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leynaeithnea · 3 months ago

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Hi :)

here is a lil ask to use whenever you're ready to go insane about love in paradise ( go nuts with your analysis!!! Make it a thousand pages essay!!! Or half a sentence, anything you want love<3 )

YeS YES YES YES THANK YOU AAAH here you go seven pages/3600 words essay :>

TW, for SA/Sxcide mention/discussion, you know the deal with the song

29. Love In Paradise

THE DIVE INTO THE SOUND SCAPE WITH THE CHOIR, the melody, and the clicking clock??? SO GOOD

“Old friend” FRIEND Aaaah U FINIALLY ADMIT IT

“It′s been 10 years since I last saw you” YOU DIDNT CHECK ON HIM IN 10 YEARS GIRL

“Remember me, I am the infamous, Odysseus!, Oh, woah-oh, woah-oh” This was the last time she saw him, its been 10 years, she quick minded him right after that, and HASNT SEEN HIM SINCE--- i love how it is sped up and you can visualize her literally diving through his memories in a timelapse

“Let’s see where you′ve been” FINIALLY, but also thE VOCAL PERFORMANCE (this is me like 90% of this saga, im obssessed)

I LOVE the soundscape of the flashbacks, the way that sounds with a mild echo like in big room? just...in his mind?? IDK how to call it but ITS SO GOOD

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer” - the first thing that went wrong “Ruthlessness is mercy upon oursel-” BIG THING THAT WENT WRONG

“One wrong move and you’re done for

Anything I-” close call

“Song of past romance I see the” smart way to recall the underworld saga AND bring up the sirens, followed by

“We won’t take more suffering from you”, the way that ody embraced his monster

“Drown in your sorrow and fears” -that didnt go well very long, also, timelaps is slowing down, we’re getting closer to the events that answer where he spent the last years

“Captain? - I have to see her - But we′ll die -I know”, the last moments before he disappeared, making him suffer terribly again at the hands of her father >:)

“Odysseus... where did you go?” she sounds so worrieddddd, her voice tho, pls mother dearest

THE MUSIC, is so coool the island vibes? the dodo do do dodo, the birds and the shore and the....instrument whos name i forgot the tip-tap thing is soo comfy vibesssss, beach island holiday vibes!!

“Morning, sleepyhead, You′ve been resting for a while, I swore that you were dead when you washed up on my isle”.......i need...visuals......i need the most angsty visuals i can get of this, please, i need to see him wash up, more dead then alive and then unconscious for who knows how long, with his stab wound, the concussion from Eurys punch, whatever wounds he got from the lighting hitting his ship AND almost drowning, getting taking care of by her until he wakes up again...

“Did you know you talk in your sleep? Tell me though, who’s Penelope?” ........is she hoping that he’ll say his sister or was she just trying to make small talk?

“She′s my wife”, he sounds so tired/distanced from the situation, her reminding him instantly of the one thing he’s holding on to, maybe remembering what just happened, he needs to go back...

HER SILENCE AFTER THAT IS SO TELLINGS SEGGSEIGS THE ANIMATIC WAS HILARIOUS, i love gigi

and then the “anyways!” WHAT DO YOU MEAN “ANYWAYS” SHE IS HIS LOVE HIS LIGHT HIS REASON YOU DONT ANYWAYS PENELOPE ahem, im vibing so hard to this tho

“I’ve got all you could want here, all you could need here” sounds nice, i would 100% fall under her spell, her voice is beatiful

“Just you and me, my dear, my love for life” uh oh where is this going, huh?? huh???? >:) Ma’am, this is not yours

“Soon, into bed we′ll climb and spend our time” DONT U FUCKING DARE TOUCH HIM HES BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH HES THE ONLY FAITHFUL MAN IN ANCIENT GREECE LET HIM BEEEEEEEEE

“I’m not your man-” THE JUST A MAN REPHRASING? EXCUSE ME???? this is going so differently compared to Circes there are other ways, he has no interest in her, all he wants is to go back home, hes sacrificed the rest of his crew for that, he. needs. to go. home. (the delivery tho omg so good)

“I′m what you want here, I’m what you need here, Just you and me, my love in paradise, Now ‘til the end of time” he does not need you, he does not want you, this is not paradise for him, get the fuq away from my baby girl odysseus, i know youre lonely on your little island, i know zeus did you wrong, BUT THAT DOES NOT GIVE YOU ANY RIGHT TO TAKE CLAIM TO ODYSSEUS; HE IS NOT YOUR MAN

“From here on out, you′re mine, all mine” possissive much, fuck off >:) also thats what he greets him with? thats....not...no. he’s been through so much, he fought in a war he never wanted to go to for ten years, he used a wooden horse to finially end the war because he just needed to go back home, he had to kill a child to choose his family, they were safe on their way home when his best friend got killed, then they almost made it home, but the bag was opened, most of his crew died, his men got turned into pigs and he got another round of the gods playing games with him (see: hermes telling Ody not to refuse circe in homers odyssey when she wants to take him to bed, so he doesnt, he cant refuse the demands of gods), once they finially leave their island with his men back as humans, they have to go through the underworld where EVERY loss he had (which are more than he knew) comes back to haunt him, he learns his family is in danger, theres blood in his palace, all his mercy is harming him, so he embraces the thing he never wanted to be - a monster - and when the sirens come, he kills them, but he has to go further than that, the only way to get home is to sacrifice six of his men, so he does, six more men to haunt his dreams, if thats the price he has to pay he will, but his men turn on him, his trusted brother in law, not only opened the windbag, now he also starts a mutiny, the men he tried to bring home so badly betray him, stab him, bind him to a statue and he can do nothing but watch as they kill the cattle, his doom is sealed, zeus shows up and tells him to either choose himself, or his crew, hes a broken man, how much more has he to go through before he can go home? but he has to home to his family, so he chooses, his last decision he has to make, and he sinks into the ocean, thinking maybe, he can finally close his eyes, he needs to go home but he is so tired of suffering he would welcome an end of it...but then he wakes up, on this peaceful island, with a woman next to him, who suddenly puts claim on him, she wants him IN HER BED??? He needs to go home. he’s alive, he survived zeus and poseidon and aelus and circe and the underoworld and the war and-...he became the monster, he knows what to do, just another face in his nightmares to get home

“Hell no, I could kill you where you stand” he just has to be the monster

“I′m no pet, I’m a married man” HE HAS TO HIGHLIGHT THAT HE IS MARRIED TO HER AH, the fact that he feels like she sees him as a pet? picked up like a stray dog and kept as a pet....he is not that, i also love his electric guitar is in the background together with the ticking clock of the time dive

“Oh handsome, you may try, But last I checked, goddesses can′t die” she doesnt feel threatened by him at all, because she is a goddess, how could a mortal man refuse her? he cant, even if he tries, he has no choice (but also, i hate jorge for dropping this line, just before godgames, ITS LEAVING US NOT KNOWIng WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED THERE)

THEN THE DROP IN THE MUSIC AH its becoming so imposing and threatening AND ITS SO COOL

“Goddess?” terrified, here they go again, another goddess, he is powerless against these forces, it cant be, he needs to get home, how can his luck be so bad?

“You’re adorable” SHE DOES SEE HIM LIKE A PET, HE CALLS HIM CUTE; HE DOESNT FEEL ANY THREAT FROM HIM; HES A GODDESS HES JUST A MAN AH

“Bow down now to the immortal Calypso” CALYPSO YOU BITCH LEAVE MY MAN ALONE; but liek The fuQing audacity? to ask him to bow down? you just told him hes the love of your life and now you ask him to bow down???? THE POWER IMBALANce is so stRONG IN THIS ONE I CANT EVEN

“Here to entertain” entertain who? mh?? YOURSELF? with your new “pet”? NO shut up

“But fear not, I bring no pain” Calpyso, come a bit closer so i can punch you, youre KEPEign him on YOUR ISLAND; THE LACK OF ACTion IS WHATS goNNA KILL HIM; NOT YOU HURTING HIM PHYSICALLY; YOU TORTURE HIM IN the WORST WAYS emotionALLY SO GET AWAYYYYYYYYYY FROM PENELOPES MAN

“Cause we′ve got, All we could want here, All we could need here”, the way she keeps approaching him, dancing around him and trying to get close, while he keeps backing away and trying to get away From her is killing me, they have everything they need to survive yes, which means he does not have to do any work, he has NOTHING to distract him from you, all he can do is do what you tell him to because youre a goddess and he’s at your mercy and SUFFER sitting with his own thoughts and all his regret and shame and pain and trauma and yearing to go back home

“Under my spell, we’re stuck in paradise” fuck you. this is not paradise, this is hell :) :) :) RELEASE HIM

“No one can come or go, my island stays unknown” this, might very well be the worst moment for Ody so far, after EVERYTHING he’s been through. He choose his crew to die, it was supposed to be the last decision, it was supposed to be the climatic event before the end, all the expectations and tensions that rose in him getting set so high but instead..... nothing happens, he gets stuck in “paradise”, no monsters to fight,its not violent, theres no external threads to his life, things should be good, and happy and peaceful. its anti-climatic, and stifling because he has no way to release all this tension, its just stagnation, and all this tension getting internalized, it might very well be worse than having something you can fight against, but Calypso is a goddess, he cant harm her, her spell keeps him stuck on the island, he is powerless. His goal, his reason, his hope impossibly out of reach, all in the hand of this goddess, who doesn’t take no as an answer

“no, no” i love how Jorge wrote another “suffering” thing again, where the last syllable of one speaker gets picked up by the other “unknown” “no” becoming “Unknowno,no” its SO GOOD, but also the implications???? the last time we had this a siren wanted to seduce him and lure him into the water, now its a goddess wanting to lure him into loving and staying with her, again, he tries to find excuses and fend her off, his argumentation is a lot weaker than with the sirens though, he doesnt have a way out, all he can do is refuse and pray she listens, also CALYPSO BITCH THERES NO CLEARER WAY HE COULDVE SAID “NO”; LEAVE HIM BE; HE SAID NO FUCKING ACCEPT THAT HE DOES NOT CONSENT

“I don′t belong here”, he doesnt, time passes, he has to tell himself that this isnt where he’s meant to be, he needs to go, he has to leave.

“There’s something wrong here”, how many times do you think he almost gave in? how many times do you think she was lured in by her spell only to shake the spell off again because he kept feeling that something was wrong, never really falling under her spell, never staying under it for long, because its wrong, this isnt where he needs to be, he needs to get home because his family is waiting at home, theyre in danger.

“I won’t be drawn to love in paradise, not ′til the end of time, there is no way” she just has nothing on penelope. and he will never be interested in calypso as seductive as she tries to be, circe failed, calyspo fails even worse (i love these vocal performances man, theyre SO GOOD)

“You′re mine, all mine” Annnnnd she doesnt take no as answer again, shes so possessive I HATE it, how she drowns out Odys “theres no way - youre mine, all mine” she drowns out and swallows up his voice, ignores him, his voice goes unheard...

and we go back to the clock ticking of the time dive of athena

“Seven years, she’s kept you trapped, out of your control, time can take a heavy toll” SEVEN. YEARS. sagnation for SEVEN YEARS. THIS IS TERRIBlE, Athena sounds so sad...and concerned, from what she’s seen, but just...imagine that, he fought in troy for 10 years, now odys been stuck on this island for almost just as long, and before that he had EVERYTHING ELSE happen to him, feeling powerless against outside forces for YEARS, it weights down in him, all he can do is internalize it, because there is no monster he can fight, but himself. and...we can hear the danger motif in the choir.....because...he’s become a danger to himself....

the soundscape shifts again, we go back into a memory, its raining and windy, at the beach

“Odysseus?”, she geninuely sounds concerened, what could make her concerned i wonder....

“All I hear are screams”,...he...he’s broken, a callback to the underworld, he sounds defeated, hopeless, dissociative

“Ody”...Ody......you dare call him ody? you may have known each other for seven years but you DID NOT treat him right, you have no RIGHT to call him that, the last person who called him Ody was Eurylochus before he signed their doom.

“Get away from the ledge”....hes.....on his last rope, its been seven years since he sacrificed his last crew, ten years since he lost polites, eight since he lost most of his crew, twenty years since he last saw his family, she wants to keep him at the island for eternity, he cant leave, theres no way out, so now he’s here, on the cliffs edge staring out into the deepths below, knowing that Poseidon is still out to get him, but behind him is a Goddess that made him suffer just as bad, if not worse, rly is there any way to escape?

“You don′t know what I’ve gone through, You don′t know what I’ve sacrificed, every comrade I long knew, every friend, I saw them die”, its been more than seven years, and they still haunt his every waking and sleeping hour. he sacrificed everything to get back home, and yet it was not enough, now hes stuck here, and all sacrfices were for nothing, and he has nothing to distract him, when the goddess doesnt want his attention, he just....sits at the beach replaying their deaths over and over in his mind. [One translation of the scenes in Homers Odyseey: She found him sitting on the shore, his eyes as ever wet with tears, life’s sweetness ebbing from him in longing for his home, since the Nymph no longer pleased him. He was forced to sleep with her in the hollow cave at night, as she wished though he did not, but by day he sat among rocks or sand, tormenting himself with tears, groans and anguish, gazing with wet eyes at the restless sea] just....for SEVEN years? good gods, homer really said “how much trauma can we fit into this one man”

“And all I hear are screams” .....and all he hears are their screams

“(It will be fine dear)”, it wont, fuck off, not as long as you keep him trapped

“Come back inside, dear” ..............i...come back inside? to do what? remind him that hes stuck with you? force him to-............my rage is endless.

“Love of my life, come back to paradise” HE DOESNT LOVE YOU; STOP CALLING HIM THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE, THIS IS STILL NOT PARADISE; DONT::::TRY TO ....BEWITCH HIM, YOU SELFISH BIch

“Let me close my eyes”, hes...so....sooo..so tired. he just wants to close his eyes..and..not open them anymore, doesnt he? He sang to the infant “to close your eyes to spare yourself the view”, he wants to do the same, hes so so tired.....

“I know your life′s been hard”, you have no idea

“I’ll stay inside your heart”,....did you just......did...you really just......use the words his mother said to him in the underworld? ...............

“All I hear are screams!” hes having flashbacks, the ghosts of his past keep haunting him, and shes making it so, so mcuh worse

“(I love you my dear) I love our time here

Life would be so much worse If you had died” YOUR LIFE, the worst part is, she doesnt say this because Ody deserves better, she says this because if he was gone, she would be alone again, and she just wants to have him, own him, have him be hers

“(Just let me close my eyes)”, she doesnt...let him close his eyes, he spents the nights in her bed against his will, and the days, crying at the beach, and when he sleeps he must be haunted by nightmares......theres no rest ever really.

“Please stay from away from harm, Stay in my open arms.......................she..just....made it so so much worse, ALSO JORGE; JORGE WHEN I CATCH YOU JORGE HOW DARE YOU HOW DARE YOU SLAP OPEN ARMS AT US AGAIN WILL POLITES NEVER STOP HAUNTING THE NARRATIVE, Calyspo rly threw “Ody”, “stay inside your heart” and “open arms” at him consecutively, while he was already deep down the trenches.and now......

“(All I hear are-)” what he hears is....

“This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms, Whatever we face, we’ll be fine if we′re leading from the heart, No matter the place, we can light up the world here′s how to start Greet the world with open arms, greet the world with open”

Polites, all his opens, and promises, and he cant live up to it, he tried, he tries so HARD to greet the world with open arms, but he cant, but ruthlessness did not help him either, he misses polites, he was the last person he had at sea who TRULY cared for him, hes having a flashback, PTSD so badly as he is standing at the edge of the cliff, i can just see him falling to his knees, crying and then...

“How much longer till your luck runs out? How much longer till the show goes south? How much longer till we all fall down?”, he hears eurys warning, how much longer till his liuck runs out? his luck has run out, for years now, and hes still stuck, everything has turned bad, the show went south, they all fell down and yet.....

“Waiting..waaiting” his mom....said shed stay inside his heart, he took too long, its been twenty years since he left home, how many other people are waiting for him while is stuck on the island? all these voices are just...inside his head all the time and cant shake them off.

“ooohooooh...ohhh” THE VOCAL PERFORMANCE JORGE- JORGE-... hes just screaming, trying to drown out the voices in his head as he’s breaking down....he wants to let go, he cant let go, he needs to get back home, his family is in danger, theres no one who could help him, the only one, who might have been able to do something, his ally, left him ten years ago, when he defied her, but she is a goddess, if she has any mercy left...maybe...jsut maybe...she could help him...but she wouldnt really listen to him would she? how often has he prayed to her in those years? or has he refused to call out for her in fear of facing more rejection? but...he cant do this any longer, this is ...the very last thing he can do....and so he calls out for her.

“Athena!”, praying that what has been broken can be amended. at least with her.

“He needs my help” and his cry gets heard......athena voice breaks, when she sees how far her friend has fallen.

.....and she decides to do something about it

Oh boyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, I was worried about this song, how Jorge would choose to tackle the whole situation with calypso, while sticking to his “sfw” rule, AND I DID NOT GET DISAPPOINTeD QUITe on the cONtrary IM OBSSESED WITH IT

also the way polites is in one ear, Eury in the other and his mother all around him? the two sides that Ody had back then, polites more positive, and eury as more devil and both are gone and then his mother is just ALL AROUND HIM

typing this up took a couple of days, but if you will excuse me, imma go cry in a corner now

#odysseus is severely traumatized #i love him though #odysseus needs a hug #epic the musical #love in paradise #leyanalyses #epic the wisdom saga

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merge-conflict · 11 months ago

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kind of attached to this scrap set post-ending, where abernathy is trying to get information from takemura about her ex (valentine) and takemura is enduring the ordeal of playing a little bit of The Game and amusing himself by passing on oblique threats.

---

“You still fear she may try to kill you,” Goro said, evenly.

Abernathy covered her shock passably well. “Of course. She may not look it, but I can promise you she is more volatile than she seems.”

“Mm.” He suppressed a smile. “Once, I saw her rip a man’s intestines from his body with only her hands.”

The silence that followed was both satisfying and illuminating. “You’re joking.” Abernathy searched his face. “You’re not.”

