#and I wouldn’t be able to choose what piercings to give him because he would look good in anything. argh

[fruixtii]

Silver with piercings is the most beautiful thing to ever be thought

[seeingivy]

casual

suguru geto x f!reader

**loosely based on casual by my beloved chappell roan

—

in the three months that you spend with suguru geto, he leaves a sour taste in your mouth and it’s not only because he tastes like black coffee. and in the two months that follow, before your deeply unfortunate circumstantial reunion, the last five words that you uttered to him, the sentiment behind them, only seems to grow. 

you can go to hell. 

and it’s all you can think when he shows up to the emergency room – a pinkish sunburn across his nose, his hair messily tied back – and eyes dripping in a concern that fills you with a rage. and it’s a deep sigh that he gives you, before reaching for your hand. 

“what happened to you, peach?” 

--

the general education class that you choose to satisfy your values and ethics inquiry is the sociology of religion. counting all the stakes – a stellar review on rate my professors, a night class at the start of the week, and minimal homework – it makes for the most ideal choice. 

“so what’s your major?” 

the downside? the midterm and final project are group assignments. and on any other occasion, you would have appreciated it – getting to split the work, taking some of the load off and sharing the work with someone, except for the fact that you didn’t know anyone in the class – and for the most part, you were expecting some half-brained idiot that would make you do all the work. 

you suppose it’s at least fair that he’s not horrible to look at. in the dimmed lights of your apartment, there’s something almost off putting about your partner, suguru geto. you count seven piercings across his ears – dangling silver pieces almost shining in the glint of the light – and the smallest rim of purple around his eyes. harsh cheekbones, a hard jaw, and wrinkles by his eyes. 

“educational studies. what’s yours?” you state. 

“computer science.” 

you hum in response, filling the two glasses with water and snatching one of the peaches from its container before taking your seat across from him, noting that he has a dimple on the left side when he smiles in response to your gesture. 

“did you want some?” you ask, holding the peach in between the two of you. 

he shakes his head, slumping against the counter in what seems an almost unnatural pose – his long limbs spreading into the space underneath your chair. you wonder if he always had an unusual way of taking up space. 

and it seems that as time goes on, he gets more and more unusual. quietly working through the portions that you split up, except for a few deep breaths here and there, though he would stop once in a while and would almost ask for approval of what he had written, waiting for some confirmation from you that it was okay with you. 

“you’re comparing adam and eve to…orpheus? i’m not really familiar with that.” you state. 

suguru nods, before turning towards you to explain. his eyes waver in the slightest as he turns over to you, his gaze flitting down to your lips, before looking back up at you. 

“you don’t have to be polite. you really can have some if you want, it’s really sweet.” you state. 

suguru smiles. 

“maybe later.” 

you shrug. 

“so orpheus…” 

“it’s a really old greek myth. orpheus and eurydice. to kind boil it down, eurydice is in the underworld with hades. and orpheus is trying to convince hades to let her return to the mortal world, with him.” 

he scoots his chair a little bit closer to you and you’re able to note one thing – that there’s a resonance in his voice, that it hums in his chest when he talks. 

“hades tells him that he’ll let him take eurydice with him, but on one condition. she has to walk behind him.” 

“that’s not that hard.” 

suguru grins. 

“isn’t it?” he asks. 

you pause. 

“you’re being told by this big, all powerful god, that she’s walking behind you. but you can’t look. you wouldn’t even consider the fact that you were being fooled? that maybe she had decided not to follow?” 

“i mean, i guess. i don’t think it would really cross my mind, i…i think i’d just follow out all the way til the end because i’d kind of have faith if that’s what i was promised. and that she’d want to come with me too.”  

suguru pauses, like he’s almost taking in what you’ve said – like it’s the first time he’s heard it – and responds rather slowly. 

“you’re rather trusting, aren’t you?” 

you roll your eyes. 

“is that such a bad thing? what do you think about it?” 

suguru shrugs. 

“it was a worthless pursuit in the first place. there was no way that he wouldn’t have turned around and looked back.” 

“what do you mean?” 

“it’s simple. he loves her. if he hears something that deceives him – like the sound of her tripping over a rock – he doesn’t think. he looks back. if he thinks that she isn’t there, he won’t be able to get over it and he’ll turn around.”  

you pause, mulling the thought over. and you suppose it’s true – that if you really did love something, it would be almost impossible not to check for the promise of their presence. 

“i guess. so what? she goes back to the underworld?” 

“yeah. it’s one of the most tragic love stories.” 

“i guess it’s kind of romantic. that he loved her so much that he had to look back, like it was almost an instinct.” 

and in the split second that the two of you stare at each other, he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours, with the strong taste of coffee lingering on his lips. 

you’ve kissed three people before in your life – the boy you sat next to in the seventh grade, your date to the prom, and now suguru geto. 

the first was overwhelming. a quick locking of the lips, that at the time, made you nearly erupt into a puddle of butterflies. the second was lackluster. waxy from too much chapstick, abrupt from the fact that he was quick to shove his tongue in your mouth. 

and the third was indescribable. only because you could feel it – something lingering under his demeanor that you couldn’t exactly place. there wasn’t a word for the feeling it gave you – though there was one that was close enough. 

curiosity. about what that feeling is, about who suguru geto was, and why he felt so inclined to kiss you upon your third meeting. 

you wanted more of it. 

“you’re right, you know?” he murmurs, breath warm against your lips. 

“about being trusting?” 

he laughs. 

“no. about the peach. it really is sweet.” 

he leans back, eyes fixed on the reading in front of the two of you again, as you reach up to touch your lips, the sticky sweetness of the fruit gone from your skin. 

--

suguru comes around often after the fact. always here and there, an almost abrupt and concise text testing the waters. 

[suguru]: is your roommate home? 

[you]: nope. she’s at the district. 

[suguru]: can i keep you company?

[you]: okay! 

and he always arrives promptly twenty minutes after the fact, to the point where you wondered if he lingered around just to get there as fast as he could. and never empty handed – with dinner, dessert, or a flower that he plucked out of the cement in his hands. 

that was the thing that confused you about him. 

after the very first time you kissed, he had made one thing very clear. 

no attachments. you’re not together. 

but yet, he’d show up sometimes and do nothing but kiss your forehead and sleep in your bed next to you. or make you do something entirely mundane – like watch toy story three with a sheet of cookies in your oven – or watch you study. 

and in the two weeks you had known him, you knew better than to question. your curiosity never stopped you, but you found that you were always left with more questions than the vague answers that he gave you.  

“hey peach?” 

“yeah?” 

“your mom is calling.” 

you widen your eyes, immediately snatching the phone from him, and giving him a weary smile. and you side shuffle into the walkway between the laundry and your bedroom, pressing the phone to your ear and murmuring under your breath. 

“hi mom.” 

“hi doll. how are classes?” 

you pick at the loose thread of your sweater, nearly breaking the seams of the sleeve, noting suguru’s curious eyes – that he’s very poignantly trying to hide – from the kitchen. 

“they’re good, ma. what’s up?” 

“right. i’m so sorry to do this to you, my sweet, but i won’t be home when you get back.” 

“what?” 

“we’re going on a trip to see sheila in new york. and well, her vacation is only during those dates and we want to spend as much time with her as we can.” 

you sigh, the frustration tempering in yoru chest. 

“i already paid for the tickets. i saved up for a month trying to buy a flight back.” 

“darling, i know. i’m really sorry, but you know how it is. she just gets so stressed out that we just wanted to go out there and make her holiday nice.” 

“and what about my holiday? you don’t want me to have a nice christmas with my family?” 

you can feel it burning in your cheeks – that embarrassing feeling that’s been simmering in your chest since you were kid. a mix of an insurmountable amount of envy and dejection, from trying to vie for attention from the second that you realized you never had it. 

“don’t try to make me feel guilty.” she scolds 

“i’m not trying to make you feel guilty! i just wished you would have thought about me too.” 

you hear an irritated sigh on the end of the line, which is your first sign that you had made a mistake. because if there was one thing you knew how to do, it was push your mom’s buttons. 

you wonder if it’s because she sees herself in you – and that utter hatred that she has for herself was now placed on you instead. 

“do you always have to be so curt with me?” 

“i’m not being curt, i just…” 

“maybe when i die, you’ll think back and wished that you had appreciated me more. been more understanding that i’m not just your mother, i am someone’s friend too. that i have my own life. and that at the very least, my friends like to call me here and there. acknowledge me while you do god knows what wherever you are.” 

“okay, well, i –” 

“enjoy your christmas. we’ll see you in the spring.” she states. 

there’s a static on the other end of the line and you drop your phone, staring at the dark screen in your hands for the few seconds that follow. and you must have been standing there for too long, because a few minutes later quiet footsteps accompany you in the dimly lit hallway, suguru’s head obscuring the light from the bulb. 

“hi peach.” 

“did you hear all of that?” 

“no.” he responds. 

you look up at him and glare. and he reaches forward, hands soft on your cheek wiping away the wetness that you hadn’t noticed. you’re not sure when you started crying. 

he leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“you’re a liar. if you’re one thing, it’s nosy.” you respond. 

he smiles. 

“maybe when it comes to you. what happened, pretty girl?” 

you shake your head, his grabby hands coming around your waist as he presses you closer to his chest. you can hear his heart thumping against your ear, the metal of his necklace cold on your cheek, as you heave a sigh. 

“nothing.” 

“oh, come on, peach.” 

you look up at him, expectant and full brown eyes waiting for an answer, as you give in. 

“i just thought i would be going home next week for break. but i think i’m just going to stay here.” 

“because your parents are going to…” 

“see their friends in new york.” 

suguru frowns. you can’t tell if it’s pity in his eyes. 

“it’s not a big deal. i just was expecting to go home, that’s all. and it’s not that big of a deal that i’m going to stay here, the weather is nice and it’s probably frigid cold there.” 

suguru pauses. 

“you’re going to be here alone?” 

“yeah. my roommate is from the east coast.” 

“you should come home with me, for break.” 

you look up at him, eyes wide. 

“what?” 

“s’not that far from here, i usually just make the drive. there’s a nice coffee shop on the way that i always stop at for some energy. and my mom is really nice.” 

you shake your head, almost too violently. 

“i can’t just go home with you. i wouldn’t want to impose.” 

suguru pulls back, his fingers fast on the screen, as he murmurs under his breath, his voice uncharacteristically soft. 

“you’re not an imposition to me, peach. i can’t leave my baby here alone.” 

“sure. but to your parents, and…and staying rent free in your house.” 

suguru grins, handing over the phone to you, as you read the texts on the screen. 

[suguru]: can my friend come home with me for break? her name is y/n. 

[mom]: YES!!!!! 

[mom]: A GIRL! 

[suguru]: not like that

[suguru]: but she’s sweet 

[mom]: I’M GETTING EVERYTHING READY 

you look down at the phone, noting the sweet heart emoji that he has near her contact name, the contact photo a picture of the two of them when he was considerably younger, hugging cheek to cheek. 

“and i stay rent free in your apartment all the time.” 

“suguru, this is…weird. i can’t just come home with you, that’s…that’s too much.” 

he shakes his head. 

“it’s casual. we’re just friends, you’re just coming home with me for break so you won’t be here alone.” 

right. you’d almost be inclined to believe him – if it wasn’t for the fact that the time you spent around him, the more curious you got. 

the more that feeling festered in you, wanting to know anything and everything about him, wanting to crawl deep into his skin and memorize everything and make sense of why he was the way he was. 

“you promise?” 

“for sure.” 

--

“you’re a loser.” 

mei mei is never one to mince her words. and you’re grateful for it – because it’s something that you need when you return from your two weeks stay in long beach with suguru over the break. 

because despite the words that he told you, the ones that you didn’t really believe anyway, you come back in a worse state than you expected. 

you think you love him. 

because in the days of uninterrupted time that you spend together, you let your mind wander too far. because in the quiet moments that the two of you had – knee deep in the passenger seat outside the stupid coffee shop you stopped at, giggling in the bathroom when you went to dinner, and tangled in the bed sheets with him every night – you let yourself taste too much. 

let your mind run a little too wild. thinking about meeting his friends at the pier he showed you, of living together in an apartment in the following year. 

and the two of you teeter a dangerous line. putting each other as emergency contacts, swapping your wardrobe in between your flats, and showering together every morning – his soft hands massaging the shampoo into the roots of your hair.  

“don’t be mean.” you state. 

“i’m not being mean, i’m just saying that…” 

mei mei sighs, cheeks in her hand, with an almost irritating look in her eyes – wholeheartedly judgemental. she just didn’t get it. 

“look, he’s friends with todo. that guy i know from the finance club? and i asked around about him, apparently he loves to brag about how he gets girls off all the time. now either he’s talking about you – clearly not the way you talk about him – or he’s talking to someone else.” 

you sigh. because you can’t even put it past him. because in the months you had known him, he was impossible to understand. a futile effort to read. impossible to touch. 

“look, i’ll just ask him later.” 

and when he comes around your apartment, well after mei mei has left, he brings a slice of peach cobbler that his coworker insisted that he take home with him. 

“peach cobbler for my peach!” 

you wince. 

“that was corny. even for you.” 

“i saw an opportunity and i took it.” suguru responds, shrugging as he loops his arms around your waist, chin resting against the top of your head as he eyes the pot of boiling ramen on your stove. 

and you bite the bullet as fast as you can. 

“do you see other girls?” you ask. 

“huh?” 

you swallow hard, dry patch in your throat, as you feel the sweat tickling the top of your forehead. it’s from the heat of the stove. 

“do you see other girls? or guys?”

“no. do you?” 

you shake your head. and you’re unsure how to word the next question – because there was something humiliating, too bare about having to admit that you want more to him – when things were so sweet as they were. 

perhaps you should have known better. coffee was always bitter at the end. 

“why do you ask?”

you shrug. 

“dunno. was just thinking about us. and how we spent break together and all that.” 

suguru presses a kiss to your hairline. 

“yeah? did you have fun?” 

you hum in response. 

“yeah. i really liked the city. and your mom and your sister. it was really sweet of you to take me.” 

you pause, wincing as you decide to be as blunt as possible. 

“and i like you.” 

he laughs. 

“well, i like you too.” 

“no, no, i like you. well, i more than like you, but i…i can’t say those words.” 

there’s a silence. and his arms feel like loose limp noodles around you. and you realize now, that you made the wrong choice. you turn around, only to find hollow brown eyes staring at you, the makings of a frown on his face. 

