that wasn't you wanted, pulling that cool little move during my game?" He brushed a fingertip along her side, controlling her with only one hand while the other lifted the drink to his lips for another sip. "You must get played with a lot at these tournaments to know the game so well."

While she squirmed and tried to buck her way free, he leaned down closer. The stench of whiskey wafted around her.

"Why don't we go up to my room, and I show you a thing or two in return?"

He reached under her lingerie. She bit the fingertip covering her mouth. It was barely anything, but he flinched all the same and allowed her to scream.

"Stop!" she yelped.

"What are you doing?" Andres barked.

A shadow descended upon them. The drink was swiped to the ground, Andres' hand crashing into it like a freight train. Glass shattered. The pressure of Jackson's hand vanished. Lorelei scrambled backward on her hands and rear, gasping for breath as she watched Andres and Jackson come to blows.

Jackson shoved Andres into the bar, making it rattle like an earthquake. Lorelei ducked down and covered her head, peeking over her knees as Andres landed a brutal punch to Jackson's stomach.

"Stop!" the manager screamed, backing away to the other side of the bar. "Stop now! Or we'll get security! You'll be arrested!"

Andres grabbed the front of Jackson's shirt and then shoved him away, seething.

Coughing, Jackson leaned on the bar. "What are you, a fucking sympathizer?" he spat, face contorting with disgust.

"Not in the slightest," Andres growled. "But she is mine."

"Mr. Soto," the manager said in a quavering voice. "You could be disqualified—"

"No," Jackson said. "No. I'm not pressing charges or reporting this or anything. I wanna face this fucker during the finals."

A very confused-looking hotel employee walked up holding a glass trinket case. Andres pulled away from the bar and snatched the case before reaching for Lorelei. There was no waiting for her to climb on this time. He closed her in a fist and stormed off. Even over the sound of his footsteps, Lorelei heard the manager offer Jackson a complimentary trinket for his troubles.

All the way to the room, Andres did not lift his fist from his side. She couldn't help but tremble, replaying the events of the fight over and over in her mind. These weren't the carefully calculated moves of a chess game; this was chaos. Utter chaos that she had never expected to manifest in him. She had gotten so used to his collected prowess on the board that she hadn't imagined what he could do in a physical fight.

He entered his suite and put her down on the lounger. She wasn't surprised at all when he immediately began setting up his chessboard on the coffee table. She would have asked him to do it if he hadn't.

"One match before bed," he said. "I need to rest before the first round tomorrow."

Lorelei stayed quiet, hugging her knees as she watched him arrange the pieces. With each clack of wood on the board, she pictured him driving his fists into Jackson. He glanced at her every few seconds, looking like he was working himself up to say something. Then he would think better of it.

Finally, when the board was ready, he spoke.

"Did I frighten you?" he asked without the smallest measure of apology.

"Does it matter?"

"Are you too distracted to play?"

"Never."

"Then it does not matter."

He walked around the coffee table to the lounger and reached for her. He stopped short and turned his hand over beside her, offering his palm instead. She chuckled mirthlessly and scooted over to climb on. "Well, look at that. He can be taught."

She took the white team and started the game. In no time, she felt at home among the light-up squares and smooth wooden pieces. There was no rust to shake off from her strategy. No uncertainty. Since his second visit, she had been given a reason to keep her chess mind sharp.

He, however, was the one who seemed distracted as she paced around the pieces. She was well on her way to beating him in less than twenty-five moves.

"Your move," she declared when his expression stayed distant for too long.

He blinked at her, then pushed a hand up his face with a heavy sigh. "Lorelei..."

"Lore."

"Lore. When I said you were mine..." He heaved another sigh. "I want to make something perfectly clear. I hope you don't really have any fanciful ideas about me taking you away from here. I will not put myself at risk like that."

She pursed her lips and pointed at the board. "Your move."

He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, then slumped forward with his elbows on his knees. "Listen to me, Lore. This is the last time you'll see me here. You understand?"

She did understand. She understood that this was the first time he had seen her life outside the safety that his visits provided. She understood that he had seen the aftermath of a regular afternoon on bar duty for her. She understood that he had seen what people like Jackson did when they got their hands on her. She understood that none of it was enough to make him take the risk for her.