“No.” He shrugged, slightly, as though it was of no consequence. “But there is a difference between…volatile and desperation.”

Abernathy lowered her chin, regarding him anew. “Yes, there is.”

There seemed to be very little that could surprise her for longer than a few seconds– a trait she shared with V. It was, perhaps, the only thing about her he could admire. She could see the ruthless line from where she stood to where she wanted to be, and would let nothing keep her from it. It made her dangerous, but also very easy to understand. He could not see what made her worthy of the devotion that still curbed V’s appetite for revenge.

“I have known her only a short time,” he conceded, although he was certain he understood V far better than Abernathy ever could, regardless of how long a time they had shared. “But I do not think she would risk what she has. Hanako-sama has placed her trust in V for a reason. You should not distract yourself…not when there are true threats.”

“I don’t suppose you have any particular examples?” Abernathy asked, cautiously.

He shook his head. “You speak of internal matters…I will not pretend to care about such petty struggles.”

She smiled humorlessly. “Of course. And it is comforting to know you think she can be trusted.”

“Yes…and she is much more useful than she may seem.”

For a brief moment something flashed over Abernathy’s face– surprise, he thought, but not disbelief. Clearly she knew how useful V could be, but why she thought it so shocking that anyone else should notice– no, he could understand well enough. SpecOps was a division that lied exceptionally well, especially to itself. For years he had labored under the direction of those whose talent for self-deception he had once mistaken for wisdom.

“You may be right, Takemura-san,” she said, with what sounded like sincerity. It was difficult for him to tell. “It’s good to know she’s proven herself useful already.”

“And not in the way so many seem to think,” he said, not bothering to conceal the annoyance in his tone. Don’t fake the emotion, V had said. Fake the reason. “I find it…disappointing how many believe me guilty of indiscretion, as they once did of treason and murder.”

“Disappointing indeed,” she replied crisply. She had not yet given up on the idea that she could make him into an ally. “Ambition has clouded the judgments of many people I expected better from. Please, let me assure you that I have no tolerance for gossip. Her appointment was unusual– but of course these are unusual times– and there’s no question about her ability.”

“This is good to hear,” he said amiably, and observed her relax just a fraction. “It is a distraction from more important things. Danger close by, and from within.”

“You think that there are still traitors in my department?” she asked. Once again probing for more information and leverage she could use in her quest to maintain control. Desperate to escape her own failures.

“For your sake, Director,” he told her politely, pleased to see the weight settle back on her shoulders. “I hope not.”

#my fic #wip #<- I guess although I probably won't end up using it #susan abernathy #goddddd why do I have to write all the bits of the story before the ridiculous deadly office drama

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watching-pictures-move · 1 year ago

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Movie Review | I Know What You Did Last Summer (Gillespie, 1997)

It’s been a year since that fateful event, when the characters covered up a hit and run and swore to take this horrible secret with them to the grave. They have drifted apart, as the currents of life have taken them down different streams. But a mysterious letter has brought them back together. Jennifer Love Hewitt. Sarah Michelle Gellar. Ryan Phillippe. And now, glimpsed on the dock like a small town Adonis, Freddie Prinze Jr., in a tight black tank top, baggy as hell cargo pants and a dangerous amount of product in his hair. We can talk about how fickle beauty standards can be regardless of gender, and I’d like to stress that this was considered the absolute peak of masculine beauty in 1997.

I bring this up not just to have a laugh at Prinze Jr.’s expense (although I won’t deny that was a motivating factor), but to position this is a temperature reading of the horror genre at that moment. The slasher film was the furthest from the grindhouse at this time, having shed the purely exploitative ethos of prior decades but before mean horror would make its return a few years later. Like in Scream, with whom this shares a screenwriter in Kevin Williamson, irony was in. These characters are at least nominally aware of other horror movies (The Silence of the Lambs is namechecked at one point). Dumb and horny teenagers are out. Snarky teenagers are in. This has appeared on the Criterion Channel as part of their High School Horror series, and I’d like to think it was chosen for its usefulness in this regard. Who knows, at the rate we’re going, maybe we’ll get a series with Urban Legends: Final Cut and American Psycho 2. Disreputable Shriekquels or something like that. Not judging, just observing. (I think their insistence on contextualizing movies has helped me get more out of what’s appeared on their service. So yes, I would 100% watch either of those were they to appear on the service.) Perhaps the appearance of Fleshtone on the service may have been a sign of things to come.

Not that any of this makes this a “good” movie. Despite the R-rating, the violence is strangely shied away from, frequently cut to neuter its impact, and the swooshing camera angles and slick studio style lacking the visceral impact of earlier, cruder slashers, not to mention the forcefulness Wes Craven brought to the Scream movies despite working in a similar aesthetic. I think this one’s failings are obvious in light of that other series, which creates the illusion of safety through the irony-laden dialogue and studio production values, only to snatch it away with the ruthless, full-bodied violence that it metes out. The sense of irony here feels more a symptom of ‘90s cinema, when characters were in the habit of talking fast and making references, than anything that’s really engaged with on the thematic level.

There’s also a sense of the dead-end realities of small town realities, with at least one character reintroduced with a much more humble fate than she’s envisioned, but this also feels a little undercooked. (The choice of a fishing village also feels like a transparent element to work in the hook hand urban legend element.) You can look at something like My Bloody Valentine and see how this element could have been better fleshed out. I will also say that despite my comments on Prinze Jr.’s getup, I found the performances relatively appealing. I didn’t see this movie until now and have no strong connection to anything else these actors have done, but as they were more or less “it” for a few years when I was growing up, I can’t help but feel a certain secondhand nostalgia. I also found it pretty funny when Phillippe incriminated himself by beating up the guy from The Big Bang Theory. Not the guy everybody loves or hates (depending on how you land on the show), the other guy. (On a side note, I once had a coworker compare me to Sheldon Cooper. I lied and pretended not to know who that was. Died a little on the inside that day.) For all my qualms, I found this pretty inoffensive.

I do think there’s something interesting with the way this movie frames the slasher’s motivation. The genre has often been accused of moralizing thanks to the juxtaposition of sex and violence, but here, the protagonists are targeted precisely because of their guilt, their direct complicity in the instigating incident. You compare this to the original Friday the 13th and Nightmare on Elm Street, where the villains avenge wrongdoings on characters they hold guilty by proxy, or any number of other slashers where the relationship between motivation and victim is even more tenuous. In one situation, the characters are targeted for their actions, who they are and what they did. In the other, the characters are denied even that agency. The violence is totally senseless. For all the flak that ‘80s slashers were given for their cardboard cutout characters, I know which dynamic I find scarier.

#film #movie review #i know what you did last summer #jim gillespie

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carmen-fics-for-thee · 1 year ago

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Series: A Date With Devineaux Part 1

The Deal - Grey x Tigress, Carmen x Chase

Summary: Grey knew about her feelings for a while. But if Tigress wanted to date him, she needed to be nice to Carmen. Easy peasy, right? (Genuinely think these two have good chemistry and want to explore the vibe they have. ...But will it work? Can a good boy tame an evil heart, or will disaster strike?)

...

She saw it when it was time to nab the stamp. That look in Carmen's eyes as she threatened the detective with her claws. Ooh, could this possibly be a crush...? Carmen didn't usually look so distressed when other innocent lives were at stake. Laughing, she'd decided to just steal the stamp in her own signature way. The way Carmen freaked out was just so... cute.

But the way Grey freaked out on her afterwards? Not so cute.

Months after he was de-brainwashed, she'd told him about how funny Carmen was.

"That girl is so kidding herself if she thinks that guy would ever fall for her!"

Grey glared at her.

"Dude, it's a crush. It doesn't have to make sense!"

Tigress chuckled.

"Still protecting Carmen? Come on. She stabbed us in the back. Why should we feel bad for her?"

He looked down and sighed.

"She was trying to do the right thing. She didn't know how ruthless they'd made us."

"Ughh! Why do you care so much anyway?"

Mm. A bad attitude. Grey knew how to fix that.

Reaching out, he held her hand. She didn't pull away.

"Tigress. She's like a sister to me. I saw someone who needed help and I helped her. Don't you have someone like that?"

She looked at him pitiably. There was a long silence.

"Oh."

Scoffing, she looked away bitterly. Hesitating for a moment, he took his hand and put it on her cheek, turning her face to look at him.

"Hey... It's okay. I can be there for you now."

She laughed. And she didn't know why. It was half-happy, half-insane.

"Grey, please. We all know how this is going to go. You'll be there for me now, but when Carmen comes along, all eyes will be on her. Only her..."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Hey, I promise to stay with you. You're the one I want, and even though I'm protective of her, I won't let that ruin us! I love you."

The words were out faster than he thought they would be. Tigress looked at him with a sad smile.

"I love you too."

They kissed, and no more words were said.

...

Tigress encountered Carmen while civillian shopping for clothes. Carmen was immediately suspicious, but she shrugged.

"Not everything I do has to be crime." She said nonchalantly. "Sometimes I want to get stuff legally; it's easier to relax."

"Then what are you doing here?! The mall that just got a showpiece of Britain's oldest crown jewels? Why not a different, smaller mall?"

Her eyebrow raised. It was tempting, yes...

She shrugged.

"I didn't even know that was here."

"Right."

"Honest! I didn't even know you'd be here. Nice getup, by the way. 2010 was a decade ago."

Carmen scoffed.

"Really? It's newer than whatever you're wearing."

Tigress laughed.

"Ooooo, looks like the Black Sheep can fight back~"

There was a ruckus down below. Extra security had been brought to the exhibit just in case V.I.L.E. tried anything. Among them was Chase Devineaux. Carmen gasped. If he was here, he could be harmed!

Also spotting him, Tigress looked smugly at her nails.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to scare you with another pickpocket."

Grey's voice in her head told her to be nice, but this was just too delicious to pass up!

Carmen scoffed.

"He doesn't even have anything valuable this time."

Pausing for a second, Tigress spoke what she felt was true.

"Only your heart."

"What?!"

Her eyes had widened in that same way as on the docks. Oh yes. Delightful.

"Don't worry. I won't tell him... In fact, I think you'd make a cute couple."

Carmen felt all the feelings inside her swirl around. She needed to sit down. She felt sick. Shaking her head, she looked away.

"I-I can't. He'd arrest me..."

Tigress tipped her head.

"What if he doesn't, though? Hm. Doesn't though. Kinda rhymes with Devineaux..."

Carmen thought for a while, her eyes still on the floor. Since she wasn't saying anything, Tigress decided to elaborate.

"...I know a guy. Real good disguises. Hey. Maybe we can dress you up for a date with him."

Looking up, there seemed to be a spark of hope in her eyes.

Smiling, Tigress patted Carmen on the back.

"Come on, I can take you to his shop."

She hesitated.

"W-why are you being so nice to me?"

Tigress shrugged.

"Grey's orders."

"Oh."

Carmen smiled.

"How is he, by the way?"

"Yeah, he's doing great! Really happy ever since we started going out!"

"Nice. Congrats."

She raised her hand slowly to shake Tigress'. Tigress was quick though, and shook her hand fast.

"Thanks. And you know, I think this could be a good thing for you. Haven't seen you all goo-goo eyed in a while." She joked. Carmen laughed.

It truly did seem like Tigress was trying to be kinder for Grey's benefit, and she appreciated that.

...

Back at headquarters, Tigress chuckled to herself. This was just perfect.

"Great plan, Walt!" She purred. "In the middle of the date, the disguise slips off, Inspector Devineaux realizes Carmen tricked him and arrests her, Carmen's heart shatters, and Grey is all ours!!"

"Are you sure that will work, ma'am?"

She snapped back.

"Of course I'm sure! Now, watch the magic happen."

Tigress' laughing voice echoed throughout the room, a sense of doom wafting in the air.

(End Part 1)

#carmen sandiego #Carmen sandiego 2019 #carchase #greytigress #chase devineaux #tigress #sheena #graham calloway #my writing

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cienie-isengardu · 2 years ago

Text

Etain sipped. The shig was citrus-flavored and kinder to her stomach than caf. "It's just such a shame that all that other data was... lost."

It felt too cruel to say blown to pieces by your crazy brother.

"Yeah," Mereel said, and squatted down next to her seat. He put his finger to his lips for silence and opened one of his belt pouches. Then he drew out a container, the kind that datachips were stored in, took her hand, and laid it on the little box. "Indeed."

"Mereel..."

"Don't you always do a backup, Etain? Tut tut..."

"Don't joke about this, Mereel." She was starting to get annoyed with him. Skirata had been mortified by it. "Is that what I think it is?"

"We might have behavioral problems, but we're not stupid. It is. All intact. Ordo meant what he said, but he didn't use the real set of chips."

Etain's ecstatic relief was instantly slapped down by recalling Skirata's face. "How could you do this to Kal? What if he'd had a seizure or something? He was devastated."

Mereel replaced the datachips and stood up. "I know, I know. Ordo and I argued over it, but it was the only way I could get Kal'buir to act like it was real. He's usually a great little actor, our buir, but he isn't always good at grief. Ko Sai would probably have spotted it."

"Poor man."

"I'll comm Ordo and let him know he can tell Kal'buir."

"Kal's going to be furious. He blames himself."

"Oh, Ord'ika can get away with murder. He's the number one son." Mereel went back to the datapad, and smiled again. "And it broke Ko Sai, didn't it?" [True Colors]

➦ Mereel is such a fine schemer but this passage makes me wonder, if his knack for manipulation and ruthlessness toward even his own family (Skirata) is actually connected to Skirata’s favoritism of Ordo (and maybe Kal’s general way to interact with people). Kal said to Etain in the same book “You can't have favorites. But [Ordo]'s probably the one I overprotect most, yes” so he may not see his attitude as having the favorite son but as a way to protect the one Null he perceived to need his attention/support the most - what may be relate to how Ordo is the more introverted Null than Mereel or other brothers.

But Mereel definitely see it in different light, as he literaly made a statement that “Ord'ika can get away with murder. He's the number one son”. In the context of his dialogue with Etain, Mereel’s words don't seem to be along the mindset Kal will understand and forgive us and sounds more like, Ordo will tell him the truth because Kal would never blame him for anything. Which to be honest, is awfully worrying to me, especially since True Colors also mentioned in Skirata’s POV that Ordo and Mereel “indulged in a little rivalry” that explained “Mereel's love of risk taking”. All because “he had to edge out of Ordo's shadow somehow”.

Of course, this does not necessarily mean Skirata went out of his way to treat Ordo better than his brothers but for sure there is quite a discrepancy between what Kal said to Etain and what Nulls feel. Ordo felt bad about being the first - and for some time, the only one - Null formally adopted by Skirata due to the implication of being the favorite son (“At least one cause for guilt had been lifted from Ordo's shoulders. He was no longer the only Null formally adopted by Skirata. It was a legal detail, nothing more, but Ordo didn't want to be singled out as the favorite. He already felt he had a far easier time than his brothers.” [O66]), Mereel’s opinion was already mentioned in above quote, then there was the “number one son” joke between all Nulls and the whole dynamic of six brothers brought by Imperial Commando: 501st:

Jaing laid his datapad on the table. "Oh good," he said. "I thought we were going to have a spat about Number One Son losing his place in the pecking order. Okay, what floor plans do we need?"

It had always been a joke, but Ordo wasn't sure it was so funny now. He'd been the informal alpha male of the brothers since infancy, and Skirata treated him as such. Mereel had always fallen into the sidekick role. In a family of six sons, it was inevitable that there'd be alliances and harmless rivalries. Now Ordo was starting to worry that they really did see him differently. The last thing he wanted was advantages that his brothers didn't have.

It is understandable that with six genius-like Nulls and 100 or 104 clone commandos to train at the same time, Kal could mess up here and there in the regard of Nulls’ upbringing. At the same time, it is worrying how differently he and his six sons look at the matter of favoritizing Ordo. For Skirata it wasn’t favoritism per se, just his protectiveness as Ordo worried him the most while for Mereel, Ordo could get away with anything regardless how furious Skirata would be - while at the same time implying(?), he doesn’t think this forgiveness also applies to him?

➦ Etain’s thought “It felt too cruel to say blown to pieces by your crazy brother.” is so... rude?. Like yeah, Ordo wasn’t at his best and news about Fi did not help much to improve his emotional state, but being angry and acting under strong emotion (for what it looked back then) is hardly the same as calling him crazy - a word that usually is associated with someone mentally deranged, especially as manifested in a wild or aggressive way. Dunno maybe my memory is just bad, but I don’t remember Etain thinking about Ordo or Nulls in general by outrightly calling them crazy before? Even during the previous scene, her POV described Ordo as “he walked a fine line between self-control and chaos far more often than anyone seemed to realize, and news of Fi's condition hadn't helped.” What hints Etain was aware of Ordo’s mental problems but she did not classified - insulted? - him as a crazy man. And yes, she was so devastated when Ordo supposedly destroyed the chip and that meant Darman’s chances for normal life dropped dramatically so this attitude could stream from that. But at the same time, the book series like to label people as psycho (Vau, Sev) and crazy (Arla Fett) and dunno, Etain’s remark, even if the one she kept to herself, feels more like an insult than a real worry about Ordo’s mental health.

#star wars #republic commando #etain tur mukan #mereel #ordo #kal skirata #kal skirata critically #just to be safe #My RepCom musing #there is so much to unpack about mereel's remark about ordo being the favorite son #though of course this does not mean kal would not forgive mereel if it was him who told the truth #it may be just mereel's own insecurity and so on #but some of nulls remarks toward kal #the supposed the best father doting on their sons that worry me about them #kal has his problematic habits and though i do not think he on purpose tries to hurt or manipulate his sons #we know he IS capable of doing so if he decides that was the best way to deal with problem #and why etain is now calling ordo the crazy? :(

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kaleidoscope77 · 3 years ago

Text

Amazing (NaLu One-shot)

Summary: Natsu and Lucy's monthly routine is interrupted by a seemingly harmless question.

Rated: T

Words: 1998

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"Lucy?" Natsu scanned the room for his blonde teammate, a little hint of worry on his face.

Mira had told him about how she came into the guildhall incredibly grumpy that morning, and she's been cooped up in her apartment for the rest of the day.