“suguru?” 

he winces. 

“i can’t.” he whispers. 

“why not?” 

and you’re not sure what it is, but it throws him into a panic. with his facial features scrunched up, eyes hollow, and nervous hands running through his hair. 

“i just can’t.” 

you cross your hands over your chest, the bitter contempt of rejection blooming in your chest, as you look down, picking at the scab on the inside of your palms as you ask again. 

“i said i didn’t want any attachments.” he adds. 

“i know. but can you blame me for being confused? you took me home to see your family.” 

“as a friend.” 

“you didn’t act like my friend while we were there.” 

suguru groans. 

“and that’s my fault, i know that but –” 

that one stings. admitting that he regrets it. 

“okay, well. that’s alright. maybe you should leave now, then.” you state. 

“wait peach, no. i don’t want to leave, i just..” 

you scoff. 

“you don’t want to leave?” 

“no?” 

it comes out meek, almost timid when he utters it. a question. like he can’t even admit it fully – that he wants to stay. and it fills you with anger, searing red hot anger on the heels of being cast aside so nonchalantly, that it comes to a head then and there. 

“do you really think so little of me?” 

“what? 

“i’m not good enough to be your girlfriend. but whatever else you want, that’s fine. i…i thought you thought of me better than some girl you just fuck around with.” 

suguru sighs. 

“you’re not some girl i just fuck around with.” 

“am i not, though?” 

suguru shuts his eyes, the look on his face is so pained – so miserable – that it irritates you. 

“you’ve made it abundantly clear. that you like me a decent amount, but not enough to care about whether or not you’ll lose me.” 

you bite down so hard on your lip that the taste of metallic blood fills your mouth, coupled with warm tears in your eyes. 

“and for that, you can go to hell.” 

--

“what happened to you, peach?” 

you scoff, curling your nose at the old nickname, as he yanks the closest stool – his legs still too long to even be comfortable on the thing as he leans forward, noting the dried blood on your forehead. 

“a car accident. you can leave now.” 

suguru frowns, almost resembling a kicked dog, as he shakes his head. there’s something softer about his expressions now – something you’re sure is a byproduct of the time you spent apart or the fact that you have a broken rib – and you choose to ignore it for the time being. 

“i can’t just leave.” he whispers. 

“and why not?” 

suguru shakes his head. 

“you have a broken rib. and a deep cut on your forehead. forgive me if i’m concerned about you.” 

“i can’t. knowing you, you’ll casually linger around here for a few days, and when you figure it’s appropriate to leave, you’ll be gone with the wind.” 

the two of you sit there in silence, the harshness of the words hanging in the air between the two of you. 

and yet again, suguru geto leaves you with a never ending pit of curiosity. about what he was doing here, to ask how he is – to make it a note to him that his cheeks look fuller, that his eyes aren’t rimmed red anymore, and that he looks good. 

that you like the new hairstyle. that it killed you when he wasn’t around anymore. that you still want him to go to hell. 

suguru twists the silver ring on his pointer finger a few times – a fourth, a fifth, and a sixth – before you break the silence, your curiosity getting the best of you another time. 

“why are you here?” 

“they called me. i’m your emergency contact still.” 

“no, i gathered that. why are you here?” 

suguru pauses, swallowing hard before responding. 

“if orpheus hears something that deceives him – like the sound of eurydice tripping over a rock – he doesn’t think. he looks back.” suguru states. 

you scoff. vague again. 

“right.” 

“no, really. i got the call. and i didn’t think and just showed up. i just…just had to see you.” suguru states. 

he pauses. 

“it’s kind of romantic, don’t you think? that he loved her so much that he had to look back, like it was almost an instinct.”

you turn to glare at him, at the audacity of him repeating your own stupid words back to you. 

“is it? because his carelessness left her in hell with hades.” 

suguru scoffs. 

“i never did tell you the end of the story, did i?” 

you roll your eyes. 

“orpheus becomes so distraught that he uses his lyre to charm death – just so that he can return to the underworld to be with her. and people debate how it happens, him being ripped apart by irate women or getting killed by the menades, but it does happen. he dies and goes to the underworld. and in some versions, people think that he reunites with her in the underworld. and she forgives him.” 

“and why would she do that?” you ask. 

“because he tried his best to do right by her. he was asked to do one thing – to stay away. and that’s what he did, because…because i know you’re right. because you do deserve better, i do think the world of you and think you deserve to be with someone who wants to be with you, the way that you want.” 

suguru pauses. 

“it’s not my fault that i can’t help but look back. i can’t do anything about the fact that i love you.” 

you swallow hard, an embarrassing amount of regret – mixed in with that deep longing that he left in your chest – searing through you. 

“in the casual way, right?” you respond, sarcastically. 

he groans. 

“it’s not casual at all. it wasn’t casual when i leaned forward to taste the sweetness of the peach on your lips – especially when i fucking hate peaches. and it wasn’t casual when i took you home with me, it was…i just couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone. and it’s not fucking casual that i drove three hours when i was supposed to be home this weekend just because i the thought of you sitting in this room alone, in pain, was driving me crazy.” 

you wince, turning to look at him. and it seems that in the mere acknowledgement of his presence by locking his eyes, it seems to fill him with something – something that puts the whisper of a smile on his face. 

“what?” 

“i turned around for you. i didn’t know i would, but now that i have, i…i realize that i probably always would have.” 

“okay?” you whisper. 

“are you going to forgive me for it? not doing it earlier, for…for not getting it right the first time?” he asks. 

you pause, mulling the thought over. and the silence, he takes it as an invitation to plead his case. 

“i’ll beg. i’ll get on my hands and knees if that’ll do something to make it better.” 

you turn to look at him. 

“you…you’re special. i haven’t forgotten about you and…and i know we had something. just let me fix it? i’ll get you a hundred gifts, i’ll tell you a hundred times and i’ll - oh!’ 

he reaches into his bag, shoving his arms into the depths of the pockets, before yanking out a little napkin and reaching forward, opening your hand and placing it in your palm. 

“a tissue?”

“open it.” 

and you oblige, unfolding the tissue to see four little gummy peach rings in the napkin, before turning back to him. 

“peach rings?” 

“for my peach! i eat them all the time now, even though i fucking hate peaches. i only had a few left so i grabbed what i had left when i ran out. and i ate some on the way on accident because i was nervous, worried about you and all..” 

you look down, the sugary crystals on the candy almost sparking in the light, as you look back at him. and he's wholeheartedly different - not the cool, cold guy you left behind, but a weird mess of awkwardness and jitters, and maybe even the tiniest hint of desperation.

he seems wholeheartedly more touchable this way.

“you make no sense.” you state.

suguru frowns. 

“i know. but i’m trying.” he responds. 

and you sigh, wiping your hands at your side, before eating one of the candies. bitter at first, but sweet at the end. 

“suppose that’s my problem then. i’ll have to figure you out.” you respond. 

suguru’s face splits into a smile, his motions so eager as he leans over the railing of the bed, the angle entirely off as he leans forward to kiss you. and it’s entirely different from every other time you’ve kissed him – full and whole, a warm and tender promise behind it. 

“you’re wrong, you know?” you whisper. 

“about what?” he murmurs. 

“the peaches. they taste good.” 

he laughs. 

“is that right?” he whispers, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips, as he wavers his eyes up again, to the cut on your forehead. 

he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the bandages, before pulling back, lips lingering over yours. 

“i think i need one more to decide.”

--

an: idk.

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[seoulmatez]

— 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓊𝓁 ౨ৎ

haitani rindou x reader. 2.1k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ mentions of alcohol ﾉ explicit language ﾉ suggestive ending

something’s off.

rindou has been awake for no more than thirty seconds but he can tell—something’s off. there’s no dip in the mattress beside him. your warmth is absent from his hold. he can’t smell your shampoo, can’t feel the plush of your skin beneath his fingers. your spot is empty and cold. you’re gone.

he shoots up into a sitting position, fingernails digging into the threads of the sheets, strands of lavender hair sticking to the beads of sweat on his forehead. the sudden jolt sends a piercing throb through his skull.

“ah, fucking hell,” he swears, a hand coming up to hold his head. he squeezes his eyes shut and snarls at the uncomfortable sensation. every pound that strikes his cranium is heavy and loud as if they are beats of a drum. why is his head throbbing?

“are you okay?”

soles of slippers drag against the carpet, the soft sound accompanying that of your voice. it’s loud enough for rindou to hear but quiet enough so as to not aggravate his ailment. his pulsating headache persists but hearing your voice gives him a different sense of relief.

“where’d you go?” he ignores your question, choosing to ask one of his own. rindou drags his eyes up from his lap to meet yours.

“the store,” you wave the plastic bag out in front of you as you make your way to join him on the bed. stepping out of your slippers, you take a seat on the mattress at rindou’s feet, tucking your own beneath your thighs so you are sitting cross-legged. “had to pick up a few things.”

“i told you that i don’t like you leaving without telling me.”

his statement comes off as possessive and overbearing, but you know that it’s far from it—in fact, you consider it to be the opposite. though it may not seem like it to outsiders, rindou’s insistence on knowing where you are at all times stems from a place of love; it’s his way of protecting you. your known association with rindou makes you a target for enemies of bonten—and they have plenty. he worries for your safety and in an attempt to not bombard you with security details, rindou’s one ask is that you keep him informed on where you travel without him.

“would you rather i have woken you up?” you ask, picking out the items from the bag and setting them beside you. you hadn’t planned on going to the store but it was clear that you needed to pick up a few things, all of which were for rindou. pain relievers, a green smoothie, and honey graham crackers because you know he prefers them over the saltine ones.

“yes, actually.” he runs a hand over his forehead to brush all of the hair pasted there away.

you smile at his bluntness. in the time you’ve been with rindou, you’ve grown familiar with his direct way of speaking; you’d even go as far as to say that you enjoy it. you never have to wonder what’s on his mind when he speaks so freely.

your nimble fingers work at opening the cardboard box housing the crackers. you grab a sleeve, tear the plastic, and carefully pull out one of the brown rectangles. you hold it out to rindou as a form of apology. “i’m sorry. i just thought you could use all the sleep you could get after last night.”

“about that,” he says, accepting the snack from your hand. he takes a bite from the corner. crumbs fall from his mouth down to the sheet covering his legs but he can’t be bothered to clean up the mess. “what exactly did i get into?”

rindou is having a hard time recollecting the events of the previous night. if you asked him how he spent the rest of his day after work, he wouldn’t be able to tell you much. one thing he is sure of, though, is that he and most of the executives of bonten went out to celebrate a successful arms deal. everything after that is fuzzy.

“mm,” you hum, stealing one of the crackers to take for yourself. you mimic his actions, biting a small piece off from the corner and chewing thoughtfully. “i’m not too sure. ran called me saying that you were drunk off your ass and kept asking for me. so i went and picked you up from the bar.”

he swallows thickly, your words sparking recognition within him. most of it is still unclear, but rindou can piece together a vague picture.

“c'mon, rindou, don’t be a pussy.” sanzu sang from across the man while holding out another shot.

he ignored the glass, opting to flick his pink-haired associate off instead.

“what’s the matter? you lost your touch or something?” koko spoke up from beside him, throwing back a shot of his own. a grin pulled at his lips as he narrowly eyed rindou.

rindou scoffed, practically snatching the drink from sanzu and taking it down in one motion. he turned to koko with a smirk of his own. “fuck you.”

the seemingly never-ending drinks continued to pile on for the remainder of the night. rindou prides himself on having a heavy tolerance, and he does for the most part, but as memories of him calling out for you flooded his brain, it was clear that he had overdone it. not once before last night could he recall a time when he’d gotten so drunk that he was virtually begging to see you.

your lips curl upward at his silence. it’s not often that you find yourself in a position where you hold something over his head. after the events of last night and his uncharacteristic behavior, it would be a waste not to poke some fun at him.

“y'know,” you start, reaching for the pack of hangover relief pills. “i could barely drive home because you kept trying to climb over the console.”

a smirk lingers on your lips as you tear open the small package and shake the medicine out into your hand. you hum and point to rindou’s closed fist resting on his thigh. he catches on quickly, turning his hand over to receive your offer. the tablets drop from your fingers into his open palm.

“i didn’t do that.” rindou denies, tossing the pills into his mouth and promptly swallowing. his throat is parched and he wants to blame it on the fact that he had just taken pills without water but in reality, it’s because the information resurfacing is difficult for him to believe.

“okay, maybe that was an exaggeration,” you laugh. his adamant rejection of your claim only makes you want to tease him even more. “but you’re totally a clingy drunk.”

lilac eyebrows furrow as rindou thinks back to the ride home from the bar.

“rin, cut it out or i’ll crash the car.” you quickly slapped his wandering hand away before returning yours to the steering wheel.

a loud, whiney groan filled the otherwise silence of the car. “why don’t you want to hold my hand?” you glanced over to see rindou’s head rolling back and hitting the headrest of his seat. his eyes were squeezed shut but it was clear that he was frowning at your refusal of affection.

you bit the inside of your cheek to hold back a giggle. was this the same stoic man you had come to know? it looked like a shot too much was all it took to turn him into a nearly unrecognizable and touchy variant of your boyfriend. “i do, but we have to do it when we get home. i have to drive now.”

rindou turned to you with narrowed eyes but there was an uncontrollable grin of excitement tugging at his lips. “promise?” he asked.

you nodded. “i swear.”

as if it weren’t bad enough that you reminded him of that awkward conversation, rindou is beginning to piece together the moments afterward, specifically, when you pulled into the parking garage. if he looked down at his hand, he’s sure he’d be able to feel the ironclad grip he had on you as soon as you two got out of the car. the thought sends a shiver down his spine.

“i am not clingy.” he shakes his head, partly to disagree with your words but also to rid himself of the embarrassing memories.

“hmm, maybe not.” you play along although you have a clear recollection of last night. you figure that his denial must stem from a place of pride because if he had been in your shoes, if the roles were reversed, you're positive that he’d be pestering you about how handsy you had been.

“you’re pretty dependent, though,” you continue. there’s one more interaction you’re itching to bring up. “i’d even go as far as saying needy.”

rindou falls back to lie on his pillow. he has a feeling your statement only means more humiliation for him. despite that, he can’t ignore the tiny bit of curiosity that’s nagging at him. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

a knowing smile creeps its way onto your lips as you crawl to sit beside him. amethyst eyes meet yours, the brows above them raising in question. “you don’t remember me having to brush your teeth?”

