#and apologies all.. i am v behind with asks as per Usual i have been hiking. v fun v arduous. was almost lost to a chasm. but all is well x | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

houseof-harry · 4 years ago

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Missed You Too | G.D.

Part 3 of Hate You Too!!

A/N - hello!!!!! part 3 of my hyt series!!! v proud of this part tbh, and dropping it at 2:30 am bc I can’t keep it to myself any longer. lots of love as always pretty pls lmk what you think!!! (read the last part here) (amazing gif by @vintagedolan as per usual nothing but the best by the best)

Word Count - 8.8k

Warnings - the nasty as per usual, mentions of not a great family life

“Why have you been trying more vegan stuff?” Kacey asks as you walk down the refrigerated aisle of the grocery store. You’d just put egg replacer in your cart after examining it for five minutes.

You shrug, looking at the various food options as you pass by them. “I don’t know, I’ve just been intrigued by it lately I guess.”

“Is the boy who gives you the glow vegan?” You roll your eyes, because this has been Kacey’s way of not so subtly poking around in your life to figure out who made you cry. She’s only seen one person make you cry: your dad. So the fact that a ‘random kid’ has seemed to do it for you, she’s pushing hard.

Because it wasn’t just that night that got to you, it’s been almost every day since. For almost a week straight, you’ve been moping around and going through the motions of life because the thought of Grayson truly hating you was making you really fucking sad. And that’s terrifying.

You had been pretty good about hiding it, you thought, until Kacey knocked asking why you were crying when you didn’t know she’d gotten home from Ethan’s one day. And now she needed to know what caused you your pain.

So you told her it was a random kid you’d been talking to. She didn’t believe you for a second (rightfully so, it was a terrible lie) and she wouldn’t leave it alone. You loved her and her passion, but sometimes you wish she’d let it go.

“I don’t know if he’s vegan or not. Everyone’s cutting out animal products more and more these days and I thought it’d be cool to try it myself. Is that such a problem?” You snap at her and she just huffs and pipes down for the time being.

You guys make it to the produce section after venturing through the various aisles in complete silence. You’re inspecting peppers when she speaks up again.

“You can’t hide him from me forever, you know.”

“You really think I can’t?”

“Y/N, come on.” She nudges you, making you meet her eyes and you see the genuine concern in them.

You let out a breath, picking your peppers and putting them in the cart. “I don’t even know what’s going on in my head with all the shit that’s happened, how am I supposed to tell you?”

She frowns wrapping her arm around you in a bit of an awkward side hug, the cart sandwiching you against the various vegetables.

“Maybe talking it out with me will help? When did it start? When did you meet him?”

You purse your lips, not sure how much you’re willing to reveal to her. Because if we’re being honest, Ethan is going to hear about this. And if they put two and two together, Grayson will soon know you’re having all these feelings over him and that’s the last thing you could want.

“I’m not supposed to like him, that was never what we were to each other. I don’t like him, I don’t think. Or I didn’t. But when I pissed him off and he left? I don’t know why, but it just-” You shrug, sighing and grabbing the cart to keep walking around as your emotions quickly bubbled to the surface after being hidden deep within you for so long.

“Isn’t that what they always say, though? Love comes when you’re not looking for it.”

“Oh jesus Kacey,” you laugh, pausing to grab some onions. “I’m not in love.”

“Hey,” she holds her hands up in defense as she watches you bag the onions. “All I’m saying is I’ve never seen you so into someone before. Even when you talk about your exes you have less emotion than with this guy.”

You toss the onions in the cart before continuing to push it along. “But I shouldn’t be into him. I wasn’t into him. I can’t tell if I’m blocking my feelings down and that’s why I’m confused or-”

“That’s definitely the problem,” she laughs as she picks out the fruits she wants for the week.

You huff in annoyance because you know she’s right, but you don’t want to let that be true. “Maybe I just really like his dick.”

The old lady next you scowls before shaking her head and walking away. You and Kacey giggle with each other as your cheeks blush a bit.

“I don’t think any dick is that powerful. Not when vibrators exist - fuck no. You’ve got the feelings glow.”

“Stop, Kacey,” you groan, halting your movements to look at her. She raises her brow at you and crosses her arms. “I don’t have the feelings glow. You get that shit for someone you’re gonna love. I could never love this guy, I-” you shake your head and blink a few times to quell any frustrated tears that have popped up. “I can’t love him. He was a good fuck. Is a good fuck. In fact-”

Before Kacey can react, you’re phone from your sweatshirt and typing away.

“Y/N what are you doing?”

“Proving that’s all he is.” You lock your phone with a satisfied grin.

“What the fuck did you just do?”

“Set up a dick appointment. A no strings attached, feelings-less dick appointment.”

“With the guy?” At this point you’re speedwalking the cart to the check out with Kacey trailing behind while she tries to process your rather reckless actions.

“With the guy,” you confirm.

“You’re gonna regret this,” she warns.

You sigh, locking your phone again after seeing his response.

“Maybe.”

***

“You’re in a shlump dude.”

Grayson was cuddled deep into their couch, blankets all around him and an almost completely empty pint of vegan ice cream he had picked up the night before.

Ethan had just come in from a midafternoon run, his sweaty and bare chest heaving as he stood in front of his brother with his hands on his hips. They were polar opposites right now, and Grayson hadn’t even realized. Not until Ethan’s comment makes him look down at himself and back up.