"This tournament is far below your rating," she said, folding her hands behind her back and strolling along the edge of the board away from him. She peeked back over her shoulder. "I was surprised you showed up at all."

"I have you to thank for my improved rating. But you are correct. I have no business at this tournament anymore."

She turned around, wishing so badly that this didn't hurt the way it did. "Then why are you here?"

His eye contact did not waver. He straightened up and looked down at her. "Because you are the best I've played in my life. Perhaps the best I ever will play. I am determined to beat you before the tournament is over. I have lost sleep over you, Señorita Lorelei. I would like to sleep soundly again. Please don't ruin it with your fanciful thoughts."

"They're my fanciful thoughts, Señor Andres. And you can't take them away. They're all I have." She pointed at the board once more, determined to memorize every last turn of their final games together. "Your move."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ *~ *

The morning after the tournament finals, Lorelei awoke unsure of her surroundings. She wasn't in the hotel room. Not in the cylindrical container the staff supplied Andres. She should have awoken to the sound of housekeeping knocking at the door, but instead she heard a cacophony of voices.

Motion caught her attention. Swaying. Footsteps.

Realizing she was in a pocket, she all but shot to her feet to get a look at who was holding her. Had Andres left her outside the room for some random guest to sweep up and torment? That didn't seem like him, even if he had been particularly sulky during their last night together when he still failed to beat her.

Bracing herself, she peeked up from the coat.

A familiar face. His dark eyes shot from the phone in his hand to the fact poking out of his jacket. Andres shot her a sharp look, then typed away at his phone. He lowered it enough for her to see.

"Don't get excited. This is not a rescue, I'm stealing a private tutor."

She had only half a second to read it before his hand filled her vision. He pushed her back down, one finger pressing her belly as if to tell her stay. Then his hand withdrew, and his steps resumed. Her heart hammered as the sound of an airline announcement caught her ear.

Finally, he had made a move she did not predict.

#giant/tiny #gt #g/t #giant #tiny #gt writing #gt story #print universe #the candescent king #lorelei #andres #mywriting

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amenomiko · 4 years ago

Text

Thank you for the request! I made the pictures of them in picrew)

https://picrew.me/image_maker/395807

https://picrew.me/image_maker/22347

Hideyoshi's son (Eyes like mother, Looks and Hair like father)

Mitsuhide's daughter (Eyes like father, Looks and Hair like mother)

Unexpected In-Laws

To Hideyoshi,...

When his son, the exact-copy-of-him son confessed that he is dating, he is more than a proud father.

His son is someone who is firm, serious, and obedient, the type that is hard to open his heart to other as he prioritizes laws, rules, and so forth. Just like him. But to know that he finally get someone to date-- that is a joyous news!

With a proud (Yet giddy) smile, he turned to his wife, and get a mirrored smile in return. "This is a good news! Who might that be? Ah, is it the beautiful princess from one of our alliances--""It's ____, father."

Hideyoshi froze. His wife froze. It took a while for them to blend it all, before exchanging glances. "____? I- Is it--"

"Yes, father. It's Lord Mitsuhide's daughter." Pressing his lips tight, he somehow hesitates to continue his next word, yet managed to say it under his breath, "Will you.. approve of our relationship..? She is.. S-she is.. so.. beautiful."

"Aww.. My baby.." His wife melted first. "Of course we would. Right..?" She turned to her husband with a secret-knowing-glare. "..Honey?" And that was NOT a call of love but a warning instead.

Hideyoshi: (☉д⊙)... *still dumbfounded*

Gosh. Of all the people-- it's MITSUHIDE'S DAUGHTER???

To Mitsuhide,...

"Seeing you coming here for a tea instead of your love for shooting practice, is there any occasion, darling?"

Their daughter smiles at her mom, taking the tea pot in her own hands to pour the tea into their cups. "Well.. You know me better, mother." Exchanging a grin with her father, who is currently writing into a scroll, she giggled. "You may want to stop writing that as it might be a good news to mother, and an opposite to you, father."