“open,” you instructed rindou, poking his cheek with your index finger. he sat on the lid of the toilet, head lolling from side to side.

your simple direction went in one ear and out the other as rindou ignored your request. instead, he puckered his lips and leaned forward.

“we can do that later,” you assured him, gently pushing him back into his former position. “say ah.” you opened your mouth hoping that he would follow your example.

thankfully, he mimed your actions this time around. tipping his chin up, you began to brush his teeth. the process went smoother than the prep and the man stayed still as you cleaned each of his teeth.

“c'mon, time to spit.”

you helped him up from his seat and led him to the sink. too busy turning on the faucet, you didn’t notice rindou quickly approaching. his lips pressed to the side of your face in an open-mouthed kiss.

“rindou!” you pulled away, snatching the nearest towel to wipe the foam he left behind on your cheek and the corner of your mouth. he’s going to be the death of me, you thought as you tossed the towel into the hamper. you spun on your heel to face your drunk mess of a boyfriend. “i said later.”

“it was later.” his words came out jumbled due to the toothpaste lingering in his mouth. the froth was starting to drip down to his chin.

you sighed. “just rinse, please.”

rindou covers his face with his palms. his cheeks are burning hot; they must be visibly red. he would have been better off remaining clueless about the previous night’s activities.

“i’m never drinking again,” he said through a groan.

“aw, i thought it was cute.” you pull his hands away and flash him a smile. his rapidly beating heart calms at the sight. “but you should probably set a limit for next time. you’re kind of a handful.”

he huffs out a laugh. based on everything he pieced together and your first-hand account, “handful” is an understatement. he didn’t think it was possible for him to act in such a way but it seems that even the inconceivable was achievable.

you pat rindou’s shoulder. “you go shower while i make breakfast. unless you think you’ll need my help in there, too.” you jokingly wiggle your eyebrows.

he smirks. “are you offering?”

“god, you’re shameless.” your hand comes down to playfully smack his bare chest. you jerk your head in the direction of the bathroom. “go.”

you make a move to get off the bed and start toward the kitchen, but rindou catches your hand before you can leave. you look at your joined hands and then to him. a glint of mischief passes through his wisteria eyes. “are you really going to make your clingy, needy, handful of a boyfriend shower all alone?”

the flustered rindou who might as well have been wishing the earth would swallow him whole only minutes ago is nowhere in sight. as cute as that unexpectedly soft and affectionate version of your boyfriend was, you’d be lying if you said you preferred it over the side you’d grown accustomed to.

“fine.” you click your tongue. a beat of silence passes before you accusingly point your finger at him. “but i’m not doing all the work like last night.”

rindou drops your hand, opting to hold your cheek instead. “of course you aren’t. i’m going to make it up to you.”

thanks for giving this a read! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated :3

[honeyoru]

Too late (law x reader)

trying to practice writing one shots more in between my never-ending outlining for my WIPs.

law x reader, mentions of zoro x reader, sad boi law :( 1300+ words

“You-you what?” you shakily exclaim, looking over your shoulder to make sure neither of your crews could hear you. 

Law thinks he’s never been so open, so exposed as when he asks to speak with you, tugging you into the shadows on the Straw Hats’ ship during their party celebrating their last night as an alliance. He chooses to rip your heart out again, telling you with a deep breath that he loves you. 

Saying you’re floored would be an understatement. 

It’s logical, he thinks with clenched fists, fingernails piercing his shaking palms. I was the one who decided to break up all those months ago, after all.

You graciously moved on since then, burying the hurt you felt to joke with him again, tease him with your Captain, finally able to meet his eyes without that sorrowful, pity-filled look that told him you understood why he decided to break your heart like a coward.

He couldn’t believe he had allowed himself to grow so close to you, to share tender, intimate moments in the middle of the night, where he could drop the indifferent mask he wore around everyone else.

To fall in love with you. 

You, who he first met all those years ago during a supply run at a sleepy little island. You weren’t a pirate back then, but a doctor-in-training that thrilled him with your vast amount of medical knowledge, caring nature, and wit. It was clear to him even then that there was more for you out there than what the island could ever give you.

His crew had teased him mercilessly about the person he was attached to even weeks after they’d departed. It wasn’t until you had parted ways, promising to meet up if he ever stopped by the island again that he regretted not listening to his frail, dimly beating heart that had urged him to beg you to join his crew, the smell of your coconut-scented shampoo haunting him.

When he spotted your sweet, gentle smile on a Bounty Poster years later, he couldn’t hide the proud grin that lit up his face. Crossing paths with you seemed more feasible now that you too were on the Grand Line, and he refused miss an opportunity like this again.

And later on, the rare, public smile he displayed upon seeing you again in person promptly dropped the moment your captain slingshotted into him and started calling him ‘Traffy.’ 

Were you so desperate to leave your island that you joined the first crew who asked? He couldn’t help but think so after that initial meeting with the Straw Hats, who bickered with all the closeness of a dysfunctional family and utterly baffled him with their antics, wondering all the while how they managed to charm someone so talented and perfect like you.

It was because of you that he agreed to the alliance in the first place, ever so motivated to get revenge for Cora-san and win your heart in one fell swoop.

And when you kissed him for the first time since he had left your island in the crow’s nest of the Sunny, Law would never admit that he had gone to sleep that night smiling like that love-sick cook of yours, heart soaring at the idea that a happy ending for him was feasible.

It wasn’t until he watched your interactions with your crew over your time spent together that he realized the silly fantasy he had was never going to happen. You were too close, too bonded with the Straw Hats, to ever leave for someone like him. 

So when you confessed in the privacy of his room after months of dating that you loved him, tucked in his arms in the way that he had grown so fond of, he panicked and did what he did best to salvage the pieces of his heart that would surely shatter when you would inevitably rejected him after the alliance was over. 

He hurt you.

It was for the best, he told himself as he spewed horrible, untrue, nasty things to you that he was certain you wouldn’t excuse, even for someone you loved, refusing to acknowledge that deep down, he knew you never expected him to say the three words back anytime soon.

He accepted the harsh words and fists of your crew and moved on as much as he could, retreating back to the role of a spectator just grateful enough to bask in your orbit for a little while longer before you would part ways.

He’s drawn back to the present when you scoff in disbelief.

“Why now?” you demand, unshed tears blurring the rage in your eyes at his audacity, the wide smile you had been wearing all night nowhere to be seen. “I’m with Zoro now, Law, I’m happy,” your voice cracks.

He closes his eyes, swallowing the bile that rises at the thought of the swordsman he inadvertently pushed you towards, who looks at you like he would crawl through hell if you asked him to. “I know.”

“So why then?” You ask harshly, your arms crossed as if you’re trying to hold yourself together. “Are you trying to mess with me? To get back at me for moving on?” 

“No.” Law feels a pain splintering throughout his chest when a tear finally falls. “I just… couldn’t leave without telling you,” he mumbles.

You angrily wipe it away. “I’ve been nothing but kind and gracious to you,” you spit. “Hell, I’ve tried to act like what you said, what we had, never happened. For this alliance, for my crew, and for you so you could finally get closure for... you know.”

He can’t help but shudder at the memory of his mentor, the movement catching your eye. 

You take a deep breath and dig your fingers into your arms, forcing yourself to keep talking and not give in to the innate urge to wrap him in a hug. Law thinks he can hear a wood plank creak from where your boyfriend is no doubt eavesdropping around the corner, ready to step in if you need it. “Luffy wanted to end the alliance the minute he found out, did you know that?”

He didn’t but it isn’t surprising; the Straw Hat had given him a look so carefully blank the day after the two of you broke up that Law finally understood why the rubber man had such a dangerous reputation. 

“I know you were scared, Law, I was too,” you whisper, eyebrows furrowed. “Being loved after so much heartbreak is terrifying. But you made a decision on how our relationship would end without giving me the chance to say anything about it. And those things you said to me,” Law feels his lungs strain at the way your lip quivers in a bitter smile. “We could have made it work, you know, after the alliance was over,” your tone falls soft. “All you had to do was ask.”

It’s then with your admission that Law is utterly aware he’s made a mistake confessing to you. He thought it would give him closure, to finally admit what he didn't want to believe since he first caught your eye back on your island years ago.

Instead it was a slap in the face for you, a taunt that all of the suffering he put you through could have been avoided if he’d only been less of a coward.

You sigh, scrubbing at your eyes before looking at him with a pained expression, turning towards Zoro, who had quietly stepped forward to guide you away from him. “I hope you can find someone in the future that you can give your heart to entirely, Law,” you tell him sincerely. 

He swallows down the regret that burns his throat as he watches you and Zoro walk away. 

[feyhunter78]

Chapter Four - Jon goes to visit Old Nan and sets his future in motion.

Series masterlist

Jon dreams of you again, and again, and again, night after night, your back against the wall, bleeding out in his arms as you beg him to protect you. The time for him to set off for the Wall grows ever near, not too close, but not far enough away he can forget its approach. It plagues his mind, his desire to join his uncle, to prove that he is worth something, warring with an inherent need to be near you, to protect you from the horrors that live within his slumbering consciousness.

He has other dreams as well, smaller, less gory dreams, and when they start to bleed into his waking world, he turns to the only person alive he believes will have some semblance of an answer.

“Greendreams, they run in your blood.” Old Nan says simply, once he has finished telling her of his plight. Her needlepoint is in her lap, her frail body wrapped in thick blankets, even with the fire roaring beside her.

“Greendreams? But I am not a warg, Ghost, and I do not share a mind.” He protests, half serious, half humoring the old women.

“You need not share minds to have the dreams, nor do you need to be a greenseer to possess greensight, they are not one and the same.” She explains, her voice growing stronger as she speaks. “You must listen to these dreams, prevent the horrors if you are able.”

“I am to go to the Wall, but Lady y/n will return to King’s Landing, how am I to protect her?”

She fixes him with a look, one that he knows means she thinks him simple.

Jon stares into the fire, a silent prayer to the gods. He cannot protect you from his place on the Wall, he must make a choice, though he’s unsure if it is fully his to make. He alone cannot choose to return with you, he is a bastard, he has no place in King’s Landing.

Old Nan dismisses him without sparing a moment for his internal turmoil, and in his meandering, he runs directly into your father.

Tyrion looks up at him frowning, and Jon already fears he has spoiled his chances.

“My apologies, Lord Lannister.” He says, taking a quick step back to give the man room.

Tyrion scans him, searching him for weaknesses, his piercing green eyes, picking him apart. “My daughter, she is beautiful.”

Jon says nothing, only nods.

“Speak boy.” Tyrion snaps, glaring up at him with the might of a man three times his size.

“Yes, Lady y/n, is very beautiful.” He shifts his weight imperceptibility, hoping someone will come and save him from this encounter.

Tyrion nods. “She grows more beautiful each day, I worry for her, as all fathers do.”

Jon nods again.

“I know the circumstances of your birth are not…conventional, but they are many ways for a bastard boy to earn a name for himself in King’s Landing.”

Perhaps the gods had been listening to his prayer. “My Lord?”

Tyrion clasps his arms behind his back. “I have spoken with your father, he is to join my good-brother as Hand to the King and return with him to King’s Landing, he is bringing Lady Sansa with him, and you, if you agree to my proposition.”

Jon knew his father wouldn’t be able to deny King Robert anything, but to think…

“If you come to King’s Landing you shall come as my daughter’s guard, her sworn-shield, you will not leave her side, you will give your life for hers, and in return you get to escape your dreary life here.” Tyrion continues, giving him an expectant look.

“I am not a knight.” He says dumbly, the implications of what Lord Tyrion is asking him weighing heavily on his shoulders.

“Not in this moment, but my good-brother would be more than happy to knight the son of his dearest friend.”

“Why?”

Tyrion scoffs. “I offer the boy the chance of a lifetime, and he asks why? Because boy, I have seen you fight, and I know how deep loyalty runs in Stark blood, I will not worry for her safety if you are at her side. Besides, she is…fond of you.”

His heart sings, pushing all worries and tortured thoughts aside. She’s fond of him, his lovely lady is fond of him. “And my father approves, truly?”

“Yes, boy, he does, now will you give me an answer, or will we stand here all night while you ruminate in brooding silence?”

Old Nan’s words fill his head, accompanying the sounds of your sobs, of your pleas for him to promise you, to save you. “I will go.”

Tyrion nods. “Good, now we need to get you knighted, and some better clothing, my daughter shall not be seen with such a rumpled looking sworn-shield.

Jon looks down at his tunic. “I was asleep before this, Lord Lannister.”

“Still.”

It’s a blur, Arya’s anger then tears, Sansa’s distance, Robb and Theon’s claps on his back, Lady Catelyn’s strained smiles, and his father’s genuine one as he kneels before the king to be knighted.

The Great Hall of Winterfell is nearly empty, the bannermen returned to their homes, the servants busy cleaning or helping load the luggage of various royal family members back onto the monstrous wheelhouse Queen Cersei travels in. The sconces lit, his family and yours in a half circle surrounding him, King Robert at the center, Lord Stark beside him, Queen Cersi on the other. Prince Joffrey leers at him, but Jon ignores him, keeping his head bowed.

Ghost sits by his side, a red kerchief tied around his neck, a gift from you, one Jon was surprised Ghost allowed you to tie around his neck. It’s darker than the normal Lannister colors, more crimson than ruby.

He knows you and your father don’t have a personal coat-of-arms, but he has noticed your gowns, and your father’s doublets tend towards darker, more cool toned shades of red and gold. A small act of rebellion, a way to set yourselves apart? He’s unsure, but now he knows he’s part of that act, willing or unwilling.

It matches his eyes. You had said, smiling up at Jon as you smoothed down the fur between Ghost’s ears, the crimson fabric stark against his snow-white fur.

Kneeling before the King, Jon doesn’t feel he truly deserves to be knighted. He has won no battles nor performed any great feat of valor, he has trained, he has studied, he has been loyal, but he hasn’t done anything the bards sing about, or anything detailed in those books Sansa reads.

“Rise Ser Jon, shield of the Lady Y/N Lannister, bound before the gods, and your King.” King Robert commands once his sword has left Jon’s shoulders and returned to its sheath.