The girls advised him to give her space for a bit, and while Happy decided to heed their warnings and lay low, Natsu knew good and well what was going on.

"I'm in the kitchen!" The sound of Lucy's voice was enough to prove that his suspicions were correct, she sounded so out of it right now.

Natsu poked his head into the kitchen, and gave a sad smile at the sight of Lucy hunched over on the counter. "You okay?"

"Do I look okay?" Lucy grumbled, "Where have you been?"

"We just got back from a job yesterday," Natsu rolled his eyes, "I was sleepin'."

"...Well, I need you. Now."

"Hm… It's early."

"I know it's early. Just be glad it's not while we were on the job. Now c'mon," Lucy held her arms up, Natsu quickly getting the hint and scooping her up to carry her.

"Bed or couch?"

"Bed, please."

Just as she requested, Natsu brought her to the comfort of her bed and gave her a moment to get situated amongst the pillows before he joined her in laying down.

The two wrestled with the comforter for a bit before ultimately deciding to go without it, and as patience began to run thin, Lucy pulled Natsu closer by his scarf, bringing his body flush against hers.

"You know what to do," She mumbled, earning a quiet growl in response.

"Yeah, I know," Natsu didn't like being rushed, but he knew she had good reason to be impatient. He wrapped his arms around her abdomen and warmed up his hands, Lucy immediately sighing in pure bliss from the feeling.

"Ah, yes…" She snuggled back into him, leaving no space between their bodies, "I've been waiting… all day for this."

Natsu frowned, had he known she was in pain, he would've came over sooner. "Sorry."

"Don't be. Like you said, it came early this month. Hit me like a ton of bricks, though."

"Then you should get something to warm your belly up when I'm not around…"

"I actually do have a heating pad," Lucy turned around to face him, making sure his hands didn't lose their place over the source of her pain, "But your hands are so much better."

Natsu couldn't deny that he really liked hearing her prefer his magic over something else, but a part of him still felt bad. He didn't mind doing this every month, it was the only time Lucy allowed him to not only be in her bed, but to also be this close to her while doing so.

It's nice to feel like she depends on him, and to be able to do something for her that no one else can. And their alone time during these days are always nice, sometimes she'll fall asleep in his arms, and other times they'll pass the time by just talking about any and everything.

But, he still hated that she had to be in pain for them to get this… close.

"Thanks for always doing this for me, Natsu," Lucy smiled. He couldn't help but smile back at her.

"'S not like I got something better to do."

"Mhm," She wrapped her arms around his middle, now each of them holding the other tightly, "You're the best. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Me too."

"Really?"

"Yeah…"

"Aw, that's sweet," Lucy laid her head against Natsu's chest, closed her eyes and took in the peaceful moment. It was amazing to think about how she'd been in so much agony this morning, only for him to show up and relieve so much of the pain in seconds. She considers herself quite fortunate to be close with a fire mage like this. "...Do you think you could do this for me forever?"

"Of course," Natsu couldn't see how that could even be a question. He'll always be here for her when she needs him.

"You sure? Forever is a long time…"

"Yeah, it's not like it's hard to lay here with my hand on your stomach."

Lucy let out a quiet giggle, "That's not just it, though. Like, would you do it even in the distant future? When we're older?"

"...I don't see why not."

"Okay, and even when we go off and get married?"

"Uh, obviously… C'mon, I thought you were smarter than this, Luce."

"What? Don't start with that," She rolled her eyes, "Do you actually think our future spouses would be okay with us cuddling once month?"

Natsu stared at her, and when she didn't get a response, Lucy pulled away from his embrace to look into his eyes. He seemed genuinely confused, like there was something he was silently trying to wrap his head around.

"...Lucy."

"Yeah? You're thinking pretty hard there-"

"Why wouldn't it be okay for us to cuddle once a month?"

"Oh, c'mon. You know why," Lucy's face began to flush. It was obvious that these moments were pretty intimate, she'd only been ignoring it because her cramps are too ruthless for her to be worrying about that sort of thing.

But for him to be so confused, it was like he hadn't even noticed how close they are, and how close they've been since he started being her personal heating pad not too long after they met. Lucy assumed being able to lay with him like this was great progress in the direction she wished to go with him, but perhaps it's not reciprocated.

"Actually, nevermind. Just forget I asked-"

"Wait, I don't get why you think I'll stop doing this for you when we're married…"

"When we're-" Lucy shook her head, choosing to ignore his choice of words and the way they sounded, "Look, my future husband may not like you in my bed, holding me like this."

"...Yes I would, though? And you just asked me to do this for you forever, why would that change when you're my wife?"

It took a full minute for Lucy to process what he just said, and then another minute for her to replay it over and over in her head to make sure he really just said that.

Her face was bright red, burning nearly as hot as his hands on her stomach. "N-Natsu…" She willed herself not to stutter, but it was impossible with the way he looked at her.

"Yeah?"

"I didn't mean we'd be married to each other..!"

"What? Why?" Natsu's face broke out into a pout, and it was just the cutest thing.

Now, Lucy's heart felt like it'd just explode. "Oh my gosh! You seriously- I- I don't even-" She was at a lost, she'd been harboring these feelings for so long, just for him to blatantly admit something like that. "You… you'd wanna marry me?"

"Uh, duh?" This whole conversation had Natsu so confused, "We're basically already married anyway."

"W-what!? No we are not..!"

"We're not..?"

"No!"

"Oh…" Now the sadness on his face doubled, causing Lucy's heart to get tight.

"But…" She took in a deep breath. If he could say it so casually, she need to be upfront with him too, "I mean… I'm not opposed to being l-like… that with you…"

"Oh, so you're cool with it?"

"...Yeah, I'm c-cool with it."

"Cool. Now let's get married so you won't have to ask stupid questions like that!"

"Huh!?" Lucy squeaked when he began to sit up, stopping him before he could start carrying her, "Wait, lay back down!"

"Oh, right," He almost forgot about her current predicament, laying right back down and warming up his hands to offer her comfort. "We'll do it once you're done."

"Oh my gosh…" Lucy still wasn't convinced that this was real life right now, and that he was actually serious about this, "...We can't just go off and get married, Natsu."

"Huh? Says who?" Now he seemed to assume there was something coming in between them, the angry look on his face nearly making Lucy laugh.

"We aren't even dating yet…"

"...So?"

"So, we can't just get married when you haven't even… asked me on a date yet…" Lucy played with the loose ends of her hair, now refusing to look him in his eyes. It was easier to say these things knowing that he wants something like this, but it's still incredibly embarrassing.

"Oh."

"Y-yeah…"

The room fell back into silence, and Lucy let out an awkward cough when she realized he wasn't going to say anything more on the subject. "Uh, Natsu?"

"Hm?"

"...We can't get married before we start dating…"

"Yeah, I heard ya."

"...So, ask me on a date, silly!"

"Oh," Natsu had just assumed that was a rejection, he didn't know he could just ask like that, "Okay, uh, wanna go on a date?"

"I do!" As Lucy engulfed him in a big hug, Natsu's own heart began to flutter. She could be pretty confusing at times, but he was glad to have her right here.

"We can get married now, right?"

"Ugh," Lucy tightened the hug so she could hide her flushed face, "I don't know if you're doing this on purpose…"

He wasn't, but if it got her to react like this, he'd be sure to keep it up. "You're so weird."

"Me? You literally just assumed we'd get married! Imagine if I didn't feel the same…"

Natsu growled, he did not like imagining that. Besides, it was pretty obvious to him at this point, it's not like Lucy just let's anyone cuddle with her.

"And to answer your question- we can't get married now, that commitment takes time to think about."

"Eh? But I've had plenty of time…"

"...You've been thinking about it for that long?" Lucy's eyes sparkled, but she quickly brought herself back to reality, "I mean, no. That's something we'd need to discuss together in due time."

Still, Natsu couldn't understand why she'd want to wait so long, but if all she wants is time, he was willing to be patient. "Alright."

"Mhm. Leave it to you to wanna get married before we've even…"

"Hm? 'Before we've even' what?"

"...N-no, nevermind."

"C'mon, Lucy, I wanna know what else I gotta do."

"We, uh, we haven't had our first kiss…"

At the same time, they leaned back to gouge the other's expression, their eyes darting to each other's lips.

Lucy stifled an awkward laugh as she saw the look on Natsu's face, "Oh my gosh, are you blushing?"

He huffed, she was acting like her face isn't bright red right now. Before Lucy could convince herself that she shouldn't have said that, Natsu cupped her cheek and inched closer, her face heating up with each second.

Lucy knew he'd go for it as soon as she said that, and she fought the urge to cowar away when his lips came down to meet hers.

The kiss was quick and clumsy, but it had Natsu grinning against her lips and puffing out his chest in pride.

Lucy let herself giggle once they separated, she was overcome with giddiness and excitement. In her head, things would've been more romantic than an awkward confession in her bed while she's battling period cramps, but that doesn't matter right now.

"Can we kiss again?" Natsu mumbled, already leaning towards her lips.

Lucy answered by closing in the space between them, crashing her lips onto his and deepening the kiss.

Her hands ran along his body, feeling him up and down and enjoying every second before they had to separate for air.

"...Amazing," Lucy mumbled, though it wasn't like she had anything to base the kiss on.

Natsu was in the same boat, and he was actually more concerned about kissing her some more. "Yeah… Amazing."

#ft nalu #fairy tail #lucy heartifilla #nalu #nalu fairytail #natsu dragneel #nalu fluff #fanfic #oneshot #nalu fanfic #natsu x lucy

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hotwings0203 · 4 years ago

Text

Gilded Cage

A/N: It’s embarrassing how long this took but oh well, happy new year to everyone and I hope you enjoy scummy yandere hawks!

Warnings: dubcon, kidnapping, abuse, toxic relationships, degradation, yandere themes

************

At first she welcomed the bright flashing lights like a breath of fresh air, but in due time it made her throat close up like the rest of the situation.

He had agreed to let her out if she behaved, and that meant no biting, scratching, screaming, flinching, temper tantrums, and worst of all, no silent treatment.

And she would take it like a champ if it meant seeing any other person in 6 months.

He had kept her here like a flightless bird in this cage of theirs, and oh how ironic it was that she was succumbed to be the prey of this ruthless hawk, with him able to soar amongst the people and buildings while Y/n stayed perched in the house, her ever-growing wings mentally becoming too much for her to control and stay silent about.

She needed space, she wanted to leave, but she didn’t dare voicing any of her wants, especially when Keigo made it so clear how her meager wants were of no match for his needs.

And his needs, as he’s made so clear thus far, include her being a pliant, quiet, yet loving little birdie who cooks, cleans, and lays with him day and night without complaint.

God forbid she speaks up about her...living conditions, as he liked to so generously supply to her the first and last time she ever had this conversation with him. She tried telling him how she originally had loved their relationship of a couple of months, and sure it might have been weird for him to push her into moving in with him only after 3 months, but it was because of how much he loved her or so he said at least, when he bashed her head repeatedly on the ground when she told him it “wasn’t normal to rush into things so fast”.

Sure, he had a big spacious penthouse lent to him by the Hero Commission so being physically cramped was never a problem, and yes okay he showered her with gifts and little trinkets, just like birds did with their mates even more so after a big fight that usually left her black and blue, with swollen lips, ripped up knees and big red welts on her wrists while the hero himself was left with not even a feather out of place.

But there were days where their movie nights and cuddling sessions didn’t cut it for her anymore. There were nights when she couldn’t take his suffocating arms around her a second longer, only to be replaced by an even heavier and darker presence when she tried turning on her side away from him.

Sometimes it would be a chain reaction caused by the smallest of catalysts, however. It would be on a day where he left the restraints on a little too tightly, and Y/n was forced to use toothpaste on her wrists instead of the salve Keigo always kept in the medicine closet. Other times it would happen when he would keep feeling up her sides and pressing into her after a long day of her cooking in hopes that the plentiful food would be enough to keep him occupied away from her, even if it was for an hour or two.

It never was, though. He always wanted her, whether it was her scent, her presence, or her clothes that he kept in his pockets on his missions.

On those days, the days where she felt too much Keigo, too many feathers and too much Hawks was when she snapped.

Down would go the plates, the expensive wine glasses, the vases filled with flowers sent by hundreds of fangirls who knew nothing about the monster that he actually was. She’d tear out her mussed hair, red-faced with tears that ruined her makeup the makeup that she liked to wear on these types of days just to piss him off, knowing that he thought “excess makeup is for whores and catfishes. I already know you’re a whore, well, my whore, but you’re not even good enough at applying makeup to be deemed a catfish so don’t even try it hummingbird” while screaming in his face to let go, for the love of god Hawks PLEASE let me go I want to go home I don’t want this anymore I don’t want YOU anymore this isn’t working out I don’t love you-

And crack would be the sound of his palm across her face, knocking her to the floor. On these types of days he wouldn’t even think she deserved a change in facial expression, staring down at her pathetic trembling body while his lips were set in a subtle casual smile, his hands stuffed in his pockets as if he never raised an arm a second ago, and his eyes remained golden and neutral, the only indication of him processing her tantrum was the black glint in his pupils that dilated every time she gasped and sobbed on the floor.

To ensure that his precious, oh-so fragile lovebird wouldn’t hurt herself any further with her stupidity, he’d crouch down inches away from her face and cock his head slightly as a real bird would do. He’d reach out and lift her chin to face him while his other hand would snake up her thigh to try and console her which only succeeded in making her shake and breath unevenly.

Leaning forward to ghost his lips over the shell of her ear, he’d relish in the way her mouth would part in terror as he would lovingly whisper every threat of what he’d do to her the next time she wanted to be like a brat, because god help her if she thought he couldn’t tame a brat after dealing with a lifetime of villains.

It was almost laughable, how easy she was to silence. He didn’t even need to use feathers to pull her to her feet when he would tell her to go to the bed and get on all fours like the bitch she was.

She had to earn her way back into being his good, obedient little dove, on days like these.

But after these days would pass and she would indeed realign with his expectations, he would reward her greatly.

Never like this, though.

Y/n is brought to the present again as another flash of light from the paparazzi snaps her out of her daze. As the spots begin to fade from her vision, she sees Keigo in front of her adorning his trademark “for the fans-only” grin, although Y/n would call it a sleazy smile, the same smile he would give her before he signaled his feathers to cut deep into her feet so she’d stop kicking at him as he dragged her on the floor and feels him squeeze her hand a little too tightly to be dubbed as endearing.

“Stop zoning out on me, you look like a ditz”, he hisses through his teeth, his grin now resembling more of a bared-teeth look.

She tries to try to fix her face and pull the corners of her mouth up, attempting to also brighten her eyes and looking interested at the blond interviewer who was now conversing with Hawks about his recent team-up with Endeavor. It takes every ounce of self-restraint to not shove past the phony smiles and flashy attire enveloping her and waltz down the red carpet to the doors of the gala. She thinks if she hears him utter another word about how he’s so incredibly blessed to have the love and support of my fans, family, and most importantly, my girlfriend who has stuck by my side through thick and thin, she’ll puke on the bedazzled yellow dress the interviewer has on.

As if. He’d probably whisk her off to the nearest bathroom and pummel her on the floor right then and there just for being distracted, but not before fucking her as well.

She feels Hawks nudge her side, and on cue she darts her head up and really plasters on a blinding smile as she focuses on the question that was just asked to her.

“Sorry, what was that? I think I got distracted by your outfit, you look lovely tonight, an absolute catch.” She winks for good measure, just to salvage the damage of ignoring the conversation and Keigo’s tight-lipped smile, which was beginning to soften.

Bingo.

“Oh you’re so sweet! I can see why Mr. Number Two here swooped in to take such a cutie like yourself.” The interviewer giggled, twirling a golden lock around her finger. “But no worries, I was just saying you should come make a public appearance more often! I mean, the media barely gets to see you with Hawks intimately, it would be a great excuse to get all glammed-up as well...I mean, if Hawks here hasn’t got his talons sunk too deep into you.” She laughs shrilly and doesn’t notice how both Y/n and Keigo tense up at her insinuation.

Yeah lady, you’re not too far from the truth. The last time I tried to look nice and go outside, I was bedridden for a week and a half while nursing frozen peas over 7 different parts of my body, inside and out.

But if Keigo can bullshit more than he can tell the truth, then so could she.

She laughs warmly and places her hand on his shoulder lightly, just to sell the “supportive girlfriend” look.

“Well, I really would love to come out and show my support for him more often, but we’ve both agreed that with all the publicity anyways, it’s just too much pressure for me to deal with. I’d rather just stick with what I know and keep it hush between him and I.” She turns her gaze to Keigo now, superficially giving him a puppy-in-love look but discreetly seeking his approval if what she said was the correct thing or not.

He merely gave her an amused smile, as if to say damn, wasn’t expecting that answer but I guess it’s fine. Yeah. Two can play at that game.

Pleased with her answer, the blond bimbo turns on her heel and sashays away, leaving the couple by themselves.

Keigo gives Y/n a side eye and cautiously holds out his elbow for her to take. A peace offering for the meantime, just to reward her for the quick save.

Don’t fuck this up for me, or you’ll regret it tenfold when we get back home.

“Shall we?” He waits for her to oblige, and of course she does.

Arm-in arm, they gracefully walk down the red carpet towards the gold plated doors. Upon entering, Y/n’s breath is taken away at the grand hall, with red banners hanging from the balconies that had navy blue and gold words of praise for the heroes engraved in the silk. Hundreds of pro heroes filled the room, much more than what she was used to from only interacting with her captor for months.

Guiding her over to the long granite bar, Keigo squeezes her arm before lightly dropping it. Before she can move, he stands directly in front of her and his vermillion wings unfurl and slightly surround the two of them, creating their own little space. To others, it might’ve just looked like two lovers embracing each other and having their own little moment. Y/N knew better, however, and suspected he had ulterior motives.

She was right.

“I’m gonna leave you here for a few minutes, ‘kay? I don’t want you moving from here,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and she had to suppress a shudder at his unwanted proximity. “The feather stays on, and I better not see or hear anything funny while I’m away.”

She nodded and touched her necklace that was indeed laced with one of his feathers, remembering the deal he made when he agreed to let you out for the day.