"Goodness." Mitsuhide feign a surprised look on his face. "What could that be, my baby mouse?" A low chuckle left him as he resumes to wet the brush with ink. "Do tell. Other than your mother who is able to surprise me all the time, I assume our daughter could be the same..?"

"Alright. I am going out with someone."

There was a pause in his movement. "Going out--..""My..!" His wife beamed, "You have a lover?? Who confessed to who?"

She shrugged, "He did." Taking a sip from her tea, she continued, "I was only having my way around him, as he is a very serious person who obediently follows every instruction and rules, just a bit of a tease, and there he goes. Getting all red and flustered. Before you know it, he had came first and confessed to me and ask me to be his lover." There was a chuckle left her lips, but there was also a warm smile on her expression.

"He seems adorable. So.." Her mother cooed to her, all the while tugging her husband's scarf from the giddiness. "Awww Honey.. Our mischievous daughter is in love..! I'm so happy..!"

Brush still froze above the scroll, Mitsuhide didn't budge to the already smudged object in front of him. Alright, this time will come, sooner or later, no matter how he won't admit that he won't give away his daughter so easily. But the way she described her lover somehow poke something inside of him. Which is... the need to tease something has risen.

If this is an animated scene, there will be devil horns and tail on his body now. "I don't need to guess, am I?" He grinned. "Is it Hideyoshi's son?"

"Heh. You always matched my expectations, father." She giggled, followed by her mother's innocent giggle, and his meaningful chuckle.

Then when both of the father(s) met with one another...

Hideyoshi: ಠ_ಠ....

Mitsuhide: ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^)....

Hideyoshi: I- It was his choice. I have nothing to against for the sake of his happiness.

Mitsuhide: Of course, of course. It's the same as my part. At least your son has a heart that can melt to a very adorable element, unlike those who have a hardened and stubborn ones due to sense of belief about his lord--

Hideyoshi: MITSUHIDE YOU- YOU OAO--

Mitsuhide: Yes, my fellow in-law (˵ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°˵)?

Hideyoshi: GAAAAHHH (┛☉Д⊙)┛!!!

#ikemen sengoku #ikemen sengoku hideyoshi toyotomi #ikemen sengoku mitsuhide akechi #ikemen sengoku hideyoshi #ikemen sengoku mitsuhide

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doctorgerth · 4 years ago

Text

🌸 Update 🌸

So I know I said in a previous update that I am considering opening my box for HCs and other smaller writings indefinitely. This will probably still happen, but at a later time. Work is finally starting to slow down a bit, but I am still not able to fully dedicate myself to writing and I would like to wait until I can before I take normal requests again. This will more than likely be after the 2000 follower event!

Instead, in a few minutes, I’m going to be opening my box for SUGGESTIONS. (I got this idea from the lovely @kaizokuwritings) Here’s what you need to know -

❀ You still send request ideas like normal. Refer to my rules when creating your suggestion.

❀ The main differences between suggestions and normal requests is prioritization and selections. Suggestions are not as much of a priority as normal requests, therefore your suggestions might not get out in a timely manner. I will also be selective when choosing suggestions, meaning I will only accept those that I have inspiration for. Those that I don’t feel like writing will simply get deleted.

❀ I will only accept suggestions that I can write in < 500 words or in HC format. No scenario suggestions will be accepted. For reference, SYS, Soft Kisses, or ITM type requests. You are more than welcome to suggest more characters for anything I have previously written.

If you are a-okay with all of the above, please feel free to send any suggestions you have when I open the box! I will leave my box open for suggestions permanently, just so I can always have a handful of ideas to work with if I’m ever stumped with requests (like I am currently with the VDay requests 🥴).

This is just a way to keep content flowing on my blog and give me the freedom to write what I want!

If you have any questions, please feel free to reach out. The box opening post will go up soon! 💕

#doctor's note

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theunredeemable · 3 years ago

Link

The Silent Breeze lurched violently in the vacuum of space as another explosion wracked its corpse. Debris and bodies orbited it, caught in its small, gravitational pull as it hung limply, the survivors watching from their escape pods just outside of the gravitational pull. It had been hours since the death of the captain, since the Sun Dragoons laid waste to the ship, though it was not they who sent the ship to its demise. Captain Gole's execution had created a power vacuum within the ship, and those hungry for power tried to capitalise on it. Their infighting further damaged the weakened hull and life support systems, and the sublight engine’s explosion had killed many. Those that survived were the ones who fled in the escape pods as the fighting started, and now waited for rescue.