He does as he’s commanded and bows to the King before turning to you, bracing himself for the regret in your eyes. Surely this is a jest taken too far, he will look into your eyes, those verdant eyes, bright as spring, and see you realize you’ve made a mistake, see you ready to cast him aside.

“Lady y/n Lannister, daughter of Lord Tyrion Lannister the second son of House Lannister, my sword and shield are yours.” He says, taking a knee once more and finally summoning the courage to meet your gaze.

The persistent voice in his head that whispers how unworthy he is goes quiet. You’re looking at him with such reverence, such excitement, there is no sign of regret or jesting.

All that ran through his mind as he knelt before you now was this: he was not a poet, and he could not call himself a lover. For he did not have the skill with words others did. He could only say that he was yours, even if you did not want him, even if right now you fled across the continent, returned to the South, and cursed his name for all to hear. He would be yours until the day his breath escaped him for the final time.

“I am grateful for your sword and shield, now arise Ser Jon Snow, my sworn sword, my protector.”

When you bid him to rise, addressing him by his name, calling him yours the air that fills his lungs tastes sweet, and he presses his lips to your hand, clasping it a moment too long, evident by Tyrion’s sharp cough.

“I will serve you well, I swear before the old gods and the new, my life is yours.” He says, keeping his voice steady, his face set in an expression he hopes reads as serious but not stern. He’s always had trouble walking that line, finding he often looks far more sullen than he feels.

“As mine is yours, Ser Jon, I entrust it to you.” Your words are clear, ceremonial, and he would easily believe the words are typical of a sworn sword ceremony if not for the way King Robert’s eyes flicker to your face.

The next days fly by, and soon he is standing outside your door, red cloak marking him as a guard of House Lannister, hanging from his shoulders. It’s one that’s not darker than the others, which makes him feel odd. Did you not wish him to match you? Was he not deserving of your crimson fabrics? His armor is new and shined to perfection, his boots new as well, and slightly stiff, his sword hangs at his side as Ghost sits patiently waiting at his feet.

Lord Tyrion exits first, dressed in finery, a small satchel at his side. He looks up at Jon and nods. “Red suits you, do not make me regret this.” Then he brushes past him, heading down the hall and towards the main gates.

You appear next, form wrapped in dark red velvet, a white fur lined cloak folded over your arm, your gown belted with a chain of gold, that accentuates your waist and hips. Your hair is down in a Northern style he finds quite familiar, it looks beautiful on you, framing your face just so.

Jon jerks his eyes away before you can notice his stares and bows his head. “My Lady.”

You smile at him, your bracelets jingling as you reach down and hold your hand out for Ghost to sniff. “Are the others ready to depart?”

“Yes, My Lady, all but Lady Sansa.” He says, offering his arm to you.

You take it and begin to walk through the halls with him, your brows furrowed in concern. “Is Sansa alright?”

He thinks through his words, speaking slowly. He doesn’t want to give you a bad impression of Sansa, you seem fond of the younger girl. “Lady Sansa is…upset at the addition of Lord Theon.”

You snort, then hide your smile with one hand, embarrassed. “She did not expect your father to let him remain here, did she? He is an assurance the Iron Islands will not revolt, if he is not within Lord Stark’s grasp then what danger would he be in?”

He hadn’t thought of it that way. While Theon was an outsider like him, he existed in a space entirely different from Jon. Theon was Robb’s closest companion, the two shadowed each other, fought together, jested, and patronized brothels together.

“I think it is less that he is accompanying us and more that he is to be her guard.” Jon continues, half entranced as the scent of jasmine rises from your hair when you toss it over your shoulders.

“But he is not her sworn sword, so she will not have to spend every moment with him by her side. Besides, it is not as if he is unpleasant to look at.” You say nonchalantly, as if you two are simply friends having a casual stroll, your lips quirking up as you bite back a laugh.

You have perfect lips, plush and soft looking, stained a light red color by the berries from your morning meal, for a moment he wonders if you would taste of them.

“You find Theon handsome?” The words spill out before he can stop them, and he fights a rising blush when you fix your emerald eyes on him, taking him apart the same way your father did those few nights ago.

“Perhaps…” You stop right as you both reach the gates and turn on your heel, making a show of adjusting the fastener of his cloak. “Why? Do you feel threatened my sworn sword?”

“I—Theon is not a threat; he would never turn his sword against our house.” He cannot stomach the thought, though they weren’t close, he would never doubt Theon’s loyalty. The older boy had proven himself time and time again, in fact he believed Theon would turn his sword on himself before he turned it on Robb.

You pat his armored chest smiling up at him with a mischievous smile, before returning your hand to his arm and beginning to walk through the gate and towards the others. “We shall see how he feels if he and Sansa are stuck in the wheelhouse together for several hours.”

It’s begun to rain, the temperature dropping, and he wonders who will remain on their horse instead of taking shelter inside the wheelhouse. “Will we not ride alongside the wheelhouse? Theon and I?” Jon asks, scanning the crowd gathered outside the gates.

“You may if you so desire.” Your answer is vague, but your grip on his arm tightens and when he sees the assembled groups outside the Queen’s wheelhouse he understands why.

You, Myrcella, Joffrey, and Sansa along with the Queen, and Tommen seem to be relegated to the wheelhouse. King Robert and Lord Stark remain on their horses, the two in deep conversation, their heads bowed towards each other, while Theon sits off to the side looking bored.

Jon has never spoken directly with you regarding your cousin, the eldest prince, but he has seen your thinly veiled contempt for the boy many times, seen the way you shrink back when he becomes overly excited or angry.

You stop on the edge of the crowd, scanning it for your father, a pout appearing on your lips when you see him next to his horse. “And of course Father will wish to ride his horse, but he never allows me to ride alone unless we are within the bounds of Lannister land, so I cannot even use that as an escape.”

“It will be safer for you in the wheelhouse.” Jon says, nodding gratefully at the servant who brings him his own horse.

“For whom?” You grumble miserably as your father climbs onto his horse, ignoring Joffrey’s calls.

“For you, there is no other’s safety I care for.” It’s not a full lie nor a full truth, he cares for his father, Sansa, and Theon’s safety, but he has sworn himself to you, so outwardly your safety takes precedence.

The rain picks up, no longer a sprinkle, and he lifts his cloak, stepping forward to shield you from the rain. You are so much smaller than him, delicate, your hands are soft, your skin unblemished by scars, and you move closer to him, further into the safety of his cloak.

You coo at his words, your lighthearted spirit returning. “Do you care for me Ser Jon? I am flattered, truly.”

He brushes your teasing aside and begins to walk towards the wheelhouse, keeping you within the confines of his cloak. “Please allow me to escort you aboard, Lady y/n.”

You go with him, albeit begrudgingly, your frown reappearing as you draw closer to the wheelhouse. “Ser Jon, can I not ride with you? I promise I am a very good rider, and I will not bother you at all.”

“You know her father has quite the appetite for whores, I would not be surprised he had hired some to give his daughter lessons.” Theon had jested, elbowing Robb as you passed by, heading towards the library tower.

Robb rolled his eyes but laughed, which only encouraged Theon.

“What must it be like to have a lioness in your bed? Do you think she bites as she rides a man’s cock? Are lions not known for their teeth?”

“Their claws, they are known for their claws.” Jon snapped, unable to hear such vile words spoken of you, even if Theon’s questions did spark something in the recesses of his mind.

“Ah, see Jon is in on it as well. She scratches, mystery solved.”

“No, My Lady, I am sorry, but it is not proper.” He says, dropping his cloak and gesturing towards the stairs.

The disappointment in your eyes pierces him through, and he almost gives in, but Theon’s voice rings out from up ahead and he steels himself.

You nod and release his arm, traveling up the steps without looking back at him.

“Lady y/n.” He calls before he can think better of it. “If you have need of me, call out my name.”

You give him a smile and pick up your skirts, your steps looking considerably lighter, until the door closes behind you, and you are lost from his sight.

Jon TL: @mostclevermiss, @solacestyles, @2valentines

[thisantithesis]

something i wrote based on this art because i can’t help myself / jegulus, 594 words

It’s a rainy day when it happens.

James is at his favorite bakery, eating his favorite cake, mourning the loss of a beautiful sunny day that would’ve found him spending all his time outside.

As it stands, though, the skies are pouring out harder than they have in months, immediately soaking anyone who chooses to step foot outside. It’s on days like these that James usually finds himself hanging out with friends, all of them gathering together in one place and spending their time laughing themselves silly.

Today wouldn’t have been any different, but James has asked every single one of his friends, all of them giving him the same answer: sorry, I already have plans.

So, that’s why he finds himself at his favorite shop, eating away his sorrows and cursing the rain for ruining his day. He’s mildly upset, not really with his friends because it’s not their fault, and more with the situation as a whole.

James is able to spend time by himself, but he finds it’s always better to be with other people. The silence around him when he’s alone feels oppressive, to the point that it becomes unbearable. So really, finding himself in a public space when he could’ve used his free time to clean any part of his flat that desperately needs it is par for the course.

James is sitting at the window, watching people run along the sidewalks while trying—and failing—to shield themselves from the rain, when he sees him.

He’s the only one not running, covered by a simple, large black umbrella. While everyone else is rushing to their destinations, he’s walking, albeit at a brisk pace, but with a calm air about him.

The sight of the man takes James aback, where he has to blink once or twice more to make sure he’s really seeing this him, because there’s something about his aloof demeanor and piercing blue eyes that causes a wave of déjà-vu to crash over James.

This single moment in time stretches on forever when the man’s gaze flicks towards James’ through the window, a brief flash of emotion bursting through the pale blue. Their eyes meet and lock in place, and if James didn’t know any better he would think they were the only two people left on earth.

Meeting the man’s gaze feels like profound loss and extreme happiness, like home and hurt all rolled into one. The sheer strength of these unknown emotions hit James right in the chest, leaving him breathless and aching. The burst of emotions in the other man’s eyes expands and takes over, momentarily causing a misstep in his gait.

Everything comes crashing back down around James when the man turns his gaze away as he rights himself, breaking whatever connection they had. Time speeds back up to normal and the sound from the shop rushes back in, leaving James stumped as to what he just experienced.

The stranger never turns back around to the window, continuing his brisk walk in the rain as if nothing happened, as if they didn’t just share a very real moment. He has the strongest urge to go and run after the man, to stop him and ask if he felt whatever that just was too, but his thoughts are interrupted when he feels his phone vibrate.

James answers the call, absent-mindedly listening to the person on the other end, all while looking through the window and watching the black umbrella slowly fade away into the distance, inexplicably feeling like he just lost something significant.

[nanamin-nah-nanamine]

This is for the matchmaking, I'm a non-binary person in my early 20 who is extremely introverted, i struggle with social situations when I'm alone, i also struggle with depression and anxiety which makes life rather hard, i have been diagnosed with autism so when i get interested in something that tends to be my main interest for months if not a year or more. I am a very emotional person i cry at everything and anything honestly, due to being diagnosed with Autism very late in my life i have spent a lot of time masking, to make myself appear as normal as possible, so much so that i don't even know what I'm actually like normally. Even though i am a very anxious person i have a major case of Resting Bitch face, so much so that some of my friends told me they were scared of talking to me at first because they thought i look mean.

I'm a very creative person, i love expressing myself in ways that don't have anything to do with talking, i also love fashion and i usually dress in a mix of goth and comfy clothes, though comfy clothes usually overtake my need to look fancy due to major dysphoria so i usually opt for large hoodies. My hair is currently in a chin long undercut which is a kind of very light pink/purple due to the colour fading over time, i have green eyes, wear glasses and have a septum as well as tattoos. I'm also currently a major in art and Theatre, mostly focused on painting. I am a theater kid at heart, i love musicals and have acted in a few myself. I'm also Pansexual so i will literally just go for anyone I'm interested in no matter the gender.

Hi pookie! I apologize for the wait cause finals were a bitch but they’re finally DONE

Aight now lets get into this

Due to the information provided you will be matched up with…🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

My lovely chosito osito!!(ignore everything that’s happened in 259😀)

Okay now walk with me🚶🏾‍♀️

I feel like you and Choso would really vibe together for numerous reasons. Choso is an eldest sibling so he’s incredibly patient and he’s proven to be very nurturing so I feel as though it would be second nature for him to always be thinking about you and how things might affect you. I think lil homie also has anxiety so he would be able to relate to you on that level, and since so much of this world is completely new to him you guys would be able to bond over the lovely overstimulation of day to day life.

From one autistic person to another I really feel like Choso would understand a lot more than some of the other characters? Idk I just get that vibe from him. He’s very blunt and straightforward, doesn’t cut corners in his explanations and he’s also got one hell of a resting face so I feel like he wouldn’t take lack of expression personally if you’re ever feeling burnt out.

Like I mentioned prior this boy is 🗣️NURTURING

He basically had to sub in as mom,dad,brother for all of those siblings so he’s got you bby don’t worry. I feel like he can be really protective and overbearing at times though but if that crosses a like for you then you just need to let him know. He’s no stranger to tears and he has no problem scooping you up in his arms and letting you cry it out.

If you wanna yap about a new hyper fixation you better believe Choso will listen!! The world is new and exciting and even though the bright lights and media tend to give him headaches, he can’t get enough of you relaying him the information because he’s kinda obsessed with you ngl.

Y’all with be THAT alt introverted couple who everybody is kind of scared of but are actually sweethearts. Once Choso figured out about department stores and piercing parlors it’s over for you bitches.

He thinks your tattoos are so cool and he’s kinda just like fascinated by the entire process. If you ever choose to get more he would wanna go with you but he’d be holding your hand and staring at the tattoo artist like this 😠

I also feel like he would definitely respect your pronouns once he wrapped his head around them because he is just not from this era so it’ll take him a bit😭 it’s genuinely just pure ignorance and not disrespect but he WILL get the hang of it.

Activities you do together include….

•going to see musicals and live theatre(he will be enchanted or overstimulated, it’s a 50/50 on this one)

•staying inside✨(a fan favorite)

•p i e r c i n g d a t e s

•painting!! More or less so him watching you paint but it’s the thought that counts🥰

[halfelven]

Arwen, Elladan & Elrohir for the character bingo? :D

Love the way you write the peredhel and your thoughts on them generally!!