Ah yes, the dreaded feather.

When she had approached him on shaking legs two days prior, Hawks was brushing his hair in the bathroom, keen on meticulously keeping it styled and ruffed up in the morning. It was one of the things that Y/N would begrudgingly say was one of his finest features, along with his natural eyeliner-shaped markings and rugged yet handsome facial features.

On good days, she liked to lightly trace her fingers and across his sharp jawline and feel the stubble growing on his blushed face. She’d try to stop immediately however, when he’d open his eyes and catch her hand, moving it across his body much to her chagrin and down to his-

She had stood outside the door, fumbling with the hem of her thin nightie and desperately trying to pull the short material past her bare thighs as she mustered up the courage to bring up her proposition.

Keigo slowly ceased his brushing when he saw the meek little thing quivering outside his door, and he quirked up an amused eyebrow. He braced both arms on either side of the sink, and let out a light exhale, before addressing her.

“Something wrong hummingbird?”

She dragged her eyes from the floor up to his dilated golden irises, and blurted out what she had been rehearsing in her head for the past couple of days:

“DoyouthinkIcouldcomewithyoutothegala?”

“Huh?” he snickered, thoroughly bewildered by what incomprehensible nonsense she had stuttered out.

Y/N bit her lip and took in a shaky breath, strike one, she fumbled her first try.

“Haw- uh, Keigo,” she corrected quickly. He preferred her using his first name, his real name. He claimed it made things more intimate between them as if carving his name on her back hadn't been enough to seal their “intimacy’-she didn’t need to be told twice what to call him by after that day “I was wondering...if I’m good and I don’t give you a hard time, can I come with you to the hero's gala?”

Keigo’s brow furrowed slightly, and he cocked his head to the side like a real bird. He seemed to be contemplating it.

“Alright,” he conceded after a couple seconds. “If, and I mean if you listen to me and don’t try any funny business while we’re there I’ll let you tag along.”

Y/N darted her eyes up to him, hope swimming in her heart.

“But you have to wear the feather.”

She immediately blanched.

A major inconvenience that she had come to terms with in the duration of her stay with him had been his stupid fucking feathers that layed oh-so-casually around the floor where she walked and coincidentally clinging to her clothes wherever she went out of Keigo’s eyesight, even though she was trapped on the same floor with him.

They had special properties; they could detect any movement, sense any vibration whenever he called for it. This made for a perfect tracker for Y/N in terms of whenever he wanted an update on her heartbeat, her mood, her whereabouts, and anything in between.

Yes, it was suffocating. But she would much rather it only be a suffocating feeling rather than him actually directing hundreds of feathers to surround her and hold her down on the bed or floor to do whatever he wanted with her in any position he pleased.

She didn’t dare complain to his face, however. She’d grit her teeth, grin and bear it, listen to every whim he demanded of her if it meant one night of superficial normalcy.

And so she put on her best behavior on the days leading up to the main event. She made dozens of dishes that circulated around chicken (his favorite binge food), she let them have “cuddle time”, with no complaints whatsoever when he insisted on bathing her and dressing her up in stupid pink frilly skirts, and she even gave him little subtle looks with a batting of her eyelashes when he looked down fondly at her good mannerisms and praised her for being such a sweet little birdie.

Eventually, her acting paid off and on the morning of the gala she was merited with a silk red dress that stopped at her upper thigh, ornamented with gold earrings and a 12K necklace to really sell off the look-which was of course wrapped around one of his feathers. Hawks had even hired a makeup artist who was instructed to not ask or say anything to Y/N save for questions about the products, much to her pleasant surprise.

She was still reminded of how much she had to grovel for him every time he rewarded her that afternoon.

“You look stunning, chickadee,” Keigo leaned against the dresser with his arms crossed, and smiled warmly at Y/N. “You’re making her look like a real model, maybe she should take over my job instead. Or, actually, maybe you could stop by my agency and make me all pretty for my next photoshoot.” He directed this last tease at the makeup artist and winked, causing the oblivious employee to giggle and blush.

Ugh, barf. He’s even a sleaze when I’m right here.

Y/N feigned a roll of her eyes, which didn’t go unnoticed by the hero. She could feel his dilated eyes boring into her the rest of the 15 minutes of touch-ups. Eventually everything was done, and Hawks left praise after shameless praise fall from his lips and onto the poor fangirl’s heart as he guided her out the door, a hand on her lower back as he did so.

She took the opportunity to get up and walk to the full-length mirror, admiring how she looked for the first time in ages. Gone were the multi-colored marks that decorated her body as if she were nothing more than a mere canvas for her painter to use. Her eyes seemed a little brighter too, and it wasn’t just the makeup that caused it. She stood a little straighter and squared her shoulders, her chin tilted up more than before while she stared at her reflection. She didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror, and she liked it for once.

It was ridiculous, she knew it was to feel so vain but she couldn’t help but bask in her potential freedom for just one night. She looked gorgeous, she felt confident, and she had earned it all on her own.

Cocking her head to the side, she tried to practice a couple smiles to be camera-ready for when the time came. She turned the corners of her lips up, then showed her teeth, and even tried fluffing her hair up sensually. Biting her lip slightly, she threw her head back, causing her curled locks to bounce and lowered her eyelids to look sexy. She giggled at her own stupidity and poses, completely unaware that a certain winged-man had entered the room and leaned against the door for the past couple of minutes, simply watching the little show she put on.

“That's quite a look you’ve got there hun, why don’t you make those faces more often with me?”

She immediately froze, her breath hitching. She didn’t dare look at him in the eye from the mirror.

“I mean, I’m the only one who should be seeing such a slutty expression anyways, right?” He said ever-so casually, hands in his pockets as he slowly strolled up behind her, and she couldn’t help but think as her eyes darted up to meet him in the mirror that the sadistic shit-eating grin on his face didn’t suit so well with his god-like features.

She visibly wilted, her shoulders hunched and head down in contrast to the tall, powerful woman she had felt like mere seconds ago. Her breath quickened as he leaned over her shoulder, grazing his teeth over the sensitive part under her ear, and she bit her lip harshly to stop the squeak that threatened to escape her trembling lips.

“If I had known that a pretty dress and some makeup would make you act like a wanton little whore, I would’ve done this wayyy sooner. I guess you really are just another dumb bimbo bitch who does anything she’s told if she gets to feel important for a night.” He whispered in her ear, resting his head on her shoulder and looking up at her with innocent eyes, ones that imitated the mocking tone of voice he used.

It seemed like he wanted her to feel disgusting, to wilt under his cruel words that he used like knives-knives that were sharpened with his tone and body language, knives that were so intimately and carefully chosen. They worded so that they were used to their full extent to cut and carve through her heart.

“Is that what you are my little songbird, hmm? You wanna be a pretty baby and have everyone’s attention on you? I’m hurt, here I was thinking I was enough for you.” He pouted, and with every word he spoke the grip his hands had around her waist tightened.

She tried to protest but he plowed through her pitiful attempts.

“Hell, if you want some attention so bad and whore yourself out, I should call over some friends! Yeah, we can skip tonight’s gala, would you like that songbird? For me to share you with my friends so they can satiate your whorish needs?” And at his he shook her lightly, his grip around her middle choking her and cutting off her circulation. “N-no, Hawks,” she wheezed out. “I just... liked my makeup, that’s it. I only want you, I promise. I won’t cause any trouble tonight, please don’t call any friends over.”

She looked up at him in the mirror with eyes the size of saucers, blinking away tears and trying her best to show how apologetic she was at her audacity to feel good about herself.

He loosened his arms and straightened up, peering down at her disgustedly. He had absolutely no regrets about the way she sucked in air immediately when he relented, or about the way she frantically brushed the tears from her eyes, trying to preserve her mascara from running. (not that he would’ve minded). She needed to learn her lesson; he controlled her highs and lows. Only he had the permission of holding her fragile emotions in the palm of his hand, and if she didn't want that palm turning into a fist and breaking her, she would do well not to piss him off and treading carefully about flaunting what was meant for his eyes only.

She wanted to lock herself in the bathroom and cry out to her heart's content from being embarrassed and degraded like this. She kept absolutely still however, when she felt his hands lightly tracing the feather on her collarbones. It was an unspoken threat, and when their eyes met once again in the mirror, the way he sized her up confirmed it.

The feather stayed on.

Which brought her back to the present.

Y/N had already downed 3 glasses of champagne while reminiscing about earlier today, something Hawks would’ve surely tutted at. Finding herself bored, she meandered around the bar, keeping close to where he left her.

She scanned the room for her ‘lover’ and found him laughing with a group of his friends, his head thrown back and the charming sound of his deep yet lilted voice carrying through the hall, entrapping anyone who was around.

He certainly had presence, no sense in denying it.

Any girl would’ve been crazy to deny him, and Y/N wished that Hawks had fallen for a girl that didn’t want to deny him out of his hundreds of fangirls a point that was set in stone in Y/N’s mind when she saw a tall brunette clinging to his arm while she shrieked with laughter at whatever stupid story Hawks was telling.

Said fangirl seemed to also have been put under his contagious spell, from the way she so obviously threw herself on his arm and pushed her chest against his side under the pretense of shaking with laughter. Various other parts of her body seemed to be shaking against him too, but he didn’t seem to mind based on the smirk he quickly looked down at her with.

For the second time that night, Y/N wanted to throw up.

Was it jealousy? Negative. Rather, it was frustration that he literally had girls throwing themselves at him, tits hanging out and all but yet he wanted what he knew he couldn’t have. She assumed that it was this mentality of his that landed him at being Number 2, chasing after the seemingly impossible until it was tangible.

It was easier on some days to try to understand his point of view. It was much better than getting lost in the hours pondering what kind of bad karma she inherited from a past life to go through this hell. But on some mornings when she felt stone-cold sober, she remembered that she was a person, not some objective or conquest that he had rightfully won. Deciding to try and take her mind off from the trainwreck that was unfolding in front of her, Y/N aimlessly wandered to the side of the bar and down a grand hallway that was less crowded and had less Hawks.

On either side of the hall, giant bronze frames held the portraits of past heroes and had little scriptures of their accomplishments. Hawks had always talked about how he wanted his name up there, and how one day he was going to do something incredible to have his own face up on the hall of fame. His idol, Endeavor, already has taken place on the wall right next to All Might’s frame, and Y/N looks up and ponders at both of their pictures.

And how befitting is it, that Hawk’s idol is also accused of a sinister and tumultuous family past.

Maybe he doesn’t need to work too hard to follow in the footsteps of the number one hero.

“Quite the hero, Endeavor is. Even though there is controversy about the nature of his past and his redemption efforts, he set many precedents as to how a true hero should act.” Y/N’s head snaps to the right where Edgeshot had just joined her. He wore a navy blue tux with red seams, his trademark mask covering the lower half of his face.

“Yeah, you’d think his admirers would try to follow in the footsteps of changing themselves too,” she muttered bitterly. “I’ve noticed his biggest fans seem to take after his more...old brutish traits rather than the better person he’s trying to be now.”

The masked hero laughed softly, and Y/N looked at him suspiciously.

“What, you don’t think heroes have their own fair share of flaws?” She challenged.

“No no, don’t get me wrong of course. I would be on an inappropriate level of naivety to assume that, considering I’m a part of the whole corrupt system itself. I think, however, that change within a person comes after an extended time of self-reflection. You have to look within yourself and accept that you were wrong in the first place, if you want to change.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment.

“Do you think the villains are ever right? About society brushing the flipside of heroism under the carpet, I mean. It doesn’t matter if the heroes are trying to save people because it's expected of them, if they aren’t actually compassionate about their cause then is there really a point?” She asked desperately, hoping he could understand her.

Edgeshot hesitated for a moment before answering.

“In my years of experience,” he said quietly, still looking up at Endeavor’s painting, “the ones who have at heart a solid reason for acting the way they do are most always justified. It may not always be a good reason, but a foundation always gives way to a justification that can be argued for.”

All of a sudden, Y/N gasped as white hot pain sliced through her sternum. She looked down and saw the red feather on her necklace quivering as a fine line of red sprouted from the cut it made.

“Are you alright?” Edgeshot asked, looking fairly alarmed, his hand reaching for her shoulder.

“Yes, of course! My necklace is just a little sharp, a little edge just nicked me that's all.” She said shrilly, already backing away from the concerned hero. Turning on her heel, she picked up the hem of her dress and tottered out of the hall, not paying any mind to the vermillion plumage that drifted down her chest, past her waist and eventually clinging onto her leg, making little nips and stabs here and there.

Blood was pounding through her head as she navigated the way back to where Hawks had left her to be. Her palms were sweaty and she was sure her hair was becoming messy as she whipped her head around, attempting to look past tall heads and bodies that blocked her way to the bar.

Shitshitshitshit god please don’t let him be there already please please please-

But it seemed as though god wasn’t in a merciful mood, because lo and behold, the raptor was leaning against the long granite island with a glass in his hand.

He seemed to be casually grinning, swirling a maroon substance in his cup and choking it down leisurely, but as Y/N drew closer she knew-as expected- he seemed off.

The smell of alcohol was nauseating around him, he must have been drinking something strong. His wings, although lightly flapping behind him, were pointed at the edges and shaking lightly. His eyes were completely dilated, and were shifting around the room until they settled on her meek figure rushing up to him.

“Hey there birdy, long time no see. Did you have a good chat with Edgeshot? I’m sure you both enjoyed talking shit about me behind my back.” Y/N winced at how charismatic and booming his laugh was after his ominous remark. It was too carefree, a complete cover-up of how she knew he was actually feeling, and that scared her the most.

“Hawks I-”

“Keigo, sweetheart, did you forget my name already after talking with just one person? Damn, I’m hurt, guess keeping you locked up at home was the right decision after all if you’re acting like such a stone-cold bitch now.”

She stared up at him, openmouthed and thoroughly panicked now. He was talking too much, he was going to expose himself and her-

Wait. Why is she covering for him? Wouldn’t it be better if he blabbed everything else so people could realize what he’s doing? Maybe someone would intervene and save her!

But it seemed like he was three steps ahead of her and had already figured that out, because his face flushed slightly and his eyes darkened and narrowed, with lips set in a flat line. When Y/N saw this change, she tried to back away but he quickly grabbed her hand and yanked her out the room and through the exit doors. It was all happening so fast, she could hear various people call out to Hawks but he plowed through them so fast that she didn’t have time to even process that they were out of the building and in the air.

She screamed as he soared to an even higher altitude, clinging onto his neck for dear life. The wind whipped past her face, stinging her cheeks with the frigid cold and water particles that embedded on her lashes. Hawks was laughing hysterically the entire time he gained height, his talons ripping through her dress and piercing her skin, even overlapping the previous cuts his feather had made earlier.

“S-stop, what’re you doing, are you fucking crazy?” She shrieked, her words losing volume as the air was ripped out of her lungs.

“KEIGO, its KEIGO you stupid fucking cunt!” he screamed in her face. His arms loosened around her waist, and suddenly Y/N was falling, falling, falling straight for the asphalt.

She couldn’t even turn her head as her limp body plummeted down for imminent death. Her lungs begged for oxygen, fear settling like lead in her stomach, but the second she closed her eyes for what she thought was the last time, (Hawks) Keigo swooped down and yanked her back into his sinister embrace by her hair.

Ignoring the ripping strands she felt in her skull, she flailed around in midair trying to grab onto something-she reached up to grab his foot but he noticed and kicked her square in the face. Y/N had never before felt such terror and pain, mentally or physically.

Damn her pride, she wants to live for god's sake.

“Keigo,” she sobbed, remembering just in time to use his real name lest he smash her teeth in again, “please put me down, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I talked to Edgeshot but I swear it wasn’t anything bad or about you.” The warm blood streaming down her nose began to harden on her upper lip from the chilly altitude they had reached.

Abruptly, he shifted his grip and pulled her up by her hair (she winced at that painful adjustment) so that he could hold her around her waist now.

They had to have been at least 200 or so feet in the air. The pair had cleared their way through some clouds and could clearly see the full moon right in front of them. It was deathly quiet except for Y/N’s labored breathing through her fractured nose, and her fear racked even further as she looked up at Hawks and realized that he was simply staring down at her with completely dilated eyes that narrowed and gleamed at her expression. He truly looked like a bird of prey right now, a predator that was forcing her to play the part of his prey, a point that solidified when he suddenly wrapped one hand around her throat to feel her heartbeat that thumped like a rabbits’.

The light from the moon reflected off his back, causing his front to be completely shadowed so that the contours of his sharp face seemed ever more looming and dangerous. Both of them stayed suspended in the air for a minute or two like that, Y/N not daring to speak unless he granted her a sign to repent.

After a long, painstakingly suspenseful minute of studying her face, he finally growled “We’re going home.”

It seemed to take only a mere couple of minutes for the Number Two hero to travel halfway across the city. Y/N barely had time to try and drink in the beautiful colors that accented the winding streets and buildings below her, knowing that it would most probably be a long time before she saw anything else that resembled freedom again.

He finally began to descend rapidly, forcing her to cling onto his jacket and shove her face into the crook of his neck to avoid getting whiplash. Peeking through her lashes, she recognized the balcony floor of his penthouse rushing underneath their feet. Dread and anxiety surged through her veins as he finally landed and postiviley threw her off of him and onto the wooden floor. She slid a good couple of feet and skinned her legs in the process, unable to stop her momentum as she slammed back into a lamp.

Dazed, she saw stars as she rubbed her aching head. Unfortunately she didn’t see him, rushing over to her the second she landed.

He grabbed her jaw tight and wrenched her bleary eyes to look up at him.

What he saw was beautiful.

A trembling mess beneath him, makeup runny and complemented with blood that flowed from her nose like an eternal stream. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the way she kept flinching any time he shifted; it made his pants tighten and caused his teeth to grit in what he measured to be the absolute last bits of self restraint he had for the night. He had truly ruined her, and he internally patted himself on the back at his work.

Was he mad? Yes, wholly and completely at her betrayal of his orders.