"What's the chance that anyone's even coming?"

Jaune turned in his seat to look at the asker, and the sight nearly broke his heart. The boy was barely a man, no doubt pressed into service to pay off debts not his own, sent to die so far from home. Though The Silent Breeze was a transport ship, it was still in service to the Empire, if through the SDC. Jaune tried to give him a reassuring smile. "I won't lie to you, I don't know. But we have to hold onto hope. I'm sure someone's picked up our signal by now."

A scoff came from the scowling, silver haired man sat next to him. "I wouldn't hold my breath if I were either of you. There weren't many aware we were even coming out here."

Jaune glared at him, disgust written clearly across his face. "Your negativity isn't helping anything, Black."

"That's Agent Black to you, Arc."

Jaune rolled his eyes, turning back to the young man. "Ignore him, Rookie. He gets paid to be a dour jerk. We're going to be fine, someone will come." He gave a final smile before returning his attention to the communication screen. "You'll see. Any minute now..."

Another hour passed in uneasy silence, the noise of the console's steady beeping and the crew’s heavy breaths filling the air. Even Jaune was starting to lose hope. Another hour and they'd start to run out of oxygen. Quietly, under his breath, he offered up a prayer to the divines that a miracle would come soon. As if they were listening, a series of beeps came from the communications console in a repeating pattern of three, signifying a large vessel was approaching. Looking out the window, he could see a ripple in space, then a flash of blue as The Nevermore appeared in the void. Shortly after, several smaller ships spilled out of its many hangers, like wasps swarming from their hive. In unison, his comms crackled to life as a feminine voice came over. "This is Winter Schnee, Captain of The Nevermore. Please identify the senior most officer."

Jaune moved to respond, but the man next to him moved faster, pushing the button to open communications. "This is SDC Special Agent Mercury Black, requesting immediate pick up."

Static answered Mercury's claim, and Jaune took no small amount of delight in the unpleasant man's frustration, until the comms kicked in again. "Recognised, Agent Black. However, there are escape pods in worse condition than yours, and need to take priority. You will have to wait."

Mercury scowled and nearly shouted down the comms. "SDC and Empire regulations demand that the highest ranking officer is recovered first and foremost!"

"Under normal circumstances, you would be correct. However, I have looked at the crew manifesto for The Silent Breeze and you are...suspiciously absent from it. Officially, Agent Black, you are not here. Something I am sure you arranged for whatever secret mission my father has you on. But seeing as you are not officially here, you do not currently take priority." There was a pause, before Winter's voice picked back up again. "Now, unless my sister is in that pod with you, I need to find the highest ranking officer. One that, officially, actually is present."

Jaune pushed Mercury's hands away, pressing down on the button himself. "I believe that's me, Ma'am. At least, I'm the highest ranking surviving officer."

"What is your name and position?"

"Jaune Arc, Chief Security Officer. Ma'am, if I may...if there are damaged pods out there, please prioritize their recovery. I've already lost enough of my crewmates today."

Static answered once more as Jaune looked out the window, watching as rescue crews found the other escape pods and dragged them back to The Nevermore. Many of them were damaged from the sublight explosion, or from drifting debris. "Very well, Mr. Arc. But both you and Agent Black will be answering my questions once you are aboard. Such as why my sister doesn't appear to be in any of your pods, and you better hope I like the answer."

The line went dead as Winter cut off communications, and Jaune felt a sense of dread wash over him as Mercury laughed. "Well pretty boy, depending on how you answer her you're either getting promoted today...or getting shot." The way Mercury was grinning, Jaune got the feeling the man was hoping for the later.