- main of @olorinestel

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

repeating i do not have a saviour complex i do not have a saviour complex i do not have a saviour complex (< lying)

okayyyyyyy sooooooo. let’s start with arwen. when i first heard the goes to lie down alone in an empty land to die story i didn’t speak for several hours and i was still feel the pain of it and can taste the scent of fallen pine needles and see the golden sun on the warm bark of the shaking trees. i’m screaming and crying and throwing up. she is not like me. i do not get the falling in love thing. i’m checking mommy and daddy issues bc of what happened to her mom and the whole separation thing with her dad. i do think they were great parents

also she is insane. and it’s so good. especially with piercing gazes striking little hobbits and all that. close connections to her insane grandparents. whatever the hell is going on with her and aragorn. obsessed.

look elladan and elrohir came out the same but i’ll go with elrohir first

here’s where i do NOT have a saviour complex comes in. i did not read about them at five years old and dream of knowing violence and loneliness and peril to save people.

anyways babe gets mommy reasons for obvious reasons. daddy issues bc of the immortality or not reasons. do i think he would actually punch me? doubtful. but he’d probably stop me if it were the wild and he didn’t know if he could trust me. i didn’t choose my name partially bc it’s similar to his btw. i didn’t pretend i was elrohir and my sister was elladan and still have our nicknames set from theirs in my phone btw.

i don’t give a fuck what tolkien says!!! his name is star-rider!!! and it’s a tribute to earendil. tolkien can fucking fight me!!!!

god riding through the wilderness to tell aragorn hey daddy says we should go through the paths of the dead. elvish wights. dark magic and a fucking ghost army. i’m sooooo normal about him. i can’t picture every detail of his clothes and i have never pretended hallucinations were him until i wasn’t scared of them anymore. never had dreams about him that don’t even feel like dreams either. i’m so sane and normal. i don’t hate him because the self imposed pain he takes to protect the world hits too close. don’t relate to saving my mother from torments but not being able to save her either.

on to elladan

same mommy and daddy issues. again he probably wouldn’t actually punch me but maybe he would under certain circumstances.

i included a lot of the insanity when talking about his brother because they go together in a lot of that. also never had super weird dreams about him that took too long and had too much reading in them. only normal dreams.

but seriously i think the immortal thing with half elves goes a bit to their head. like the being able to live for thousands of years but you could drop it? insane.

also gonna fight tolkien bc i swear all three of them were kids at the same time. like seriously fight me tolkien. (i think i could take him)

again i’m soooooo normal about him. nothing about throwing everything aside to make my life about a singular purpose (or maybe not singular. protection and revenge. also you have to look at orcs as metaphors for this to work*)

stopping now or this will be too long. have to put it under a cut as is

*i like my ideas of what orcs are better than tolkien’s. i actually much prefer a few of my systems in fantasy to his. and i prefer my own fantasy world to his over all

thank you for the ask and for liking how i write them!!! they are some of the characters that got me through a lot of things and i will always love them even if i also write them suffering

[orion-wave]

Title.

Hijikata underestimated the scale of the raid. The tip that he got from his subordinate Yamazaki was that there was only twenty something people assisting the transfer of drugs from the Amanto ship onto earth. When the squadron got there he realized they were trapped with more enemies to fend off.

A canon was pointed towards the direction of Hijikata as his bloodied body leaned against a wall for support. There were large gashes on his arms and legs, a stab piercing through his abdomen, and his vision was fuzzy. He couldn’t see where the other members of his team were and he was left all alone.

‘This is the end huh.’ He thought to himself. There were regrets filling his head, of how he couldn’t tell Kondo-san a farewell, or how he never was able to spend his savings on mayonnaise, or how he the remainder of his family wouldn’t know if he was still alive or not. Hijikata sat down as the canon infront of him charged up. He closed his eyes, breathing in the fumes of the gunpowder and the scent of blood that filled the area of the ship.

He heard a large boom go off and felt his emotions go along with it. He was embracing the pain that was going to be elicit onto him. But instead, through his closed eyes, the brightness of his surrounds gets darker. He opens his eyes and sees the back of a man. A wavy silver haired tall male dressed in a navy blue Chinese jacket with navy blue slacks that complimented the top. He had a burgundy umbrella that shielded Hijikata and the male.

“Vice Commander are you alright,” the man infront of him said. He turned around and Hijikata met his eyes. His eye color matched the color of the umbrella but they didn’t glow and were dead like that of a fish. The silver haired man lend out a hand to him and propped him onto his feet. “We have a little bit until the canon charges up again, let’s get out of here my kids took care of the enemies,” the man continued. Hijikata felt as the silver hair man put his arm around his shoulder and he felt the mans hand on his waist. Hijikata limped his way off the ship the remainder of the members followed him out.

The two men arrived at the dock and Hijikata watches as a crimson haired girl point her umbrella to the ship and saw bullets fly out of the tip. ‘Who the hell are these people,’ Hijikata thought to himself. Next to the crimson haired girl was a black haired boy with glasses who was inquiring if the man who was holding him, which he picked up his name was ‘Gin’ was okay.

“I’m fine Shinpachi, Vice Commander over here needs some help though,” the man said.

“I’m fine….” Hijikata breaks away from the grip. He’s able to stand on his own but still was in immense pain.

“Vice Commander can talk huh? I was starting to think you were mute,” Gin smirks at him.

“Who are you guys?” Hijikata inquires.

“Well. My name is Sakata Gintoki, I am new to this town and run a Yorozuya business with my two employees Shinpachi and Kagura.” the man Sakata Gintoki says.

“…And why are you here?” Hijikata asks deeper.

“Well, as someone who takes up any tasks, we got assigned to one because a mother wanted revenge for her dead daughter that overdosed on those Amanto drugs.” The man said.

“You know thats illegal, you can’t just give vigilante justice Sakata-san.” Hijikata stated.

“Well, we saved your asses so I hope you guys can cover us. Won’t you Hijikata-kun. Or do you want me to send you off to the afterlife if you defy” Gintoki taunted him. Hijikata sighed, Gintoki wasn’t wrong. Without the help of the Yorozuya he wouldn’t have been able to live or make it off the ship.

“Fine. What happened here stays here. We won’t involve you into anything but that doesn’t always mean the same. Watch the fights you choose Yorozuya the law isn’t always gonna let you free.” Hijikata lights up a cigarette as he walks away from the umbrella trio.

____

After their first meeting running into the Yorozuya was a common encounter. At least once a week the men would be in the same establishment doing something similar to one another. Whether it be food or drinks or leisure the men had a similar taste of relaxation.

Today he met him at a izakaya. Gintoki was sitting at the bar with a bottle of sake in front of him and a plate tempura to compliment it.

“Oi Hijikata-kun, want to share a drink with me?” The silver haired man asked. Hijikata sat a chair away from the man and ordered himself a bottle of sake with two glasses. He poured himself one and passed the other glass to the Yorozuya man. The two men cheer’s the porcelain glass and shot back the liquor. It burned his throat, it felt nice.


Gintoki’s had a warm blush on his face and it complimented his silver hair well. He wasn’t wearing his Chinese clothes like usual but instead a blue and white yukata. The Yukata fell off one side of his shoulder and it exposed the black shirt and slacks with red stitching underneath it. He saw as Gintoki poured the men another glass of sake from his stash. He moved his plate of snacks in-between them and Hijikata helped himself to a tempura battered string bean.

“Why do you have an umbrella with you always.” Hijikata broke the ice between the men.

“Well, I’m not exactly human, us Yato can’t handle the sun so we use an umbrella. But it comes in handy you know? This thing can shoot bullets and shit but I prefer my bokuto. Kagura-chan always yells at me for not bringing my umbrella with me” Gintoki was rambling.

“Yato?” Hijikata questions. “Yes Yato. We are a strong Amanto clan that is known for fighting. I don’t know if you’ve heard of Umibozu the Great, he’s one of the popular Yato” Gintoki replied.

“I’ve… heard of him. He’s an alien hunter right? Hijikata says.

“Yeah. He’s Kagura’s dad but he never is in her life. At this point I’m raising his kid for him” the man sulked. Hijikata let out a small chuckle seeing the pouty face of the silver hair man.

“So what made you come to earth?” Hijikata asks. “Well, I was tired of killing to kill, and I wanted Kagura-chan and Shinpachi-kun to have a more friendly life, so I thought earth is the best place to experience that.”

“I see. I see.” Hijikata takes another shot of sake. “So what about yourself? How did you come to be Sakata-san.”

“Drop the formalities Hijikata-kun, you can just call me Gintoki-kun” the man replied. “And to answer your question, I don’t remember much of my life. From the day I can remember I was an orphan and Umibozu took me under his wing. I learned to fight from him and all. And then when him and Kouka had their children I was their older brother figure to those brats.” Gintoki smiled warmly. “And then Shinpachi-kun came into my life when I found him dying on the battlefield. And then my goal shifted from killing to protecting the Yato clan from unneeded deaths. We are already going extinct and if we give into our bloodlust we will kill each other off” the man went silent.

Hijikata could tell Gintoki had one too many drinks to drink because he was here narrating his life story. But it made him sad, he could feel the pain in his eyes and his desire to protect what he can. They were indeed very similar to one another as the two men sought to keep what they had and not lose it stupidly, even if it meant to cost of their own lives.

The night ended as the two men finished drinking and headed their own separate ways back home.

_______

Gintoki was strong but lazy. Whenever he ran into him the man was dozing off or messing around. He saw him outside Pachinko parlors, or outside sweet shops, or reading Jump at a random park bench. Hijikata saw how his kids would attack him for being lazy and would complain how he would never pay them. The people around him seemed to hate his personality but yet they were all attracted to him for some reason.

When Gintoki said he worked a Yorozuya job, he really meant it. One day Hijikata will see Gintoki running a convenience store when he’s on patrol and the next day he would help to fix a house’s roof. Sometimes he would come across a Gintoki who had been bandaged and injured which he presumed came from his job. Everyday seemed unpredictable with the man. The two men shared a sense of connection with one another. Sure he hated Gintoki’s lazy personality and snarky attitude but nevertheless he was able to respect the man and his choices.

The Yorozuya members seamlessly tied with the Shinsengumi members. The young Yorozuya girl, who Gintoki called a glutton child, would always pick fights with Sougo and the only normal person from the three was the glasses boy. He never realized how much their lives intertwined or how nice it felt to not be an outcast in the town. The two establishments never clashed with one another but yet some tasks they were working hand to hand with each other.

Hijikata saw that Gintoki was amazing at fighting with any weapon, he can wield a katana or a naganita or even just fend off people with his physical body. When the two men fight side by side with each other it’s almost harmonious, and he never has to look if the other man was safe. He could just trust that his back was always clear when Gintoki was around.

Sougo and Kondo-san joked about how Hijikata was developing a crush. It was irritating and he could never understand his emotions. He waved it off by thinking it was just his loneliness speaking.

_____

It was 3am at the barracks and Hijikata is awoken from his slumber with a loud thud from the garden. He grabs his katana as he steps outside his room. The sound felt too loud to be an animal but there was only one that resonated the area. He scanned through the darkness as he sees a lump of flesh by the water pond. Hijikata unsheates his katana and creeps closer to the flesh, ready to strike at any movement.

Through the darkness he can see pale hair and he smells blood from the flesh. He kneels down and sees a bloodied Gintoki laying on the ground.

“Oi, Yorozuya what happened are you okay,” Hijikata panics, dropping his katana to pick up the man bridal style into his own room. Despite Gintoki having a lean figure, the mans body was heavy. He stepped into the barracks as he places the man onto the mat. Through the lamp light he gets a better vision of the man’s body. There seemed to be a large gash on his abdomen and his arms and legs have been littered with cuts and slices. The man was breathing heavy in the pain and could barely form a sentence. 

“Wait here, I’ll get the first aid kid” Hijikata heads out and grabs the essentials and a bottle of whiskey from the shelf. He steps into the room and opens the bottle for Gintoki to drink. He props the man up against the wall so he has an easier access to tend to his wounds.

Hijikata removes the man’s Chinese jacket and slacks, leaving him in his boxers. He looks up to Gintoki who has a small smirk on his face. He could imagine what monologue was going on in his head, probably teasing him about how this scenario looks like it’s out of a porno, but he pays no mind. Hijikata uses a wet rag to wash off the dried blood on his body and he can hear a hissing sound from the other man.

“Drink the whiskey it’ll help ease the pain” Hijikata doesn’t look at his face and continues to tend to his body. He can hear the cap opening and Gintoki gulping down the bitter whiskey. Hijikata prepares the thread for the stitches.

“I’m sorry but this will hurt” he whispers as he punctures the needle into the side of the gash. He can hear a loud ouch from the man and hears more alcohol being drank from the bottle. He gets to working on the injury and sows up his wound. He cleans up any remainder blood and applies the bandages to cover the stitch.

“Are you some kind of doctor” Gintoki finally speaks the first sentence of their day. “…These stitches are amazing.” The man admires.

Hijikata laughs. “Back when I was young, when people called me Baragaki Toshi, I would get into a lot of fights and had no money to go to a hospital. So instead I had to learn to stitch up myself. Over the years I’ve gotten better because a lot of the Shinsengumi men would come to me in case of an emergency stitching” Hijikata responds.

“Well, I can see why Vice Commander.”

“You know I am going to have to write up a police report right” Hijikata whispers.

“I assumed you would, I’d rather deal with that than going home and getting a beating from Kagura and Shinpachi for doing something wreak less” Gintoki laughed.

“I never thought I’d see the strongest man I’ve ever met injured like this” Hijikata admired. “I’m the strongest man you know?” Gintoki replied and a blush grew onto Hijikata’s face.

“Well, I am strong but I am not immortal. There was too many people to fight and I was an idiot on going alone. But the kids wanted a day off and I can’t force them to work. You understand what I mean Hijikata-kun” Gintoki looked into his metal blue eyes. Hijikata knew very well, the two men were similar. Hijikata has had countless moments where he would deal with things alone just because his subordinates wanted to relax. He never gave himself that leisure however.”

“ wanted a day off.

“Lay down, I’ll get some change of clothes for you.” Hijikata says as he moves away. He felt a hand grab his wrist and he looks back into his red eyes. Gintoki’s hands cup the side of Hijikata’s face as he pulls him into a kiss. Hijikata doesn’t realize hes kissing him back with as much force and before he can realize hes on top of the Yato man. The two break from their kiss and catch their breath. Gintoki pulls him down for another kiss and Hijikata lays to the side of him.