Did he regret losing his temper? Absolutely not. In fact, if you ask him, he should get mad at her more often like this. If it merited her pliant and vulnerable being, then who was he to deny such pleasure? Fuck he should’ve done this from the start- blowing up at mild disobediance instead of acting like a doting, patient boyfriend.

“You alive?” he roughly shook her head and her teeth chattered inside her skull while he did so.

“Yes,” she whispered, mouth popped open by his gloved fingers as he shoved a digit inside her warm and wet cavern. It was embarrassing how drool seeped through her lips and dribbled down her chin, but humility was the least concerning factor in her environment at the moment.

“Good. After acting like such a tramp you better fucking be. I told you one thing,” and he slapped her for added emphasis to his frustration, “can you repeat what I told you? Or are you so braindead that you can’t remember the one order I gave you when I trusted you to sit still and look pretty like a good little bitch?”

“Nnngh, no I rem-I remember.” Y/N panted out, attempting to talk through puckered lips and drool. “You told me to stay at the bar and not to move.”

“Exactly. So what part of that was so hard to understand, huh?” He hissed through his teeth, looking deranged.

“I just got bored, that’s all. I wanted to talk to another person…” Even though she didn’t finish her sentence, Hawks understood her perfectly.

I wanted to talk to another person apart from you.

He let out a mocking laugh, stretching his arms over his head to hide his shaking fists. Rage swept through his body like wildfire, licking up his throat and cheeks. His face was flushed and unreadable to Y/N as he sauntered around the couch and plopped down on it, spreading his legs to seem as uncouth as possible.

She sat shivering on the floor, unsure of if he wanted her to follow him or wither away on the floor like a mutt.

As he sighed loudly however, her body immediately tensed as though bracing for another painful impact. She daringly peeked over her shoulder and saw the back of his head protruding from the black and red leather couch. Lazily flicking his wrist up to a height where she could see, he vaguely beckoned her over without saying a word.

Immediately she scampered over to him and situated herself at his feet (where she belonged). Her eyes were downcast, and he begrudgingly accepted it as a form of submission on her part. No sense in beating the disobedience out of her now if she already knows what she did wrong.

Hawks heaved out another heavy sigh and let his head fall backwards. On one hand, he was slightly drunk and his head was killing him-he just wanted to go to sleep and forget today ever happened. However, there was a problem that was contributing to his growing migraine, and that problem was sitting right in front of him, practically kneeling at his feet for mercy. More than sleep, he wanted to take care of said issue and call it a night, so he decided to skip the sweet talk and warm up.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, kid. I’m gonna close my eyes and by the time I open them you better have already thought of a way to make tonight up to me, and you better have already put that plan in action. Then, we’re going to bed and when you wake up you’ll regret the day you even thought of talking to anyone apart from me, since you seem to have forgotten who’s been coddling your ass all this time.” He sneered, relishing at the way Y/N’s face went pale.

True to his word, he closed his eyes, glad to see his last view as the pathetic bitch who was about to service him. The feel of slight fumbling on his zipper made him feel even more drunk and giddy as it was pulled down. Maybe the entire evening wasn’t a complete wash after all.

Yeah, he should take her out a lot more.

#yandere hawks #yandere x y/n #bnha yandere #mha x reader #bnha #hawks x reader #hawks smut #hawks x y/n #bnha hawks #mha hawks #kidnapping #tw dubcon #mha #yandere #yandere hawks x reader

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flightlessangelwings · 4 years ago

Text

Grant a Name to a Buried and a Burning Flame ~ Chapter 1

Hades!Din Djarin x Persephone!Reader (gender neutral, no y/n)

Chapter 1/3

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Hades/Persephone retelling, historical setting, hints of soulmate AU, arranged marriage, slight angst, some fluff, mutual pining

Thank you to @ollypopp for letting me bounce ideas and talk my thoughts out and thank you to my wonderful partner @we-can-be-himbos for beta reading for me!

Moodboard made by me

“Persephone!”

You turned your head toward the voice that called your name. It wasn’t your birth name, but once you became of age you were assigned the name and your real name was never used in public anymore. No one remembered how or why it started, but it became tradition for every royal to assume the name of an Old God as a title and signifier of their status. Most took to it and even forgot their birth names, but you made sure that you used your real name when you were alone with yourself.

Some maybe wanted to forget and embrace their role in life, but you didn’t want to forget. If you were honest with yourself, you didn’t even want this role. But, you were born into it and as soon as you were old enough, you were prepared for the day you would lead your kingdom. You were good at it for sure, and leading came naturally to you, but you didn’t feel like this was your calling. You didn’t even feel like this was truly a home to you, even as beautiful as the land was.

The voice belonged to your mother, Demeter, who found you in the garden again. It’s where she usually found you: alone in the peace and quiet, surrounded by your favorite flowers. Flowers always lined your chiton and served as decorative accents to the long robe you typically wore. Sometimes, you even tucked one behind your ear as well. The beauty of the harvest and forests were one of the only comforts to your kingdom. Otherwise, it all just felt lonely to you, and like you didn’t truly belong there.

“Yes mother?” you rolled your eyes before you turned to face her. You already knew what she came to see you about and you dreaded it.

“Persephone you know you can’t spend all your time out here. You have responsibilities,” she always pushed your royal duties on you and then some, and you hated it. She always seemed more concerned for what you could offer her than what you were as a person, and it got under your skin more than you liked to admit.

You felt trapped in your role, in your kingdom. With a defeated sigh, you decided not to argue with her this time, “Yes mother.”

It was another several days before you could sneak out to your garden again, and you felt smothered every minute you stayed within the walls of the palace. It was lavish and beautiful, and the sun always shone through the windows, but you still felt suffocated. With a deep breath, you took in the fresh air and plucked your favorite flower from a nearby bush. As you exhaled you whispered your name, a habit you got yourself into so that you would never forget it. At times, your mother had trouble remembering her birth name, and you didn’t want that for yourself.

As you gazed down the horizon, you suddenly felt a pull to run past the gate that separated your palace and garden from the rest of the kingdom. It was as if a voice inside your head screamed at you to get out, to leave and never look back. You had heard that voice before, and you almost gave in several times. But you always stopped yourself just before you stepped over the threshold. Before you even realized your movements, you moved forward until your body lined up with the border.

Beyond the lush of your own kingdom lay a more barren land, and you could see the darkness shadow in the distance. It should have scared you, you should have wanted to stay away from it. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel a pull towards it instead. The kingdom in the distance was the complete opposite of yours: where yours was sunny and colorful, the other land was dark and dull. It looked as if the land was lifeless, though you knew it had a daily large population.

You looked back over your shoulder, and when you didn’t see anyone, you finally took the next step.

Once you started, you couldn’t stop and you ran as fast as you could. For the first time in your adult life, you felt free. Some of your flowers fell off in your haste, but plenty more still decorated your figure. The one that you had tucked behind your ear stayed somehow, and since it was your favorite you were grateful for that little comfort. The weight of your royal title felt far away, and you could just be you. Even as the darkness and emptiness of the land surrounded you more and more, you embraced it.

It was a quiet land, and you stayed in the forests and away from any villages to stay hidden. The trees were so dark they were almost black, and hardly any vegetation grew on them. You became more aware of how much you stood out here; a lone flower among the dirt, a lone light in the darkness. Nevertheless, you kept on the move.

Suddenly, you heard the sound of footsteps behind you, and you spun around to find that you were no longer alone in the dark forest. A hooded figure emerged from the shadows, and though it didn’t seem to move quickly, it still somehow ended up in your space before you realized it. You let out a gasp as the figure reached out and grabbed your arm, and even this close, you couldn’t see a face. The flower that was securely tucked behind your ear fell to the ground from your sudden harsh movement.

“What are you doing here?” the hooded figure asked. His voice was deep and gruff, yet void of any malice. His hood completely covered his face, and from this close you could see that he also donned a mask for added anonymity. On his belt, he carried several weapons, and the deep black sword especially stood out. You could also see the armor he wore over his robes glisten in the low light. This was obviously someone you did not want to mess with.

“I…” you were at a loss for words. What could you say? It wasn’t like you wanted to divulge who you were or that you ran away from your kingdom. But you also didn’t want to seem like someone who had gotten lost in the woods either.

“Aren’t you a long way from home… Persephone?” you heard the slight smirk in his voice. He kept a grip on your arm, but it didn’t feel like a threat for some reason.

Your eyes went wide; how did he know who you were? Maybe you should have grabbed a cloak or something so that your features were hidden, but it was too late for that now. Strangely, you didn’t feel as scared as you should have been around him. It almost felt as if the voice in your head that pulled you forward led you right to him. Was that how he found you too? Was there a voice that pulled him as well?

In the distance, you could hear the howls of wolves: the Cerberus. Legend had it that a pack of black-fured wolves guarded the border to the kingdom. Some would even say that it wasn’t even an entire wolf pack, but just three unusually large dogs. Those who have glimpsed it say that they move as one, appearing as if they were one large beast with three heads.

The hooded stranger took your silence as an answer on its own and ushered you through the forest and away from the howls, “Come with me,” he spoke in a low tone. He left it unsaid, but he felt an immediate need to protect you and keep you safe, and that started with getting you out of the darkened woods.

It felt like a whirlwind, and you couldn’t even react as he led you to an unknown destination. As the outline of a dark castle came into view, realization dawned on you and you figured out who had found you, “Hades…” you breathed out.

He let out a single sharp laugh, “You’re smarter than you look,” he replied.

Hades was both well known and a complete mystery to everyone, even other royals. His kingdom was shrouded in shadow, the night to the day that was your own kingdom. He had a reputation for being a loner, and he was ruthless to any enemy who stood in his way. And no one had ever seen his face. You wondered if he even remembered his real name or if he was among those who had forgotten it.

Rumor was that he belonged to an ancient sect, the Mandalorians if you remembered correctly, and it was part of their teachings to never show their faces, but no one knew for sure. For the most part, Hades’ kingdom, the Underworld as it was nicknamed, was left alone. And that was how everyone preferred it.

You tried to struggle, but his grip was too strong, and though he did not hold you hard enough to hurt, you still failed to break yourself free. How did you find yourself so easily taken by Hades? Technically you did run away and into his territory, so were you really his prisoner? He did not seem interested in harming you, but he did not seem to want to release you so easily either.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he seemed to sense your hesitation and in his words he spoke the truth. He would never hurt you, not when he just found you.

His words took you off guard and you looked into the blackness of his hood, “Then why don’t you let me go?” you offered back in as confident a voice as you could muster.

At that, he said nothing. You let out a dramatic sigh as you decided not to struggle for the time being. As your eyes darted around, you became increasingly aware of how much you contrasted your new surroundings. Everything was dark and plain compared to the robe adorned with flowers you wore. And yet, something about Hades’ palace was almost comforting in a strange way. Maybe it was because nothing about the castle was exactly lavish. It seemed to exist only for utility and not for show like your own palace was. It was much smaller than your own as well.

“Stay here,” he broke the silence as he left you in a small room and disappeared through the doorway.

There wasn’t much to the room, just a table with a bowl of fruits on it and a couple of chairs. As you eyed the bowl, your stomach started to growl and it dawned on you that you hadn’t eaten in some time. You looked around as you wondered if you should eat some of the food on the table. He had left you in a room with the bowl, which had to be on purpose, and he didn’t explicitly say that you couldn’t.

With a shrug, you decided that a little snack couldn’t hurt anybody. Besides, who knew how long you would be here? You grabbed the brightest thing on the table: a handful of pomegranate seeds. They were surprisingly tasty, and you wondered how something this luscious grew in such an unforgiving land.

You had no idea how long you stayed in that little room. It was hard to tell the difference between night and day in this kingdom, but eventually you relaxed into one of the chairs and drifted off.

When you woke up again, you were in a different room and laid out in a soft bed. You furrowed your brown in confusion before you shot up to stand. The room was small; there was only space for a bed and a dresser with a small bathroom attached. One thing that did catch your eye, however, was there was a single flower laid out on the dresser. Upon closer inspection, you noticed that it was your favorite: similar to the one you had tucked behind your ear when you first encountered Hades. But, you could tell it was not the same one.

“What…?” you whispered to yourself as you picked up the flower and rolled it gently in your hands.

Your thoughts were interrupted, however, when the door to the room suddenly burst open and Hades’ hooded figure stepped into the room. The two of you just stared at each other in silence for several long minutes. Your mind went in a thousand directions as you looked into the abyss of his face and you wondered what was going through his mind. Faintly, you also realized that the pull you had felt for so long as stopped now that he was in front of you.

“You like the flower?” he finally asked in a raspy voice.

“I… Yes,” you fiddled with it as you stuttered, surprised that the gift was from him.

He let out a soft laugh that you wouldn’t have heard had the room not been so quiet. It was a nice laugh, and it made you wonder if the rumors about him were all wrong. Sure he was an intimidating figure when you first met, but he seemed to be nothing but kind to you, even if he was your captor. Is that what he was? Ever since you left home, everything felt so strange and so upside down that you weren’t even sure about your current predicament. And yet, you didn’t feel afraid. This man was armed head to toe, and yet you felt completely safe with him.

“Follow me,” he broke the silence again as he stepped just outside the door.

You blinked a few times before you set the flower down and did as you were told, “How long was I asleep?” you asked as you fell into line a few steps behind him.

“All night,” he replied shortly. Both of you were silent after that.

He led you down a hallway into a larger chamber that was beautifully lit with candles. Your mouth hung open at the sight, and the light was a welcome warmth after all the darkness that engulfed you since you were brought here. A man in a white robe stood at an altar at the end of the room and it took you a moment to recognize that your mother and father stood nearby. Demeter had a sullen look on her face while your father remained stoic.

“What is going on?” you asked, since no one wanted to break the tense silence in the room.

“We’re getting married,” Hades replied matter-of-factly. When you just stared at him, he continued, “Your father arranged it so that we can unite our kingdoms in peace.”

You were too dumbfounded to say anything and the ceremony went by in a blur. It was mostly a formality, nothing special or extravagant. It wasn’t that you were opposed to marriage, but you certainly did not think you would end up married like this. Sure it happened at times to unite kingdoms or bring peace to warring lands, but you had been groomed since childhood to take over the throne yourself, not get married off.

“Why did you have to do this, Persephone?” Demeter shook your shoulders once the vows were exchanged, “Why couldn’t you just listen to me and do your duty? Why did you have to eat the seeds?” she berated you with questions and you wanted nothing more than to run away again.

Truthfully, you didn’t even think of the consequences when you ate the pomegranate seeds, but Hades had argued that since you ate food from his kingdom and accepted his gift of the flower that you were bound to his land now. But, he struck a deal with your father that you could return home for half of the year if you ruled the Underworld at his side.

Rage burned within you as your mind caught up to your body. You felt used and tricked, which you expected from your parents, but not from your newly found companion. Why did you hold him in a higher regard than them? You didn’t think too much about it and shook the thought from your head. You ran away to escape the life that was expected of you, not to fall further into it. With a huff, you stormed out of the chamber and back into the room that you had woken up in.

You slammed the door shut behind you and leaned back against it with your eyes closed as tears of anger slowly fell down your cheeks. With a few deep breaths to calm yourself, you opened your eyes again and almost immediately they landed on the flower. What was once a beautiful gift now became an ugly reminder of your situation. You stomped over and grabbed the flower harshly and opened the window to throw it out.

Just as you were about to swing your arm, however, you froze. For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You tightened your grip on the flower as you tried again to throw it out, and again you couldn’t do it. With a defeated huff, you tossed it onto the dresser instead and collapsed onto your bed.

Your bed?

You closed your eyes as you thought about what would happen next. A thousand questions ran through your mind. You could run away again, but where would you go? Was this any better than what you came from? Was it worse? Why did this Hades marry you so quickly after meeting once? Why were you more angry about not being consulted about this than being married to him? Why did you feel this pull to him? Did he feel that pull towards you?

Eventually your mind was able to quiet itself and you drifted off to sleep. Between your emotions and the way your mind raced, you found yourself exhausted already. And you just wanted to escape this realm for a little while and just dream. When you dreamed, you dreamed about him.

What you didn’t know, however, was that everything you had felt was reflected in the blank stare of Hades’ hood. He found you in the forest because he felt a pull towards you; a pull he had felt every time he looked in the direction of your kingdom. To finally see you in person was more than he could have asked for, and he was captivated by you immediately. You couldn’t see it, but underneath the hood, he had a look of pure adoration for you. And more nights than not, he dreamed of you. In those dreams too, you always used his real name: Din Djarin.

Notes: I hope y’all like what I came up with for this AU. I didn’t want to do a strait retelling and I took some creative liberties with this to make it unique. Chapters 2 and 3 are drafted and I’ll be updating this on Mondays so there won’t be a long wait for chapter 2. And I normally wouldn’t be specific about the pomegranates since not everyone likes them but since that’s a big part of the myth, I had to put it in here lol.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x you #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #din djaren x you

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crimsonophelia · 4 years ago

Note

Could I get a fluffy and maybe flirty Childe imagine set during his story quest? Instead of the Traveler and Paimon accompanying him, the reader (who works at the Northland Bank as one of Childe’s subordinates) gets slapped with the duty of babysitting Teucer and covering for Childe and his façade as a toy seller in Liyue.

"I must say that your brother is quite cute, sir."

"...I guess it must run in the family."

"Hm? Did you say something, comrade?"

"Oh. Um. Nothing, sir."