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

Winter stood in the war-room, waiting impatiently for her 'guests' to arrive. She commended Jaune for his selflessness in ensuring his crewmates were safe before he was, but now she wished he was a little more selfish. Or, at the very least, in a different pod than Mercury Black. She sneered at the thought of the unsavoury individual, before tempering her ire and marshalling her features into a mask of neutrality. "There will be plenty of time to get angry later, Winter. For now, get the facts, assess the risk...find my sister." She took a deep breath, turning around as she heard the door hiss open. There stood Mercury Black, his uniform the same colour as his name and suspiciously pristine, and Jaune Arc, whose uniform was tattered and coated in dust and oil. With naught but a glance, she could easily tell which of the two was worth her time.

"Mr. Arc, I must formally commend your loyalty to your crew. You made a lot of friends today by putting them first." Jaune flushed at the praise as Winter's gaze turned to the other in the room. "Agent Black."

"Captain Schnee."

The two stared at each other, the tension in the room becoming palpable before she turned her back to the both of them, moving to the other side of the holo-table, dragging her hand across its surface. "So, which one of you will tell me how this happened?" Pushing a button, the table activated to show The Silent Breeze's derelict state.

Mercury sneered, showing no sign of answering, so Jaune cleared his throat and began. "We were set upon by pirates while in the process of transporting Weiss Schnee, code named Songbird, to Argus Augmentics." He ignored the withering glare Mercury was shooting his way and carried on. "Before the attack, Songbird made an attempt to flee the ship, but was stopped by Agent Black and brought before Captain Gole. I...am unsure of what transpired on the Bridge as I was not present. What I do know is that after the pirates took what they were after and escaped, Gole was dead and Songbird was missing."

Winter nodded, the room growing cold with her barely contained rage. Jaune thought he could see ice forming on the viewports, but chalked it up to a figment of his imagination as Winter looked to Mercury. "Agent Black, would you care to fill in the blanks?"

"No."

Jaune winced, and took a step away as Winter's eyes narrowed. "No?"

"You are not the Schnee I answer to, and as such I am under no obligation to tell you anything."

Winter was silent for several minutes, tension returning to the room as she stared a hole into Mercury before she turned her attention back to Jaune. "Mr. Arc, you are dismissed. Go get some rest, we will speak more later."

"Yes, Ma'am!" Jauned saluted, hesitating to leave. "Just...one more thing, ma'am."

"What is it?"

"I was a part of the defense, and I managed to see the emblem the pirates wore. It was a drake devouring a sun. There might be something in the records about them."

"Thank you, Jaune. That helps. Go rest." Winter gave a rare, reassuring smile, before switching back to her icy demeanour as she turned back to Mercury. "You are both dismissed." Jaune saluted once more, leaving the chamber, though Mercury remained where he stood. "Do you have something useful to say, Agent Black?"

"I demand transport back to the core worlds."

"Then you are more than welcome to borrow one of our fighters. Not that it will get you far, maybe to a nearby world with a port where you can requisition a transport ship." Mercury opened his mouth to protest, but was stopped before he could. "Agent Black, just as you do not answer to me, I do not answer to you or your organisation. I am a servant of the Atlesian Empire, not my father, for he is not the Emperor. I am not beholden to give you anything, and seeing as you have been uniquely unhelpful I'm not even inclined to give you the time. Officially, you aren't even here. My mission takes priority."

Mercury scoffed, glaring at Winter. "What mission? Saving your little sister?" His voice dripped with venom as he sneered, though Winter only smiled.

"Hunting down the pirates I was sent out here for. And, thank you."

"For what?"

"For confirming my sister is alive. Now, get the hell out of my sight before I decide the brig will be better accommodation for you."

Mercury's scowl deepened, annoyed for giving information away, but obeyed as he made to leave. "Where are my quarters?"

"There is an ensign waiting to escort you." Winter waited until the doors closed behind him until her countenance shifted to one of anger. Ice formed around her feet, crystallizing on the floor and air as her hands curled into fists and she trembled with rage. "Of all the self-important...arrogant...irritating pieces of filth, why did it have to be him?” She was certain that if everything in the room weren't bolted down she would have trashed the place by now. Instead, she took a slow, calming breath and smoothed down her hair. Shaking the ice from her feet, she waved a hand and caused it all to melt into the floor as she pressed another button. "Please send Sustrai in." She seethed in silence for the several minutes she was alone, hands flexing as she brought her emotions back under control before her CCO arrived.