Hijikata’s reasoning is all gone, he knows he shouldn’t be kissing an injured person like this, yet alone at the barracks, yet alone it being a man. His sexuality was always up for debate. Hes found people attractive but hes only fallen in love once. Hes had sex before but its always as an act and emotionless. Today was different though, he felt intimate and he let the Yato man devour him up. Their positions changed as he was now lying on the ground with the Yato man above him, towering over.

“Is this okay Hijikata-kun” Gintoki asks. Hijikata lets out a nod. “But. If you start bleeding it’ll be over.” Hijikata warns. Gintoki dives back into his arousal, kissing Hijikata neck and stripping him out of his sleepwear.

[captain-daryn]

Yikes. Someone obviously doesn’t know what a fucking pronoun is…

To put it simply for your teeny tiny brain to understand:

Boys go by the pronouns he/him (usually)

Girls go by the pronouns she/her (usually)

Non-binary people go either by they/them pronouns or there are neopronoun options (xe/xim, etc.)

Some people have mixed pronouns (gender-fluid/demi-gender go by he/her/them (or any combination of those) or he/they or she/they, etc.)

Pronouns are for gender identification.

Or would you rather kids call each other penis-havers/vagina-havers? Because I wouldn’t want that. I would rather kids be calling each other by their pronouns.

If a child is named Alexander, but they prefer to be called Alex, then you’re going to call them Alex. Or if they prefer to go by Alexander and don’t like their name to be shortened, then you call them Alexander. Or maybe they would prefer to be called Xander. Or Lexi. Or Alexa. But if someone prefers their name a certain way you are going to call them by that name right?

Why can’t you just do the same for pronouns?

Why does it matter what pronouns someone wants to be called? Does someone’s choice for their body really affect you that much?

Let’s say you are lactose intolerant, but I’m not. You can’t say I’m not allowed to drink milk because it makes your stomach upset. I can drink milk all day long and it’s not going to affect you at all. My body, my choice with what I do with it and to it.

It’s the same thing for pronouns and names and clothing preferences and abortions and drug use and diets/eating habits and piercings and tattoos and plastic surgery and hormone injections and alcohol consumption and so on.

You have no right to tell me what I do with my body. You have no right to tell me how I identify myself. You have no right to tell me what I can eat, drink, smoke, or not eat, drink, or smoke.

By the way, trans people can still get pregnant or get others pregnant, IF THEY CHOOSE TO. Not every trans person WANTS kids.

But to add to this, I think you are forgetting about adoption being an option as well for trans folks. They can still be parents! (Wow! What a concept! It’s almost like there are millions of kids out there who don’t have parents, or are not able to live with their parents for a multitude of reason (parent death, substance abuse, domestic violence situations, etc.)) (Some trans people can be step parents too btw)

If this is a religious standpoint (at least Christian, idk much about other religions to speak for them, and I am not a religious person but I was raised in a religious area), then the only person you need to worry about is yourself and your choices. You can influence people but you cannot make choices for them. If they end up in hell it is not your fault. If you end up in hell it isn’t anyone else’s fault but your own. YOU made choices for YOURSELF in YOUR lifetime. Judgement is supposed to be between God and yourself. Not everyone else. God told everyone to love each other and be kind, not to refuse to give them basic respect. Basic respect includes identifying someone the way they want to identified as.

[ghostofnibelheim]

honorisen​:

“ Huh!? ”

Zack would’ve apologized for how surprised and sudden his tone had probably sounded at that, but he couldn’t stop his double take. The additional, tacked on choice had been so far removed from what Zack had been expecting someone like Sephiroth to say, that Zack’s countering with a “ -‘Scuse me? ” had fallen out before he’d even been able to hold the thought back.

“ But I can’t just take your room! That’d probably be even more awkward than trying to take over Genesis’! ” Zack had let himself blurt another counter out again, but this time he’d caught him with a nervous stutter and a quick wave.

“ U-Uh! Not that I’m saying you’re worse than Genesis! I’m sure your room’s great, but…it’s still your room! And you’re still here! I can’t just kick you out of something like that because a few people wanna give me the clearance to stay up here. ” That seemed rude, and as nice as the tucked away penthouse was, Zack respected Sephiroth too much to take advantage of him like that!

Sephiroth’s room was his own and Zack would settle for living very gingerly out of Angeal’s if it’d come to that. Sephiroth would probably understand that much, wouldn’t he?

The initial implication that choosing his room may be a worse pick than Genesis had Sephiroth frown slightly and half-turn his face to give Zack a not-so-subtle glower, piercing in the eyes despite the otherwise absolutely apathetic rest of his features. When the brunet quickly caught himself and rectified his own words, Sephiroth’s expression changed.. slightly.

To confusion.

“… No ‘few people’ are giving you clearance, Zack. I am.” Lazard had disappeared, Genesis and Angeal were gone. The one forced to pick up the pieces and take the temporary position of director of the SOLDIER department had been Sephiroth and no one else. Needless to say, his reasons for it were completely personal too.

“…And, I only said you could stay in my room.” The silver-haired corrected him carefully, with a short shake of his head. “… Not that I’d get kicked out of it in the meantime.”

He was still not sure how the brunet had reached such a conclusion, and that silent question hadn’t left the crease of his brows as he regarded his colleague with arms crossed over his chest.

[bumbleklee]

Hi! I love your work and I’ve been binging it for a while! <3 I was wondering if I could have some angst and a broken heart since it seems I like to suffer. ;’) Can I have headcannon with an insecure adventurer reader who’s in a relationship with one of the Mondstadt boys (or just the dark night because I’m down bad since he didn’t come home). They are insecure because while they are a great adventurer, ever since the traveler came, they’ve been living in the traveler’s shadow with everyone, even possibly the readers lover, praising the traveler. The reader takes on increasingly difficult missions, even putting their life on the line since they feel as though they have to prove themselves. In an attempt to stop the reader, the Mondstadt boys tell the reader that they aren’t the traveler, but instead of the good intent behind it, the reader takes it as if their lover prefers the traveler and decides to try and give up adventuring since they realized that not once did their lover go on an adventure with them, but they did with the Traveler. This was long, I’m sorry, but feel free to reject it! Stay safe and healthy!

hey!!! a few little notes: i ended up going with just diluc and instead of hcs, i wrote a little one-shot. i hope you enjoy it and i hope i nailed your idea lol <3 enjoy! (requests are open)  also: u will pull diluc!!! and thank u for ur support :3

before reading: 1.8k words, little mentions of blood but nothing graphic, kinda angsty w feelings of despair (tw?? idk), under cut for length

The first time you realized you had fallen into Lumine’s shadow is when your weekly commissions are given to her. Jean didn’t give you much explanation when she sent you home for the day but you could only assume it’s because Lumine could do them better

The second time is when you were absent for a weekend to clear out Hiluchurls from Wolvendome and when you returned back to Mondstadt to share the news, everyone was preoccupied helping Lumine find her brother.

The third time is when, despite your tireless efforts to protect your hometown this year, Lumine was chosen as the Windblume Star.

You had gone from the Knights of Favonius' greatest knight to a mere shadow. Your accomplishments and achievements felt like nothing when compared to Lumine’s and you became desperate to be known again. You watched your teammates pick Lumine over you, choosing to accompany her on adventures, and your friends constantly chatting about how amazing she was.

And, well, she was.

Lumine was beautiful. She was delicate and soft and fought gracefully, while you often came home covered in dirt or blood. And she was kind - so, so kind. She offered her hand to you on multiple occasions, never once seeing you as the threat you saw her as. And beyond her looks, Lumine was passionate and strong and everything you were not. She had everything you had and more except for one thing.

Diluc.

But when you saw Lumine sitting at the bar in the tavern, sharing a daring story with your boyfriend, you became doubtful.

From your seat on the second level of the tavern, you had a perfect view of the pair. Diluc looked happy - perhaps even happier than with you - and your heart broke. Would Lumine be the end of an era between you and Diluc? You loved Diluc to death and all you wanted was for him to be happy.

The truth was, you were running out of patience, running out of fake enthusiasm and fake laughs and fake smiles when Diluc bragged to you about what Lumine did that day. The constant praises and compliments towards a woman who wasn’t even in the room tore you apart bit-by-bit. You were finding it harder to get through each day as Diluc slipped through your fingers.

When you finally broke your silence, you talked to Kaeya.

It was an accidental breakdown - Kaeya had made a cheeky comment about how his brother was spending an awfully lot of time with the traveler and you just broke down. Realizing the severity of the situation, Kaeya pulled you into his office and closed the door. He let you sit at his desk until you calmed down.

“What’s going on?”

So, you told him. You finally let out the bottled up despair and, frankly, jealousy you had been holding in for the past few weeks. You told Kaeya about how you went from ‘hero to zero’ and how you didn’t even deserve to be a knight anymore.

“If I’m not a knight, I don’t have a purpose,” You said solemnly. “I haven’t picked up my sword in a month, Kaeya.”

Kaeya makes a noise of acknowledgement and urges you to continue.

“And I can’t stand how she’s better than me! I’m the Revolutionary Knight - not her!” Despite your angered words, you’re suppressing panic deep in your chest. “She’s already taken so much from me and she’s going to take Diluc.”

“Diluc loves you,” Kaeya reassures you. You’ve never heard his voice this soft and serious before. “Nothing Lumine can do is going to make Diluc ever stop loving you.”

Deep down, you knew that. You knew that Diluc loved you and planned to marry you one day, you knew that. It was just hard to convince your heart of that. As you stared down at the floor, you heard Kaeya sigh.

“Maybe you just need to show him you’re just as good at Lumine.”

That night, you packed a bag before Diluc got home from the tavern and left for Liyue. You would fight the Cryo Regisvine and bring back Diluc a hoarfrost core. He would see your heroic nature and forget all about Lumine - they all would.

***

When Diluc came home that night to find your absence, he began to worry. You were never one to leave without saying anything so Diluc rushed to the Knight’s Headquarters quickly. He was fortunate that Jean and Kaeya were still there finalizing some paperwork.

“Master Diluc?” Jean asked, rising from her desk as Diluc rushed inside her office. “Is everything alright?”

“Y/N is missing,” He said quickly.

“Missing? Are you sure?”

“Yes! They never go anywhere without telling me,” Diluc continued. He noticed Kaeya avert his gaze and snapped his eyes over to his brother, “Kaeya, what do you know?”

“I may have told them to do something heroic to win you back,” Kaeya said, realizing his idea may not have been the best.

Diluc’s eyes widened, “Win me back?”

Kaeya sighed and explained what was going on with you. Diluc’s heart dropped into his stomach and he couldn’t believe how stupid he had been. He should have been praising you, not Lumine. “They mentioned something about the Cryo Regisvine-”

Diluc didn’t let Kaeya speak another word before he took off. You couldn’t have gotten that far and when Diluc noticed the darkening weather, his feet picked up their pace.

***

A fierce gust of wind made you cover your face with your arms. Out of nowhere, it started pouring rain but you wouldn’t let that stop you. You pushed through the impending storm and made your way down into the cave where the ice monster lived. You gripped your sword tightly as the monster sensed your presence and unraveled, turning the downcoming rain into shards of ice that landed on your skin like needles.

Without much delay, you charged the Cryo Regisvine and landed three hits on its corolla before one of its leafy arms wacked into you, sending you hurdling backwards. Your sword was knocked out of your hand and you struggled to catch your breath.

More sharp icicles pierced your skin and a spray of freezing air coated your skin. Yet, you still managed to grab your sword and stand. Your hobbled toward the monster again and when the same leafy arm came towards you, you slashed at it.

The monster let out a screech and retracted itself before slamming it’s head down towards your body. You dodged the first hit but were caught off guard when the second hit knocked you off your feet. You barely had time to roll away when it slammed it’s head down a third time.

“Y/N!”

Diluc surged forwards, grabbing your arm and forcefully pulling you to your feet. Your sword became lost from your hold and the sudden movement caused the blade to scrape down your leg before clambering to the ground again. A nasty gash was left and you seethed.

He couldn’t even think as he pulled you away from the monster. You had never seen Diluc move so fast. He didn’t let you go until you were both far enough from the cave to feel secure. Diluc’s arms wrapped around your shoulders tightly and you were too stunned to say anything.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Your mind felt foggy. You tried to open your mouth and speak but no words came out.

“Do you realize how dangerous that was?”

“I just...Lumine…”

Diluc pulled back at this and stared in your eyes. You couldn’t quite match the emotion on his face. “You’re not Lumine!”

His words cut deep and you felt tears soak your eyes. Maybe if your head was clearer and you could actually hear your thoughts, you would have realized Diluc didn’t mean it that way. But the only thing consuming your mind was that he was right. You weren’t Lumine and you would never be Lumine. “I know!” You cried out suddenly, “That’s why I have to go and kill that thing! So I can give you a hoarfrost core and you’ll love me again!”

Diluc only looked at you. His hands ran down from your shoulders to your hands and he brought your left hand to his lips. You heard him sigh before kissing your knuckle gently.

Your wet hair was dripping water down your face in freezing cold droplets. At that moment you felt useless. You weren’t able to fight the Cryo Regisvine and bring Diluc a hoarfrost core. He would leave you for Lumine and there was nothing you could do about it.

“You’re hurt,” Diluc said, motioning to your leg. In your desolate state, you had forgotten about the gaping wound on your leg that was pouring blood. “Come on - we’re going home.”

You were too upset to protest and let Diluc maneuver your body onto his back. You loosely wrapped your arms around his neck and relished in the warmth his vision released. You held onto Diluc like it was the last time you ever would.

The walk back to Mondstadt was silent and when you two arrived at your shared house, Diluc let you down on the couch. You could only stare at your lap.

“I’m sorry,” You finally mumbled, “Next time I’ll finish what I started.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Diluc said sternly, “No way you’re ever going there alone again.”

Your face stiffened into annoyance. “I’m the Revolutionary Knight - I can do it.”

“No, you can’t.” His words seemed cold and unusual but they were coated in concern. Diluc reached up and cupped your face with his large hands. You tried to pull away but his grip was firm, “It’s okay.”

The situation was suddenly overwhelming and far too much to deal with. The tears you had been holding back tumbled down your cheeks and your words were choked between sobs, “Lumine is so perfect and I’m not...I don’t want you to leave me...I know I’m not good enough but-”

He stopped your rambling with a kiss. “Don’t ever think you’re not good enough,” He whispered, taking you into his arms. You hid your sobs in Diluc’s chest as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. Eventually, your cries settled.