Of course, being the perceptive man he is, Childe heard all of what they said. What he ends up doing or saying to the reader? Seeing the magic you’ve worked when anon previously gave you the liberty of it, I leave it entirely up to you. :)

featuring: childe x gn!reader

warnings: a teeny bit suggestive at the end

published: april 27 2021

form: imagine

a/n: i’m gonna be real with you, i was stuck on ar35 for the longest time because i was too cowardly to level up my world so i finally did it today and i jumped from 35 to 41 T_T and now my enemies are stupidly strong. but anyways i just started the childe quest today so im just gonna stick to the part when they’re still in liyue and there’s no fighting wwww

“teucer, i swear to celestia-” you muttered under your breath, as the little redhead slipped from your grasp yet again, running ahead to go look at some kite vendors. “come back here, kid! otherwise you’re gonna be in a heck of a lot of trouble!”

earlier in the day, you were out running errands for the bank, under tartaglia’s orders, when you had come across rumors of a ruin guard running amok. figuring you would use your spare time and save some local liyue citizens the trouble of having to deal with the feral robot, you defeated the machine with efficient ease. however, in the vicinity, you discovered a lone child showing great excitement at a deactivated ruin guard, jumping and leaping while calling it “mr. cyclops” with a strange elation.

you figured the boy was snezhnayan, what with his features and clothing reminiscent of the cold climate of your homeland. but why in the world was he out by a ruin hunter all alone? he kept mentioning his brother, a toy seller in liyue, but you could think of absolutely nobody that fit that description.

so, out of the goodness of your own heart, you decided to take the little boy-- teucer, he called himself--back to liyue harbor with you, and see if you could find this older brother of his.

however, once you arrived back in the city, your plans were quickly derailed as the little brat seemed to have the attention span of a fruit fly, and was constantly trying to weasel his way into some other dangerous situation without you knowing.

“god dammit teucer”, you huffed, trying to keep up with the child. who let children have so much energy? your age must finally be catching up to you, you thought. “how about we go back to northland bank? you might like it there” you thought taking him back to your headquarters would stall the boy for enough time for you to find someone who might know the whereabouts of teucer’s brother. there weren’t too many snezhnayans in liyue--whoever his brother is, he can’t be far.

the little boy looked up at you with his big, blue puppy eyes, but you knew his act by now. “no buts, kid. if you’re lucky, we’ll be able to track down you’re brother there.” he sighed, relenting to your orders and following you back to northland bank.

the two of you climbed up the stairwell leading to the entrance of the bank on the second floor, teucer clearly dejected and pouting like a baby. exhausted, you pushed open the doors that you were so familiar with, and ushered the child inside.

much to your surprise, you see tartaglia talking with ekaterina in the lobby. it had been quite a while since you had seen your superior in person, and the surprise certainly was not unwelcome. sometimes you couldn’t stand the man’s smug attitude, yet there was something in his rogueish charisma that you simple couldnt deny attracted you to him.

teucer also seemed to be excited by this sighting of the red-headed harbinger, the little boy’s eyes lighting up with unbridled excitement.

“brother!”

wait. was tartaglia the older brother teucer had been talking about all along?

childe turned around, distracted by teucer’s voice, and upon seeing the little boy, his eyes lit up—first with surprise, then with confusion.

“teucer? what the heck are you doing here in liyue?”

he left the fatui agent with a befuddled look upon her face, and ran towards the child. teucer jumped up into his brother’s broad arms, and they grasped each other in a tight hug, like they had not seen each other for at least an eternity.

ruffling teucer’s hair, tartaglia softened, with an expression unlike anything you had really seen him wear before. he really must care about his family, you thought to yourself.

“so you’re the older brother this little tyke has been talking nonstop about”, you teased tartaglia, elbowing him in his side. “you know, he’s thrown me for a loop this entire day. i didnt think babysitting was part of the job requirement.”

the red-head chuckled abashedly, scratching his head. “sorry about that, [y/n]. the little guy can’t seem to bear being away from his favorite big brother.”

teucer laughed. he truly looked so happy to be with tartaglia again, which made you wonder what the harbinger was like when not on the job. you had known him to be a ruthless war machine, a hedonistic killer who thrived off of the rush battle and bloodshed gave him. childe could take down a dozen men, twice his size, in a matter of minutes, hardly breaking a sweat. yet seeing him interact with teucer, almost a little mini-sized version of himself, his gentleness and care surprised you. perhaps there was more to the man than you had initially thought.

teucer finally detaching himself from tartaglia, looked up at his brother with those same puppy eyes, now full of admiration. “are you here to sell toys to the liyue children, too?��, the child asked. toys? what toys could he possibly be referring to? you and ekaterina, both, looked at childe with confusion.

tartaglia stuttered for a moment. “oh! uhh— yes! yes i am! i was just talking with the nice lady, ms. ekaterina, on how many toys we can sell to all the children in liyue!” he responded, hardly missing a beat. did teucer not know what childe’s actual occupation was?

“wow! my brother really is the coolest person ever!” teucer leaped up and down, hanging onto tartaglia’s pantlegs. looking at this young, untainted innocence, you begun to understand why childe might try and shield the child from the truth.

childe detached the excitable child from his clothing, and beckoned ekaterina over. “ms. ekaterina, would you do me the grand favor of watching teucer for the rest of the day? i’d hate to burden our friend [y/n] after they have already brought him to liyue from celestia-knows-where.” he turns to teucer, telling him “big brother ajax is going to sell many, many toys now! so you need to behave yourself when i’m gone, okay? miss ekaterina will be watching you, and she’s very nice.” he pinches his brother’s cheek, teasing him lightly, and ushering him away with the fatui agent.

it’s now just you and tartaglia in the bank, as the sun was setting and all the other employees had gone home for the day. you heaved a sigh of relief, glad to be rid of baby-sitting duty, after having to deal with teucer’s antics for several hours now.

“i’m really sorry about all of that. i had no idea he would be coming, as a stowaway, no less.” the man looked at you with genuine gratitude. “i don’t want to imagine what might’ve happened to the little brat if you hadn’t been there.”

you chuckled, not quite used to seeing such sincerity coming from the harbinger. most of the time, you had been accustomed to his charismatic facade that he puts on when he becomes childe, the eleventh and one of the most dangerous members of the fatui harbingers.

“don’t worry, it really was no problem. your brother is certainly a handful, but undeniably adorable”, you said, mindlessly gathering your belongings again as you prepared to head out again. “he takes after his older brother quite a bit, i must say.”

“come again?” childe looked behind him, eyebrow cocked.

“oh— nothing. i didnt say anything”, you muttered. shit. you really need to get better at keeping your mouth shut. you refused to be known as the insolent fool with the puppy-love crush on the goddamn eleventh fatui harbinger.

“oh? that didnt really sound like nothing, my dear [y/n].” he smirked. whenever he called you “my dear”, you knew you were in for major teasing. he was definitely having fun with this. he strode towards you innocently, with that usual swagger of his, that tinted everything he did. his walk, his talk, his appearance all oozed confidence, and it was utterly intoxicating.

tartaglia now looked at you with a glint in his eye, the same look he gave enemies before he was about to utterly obliterate them. it was frightening, yet terribly alluring, and you despised how much you fell for it.

suddenly, you felt your back hit the cold, marble wall. you hadn’t even realized that tartaglia had cornered you against a gold pillar, his mere presence forcing you to unconsciously move away from him as he approached you, calculatedly. a lump growing in your throat, you couldn’t bring yourself to even utter a single word in defense, only feeling your cheeks grow hotter and your legs grow weaker.

tartaglia leaned his arm against the pillar, dangerously close to your head, effectively propping himself up with only you between him. you were far too aware of the space—or rather, the lack thereof—separating the two of you, the man’s hot breath audible in the dead, echoing silence of the golden bank.

tartaglia smirked, bringing his face close to yours. “you flatter me greatly, [y/n].” smirking, his breath grazed against your neck, his stare burning into your flesh. the way your name sounded on his lips made your breath hitched in your throat. too hot, you felt way too hot. it was impossible for a hydro user to make you feel such unbearable heat.

“seems as if your clever words aren’t of any use to you now, hmm?” you could feel the mans lips brushing against your jaw, each touch against you leaving a stinging trail. he brought his free hand to caress your own, fingers clasping yours as if you were made of a delicate porcelain, the finest kind liyue had to offer. slowly, as if dragging out each second as long as he could, tartaglia brought your hand to his lips, and planted a long, slow kiss to the back of your palm.

your eyes widened at the sheer eroticism with which he kissed your hand—an act commonly of etiquette somehow being much more lustful, even debauched when tartaglia did it. all you could feel was where his lips met your hand, the phantom burn it left, the slight string of saliva connecting his lips to your hand as he left it, the dark gaze in his eyes as he looked back up at you, clearly aware of how vulnerable you were in his grasp.

“thank you again, my dear. i hope we can continue to work together in the future.”

a/n: jesus christ this got really horny at the end LMFAO anyways i hope you like it! its kinda long but wtv

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin x reader #childe x reader #childe imagines #childe headcanons #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia headcanons #tartaglia imagines #childe x y/n #tartaglia x y/n

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kiribaku-queen · 4 years ago

Text

The Blood King and his Queen [9]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Romance, Angst, Drama

Word count: 2.8K

Summary: From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?

A/N: Ahhhh so sorry about the delay for this chapter!!! But hopefully you all were fed last week with my Bakugou Birthday Bash collab. But you guys are going to be fed again soon. Just you wait :) Happy Reading!

[previous] [next]

You turned over in your bed for the nth time that night. Something just wasn’t fitting right with you. The bed you were sleeping in was big enough for a family, the sheets were soft, the pillow was fluffy, servants were on standby if you needed something, water and snacks were on your bedside if you ever got hungry. So why couldn’t you fall asleep? You huffed, turning back over to try to get comfortable. There are times when you feel like you’re almost about to fall into a deep sleep and something just wakes you back up, making you wait for that long-awaited slumber.

After coming back to the palace from your long excursion, you were back to sleeping in separate bedrooms. Maybe that was why you couldn’t sleep. But it couldn’t be. You only slept with him a handful of times and all those times were purely accidental. You tried to find so many excuses so that wasn’t the case, but it actually might.

Bakugou groaned and plopped into bed. Why wasn’t he sleeping this late at night? This wasn’t normal. He was used to knocking out as soon as he touched his pillow but something was keeping him from doing just that.

He thought, no way. It couldn’t be because you weren’t here. The only reason he kept you in a different room from his is because you were a stranger at first. This marriage was only supposed to be a transactional trade: the princess would become a queen and Bakugou could rule both lands. He never expected to fall this deep for you, let alone fall for you at all.

Your room was right across the hall. Only a few steps away. Nothing was stopping him from going over to you this very moment. What if you didn’t want to see him? Then he would look foolish if he wanted to be with you but not the other way around. He didn’t want to look too desperate… fuck it. He could make up an excuse if he had to.

Jumping to his feet and swiftly removing himself from his sheets, he headed towards the door to go see you. What he didn’t know was that you were going to do the same thing. After a good minute of arguing to yourself, you grabbed a pillow and headed to his quarters.

You took a deep breath. You were standing right in front of his door, but now you started getting second thoughts. What if he didn’t want to see you? What if he was already sleeping? Then you’d be disturbing him and be troublesome. You’ve already gotten this far already, there was no point in turning back now. Right before you were about to put your hand on the handle, the door swung open, revealing wide-eyed Bakugou in your presence.

“Princess…” Bakugou choked on his words. He was surprised to see you already standing in front of his door. Had you been standing there long? But what was making him flustered was the fact that you held a large pillow in front of you, looking up at him with wide, yet cute eyes of yours. You were the definition of adorable in that moment and honestly, Bakugou didn’t know what to do with himself.

“W-What are y-you do-doing here,” Bakugou stuttered over his words.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admit, looking down shyly.

“I couldn’t either,” Bakugou also confessed. Awkward silence. It was only because both of you didn’t want to admit or say the real reason why you came to each other.

You were already in front of him, you couldn’t back out now. It would just be embarrassing if you just made a dumb excuse, only to go back to your room and then all would be for naught. Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes to prepare yourself for the worst, you blurted out the question that burned deep inside your heart.

“Can I sleep with you?”

“Will you sleep with me?” you both asked at the same time. Your eyes shot wide open and immediately looked up to see Bakugou with sincere in his eyes. A slight blush of embarrassment dusted his cheeks but wouldn’t – couldn’t – take his eyes off you.

“Yes.”

“Yes,” you both blurted out. The air between you was tense with desire for each other, so much so that if you didn’t look away, you would be sucked into those crimson eyes for a lifetime. Cutting the atmosphere abruptly, you cleared your throat and walked passed him in his room.

“So this is what the Great Blood Prince’s room looks like,” you joked, taking a look around the room. Nothing like what you had imagined. The red theme was expected but you weren’t expecting such a plain looking room. Nothing but a bed against the wall, a furniture here and there and a couple paintings on the wall. But still luxurious.

“Cozy,” you noted, turning around to say something else, but you were met with a powerful presence, Bakugou taking a step too close to you. You sharply gasped, your eyes automatically wanting to close shut to take him all in.

Something overcame Bakugou in that moment. Seeing you in his room. After hours. Nothing but a pillow and your silky nightgown. It was doing something to him and he couldn’t control this overwhelming feeling of want. He wanted you.

Your noses were practically touching, his lips just inches away from yours. Your heart pounded in your chest as you let out shaky breaths. Bakugou slowly wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close. You were about to close your eyes and submit to his touch but suddenly, the image of the princess’ face popped in your mind. You placed a hand on his chest, stopping your movements and his all together.

“What’s wrong?” Bakugou sounded so hurt by your abrupt actions.

“Sleepy,” you lied, quickly turning around and jumped into his bed, huddling under the sheets. Bakugou stood where he was, letting out a sigh of frustration. But the moment he looked at you and how comfortable you looked in his bed, all signs of frustration and disappointment disappeared. He wasn’t going to let this small rejection ruin his mood. He joined you in bed but you both kept to your side of the bed.

You couldn’t do it. You felt so guilty. Sure, you said that you were going to take the real princess’ spot. He doesn’t have to know that you aren’t the real princess, because once you became queen, she can’t touch you. But hiding these lies wasn’t like you. That’s not who you were. And so this lie was eating you alive. You had to tell him. But when?

You were up all night thinking about it. Talk about getting a good night’s rest. You thought having the prince by your side would help your restlessness, but now a new problem arose. The guilt wouldn’t stop eating at you, causing you to continue to stay up.

You felt a strong hold wrap around your waist and a warm body right up against your back. The male behind you exhaled, resting his forehead against your shoulder.

“Can’t sleep?” he spoke up.

“You could tell?” you asked, not surprised that you got caught.

“It’s hard not to when you keep changing positions” he chuckles in your ear. His light hearted laugh made you relax a bit.

“Tell me,” Bakugou started. “Do you still want to become my queen?”

“Of course. There’s no doubt in my mind,” you didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Even if it means that you’ll forever be bound to the infamous, killer Blood Prince?” You turned over to him and looked him dead in the eye.

“Even if it means that,” you whispered seriously. Now it was your turn to ask questions. “Now tell me, oh Prince. Why do you want to marry this princess?” you ask.

“Because. You’re kind, sweet, innocent. I need a queen like you to rule by my side so I can change my image as the Blood Prince,” he said. Now this was news to you.

“Change? I guess you are very different from your brothers…” you mumble.

“All because of those rumors. They aren’t entirely wrong though. My brothers and I are known for being ruthless. But I’m tired of keeping up this act of being angry and vicious all the time. I’ll slay anyone if I have to, but I’ve killed too many innocent people, just because I was ordered to. When I become King, I want to change the legend of the Bakugou family, that we’re not all killing monsters. I need a queen like you to help me find my way. I fight the way I do to keep my people safe, to save those in poverty and those who are homeless so they aren’t attacked by bandits. It needs to change and that change starts with me. You’ll help me right?” he looked at you willfully.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” you reassured him. For the first time, Bakugou deliberately smiles at you, a face you’ve only seen him make when he’s with his soldiers. He pulls you in, resting his chin on top of your head.

“Let’s sleep,” he ordered and you finally fell asleep in his arms.

The next couple days, you were busy helping prepare decorations for the upcoming ball the King was hosting in celebration of your engagement together. Bakugou, on the other hand, was too busy patrolling and doing princely stuff, that you had no idea what that was, that you barely saw him those couple days. You could see him at night, where you sleep over in his room, but by the time Bakugou comes back from his duties, you were already in dreamland.

Thankfully, you had company. You created a bond with the servant girls that are constantly with you every single day. After all, you were a servant girl who was pretending to be a princess, so it was a piece of cake talking to them. They were telling you all the gossip and even helping you with the ball since you were so bored doing nothing all day. Flowers were already picked out, food already decided, your dress was being custom made, guests were on their way here, decorations were being put up in the ballroom.

There were times when you and Bakugou would cross paths in the palace. The prince was busy walking with generals when passing by with your girls. You bit your lip in excitement but decided not to say anything since they were in deep conversation with each other. Yet, your eyes never left him, mesmerized by this working state. You thought Bakugou would be too busy to even notice you. Oh, no. When you came into his peripheral vision, he noticed your beauty right away. Though, he kept his eyes with the generals. When you got closer, that’s when he took a peek at you and seeing your excited face got him all giddy. He smirked at your cute expression when you passed and you didn’t miss that curl of his lips. Bakugou continued to walk off with the generals and your girls all squealed, hitting you in excitement.

During your down times, which was often, you came to the conclusion that you were going to study and read books to help you become a better Queen. The real princess had all her life to study and perfect her skills as a princess. Even though she was lazy and lacked a lot of those skills, you were just beginning and couldn’t compare to her level. You had to get to it if you were going to rule the kingdom by Bakugou’s side. Of course, you also had to keep it on the downlow so that no one becomes suspicious of you for learning the basics.

You picked up one book – a poetry book and read up on the classics. You were immersed by how lovely every line was, how beautiful the stories were written. You could see the love story translate into a movie across the page. But there was one part in the story that had you pay close attention to.

The two lovers looked up at the illuminating bullet across the clear sky

As they gazed into one another’s eyes

They could feel their hearts beat as one

Feeling as time stopped for them

The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?

I can die happy, the lover responded

As they can truly die happy

The beautiful scenery was enough to last them a lifetime of happiness

Tears welled in your eyes. Did you read that correctly? And did you remember correctly? Had Bakugou said that phrase to you one time? But what does that mean? Does that mean… impossible. It was probably only pure coincidence that he said that. There’s no way that he… right?

The usual reaction would that you would be over the moon. That would mean that you two share the same feelings for each other. But instead of feeling ecstatic, the guilt was eating at you even more.

Of course you were excited to see him every time he came home, when he got the chance. And he would spend every free moment with you. He’d tell you about his adventures outside the palace, what he did that day, his plans for when he becomes King, and much, much more. He never failed to initiate some form of contact with you, whether it be linking pinkies when taking a stroll or placing a hand on your lower back when talking to others. But because you couldn’t free your mind from this guilt, you were rejecting each and every one of his advancements.