"You called, Ma'am?"

"Yes...I need you to bring me everything you can find on Mercury Black. It'll be hard considering he's a SDC Agent, but I don't trust hi-" She paused upon noticing the way Emerald tensed. "What is it?"

"When the two of you were talking over comms...I prayed that it was someone else, a different agent with the same last name."

"You know him then?"

"I did...once. Friends, though we were more like family at the time. But we went down different paths." She let out a sad sigh, hugging herself as she looked askance. "He became distant, then cruel, because the universe was cruel to us and he wanted to be strong enough to be the one calling the shots, while I chose to not let it define me anymore."

"I..I am sorry, Emerald. I didn't know." Winter dropped her professionalism, looking at her friend in concern.

"It's fine, there's no reason you would. It was a lifetime ago, after all." She let out a sad chuckle, before shaking her head. "I'll make a dossier for you with what I know and what I can find. Anything else?"

"Yes, one more thing. Do you know which pirate crew uses the emblem of a drake devouring a sun?"

Emerald thought for a moment, before nodding. "Yes...I believe the Sun Dragoons use that symbol." She moved over to the holo-table, and pressed a series of buttons. When she was done, The Silent Breeze fizzled away, and was replaced with a much larger ship, as well as an image of it's captain. "Their ship is called The New Dawn , and their captain is..." She paused, smiling lightly. "Yang Xiao-Long, daughter of Taiyang Xiao-Long. She matches the description of the pirate we're hunting."

Winter allowed herself a small smile, the flame of hope sparking in her chest as her rage started to abate. "How...serendipitous. Thank you, Emerald. You can go, I'll have orders for the crew soon." Emerald saluted, and left her captain alone in the room, only the light of the holo-table illuminating her as she stared at the image of Yang. "So you're the one who kidnapped my sister....prepare yourself, Pirate. I'm coming for you."

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Mercury glanced about his sparse room, sneering in disgust. It reminded him too much of his old room at the orphanage, and he had grown accustomed to the finer accommodations as one of Jacques' private agents. He suspected he was in this room due to Winter's clear dislike of him. "Not that the feeling isn't mutual..." he mused to himself, before shrugging. "No matter, I won't be here long." Moving to the center of the room, he pulled out a small, circular device. Pressing the activation button, he spoke into it before throwing it to the center of the floor and stepping back. "Open a secure line to Councillor Jacques Schnee."

He was forced to wait for almost half an hour, before the device beeped loudly and a holographic Jacques materialised from the device. He was in the middle of fixing the cufflinks on his own uniform as he looked down his nose at Mercury. "What is it, Black. You interrupted a rather important meeting."

"Songbird flew the coop, and I require transit back."

Jacques seemed to freeze in mild shock, though he soon recovered as he clasped his hands behind his back. "What do you mean, flew the coop? Was I wrong to entrust such an...important delivery to you and Gole?"

"Gole is dead. She was taken by pirates."

"Did he run his mouth before he died?"

Mercury nodded. "Unfortunately. Songbird attempted to escape on her own, and Gole used the truth to cow her. Then the pirates attacked."

"Do you know which faction?"

"I believe they called themselves the Sun Dragoons, or something equally idiotic."

Jacques' calm demeanour dropped as he sneered, swearing in High Atlesian. "Those are the same pirates Winter was assigned by that fool Ironwood to hunt down." Mercury grimaced, knowing what his boss was about to say. "I'll need to assign you to her for damage control..."

"Well, sir. You're in luck. I'm already on board. It was The Nevermore that answered the distress call."

"In that case your request is denied. You will stay aboard and keep an eye on things. Assist only in hunting the pirates down for the express purpose of returning Songbird into your custody, if you can. Keep her away from her sister at all costs. Oh, and Black."

"Yes sir?"

"Kill Weiss if she starts to talk."

#stealing the rich #winter schnee #mercury black #rwby #rwby au #emerald sustrai #Jaune Arc #lesbians in space #Jacques schnee

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