Diluc spent the rest of the night dressing your wound and laying with you in your bed. He didn’t stop comforting you until every horrible thought about yourself was gone from your mind. In the morning he would talk to you more but for now, his job was to make you feel strong again.

And it would take a while but one day you would come to realize that you were just as good as Lumine and no one could truly compare to you. Like the storm on that horrifying night, this too would pass.

[xamaxenta]

Ah that god ascension au I briefly mentioned yesterday, warlord Ace who is godless, dies on the battlefield and ends up in the halls of judgment

Convinced this is just his delirious death throes, Ace decides to go through with it, it doesn’t mean shit to him and if he’s dying it wouldn’t matter anyway

He’s wrong

Judgement deems him worthy to pass onto the domains, something Ace recalls one of his soldiers talking about, if you had been good, you would be able to enter the domains and beyond the houses of the gods themselves

Ace doesn’t think he’s been good, he’s taken, slaughtered and razed down innocents for his own goals, for revenge at its core, why would he be allowed to pass through the gates of justice toward the endless domains?

Again he’s wrong, there is a trial of fire, fire being something all living creatures both mortal and divine should fear, but to Ace, fire is all he’s ever known, it’s how he died actually (he died via flaming ballista bolts piercing him through:(( ) and so he steps into the flames and accepts them as his own

It takes a long time before he awakens again, but when he does, his blood burns and turns his veins white hot and embers crackle at his fingertips, ash and smoke cloud around him with each breath and the irony is not lost on him, the godless becomes a god

Judgement waits for him at the gates and says nothing when Ace passes through, he must meet the rest of his pantheon now, the house he was adopted into is vast with many sons and daughters both the named and the nameless, he must be powerful for he is named

His first contact with a god who would later introduce himself as the personified spirit of welcome and connection, his sacred place is in doorways, windows and passages, the beginning of things and it is through him that Ace learns he is the avenging god, the god of blood and the god of tears

to this Ace asks why though? And the god of welcome, Thatch smiles enigmatic, secretive, that’s just how Pops works (lets be real Pops just chooses random people to join them and Ace was the latest one, he just went LMAO this kid doesnt believe lets make him a god! Guarantee it would be funny as fuck, And Judgment (Izou) is like :) as you wish father)

Anyway Ace learning his godhood and gaining followers!!! He’s not exactly keen on who they are exactly, people pray to him for protection from themselves, their pain, it’s very difficult because he sees himself in a lot of his followers, he wishes he didn’t have to watch over these kinds of people because he hates himself but maybe along the way he realises this is exactly why he’s here, to give to those what no one could himself, his title later on may become the Defender and the reason why blood doesn’t have to mean familial, people can bond between fire, it’s where they gather at the end of the day

So Ace turns to make his sacred space the hearth, for warmth and for family, if those who follow him gather by the flames he will not turn them away

Fun how he goes from an angry, violent, murderous thing to something more nuturing, peaceful and protective as he realises his role it makes me happy to think about it

[youryanderedaddy]

Yandere! Butler x Princess!reader

tw: female reader, obsessive/possessive behaviour, provocative behaviour (reader), implied non - con, silght self - hate (situational)

 Maybe you weren't the most mature among your siblings - you weren't the smartest one, the strongest one or even the most elegant one and on top of that you were the youngest child. The princess in the shadows, the cliche old as time of the heir last to the throne, forgotten and neglected by everyone. Except for him.

 Perhaps you had done something wrong this time - everyone called you spoilt, ungrateful, out of line before, but now they wouldn't even come to visit you, leaving you all alone with your thoughts. You soon came to the conclusion that no matter how annoying you had been in the past weeks, you didn't deserve this sort of punishment. You hadn't seen your family for a long time now and you were starting to miss them. Your butler had almost taken the role of a caregiver, bringing you food, lecturing you and informing you of everything happening outside of your small pink room. It was frustrating, infuriating - you weren't a child anymore yet you were treated like one. You were sure it was one of your father's doings, no one else would be cruel enough to put you under home arrest - you were royalty after all.

 "Is it because of what I said to the Nordan prince on the Royal supper last month?" You asked Leo while he was folding your white shirts for the third time today. You briefly recalled telling the foreigner to fuck off when he tried to kiss your hand, absolutely creeped out by his flirty behavior. But the butler simply shook his head without lifting his gaze off the clothes and kept working.

 "Is it because I tried to bring my baby tiger to the spring ball?" You tried to guess again, looking through your memories for all the little tricks you had pulled these months. You never thought of yourself as a troublemaker but your parents usually pointed otherwise. The butler parted his lips in a slight smile and looked straight at you with his deep piercing eyes, unnaturally warm despite their cold gray colour.

 "I can't share this sort of information with you, My lady." He replied softly and discreetly fixed his glove - but you noticed anyways. The man never hesitated to notify you of the latest trends and gossip from the High Court, but became so secretive when it came to your family and their decisions. You didn't want to take it personally as you knew well that a part of his job was to be cautious and careful with sensitive information - but this involved you directly and you desperately needed to know why you were forbidden from leaving your room.

 After a few long minutes the boredom took over and you signed dramatically, laying down on the soft puffy white sheets, embroidered with golden and red string.

 "I want to do it." You admitted loudly, stretching your arms to the side. No one of importance could hear so you didn't care about manners or decency. "Find me a lover." You ordered firmly, staring at the silent man across the bed. Some twisted part of you wished to see him flustered, red-faced at your provocative request, but surprisingly, this wasn't the case.

 Leo's expression remained strict and professional, his demeanor - perfectly elegant. The only hint that he had heard your command was him slowly approaching you, eyes set on your frame.

 "You have never asked for such a thing before, My lady." He pronounced clearly, now standing right in front of you. The man was so close you could make out the golden buttons on his black classic coat and the bitter disappointment in his pupils. "Please, remember your position." He continued, his voice breaking out of its learned monotone robotic tone for a single moment, but the words were still painfully similar to the ones you used to hear by your father back in the day when he scolded for doing what all the normal peasant kids were doing.

 "I don't care." You spat out with poison you weren't aware of - maybe the royal life wasn't for you after all. Not that you had a choice in the matter. "I want to be held and pleasured until down by someone skilled. Make sure to find a pretty one." You added lastly, giving the butler a sly smile and running your tongue along your lips for a better image of what was to come despite all the warnings he could give you. You were tired of being denied the simple joys life could offer just because of your status. And at the end of the day the man was nothing more than a mouthy subordinate with too much arrogance and free time on his hands. He couldn't stop you, not really.

 "I am afraid I cannot do that, princess." Leo stated in a stern voice, his gloved hand touching your face gently, in a barely noticeable way. "I can't let ordinary people taint your beautiful soft skin with their filthiness. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if someone else ruined your purity, My lady." The butler whispered, his finger moving along your cheekbones down to your hot neck. His words were so bold and daring, but there was something about the way he was looking at you that made you determined to put him in his place - even if his warm touch made you sick to your core. You couldn't raise the white flag just yet.

 "Then would you corrupt me?" You snapped back at him, ready to perform your best role. You fluttered your eyelashes, rocked your hips towards the man and wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to his strong, muscular body, hidden underneath the expensive fabric. "You seem worried about other men using me so maybe you are the one deserving..." You paused to lower your voice seductively while you watched his handsome face wrinkle in sadness and heartache. "Of this body." You finished the sentence by smirking victoriously. You knew that it was wrong to take it so far and mess with Leo's feelings but this little stunt made you feel better about how little in control you actually were most of the time.

 "It would be an honour, My lady." The butler responded unexpectedly, a slight blush adorning his cheeks, while he reached to brush off a lock of hair, covering your eye. He caressed your face lovingly. This wasn't right. He should have been disgusted by you, threatening to tell your father or even worse - but instead the man was placing small kisses along your jawline.

 Maybe you should have told him it was a joke. Maybe you should have tried to fight or scream or call for help. But what difference would it make - no one cared enough about the youngest child. Even if you died, there were many other options to choose from.

 You can't help but wish that Leo too would realise it was pointless to adore someone like you. If only for him to stop touching you so tenderly it makes you cry. It's the first time that someone shows you genuine affection. It hurts and it makes you sick, but it's better than being forgotten. Or so you tell yourself again and again in the darkness of the night. You can't fall asleep.

[shotorozu]

TITLE : hospital stay

PAIRING : bakugou katsuki x reader

SYNOPSIS : you’re in the hospital on your boyfriend’s birthday, and bakugou seems to have no issue with spending it in there.

WARNING(S) : MHA MANGA SPOILERS ‼️ (recent arc)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, a quirk similar to the avatar but that’s about it.

note(s) : so, it’s bakugou’s birthday. and i had this idea since march 20 😦 so i’ve been waiting for his birthday to come for literally a month but i didn’t want to post this way too early. alsooo i don’t know if this arc happened near spring but lets pretend it did for the sake of the story

When you woke up, the fluorescent lights were the first to hit your face

Following by the incoming beeping of a monitor, and the sudden throbbing of your head, the dryness of your throat evident.

Blinking slowly (or trying to, your other eye being a bit delayed.) you try recalling what just happened. You’re in a hospital, that’s one thing you know, but the specifics are still unknown to you.

Right. You remember now, you were fighting along side your classmates, and you managed to get blasted away when you thought that shielding Bakugou Katsuki would work. Yeah, you were sure that you were going to get an earful from him, if he—

You jolt when you notice said blond standing right next to your bed, vermillion eyes staring deep into your own, and somewhat— you could feel the weight and intensity in the stare

“S-since when did you get here?” You’re startled, and your voice is hoarse. Bakugou doesn’t formulate a response, and chooses to avoid the question as a whole.

“Finally you’re up.” He rolls his eyes. He looks much better than you remembered, despite having a few bandages on his forehead— he looked well. “It’s been 5 fucking days.”

“Five days?” You question out loud, your sense of time all disorganized. You clench your hand, just to see if your quirk was still working. Seeing air, fire, water, and just.. something, would relieve your worries— but a look from the blond shot you down quickly. You decided that it was wise if you didn’t try.

The blond seems to be done with the conversation, since he immediately walks out of the room. Actually, why was he here? You’d expect him to be laying down in bed, but despite being hit with that beam, he was walking around like everything was fine.

He comes back with a few other nurses, and they’re relieved to see that you’re awake— and even though they’ve bombarded you with questions with how you felt, you couldn’t brush off the feeling of a pair of ruby eyes on you.

Just, glaring. It’s nothing abnormal.

When the nurses finally leave you alone, giving you details of a few injuries— like your injured— well, burned eyelid that honestly stung (it came from the fire aspect of your quirk) you would’ve expected to be alone in your hospital room for the rest of your time there but Bakugou stayed.

“You’re going to tell me why you jumped in front of me?”

You were expecting to be questioned by him, after all— what you did didn’t exactly shield him, since he was also pierced. You didn’t expect the interrogation to be happening this soon

“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to fucking know.” And he suddenly changes his mind, just like that.

You would’ve said impulse as an answer, but you doubt that he would’ve taken that seriously. And besides, you were kind of glad he changed midway that he didn’t want your answer. Your voice feels parched, despite chugging down a glass of water earlier.

“Did you check up on Deku?” You cringe when you hear cracks in your voice, and the dryness is unbearable to your throat, but he nods. “Idiot’s knocked out cold.”

He doesn’t mention the fact that you were one of the last few people that were still rendered unconscious.

“Your throat sounds like the sahara desert. Do me a favor and drink up.”

You blink owlishly at the glass of water that was set on the mini table, and when you drink up— it actually does something to relieve (temporarily) the dryness.

It was a consequence of your quirk after all, using your quirk too much would cause your body to feel sore, and everywhere to feel dry, and he knew that.

Bakugou was acting uncharacteristically, and you just don’t know why. Maybe it’s not so uncharacteristic of him, since he’s been less of an asshole as of recently, but you know that he would probably deviate from the question if you asked, so the both of you sat in silence.

—

It’s the next day, the same as yesterday— except it looked like dawn when you woke up. Bakugou also appeared at the side of your bed once again, almost as if he was there for quite some time.

“Nice to see you too,” You think to yourself, and you’re glad you didn’t actually say that out loud. You try to stand up straight, but Bakugou’s quick to push your back against the pillows.

“Don’t sit up, that’s idiotic.”

“Right, sorry. How did you get here? Isn’t it too early?” The parched throat came back. Though the ‘magical’ baku-water helped, it’s effects were only temporarily, sadly.

“You call 7am early?” Right, because for him— 7am isn’t that early, you even remember seeing him up at 6 sometimes.

“Actually, wait.” You blink, trying to recall what day it was, and what month it was. You recalled it being spring but.. was it March? or was it April already?

“What.. day is it today?”

It was almost like he was hesitant to say, “..April 20.”

“What the— April 20?” You’re appalled, because the last time you remembered, it wasn’t anywhere near April 20, but maybe it’s your 5 day unconsciousness to be blamed. “Isn’t it your birthday?”

“Shut up,” He mumbles, and he shifts around the room in search of something, but it’s too dim to be able to tell.

“Medicine. The nurses said you should take it now.”

You don’t reply.

“It’s for your Sahara desert throat. The other things are for your fucked up eye and injuries.”

That seems to be enough to convince you to take the medicine, and despite wanting to run away screaming from the bitterness, you take the medicine— not wanting to be met with any consequences

“Why are you spending your birthday here?”

“Do idiots like you ask that many questions?” He shoots back, and you’re unfazed by the fact that he just called you an idiot. You wouldn’t blame him.

“No but.. you seem fine.”

“A few days ago I was not, but now I am because I took medicine.” He walks over to untwist a few medicine caps, it appears to be for your eye.

“So, Does my eye look fine?” You bat your eyelashes just to mess with him, and he flicks your forehead with an ointment cap “No.”

“Sorry, sorry,” You laugh, choosing to completely ignore the sudden sharp pain when you laugh.

He bends down to reach eyelevel, “Can you see?”

“Sorta.” Your eye has this thin blur filter to it, that can’t be good— can it? Going blind in one eye, and having to wear an eye patch.

It was almost on cue, because Bakugou says “You’ll be rocking the pirate look if you don’t take your medicine,” Instead of handing the medicine for you to apply, he quickly applies a decent amount around your eyes— not giving you a warning whatsoever.

You wince slightly, but you’re glad it’s over. But why is he playing nurse with you? And why was he brushing off the fact that it’s literally his birthday.