This makes Bakugou frown. He keeps trying, thinking that maybe he was misunderstanding something or reading the situation wrong but you keep denying him.

Enough was enough.

You had just send your servants away, walking down the long hallway to get back to your room to rest. That is, until a hand comes out of nowhere, and pulls you into another hallway – a short, more narrow hallway that gives you a tight squeeze with two people. Bakugou trapped you between him and the wall, arms on either side of you.

“Your highness!” you exclaimed when you saw it was him. But he didn’t look too happy.

“What gives?” he asks, frowning at you. His expression reminded you of the time you first met him.

“What do you mean?” you asked, confused.

“Don’t play dumb with me. If you dislike me, just say it,” he said. But he was making things even more confusing for you.

“Why would you think that?”

“You’ve been avoiding me. Every time I try to be intimate with you, you reject me. Is it because we aren’t married yet? Or is it because you don’t have any interest in me?” he asks you.

“It’s not because of that at all!” you panicked, putting your hands up in defense. “I’ve never done this before, so I’m not sure what to do… and well, that’s actually something I need to tell-”

“Prove it,” Bakugou interrupts you.

“Huh?” your mind ran a blank all of a sudden, completely forgetting what you were supposed to say.

“You really don’t dislike me? Prove it,” he challenged. You stared up at his eyes and they were filled with hurt, confusion, betrayal, hope. You caused that. No, no. That’s not what you wanted. Without hesitation, you said with your heart and soul,

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

Bakugou had heard enough. He cupped both cheeks and smashed his lips into yours in a powerful, yet passionate kiss. Fireworks were going off in your head and your heart was beating like you had just ran a race. The feeling of content and love was overpowering your senses. It felt warm and comforting and you didn’t want to let this feeling go. Ever. Bakugou disconnected from you first, allowing both of you to catch your breaths.

“I can die happy,” he said softly, in between breaths. Your breath got caught in your throat. It was this time that you took his face and kissed him, your knees falling weak under you. All you could think about was how soft he felt against your lips and how addictive his taste was. Bakugou’s hands had a mind all of its own. They snaked behind you, holding you close, feeling that you could never be too close to him. Actually, it was never enough. He wanted more of you. He wanted you even closer to him, to feel you all over and never let go.

Kirishima and Denki were casually strolling the halls, heading wherever they wanted to go. They were about to pass this very intimate moment between lovers, that is until Denki happened to look to the side and see a sight that could get him beheaded.

“Holy shi-” Denki began to shout, but Kirishima was quick to cover his mouth, pick him up and get them out of there as fast as possible.

“You fucking idiot. Why do you always do that!?” Kirishima scolded.

A/N: Please let me know what you guys thought of this chapter! Enough fluff? Are you guys sick of it yet? Next chapter might be a little s p i c y ~

An FYI, in case you haven't seen it:

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joonkorre · 3 years ago

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a bet, a boy, and what remains

just remembered that i can promote works that aren't drarry on here

It is common knowledge in Ghost City that His Highness the Crown Prince is more merciful than the Ghost King. If you need to bet on something, enter the Gambler's Den. If you desperately need help, also enter the Gambler's Den. His Highness will surely heed your pleas.

Make sure you at least have some sense of humanity in you first, though. AO3

On a cloudless night, a woman comes before the Ghost King’s God to trade her child for a fortune.

“He’s the runt of the bunch,” she says, smiling, hands clasped in front of her. “I have four more mouths to feed, and he can barely work to help his mother like his siblings. He can be of use as one of Chengzhu and His Highness’s servants, certainly.”

“Servants, you say,” Xie Lian repeats.

The gauzy red curtains are tucked closely tonight as per usual, but every being in the Gambler’s Den can see the outline of Xie Lian’s legs tucked beside him, his shoulders slackened. With each breath, his silhouette seems to lean further and further into the embrace of the person beside him, Hua Cheng.

“Yes, yes,” the woman nods. Emboldened by Xie Lian’s nonchalance, she tacks on: “Anything His Highness wants, even—even joining his harem. The boy is weak, but he is nothing but obedient.”

Though ruthless and fierce, Crimson Rain Sought Flower is famous for doting on his husband of two hundred years. A former prince like Xie Lian obviously misses the taste of excess sensuality, and thus, Hua Cheng must have indulged him in having a harem of his own. Young boys have always been favored by many. The woman may be new to Ghost City, but matters of the rich and powerful are nothing new to her!

A hush befalls the entire room before hasty whispers are hissed into perked ears. Eyes pin on the woman, and those that don’t instead watch the pair behind the red veil.

Xie Lian’s lips are pinched into a straight line, inexplicably silent. His calloused fingers draw circles on the ruby robes of his husband as he stares at the woman. To be more specific, the tiny figure behind the woman’s robes.

“Oh, my,” he says finally. No amount of tension leaves the room at his words; instead, it seems like a boulder of oppressive heat is pressing upon everyone in the room, its pressure never stops increasing. “Who is that hiding behind you?”

“This?” The woman grins, sweeping an arm back to pull the figure from her shadow. As expected from a merchant, she knows how to brandish her goods. “The runty child I spoke of is right here, Your Highness. I am nothing but prepared.”

“Are you that confident you’d fail, mortal?” Hua Cheng speaks up. He sounds calm, even arrogant, his gravelly tone reverberating throughout the entire room.

“Of course not, My Lord,” the woman’s smile slips for a split second. “No one is, no one wants to fail. It’s just… just to prepare. If I fail, I would pay for it right here instead of waiting for your men to come and take the boy. Regardless, it is simply more convenient for the both of us—”

“Child,” Xie Lian calls out, silencing the woman’s ramble. Clenching her sweaty hands, she shoots a glare at the whimpering child beside her, “come.”

The boy takes a step back, fingers twitching as if to reach for his mother’s sleeve. His mother only responds by pushing him forward. From how hard his twig-like legs stumble, the force of her push is quite evident. When he stops, sniffling, he discovers that he is but a few paces from the steps to the swaying red curtains. A soft mewl escapes him, and he curls into himself.

Sights like this are normal to the denizens of Ghost City, even pathetically tame. Yet, one finds it difficult to emit even a single snicker, much less a jeer.

Xie Lian straightens and places a hand on his husband’s shoulder, moving his head closer. Whatever he’s whispering into Hua Cheng’s ear causes the latter to curl his arm more tightly around Xie Lian’s waist, a sharp nod following soon after. Pleased, Xie Lian settles back down as if nothing’s happened. One of the demure women posted before the curtains goes to heed her orders. Turning around to face her audience, a charming beam graces her face.

“A child or a fortune, the answer remains unknown,” she announces. “The even number loses, the odd number wins. If it is the former, the little boy is His Highness’s. If it is the latter, the gold you so desire is yours. Proceed!”

The woman is handed a wooden dice cup, its raven hue gleaming under the light. Getting an opportunity like this, the bit of courage she has lost before returns tenfold. When she shakes the cup, her hands are quick and sure, and if one stands more closely, one might see a hint of a smirk.

A few moments in, she wonders if she has done too good of a job proving that her offer is worth Xie Lian’s time. What if he deems the boy more important than the promised fortune, and the will of fates shifts in his favor? The woman shakes her head and stills her moving hands. The rattle of dice lasts a moment longer, then quietens.

So what if she loses the runt? He is no good in her household anyway, no good at all.

And even so, His Highness is merciful. He would want to see a mother with no child missing, as well as having the means necessary to take care of them and expand the family business. It’s why she asked for his attention in the first place.

As her fingers shift to open the cup, a whisper cuts through the thick silence. It’s like its owner wants to be discrete, but ultimately lacks the conviction to do so and couldn’t care less about who can hear.

“Make it quick.”

She glances up to the slight opening between the curtains. Xie Lian is focused on his husband. Giving him an order. The woman’s fingers turn slippery without reason. Make what quick?

“You done, lady?” A nasally snort demands from the audience. Someone else half-heartedly shushes them, but complaints of similar nature emerge. Like a dam has broken, shouts and snarls soon flood Gambler’s Den.

A new feeling threatens to overtake the woman’s entire being. Something about this, this entire situation, is wrong. She shouldn’t have gotten herself into this. Although the price she has to pay doesn’t mean that much to her, she can’t help but tremble under the weight of what she truly has done.

Making it quick—as Xie Lian has said—her hand rips open the cup before she can scare herself out of it.

She doesn’t even get the chance to know what she has before Xie Lian interrupts.

“Pardon me, I nearly forgot,” he soothes the shouting masses. All eyes return to him. “If you lose, I’m taking your hands alongside the boy. Your voice, too, as a treat. Isn’t that right, San Lang?”

“What?” The woman breathes.

“Right,” comes Hua Cheng’s reply, laced with overwhelming smugness and pride. “Hey, what’re you waiting for? Tell us what you got.”

“Tell us what you got,” two giggles echo from either side of her shoulders.

At her peripheral vision, two identical heads of silken, ebony hair loom. Not missing a beat, the heads lift to reveal a pair of stark white, immaculately painted faces. Twins, with blood-red lips and bottomless yellow eyes, peering at her. If the woman is brave enough to observe them fully, she would see how the twins’ necks twist from their respective shoulders like leathery ropes, letting their heads hang down, down, down to the woman’s height.

They already know. They’re simply waiting for her to admit it.

The woman’s head moves so jerkily her muscles ache, struggling between wanting to prolong the inevitable and to hurry it up. She looks down.

In a sob, she tells everybody what she got.

When she is dragged away, feet near dangling off the floor, each twin’s mouth is clamped so tight around her arms that blood and bits of flesh trickle down to dye the red carpet to a deeper crimson. Long necks creak and pulse as they guzzle down what of her blood they can drink at the moment. With each synchronized stride of the twin’s legs, countless patrons drop to their knees, muzzles and maws pressed against the floor. Wet, slobbering tongues suck up any droplet of blood they can get to. Those farther back tear and claw their ways to the front, causing more red to darken the carpet, what little remains of their dignity forgotten as bloodlust consumes them.

The Gambler’s Den is infernal, crazed beyond repair. It's always like this on Full Moons. Nevertheless, it will soon be over once everyone gets their fill of either food or violence, and the night will go on as normal. The cowering boy doesn’t know that. He pinches his nose but the scent of copper lies heavy on his tongue like bile. His eyes feel like they’ve been sewn shut, black and bursts of red the only things he can register. In the pandemonium, something smacks against his back. He falls.

The child’s tiny hands hover in front of him as his feet catch, and expect pain. A cut at least, maybe a burn from scraping against the carpet. What they get instead is softness. No, not really. It’s like pressing on a bag full of grains. It’s firm and warm, and the complete opposite from falling onto the floor. That same warmth envelopes his back.

“There, child,” the voice he’s been fearing the whole night tickles his ear like an autumn leaf drifting in the wind. Despite his thudding heart, the boy burrows into that warmth and the honeyed coos he never thought he’d be able to have. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Xie Lian leads him up the stairs step by careful step, holding him stable whenever his knees start to buckle. Fragrant incense replaces the bitter stench from outside, and the boy knows he’s now behind the red curtains. Though it’s not really cooler than earlier, the sweat dotting his forehead and nape dries anyway in the comfortable heat.

“Husband, look,” Xie Lian murmurs, worried. A deeper, considering hum follows.

“Fetch me a bowl of water, plea—oh, thank you, and a cloth—oh, my, my, how quick! I can always depend on you, San Lang.”

The little boy doesn’t know if he can think this, but just in case his mind can’t be read and he wouldn’t be punished for it, he can’t help but think that the scary Ghost King is purring. Not exactly, he guesses, but close to it.

Something wet touches the boy’s eyelids. He flinches. Xie Lian apologizes at once, explaining that he is simply washing the boy’s face.

“Poor dear, your tears have glued your eyes shut,” he mutters, cautiously digging the gunk from the boy’s eyes. The boy’s shoulders hunch up and his eyes sting again. He didn’t mean to cry. He didn’t. He didn’t.

A large palm settles against his back. It’s cold, very much so, but it’s not the sort of cold that can freeze. Instead, it calms his fevered nerves.

“Relax, boy,” Hua Cheng drawls. Xie Lian keeps on cleaning the boy’s face as his husband speaks. “He didn’t say you can’t cry. You can.”

“It’s that,” Xie Lian jumps in, and the boy can hear the frown on his face, “it’s that you’ve been crying. You shouldn’t have. What I mean is, you shouldn’t have been put in this situation in the first place for you to cry so hard. It’s not right. It’s no way to treat a child.”

“Gege has taken care of it, though, hasn’t he?” As the two converse, clearer shapes are starting to seep into the boy’s vision. More red drapes and curtains. A wine-colored lacquered divan and some standard chairs in a neat line on both sides, the rich brown wood of each intricately carved. Somehow, all the red and splendor manage to look more cozy than extravagant. “That hag is now gone. Probably lost more than her arms and throat, judging from how the girls were going at it.”

Xie Lian turns to the low, inky-black table before the divan, rinsing the cloth in a basin of water. When he faces the boy again, the boy squeezes his eyes shut. Secretive chuckles leak from behind him.

“Ah, don’t say that,” Xie Lian clucks his tongue. “If it’s not for your luck, that horrid woman would’ve gotten what she wanted, and the poor dear would still be stuck with her.”

“I wasn’t the one demanding for her arms and voice at the last moment.”

Through squinted eyes, the boy watches Xie Lian huffs out a breath at the accusation, endlessly fond.

The palm on the boy’s back taps twice.

“Open your eyes. We won’t bite,” a pause. “Well, the folks out there might. You watch your back, boy.”

“San Lang!” Xie Lian scolds, but his fingers are kind as they stroke the boy’s soft cheeks. “Don’t listen to his words, not a single one. Open your eyes, deary.”

The boy’s eyes blink open, slowly taking in the details he has missed before of the red room. And most of all, the smiling face of Xie Lian.

“Hello,” he whispers, crouching before the little boy. “How are you feeling?”

“Uh, um,” the boy whimpers, a clumsy hand pawing at his ratty shirt, “why did you take Mother’s arms and voice?”

Xie Lian’s brows furrow. He lifts the wet cloth and cleans the boy’s jaw and neck.

“Discipline is what parents do to ensure that their kids grow up to be good and well. But,” he thumbs a spot by the boy’s collarbone, drawing forth a phantom ache the boy has forgotten about, “leaving bruises like this is cruel. She didn’t try to hide it, she was possibly even proud of herself. I’m sure there’s more, isn’t that right?”

The boy lowers his eyes. Xie Lian continues on. “The way you acted when you and your mother walked in while folks were getting loud and rowdy. Of course, some kids would find it typical or fun, while others find it overwhelming. That’s normal, but how you reacted to shouts and profanity was peculiar, indeed.”

The boy listens carefully, then scratches his arm. “How did you,” he sniffs, “how did you know?”

At his words, a dot of white emerges from behind him. He moves to back away before he realizes that it… flutters? It’s fluttering down toward him, with tiny wings that glow even brighter than fireflies. The butterfly lands on his nose, its weight pretty much nonexistent. He laughs, then slaps a hand over his mouth. The butterfly startles and flaps away from his nose, perching on his fingers.

“Wow.”

He doesn’t blink. He doesn’t think he can.

“That’s what I use to monitor everything in my domain,” Hua Cheng is so tall that when he bends his waist to look at the boy, he seems unfathomable. Like a really red, yet pale, talking tree. How did a talking tree manage to marry His Highness the Crown Prince? The boy blinks the thought away. “I have more, there’s a cave full of it. A dark cavern housing a boat-load of shiny, flying bugs. Wanna see?”

The boy squints and turns to Xie Lian in askance. The latter wrings water out of the cloth into the basin and rolls his eyes, an action the boy’s assumed only Hua Cheng would do.

“Husband, stop trying to scare him off,” he sighs. “How am I supposed to adopt him if he thinks his baba is weird?”

“Oh,” the boy gasps from behind his fingers. “Um.”

“Ah,” Xie Lian says, suddenly at a loss for words. Hua Cheng walks over to dry his husband’s hands with a cloth he pulls from nowhere. When he’s done, Xie Lian finally figures out what to say.

“You don’t deserve to live with a parent like that,” he says, his hands reaching for the boy’s. He peers at the knobbly joints poking from under papyrus skin, rough and cracked and marred and not at all what a little boy’s hands are supposed to be. “Not ever. That’s why we want to offer you something else. A home.”

Xie Lian smiles, his chestnut eyes curving along. The boy can’t believe he’s real. He opens his mouth, stuttering.

“Does being adopted mean that I have to be in your ha—harem—”

“Do you know what a harem is?” Hua Cheng says.

“Um,” the boy scours through his memories of the things he’s learned. “Not really.”

“Then wipe that thought from your brain. You don’t need to know what it is right now,” a finger taps the tip-top of the boy’s head. He tilts his head back, and Hua Cheng’s single eye stares straight down at him. “His Highness doesn’t have a harem, first of all. He would never put a child in there either. Your old lady made a grave mistake, suggesting that he would.”

The boy’s head lowers toward Xie Lian again, who’s now sporting a solemn expression. He’s as youthful and handsome as ever, but it’s like he’s aged several years. The boy ducks his head to his neck. He’s made people mad again. He really didn’t know, but he shouldn’t have spoken. He should’ve just shut up.

“It’s why I took her voice,” Xie Lian says after a pause, still clutching the boy’s hands. “One must not talk of filth like that about their own child. Other than turning you into a shivery little boy who jumps at the slightest sound, that was a serious misuse of her ability to speak. Pardon me, but we are better off without hearing her talk.”

The tender smile returns to Xie Lian’s lips. He softly kneads the boy’s bony hands, his touch filling the boy with comfort so light and bouncy that it almost terrifies him.

“I was simply a bit excited earlier. You don’t have to see us as your fathers, you don’t have to feel like you’re adopted by us, but I hope you will see us as your caretakers and as those you trust,” Xie Lian says. “We want you to feel happy and loved, and we hope, we hope that you’d feel at ease around us. That you’re not scared anymore.”

The boy shuffles his feet, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. He’s never thought that Mother was a bad person. She was a bit strict, though, and she probably didn’t like him as much as his brothers. It’s okay. He knows he’s a runt. He’s heard it enough times from Mother to have it ringing in his head whenever he peeks at his reflection in the river.

He was so giddy when she told him she’s taking him to a festival to play. It actually wasn’t that fun, everybody was horrifying from appearance to behavior. Regardless, he was going to a festival with Mother, and that made up for everything. But he didn’t know he was going to get bet on. He didn’t know she was going to get dragged off like that.

He didn’t know that a single shove from her could hurt more than all the times she swung at him before.

Listening to Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, the boy wonders if Mother was more than just strict. It’s his first time ever thinking such a thing, and it swirls in his head like ripples on water’s surface, distorting his reflection.

That you’re not scared anymore.

The boy sniffles. The warm clasp around his hands lulls his scrambled thoughts to a halt, and the cool palm on his shoulder reassures him like an anchor. Almost imperceptibly, his mouth lifts into a shy smile. If it’s possible, Xie Lian seems to soften even more than he already is.

“Can I,” the boy gazes up at the man standing behind him, “can I tell you both my name first?”

“It’s a start,” Hua Cheng says, the corners of his lips quirking up.

#tgcf #tian guan ci fu #hualian #xie lian #hua cheng #tgcf fic #hualian fic #spontaneous child acquisition #tw mentions of child abuse #tw blood

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littlemisspascal · 4 years ago

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Death and an Angel part 3

Death!Din and Cupid F!Reader

Summary: You and Din have an unexpected heart-to-heart about what it means to be Death and a Cupid on route to a planet where Din’s potential soulmate lives.

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,500

Warnings: Pining, smidge of angst, more plot development, Razor Crest (RIP I miss you darling!), a made-up home world for the reader (yes, yes, there’s like a million I could have picked but my brain said NOPE)

Author Note: Ahhhh, the comments are so amazing from you all! Thank you everyone out there sparing time to check out my little universe, it makes me sooo happy you have no idea! As always, I hope you enjoy this new segment as I try to plot this story out and get these two idiots to acknowledge there just might be something between them.

Also special thanks to @codenamewitcher for including the first two parts on Weekly Fanfic Recs. Be sure to go check out the list for a whole bunch of fantastic stories!

Links to Part 1, Part 2 and Part 4

Photo Inspiration: (What I imagine is beneath the armor in this scene...*dreamy sigh*)

There is a distinct silence that can only be found in hyperspace when the stars outside resemble sparkling streaks of silver tinsel and your breath is trapped within your lungs as you’re awestruck by the sheer beauty of it all. You experience this silence aboard the Razor Crest, sitting in the cockpit behind Din as he pilots his beloved gunship. It isn’t the first time you’ve been a passenger, having traveled with Din on two previous ventures where your Cupid services were required on planets far away from your home on Umbriel.

Off-world assignments for you were generally rare since your bosses were more inclined to choose Cupids of higher ranking to handle those clients, but sometimes you were the only available option left. Which, come to think of it, is exactly how you became the one roped into meeting with Death every full moon. Your bosses decided someone needed to check up on him to make sure he wasn’t reaping anyone before their fated time and thus messing with the natural order of things. You privately have reached the conclusion it was a decision made during a fit of paranoia as you had yet to find any evidence suggesting Din ever broke a single one of the universe’s rules, let alone even considered the mere possibility.

When you did travel for assignments, you never stopped feeling like a goldfish being dumped out of your familiar little bowl and into a massive ocean full of strange oddities. You would often find yourself wasting time trying to successfully navigate the unknown world when you should have been focused on tracking down your client’s soulmate.

That’s why Din had offered to start traveling with you. Actually, in his own words it was because, “You think about love so much you don’t see trouble until it’s an inch in front of you. Someone’s got to be there to look after you.”

You’d tried to argue, told him you had never experienced trouble and that if you did then you could handle it with your bow. All Cupid’s were required to master archery for self-defense purposes, though Din’s responding snort of derision made you suspect he wasn’t convinced of your skills. You wondered if he thought, just as humans incorrectly did, a Cupid only used their bow to spread love and lust. Or maybe he just thought you weren’t capable of such finesse. It was an insulting assumption, fueling you with the burning desire to prove him wrong. One day, you keep telling yourself, a repetitive chant. One day you’ll show him just how capable you are with your weapon and you imagine his look of shock, whether worn openly on his face or hidden beneath the visor of his helmet, will be utterly priceless.

But in the meantime, you’re in no hurry to encounter trouble. Finding enjoyment in taking these trips with him on his ship instead.

The Razor Crest had actually been a complete surprise to you when Din first welcomed you on it; primarily because the notion of him using such a primitive form of transportation despite the powers he possessed as Death was too outrageous to wrap your head around. However, it took less than ten minutes soaring through space for you to discover just how many details of the universe you were missing by relying on your Cupid abilities to teleport yourself between locations. Never would you have imagined Death to be the one to teach you to love the slowness of travel, to let your eyes linger on all the beautiful wonders along the way. But that’s exactly what happened.

You turn your head away from the window to look at Din. From your angle, all you glimpse is the back of his helmet, reflecting the passing starlight. Soon you’ll be introducing Din to the first immortal on your list of potential soulmates.

Death, you quickly correct yourself. He’s only Din when he’s around you.

You initially thought he elected to wear his armor because you told him he could to ease his comfort, but now you think it’s because this is him meeting his potential soulmate as himself. It is easy to forget sometimes this is the image of Death—a warrior enshrouded in beskar, cunning and ruthless—that is recognized throughout the universe. And feared.

If the handsome face he concealed was known instead, you wonder if mortals would readily choose to embrace the ending of their lifetime, rather than foolishly seek to run from its inevitability.

“What is it?” Din’s baritone voice startles you as it shatters the quietness. The modulator within his helmet gives his tone a low raspiness that never fails to send a chill down your spine when you hear it.

“Huh?” You respond ineloquently.

“You’ve been staring at the back of my head for the last five minutes, angel. I figured you had something worth saying.”

“Oh, no. I was just thinking about you.”

Immediately you wish a meteor would collide with the ship, providing you with the necessary distraction to escape and find somewhere you can hide until the end of time.

“...What about me were you thinking?” Din wonders after a solid thirty seconds of pure silence, voice somehow conveying an equally blended mixture of intrigue and wariness. He flips on the ship’s autopilot and turns in his seat to pin you with his gaze, apparently unwilling to let you try and weasel yourself out of the conversation.

You roll the question around in your mind, wanting to give an answer that satisfies him without it also embarrassing yourself further.

“I was thinking how much of an enigma you are,” you murmur at last, leaning back in the chair with your arms crossing over your stomach. “You wield such incredible powers and yet you choose to wear a human face, to call this man-made ship your home and to also spend your spare time living amongst those you will eventually reap. Why are these your choices?”

He tilts his head, and you just know there is a little crease of bewilderment appearing between his eyebrows right now even if you can’t see it. For as much as he is a puzzle you can’t put together, he is also at times an open book that you will never tire of reading.

“I would think you, more than most beings, would understand the discomfort that stems from loneliness and the lengths one will go to ease it,” he says, not unkindly. He mirrors your position, maneuvering himself until he’s comfortable in his seat and totally oblivious to the dilating of your pupils as you observe every subtle shift of his armor-clad body. “Isn’t that the true purpose of Cupids? To spare individuals the ache of living a life of solitude by introducing them to someone to love so they no longer feel it.”

“That’s a poetic way of putting it,” you answer, smiling softly and shrugging your shoulders. “My superiors would just quote our mantra back at me when I used to ask. Amor vincit omnia.”

“Love conquers all.”

You shouldn’t be surprised he’s able to translate such an ancient and obscure language, but your eyes widen regardless. “That’s right.”

His voice is unusually soft when he asks, “Do you like being a Cupid?”

You stare at him, caught off guard by how easily he’s changed the topic of the conversation from himself to you. You’re used to taking orders and being thanked for your services, but no one has ever asked you if you liked doing any of it.

“I’m good at it,” you finally say, even though it’s not really an answer.

He nods his head still, as if he understands. A part of you thinks he actually does.

You lick your lips, eyeing him hesitantly. “Do you...like being Death?”

“I’m good at it,” he echoes, but your words sound somber coming from his lips.

The cockpit fills with hushed silence again, but there’s a unique tenderness unlike ever before. Minutes seem to stretch on for entire seasons as you watch one another, content to simply coexist and revel in each other’s presences.

It would be so easy to slip off his helmet and kiss him right now.

You stiffen, stunned at your own thought, but you aren’t given the chance to analyze it further as an alarm on the ship’s control panel announces with a resounding beep you’ve reached your destination.

Din spins in his seat, reclaiming control of the steering to begin the ship’s landing process. You look out the front window at the large green-blue planet drawing nearer with every anxious tick of your heartbeat.

“We’re here,” you say needlessly, forcing excitement into your voice. Fake it till you make it, isn’t that the human expression?

“Who is it we’re meeting on this backwater skug hole?” Din asks, pressing a series of buttons above his head.

You kick the back of his seat. “Be nice,” you scold when he shoots you a look. He mutters something unintelligible under his breath as he turns back around, prompting you to roll your eyes. “She’s a goddess of springtime and motherhood. The locals call her Omera.”

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#the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #Din Djarin #Mandalorian #soulmate au #my fic #my writing #death and an angel #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #din x you #din x reader

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rngknsk · 3 years ago

Text

The Aftermath

Chapter 1: Consciousness

Sanemi Shinazugawa/Reader (F)

You find yourself alive at the Butterfly Estate beside your closest friend after the final battle against Muzan Kibutsuji. You both are hurting over the loss of your comrades, so you must find a way to comfort each other.

**THIS SHORT STORY CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE END OF THE DEMON SLAYER MANGA. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN’T FINISHED THE MANGA.**

Tags/warnings: Shared trauma, angst, survivors guilt, slight tw, comfort, slight fluff, reader is a Hashira

You can also read here on Ao3. Enjoy!

It’s not your time yet, young one, you still have a long journey ahead of you.

Be sure to live a life that will inspire others every day, please know that I will always love you.

We will always be here, watching you, waiting for you. We know you will do great, we are so proud of you, Y/N. Live on.

✾✾

Rain pattering gently against the window stirred you from your dreams. You blinked a few times as you peeled your eyelids apart, feeling the discomfort of the built-up eye-crusts that had grown as you slept for the past few days, to which you didn’t realize just yet. Your mouth felt dry as you slowly smacked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Your tongue felt swollen. Staring up at the dimly lit, wooden ceiling of the building that protected you from the rain outside, you took a few moments to try to recall where exactly you were. You remained in a numb physical state, or so it felt; you just needed to fully wake up. When you did, all of the memories came flooding back.

You tried to pull yourself upright in the bed you found yourself on, but immediately froze as the pain shocked and ran through every nerve in your body. You shut your eye and let out a sharp inhale through your gritted teeth that interrupted the silence of the room, trying to ease the pain. It was then that you realized your left eye was covered. Slowly, you brought your bandaged hand up to your face, pressing your scarred fingertips to your cheek. Your head had been wrapped several times with a bandage that ran at a slight angle across your face and over your eye.

It was a long, final battle between the demon slayer corps and the demons. The war that was fought for centuries, even millennia, had finally been won, and because you remembered your victory, you were able to slump peacefully back into the bed you laid upon. You laid for a few long moments, the ringing in your ears starting to fade away, allowing you to finally relish in the serene sounds of the rain against the roof.

“You’re finally awake,” came a familiar voice to your left. You hesitated for a moment, tears welling up in your uncovered eye, realizing who the voice belonged to.

You slowly turned your head towards the voice before gasping out his name, “Shinazugawa-san?”

He met your alarmed gaze with a kind smile that made your heart feel warm and fuzzy, and it just might have been enough to cure the aches among the rest of your worn-out body. You wanted to tear the blanket right off of your figure and throw yourself upon him in a triumphant embrace, you wanted to bury your face into his neck and cry, but neither of you were in any physical condition for that.

Your fellow Hashira lay sitting up in his bed, covered in bandages from head to torso, arms to shoulders. He was certainly in a rougher state than you, but for good reason. Sanemi Shinazugawa risked his life for the sake of humanity against the demons, and the most feared of all, Muzan Kibutsuji. He was ruthless in every battle he’s fought, but until he butted heads with Kibutsuji, you’d never seen him so merciless. At the end of the fight, you were sure he’d never pull through. Before you passed out from exhaustion and blood loss, you caught a glimpse of his bloodied figure sprawled across the ground. The last thing you saw was Kibutsuji crumbling away, and with that sight you allowed yourself to finally drift off, to that you imagined would be death.

But it wasn't.

Instead, you woke up next to the man whom you’ve come a long way to care so much about. He was such a tough nut to crack, but you and Sanemi had become so close, and you were sure that you’d meet him in the afterlife along with many others, but rather, you woke up just a few feet away from him at the Butterfly Estate. With that you were beyond thankful at another chance. This time you were sure that you’d tell him how you’d truly feel. Now, finally, you’ll be able to express to Sanemi how important he is to you without any worry of an unexpected end, unlike the last time you opened your heart to someone.

“I’m surprised, you slept longer than I,” he continued. “I was thinking for sure that I’d never wake up, and instead I woke up to you still napping.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment. You figured he was trying to make a lighthearted joke, so you thought you’d at least react somehow. “I’m sorry, I thought I wouldn’t make it either.”

“You’re a tough girl, I knew you’d be just fine, unlike the others,” he slightly turned his gaze to the floor, a solemn expression curtaining his face.

Before you could ask, three Kakushi rushed into the room that you and Sanemi were resting in, audible gasps coming from behind their masks.

“S-She’s awake!” one cried as he ran out of the room. The other two hurried to your side to take your vitals.

“Please sit back L/N-sama, don’t strain yourself!”

“Yes, your wounds are still fresh and healing, don’t try to move until the nurses arrive!”

✾✾

Hours later, your bandages were rewrapped after you enjoyed a nice bath with the help of the Kakushi. They had given you an extraordinary painkilling formula that had been invented by Shinobu Kocho, the Insect Hashira and outstanding pharmaceutical expert, prior to her death. It was almost as if she created the formula in preparation of Kibutsuji’s attack. You had learned of the deaths of many, including the other remaining Hashira, with the exception of Sanemi and Giyuu Tomioka. You prayed to them as you sat in the bath after the Kakushi gave you some time to soak alone. You cried, for they weren’t as lucky as you to be able to know a world without demons, to know a world in which you could live free. However, each and every life that was lost during the battle against Muzan Kibutsuji belonged to those who fought valiantly and believed in the freedom that you were so fortunate to experience.

It was evening now, and the rain had finally stopped. The colorful pastel clouds were moving out of sight, and the falling sun gleamed brilliantly between the damp leaves of the trees it tried to hide behind. The dew drops sparkled against the rays before they each slid off of the leaves at their own individual pace. You slowly walked yourself outdoors to the engawa, which is where you found Sanemi. He was sitting by himself, a single leg hanging off of the engawa edge while his other was propped up in front of him. You’d never seen him so quiet and peaceful looking, even with his back towards you. You didn’t want to startle him or disrupt his alone time, but you wanted to talk to him. You wanted to know what he was thinking; what was going through that mind of his?

“Shinazugawa-san,” your voice gently hit the breeze, carrying your greeting to his ears. His head slightly perked up, but his gaze remained forward. He didn’t respond, but rather patted the wood floor beside him. After a moment of noticing his gesture, you stepped forward to slowly lower yourself next to him, gritting your teeth to suppress any signs of pain from your injuries. Once seated beside your friend, you glanced out of the side of your eye to see a single tear rolling down his cheek. The sight punctured your very soul. After all these years, training and fighting beside this battle-hardened man, you never thought you’d see him cry. Of course, he lost his younger brother during the battle, so it seemed he was taking this time to grieve; you were just surprised that he allowed you so close to be able to see him in such a state.

“Genya would have liked this view, don’t you think?” Sanemi broke the silence, fighting away the cracking of his voice. “When we were kids, we would always watch the sun set in the evening. It was one of the things that really helped us forget how shitty the world was for us back in those days. Seeing his bright, wide eyes and that happy expression was what pushed me to continue forward every time. But now…” he finally turned away, wiping his remaining tears with his sleeves. “I just wish he could be here to see it, to see the sun set in a world where we don’t have to fight for our lives anymore.”

You didn’t know how to respond. It seemed as if the best option would be to let him talk and express how he was feeling. It was, after all, better than him bottling things up, similar to what he’s done for his entire life. Genya wasn’t the only person that Sanemi has lost. You couldn’t forget what he had told you about, what had happened to his family, what he had to do to protect Genya way back then. He’s lost family, friends, others… And you did too, but this wasn’t about you. Right now, you had to comfort someone who was very dear to you.

“I wish he was here too,” you spoke, leaning yourself towards him to rest a hand upon his shoulder. You hoped your gesture would help ease him. “I wish… everyone was here. Our families, our friends,” you lowered your head for a moment in respect, saying a silent prayer for those who had been lost. When you looked back up you found that he had turned to your direction, and you locked eyes with him. His expression was absolutely pitiful. You could feel him tense up when you began to involuntarily squeeze his shoulder faintly. “But we must live on. Live on for them, or else their sacrifices would not be worth anything. Please, Shinazugawa-san, know this,” you rested your other hand upon his, which was laying atop his lap. “Every person that you have ever loved is always watching over you, and they are so proud of you, including myself,” you smiled warmly as you concluded your words of reassurance.

Trapped in each other’s watery eyes, there was a sure understanding between you both. You knew how he felt, and he knew that of you. Ever so gently, Sanemi leaned forward to rest his forehead upon yours. His hand reached up and rested behind your head, pressing you even closer to him. As you both sat there beneath the dimming purple skies, you quietly thanked whatever higher beings allowed you both to survive hell and finally find paradise. Stars began peeking through the pastel-colored atmosphere, and the air felt fresher than it ever had before. You both shared a smile.

“Thank you for everything, L/N-san.”

✾✾

#shinaguzawa sanemi #sanemi shinaguzawa #sanemi #shinazugawa #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #kny x reader #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #fanfic #angst #comfort #fluff

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