—

Through out the entire day, Bakugou continued to act as if he had some responsibility over you. From helping you put on your medicine, to just monitoring you with eyes of a hawk. The fact that he chose to ignore all your protests was just a part of him.

His behavior was also very.. interesting. It would swing from being his usual self, to being this eerily quiet and calm Bakugou. You would’ve guessed that you were having a fever dream, if it weren’t for the fact that he wore his usual scowl on his face.

What remained consistent, despite it all— was that he stayed. He ate lunch in your room. He only left when the doctors and nurses asked him too, but that was only temporary. He stayed with you the entire day, even when the clock stroke 5pm.

But it’s quite literally his birthday? Why would he spend it in a hospital room with some extra? Or idiot? Let alone, why would he take care of said idiot/extra on his birthday? You don’t know because he refuses to tell you on why he spent it here.

“Did you at least get some cake or something?” You ask for the umpteenth time, Bakugou’s paced back and forth for some medicine bottles and bottles of water, and you could tell that he was scowling, despite the fact that he was facing the other direction, “Why the hell would I want cake? You’ve been asking weird shit all day.”

“Because it’s your birthday? Seriously— have you been brainwashed into thinking that it’s not your birthday?”

“What— fuck no. I haven’t been brainwashed.” He turns over to you, “I know today is my birthday.”

“Okay, so you know. Why aren’t you celebrating then? Did people forget? Or am I finally going insane?”

Bakugou chooses to stay silent. He stands up, and walks over to you— everytime he moves closer, you could feel your heart pound, luckily not at a dangerous rate.

“Birthday, birthday, birthday” He grumbles, quiet, but loud enough for you to hear. “That’s all you’ve been talking about. As if like you weren’t the one in the hospital bed as we speak.”

“Okay, is it wrong to remember your birthday?”

“Shut up, I didn’t say that.” He gets closer once again, almost to the point that your faces weren’t that far away.

“You’ve just been so concerned about my damn birthday, that you haven’t even taken a good look at yourself,” He gestures at you, by looking you up and down

You finally take observation of all of the gauzes, the IV tubes, and bandages, his words forcing you to look at what was reality.

“I don’t know why you did what you did, jumping in front of me like some kind of heroic bastard, it’s dumb. For all I know, I should be screaming at you, and wishing you the worst for that.” He clenches his fist when he recalls, the scene replaying in his head

“But what I am saying is that, you can give me a gift if you’re so fucking concerned about my birthday. It’s the least you can do.” His statement is solid enough for you to take him seriously. You wouldn’t have if he was scowling, but it’s quite.. different. An expression you’ve seen all day, but seeing it up close is a different story.

“And that would be..?” You gulp, anticipation bubbles

And just like that, he presses his lips against yours, the warmth of his lips sending shocks of warmth all around your body— the impact was abrupt, but the kiss as a whole was surprisingly gentle

Yet, it was also similar to his quirk, it sparked up spurs of need and sent goosebumps all over your body.

You place a hand on his shoulder, the tubes around your arms making it too difficult to wrap your arms around him as you deepened the kiss, Bakugou’s touch is cautious when he lays his hand on a spot that was the least affected, aware of your injuries. Pushing the small of your back with his hand quite gently, he kisses you like it’ll be the very last— even though you both know it won’t be.

When you both pull back, you’re taken aback— unable to think of coherent words, and a proper response.

But this damn bastard, he smirks at you knowing that he just sent shocks and explosions of intense feelings all around your body, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

“Wait, that’s unfair!”

“What?”

“I had no idea you even liked me!”

“For the fucking longest time I did, why the hell would I even be in some extras room, if I didn’t care about them?!” He tries not to yell too loudly but, the tone of his voice gets raised

You blink, “And you preferred playing nurse with your crush this entire time, instead of spending it properly like well.. everyone else?”

“Who the hell said— Fucking hell, do I have to kiss you again for you to understand?”

“Enlighten me,” Your mouth quirks up into a smile, which ultimately causes his cheeks to be set ablaze.

“Playing fucking nurse with you isn’t horrible. It’s one way to spend my birthday, even when you give me shit about it” His brows press together, trying to drown out his flustered expressions with a scowl, “There’ll be more birthdays to come, so why would I be ‘wasting’ it here? There, that’s it. You happy now?”

Silence.

“..More than happy. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about your thing for playing nur—”

“Don’t you fucking finish that thought,” He says stern. “I’m going to get the nurses to check on you, and then— I’ll go home and come back again, tomorrow.”

He storms off, and when the blond is sure that he’s not in your line of vision anymore— he slumps against the wall

“Fucking hell, they’re driving me crazy.” He mumbles, recalling what he had pulled off earlier.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[merakiui]

Frostbite

yandere!childe x (gender neutral) reader art credit - GNSN_FA on twt cw: yandere, blood, minor gore (lacerations), unhealthy behaviors/relationship, mentions of death/hypothermia, fighting

It’s borderline animalistic, the way you cling to warmth and life like a starved, neglected hound. Your fingers stiffen in a vain attempt to flex—to successfully grasp your sword like a true warrior. The furs that were once draped over your body are ragged, torn to shreds from a dangerous battle between the elements and him. There’s no mistaking the excitement that lights his every nerve like bulbs hanging from a Christmas tree, coated in the maddening swell of potent bloodlust. If surrender was an option, you would have done it long ago.

Even then, you’re certain he wouldn’t give you such a benevolent chance no matter how hard you were to beg and plead.

Your breath materializes like a phantom in front of your face, a cruel reminder that you’re still breathing in a battered body. Your fingernails are chipped, blood running down the tips from an icy struggle, but you refuse to succumb to the cold. Instead, you allow yourself to be swept up in his electrified stare. 

“What’s the matter, comrade?” There’s a wry smile pulling his chapped lips apart, showcasing flawless teeth aligned in a perfect face. Despite the brutal wear of this current fight, he’s still handsome. And that makes you sick. “I thought you said you’ve gotten stronger. If I wanted a real battle, I would’ve challenged one of my subordinates and that’s nowhere near as fun as this!”

Keeled over in the snow, your lungs burning with each rattled inhale, you struggle to meet his eyes. The deathly chill of the Snezhnayan climate claws at your exhausted form like the porcelain fingers of a skeleton. You might as well surrender to the freezing temperatures. After all, the frostbite is far kinder than the fighting machine looming over you, the toe of his boot nudging your trembling self. 

“I... I am strong,” you manage to say before the dangerous wind pierces your throat like a dagger. Like the icicle Childe’s wielding, a happily convenient reaction between Hydro and Cryo elements. You cough and crimson paints the snow. “Strong. I’m strong.”

“Then get up.” There isn’t any warmth in his tone. Cold like ice and devoid of his former playfulness. Under all of that nonchalance, a fierce, chiseled warrior lies in comfortable wait. When his eyes trace your hunched form and he spots the blood that dribbles past your lips, practically freezing as soon as it makes contact with the frigid air, those dull hues widen. Surely he’s hit a weak spot, a vital organ or something close to a fatal blow. He wonders for a brief moment if you’re afraid of death. “You’ll freeze if you don’t move.”

A flash catches your attention and then there is the flow of suffocating water. Sharpened blades of ice surround you on all sides, nearly scraping your arms, so you force yourself onto unsteady legs. Internally, you’re searching for a way out—for a way to give up before you bite off more than you can chew. This sparring match wasn’t your request, but you had been a fool to accept, having been so certain of your strength and wit. But you aren’t accustomed to Snezhnaya, whereas Childe has spent years of his life here: training, learning, and fighting until he was worthy of the Tsaritsa’s praise. 

With sloppy movements, you cut through the ice as if it’s butter, eternally grateful for the sharpness of your trusty sword. You can’t tell when this fight will end, but you hope an opening with present itself. As soon as it does, you’re running as far as your frozen legs will take you. Like a feral beast who fights desperately against the unfair hands of the Grim Reaper, you stumble forwards, slashing blindly at your target. He’s thoroughly amused with your struggle, having seen this sort of desperation many times before on the battlefield.

It’s a depressing thing, knowing you’ll be destined for failure and yet you still push onwards. As if that will turn the tide of this battle in your favor. Childe almost admires your persistence, but it isn’t all that special. He’s seen it all before but not quite in the way you portray it. Your despair is far more delectable than that of any low-ranking Fatui soldier. Childe could bask in this for eternity and he’d never grow bored. To have you by his side as his punching bag—it excites him just a little too much. 

Naturally, the more he spars with you, the more he’ll grow accustomed to your attack and defense patterns. A strategy is only worthwhile if it rakes in victory. No matter the cost. No matter how many fall and grovel, begging for their pitiful lives. In a way, his moral compass is rather skewed. He supposes that makes him a bad person, but he’s never been one for the hero role. 

Childe taps your shoulder and you whirl, slicing upwards with your sword. The blade cuts the air, not the torso of the man who jumps back with such deadly precision. The expression he’s wearing haunts you: a wicked smile, pupils blown wide with the thrill of life and death, and a blooming bruise from where you managed to hit him in your earlier scuffle. In any form, he looks good, be it blue and purple, red and pale, or even frozen stiff by the very ice that reacts to his Hydro abilities. You can’t stand your weak heart, as you’re well aware of the face he’ll bear tomorrow. Friendly and disarming, a total opposite to the grinning madman twirling water-turned-ice blades like they’re circus batons. 

Like always, you’ll return his kindness because you’re a fool. Because you like the soft, wholesome Childe that cares lovingly for his family—the side he’s displayed in rare instances that glimmer beyond the gilded portrait of a battle-hardened soldier. 

You fall hard on your back, landing in the thick snow with a wheeze. There is no warmth on the battlefield. Only pain, suffering, and the certainty of death. You push yourself to get up, but your muscles won’t move, too heavy and sore. You know you’re strong—you’ve faced many opponents before and you’ve lived to boast of your successes. You can beat Childe. You have to if you intend to avoid fights with him in the future. 

“Well, this is upsetting.” He’s frowning now, idly tapping the crystalized water while he circles you like a sharp-toothed predator. “Didn’t expect this to end so quickly.”

Liar. You already know I can’t beat you, you want to say, but the words escape you. Not yet, anyways.

A sneer splits your dry lips and blood trickles down your chin like a woeful river. You don’t need a mirror to witness the damage. 

“Teucer won’t like this,” you say, staring up at Childe with dead eyes, hoping to prod at his weak spots. If the mention of his brother affects him, Childe doesn’t let it show.

“He doesn’t have to know,” he retorts, brushing aside such a possibility with ease. 

Right. Because you expect me to put myself back together like a toy. Of course, almighty Childe, the greatest toy salesman in all of Snezhnaya. 

“Well.” You pause to exhale and pain shoots through your side. Through your bleary gaze, you can see a deep laceration. Blood stains what’s left of your attire, and you move your rigid hands over the wound to prevent anymore blood loss. “Congrats. You won.”

“You’re giving up?” Bewilderment flashes across his face for an instant before it melts away into an emotion you can’t place. Anger? Sadness? Is he unhappy with this win? 

“What does it look like? I can’t possibly fight with these injuries.” 

It hurts to speak and you wish he would just stop. If he could accept the outcome of this battle, this wouldn’t be such a problem. You’d be able to patch and heal yourself up before your condition gets any worse. With the chill seeping into your open cut, harshly kissing slick, wet blood, you doubt you’ll make it inside before passing out. Vaguely, you recall the unfamiliar stages of hypothermia. At worst, if you stay out in this fatal weather, pinned like an entomologist’s butterfly under Childe’s monstrous gaze, you’ll freeze to death. At best, you’ll escape, build a fire, and warm up to the best of your ability. Weighing your options, you’d rather lose a finger or a toe as opposed to your life. 

“You can fight.” His blade is at your throat, the pointed tip niggling into your jugular. It’s more of a threat than a warning, a means to spur you into action. “You’ll never get stronger if you’re always running away, comrade.”

Your life has some value; Childe just can’t see that. In his eyes, a fight should be seen through to the very end, even if it’s marred in death and destruction. Yet here you are, choosing to abandon your pride. That must have some strength in itself, right? You hate his face, his childish nature, and the fact that his everything is making you reconsider. You’re doomed to fail if you continue to push your frostbitten body past its natural limits. 

“I...” The blade slices along your throat, a mere surface wound. You can’t feel the sting or the sticky blood that spills out like flowing tears, having become as numb as a fish-eyed animal near extinction. “Childe—“

You don’t want to hurt him and he knows this. It twists his insides like a knife in flesh, turning and turning until organs pop and leak into soupy conflict. The blade leaves your throat and another harsh wind blows between the two of you, glacial and prickling. He distances himself, tracking your form in case you happen to move. You’ve stopped shivering at this point, lying flat on your back and staring up at the dark sky. Snowflakes cling to your lashes like the hands of death, pulling you closer to an invisible grave. 

“You can fight.” Is that desperation in his voice? You almost laugh at the idea. He’s not a desperate man; he doesn’t need to be when he has it all. “Get up, comrade.”

“I think...I’ll stay here,” you whisper, your heartbeat irregularly slow. You’ve never counted the beats before, but now it makes for a fun distraction. “Good job, Childe. You’ve definitely...”

Gotten stronger.

You possess strength, just not the type Childe wants to experience firsthand. He has no use for a lonely, unseeing corpse. And when your eyelids flutter, closing upon a face that reflects frozen death, he releases a sigh. His blade falls at once, landing in the snow with a thump, and he bends down to gather your fallen frame in his arms. Somehow, whenever he spars with you—whenever he’s within touching distance—he feels alive. As if you’ve breathed meaning into his frostbitten soul, warming the cold beast that lurks and pounces at the sight and smell of fresh bloodshed. 

If he’s learned anything, it’s that there’s always going to be room for improvement. You just need to train more, and he’d be over the moon to fight you until it’s your blade slicing through his skin. In the meantime, though, he’ll have to kiss color and life back into your monochrome world of death and despair. 

As the greatest toy salesman in all of Snezhnaya, it’s only fair if he repairs the damages done to his favorite toy. Break, repair, and repeat. A cycle befitting a messy relationship and an even messier slew of choices. Rinse and repeat, like waves licking up a carcass bound to the shore. 

Come morning, you’ll be shiny and new, ready to sit by his side for another leisurely ice-fishing outing. Childe isn’t known as the greatest toy salesman for nothing, and you’re just barely scraping by with each battle scar and bandage—courtesy of such an illustrious, experimental toy salesman.