He merely sighs, leaning forward to put the ice cream on the coffee table while Ethan watches.

“Is it the new soulmate of the month?”

Grayson looks down at his phone, no new notifications on his blank lock screen. He doesn’t realize that he’s zoned out until Ethan’s snapping in his face with a questioning look.

Grayson shakes his head, groaning and rubbing his hand over his face.

“Bro, I don’t know.” Ethan sits next to him, leaning back as he drinks some water. “She’s not-” he huffs, doing his best to collect his thoughts because he truly has no idea how to explain you or his situation to Ethan without revealing that it’s you. Because as much as he loved his brother, he knew Kacey knew about everything in Ethan’s life. And Ethan’s life is Grayson’s life, and vise versa. So it would only be a matter of time before Kacey knew and then you’d know and he had no idea how you’d react to him having any type of positive feelings towards you.

“Who is she?”

“You don’t know her,” Grayson is quick to respond, almost too quick, but luckily Ethan doesn’t push it.

“What’s so special about her that she has you eating ice cream on a Friday?”

Grayson looks at the sweet dessert resting on the table with a disgusted look, only realizing now that he feels bloated and definitely indulged a bit too much.

“I don’t know, dude. She’s not like anyone I’ve ever talked to or dated which is why I’m fucking confused. I shouldn’t like her.”

Ethan laughs, shaking his head. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he picks up the ice cream and takes a spoonful into his mouth himself. “There’s a reason why you’re not with anyone you’ve talked to or dated in the past. And there’s a reason why someone so different from those girls is making you feel a lot more. Grow the fuck up and actually ask her out so you can stop being so damn mopey.”

Grayson looks at his brother, processing his words slowly as Ethan continues to finish off the ice cream. He knows Ethan is right. But you’re not into that, and definitely not into him like that.

“She would never date me,” Grayson huffs as he leans further back into the couch.

“You won’t know until you ask.”

Grayson can feel the nerves bubbling in his stomach at the idea of asking you to be anything more than friends. Were you even friends? Just someone you fucked occasionally but wouldn’t even let him kiss you slowly?

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by his phone vibrating, and he’s surprised to see your name attached to a new text.

sorry about last time. are you free tonight?

He reads the text over and over, trying to take it all in.

He’s never heard you apologize to him. Literally never. Not that you’ve done anything terrible, but you guys just didn’t do that unless there was underlying sarcasm beneath the words.

And the fact you wanted to see him again? Try again? Maybe Ethan was right. Or, you were horny as shit. But he’d take what he could get.

“Is it her?”

Grayson snaps his head up at Ethan, his cheeks a bit more flushes than before due to the fact he was now thinking about what you wanted to do tonight.

He nods, looking back down at his phone. “Yeah, she wants to hang out tonight.”

“Kacey’s coming over for the night and we already call the pool, so I don’t know what-”

“I’ll go to hers.”

“Okay.” Ethan stands with the empty ice cream pint in his hand. “Don’t forget to ask her out, though. Even if it’s a double date with me and K, to make it more comfortable for you guys.”

Grayson chuckles to himself because, realistically, you guys going on a double date together would probably be a lot of fun. If you and Grayson didn’t fight.

“I’d rather just be a fuck to her than nothing.”

Ethan sighs, shaking his head. “Whatever, dude. That isn’t good for you, but I know you’re not gonna listen to me.” And with that, he’s walking to the kitchen.

Grayson closes his eyes for a moment, taking a few deep breaths because Ethan was right again, but you’re just so...addicting. As much as he thinks you’d be amazing together if you were both willing to put your bruised egos aside, he can’t get the taste of your lips, your skin, your pussy out of his mind. Or the way you looked totally fucked out for him the first time you let him touch you. Or how breathless you were in the pool. He felt like he needed that, and if it meant some hurt feelings on his end, he’d take any fix he could get.

yeah, i’ll come by after Kacey gets here

***

Grayson was rather proud of the way he so easily slipped past Ethan and Kacey, grateful for his brother’s willingness to be vague so that he could get out without any questions. Because if there’s one person besides Ethan who will lecture Grayson, it would be Kacey. And she would definitely not approve of what was about to happen.

The drive felt longer this time. He had his hype playlist going, the one he listened to when he ran, trying to get some adrenaline pumping because confidence usually followed. And he really needed confidence right now.

You were going through the same routine as last time. Preparing your space for him, and more importantly preparing your mind. Trying not to psych yourself out while also trying to guess if he’d want it all gentle like last time, or if he’d be even more pissed because of what happened.

When you hear a knock at your front door you jump a bit, the moment of anticipation finally here. You wipe your sweaty palms on your shorts, walking to the door and taking a breath before swinging it open.

You both look at each other for a moment, and you can tell something has changed since the last time you saw him. He looked a bit paler, more tired, his hair not styled like normal. His posture was relaxed, his back slouched and hands in his pockets as he looked straight at you. Because sure, those were all little tells as to how the past week has treated him, but when you finally meet his gaze it feels like his eyes tell the whole story. You weren’t sure why or how, but you just knew he’d been through it the past week.

That made you feel a bit relieved, that you weren’t the only confused one. That is, if his rough week was in any relation to you. Or it could have been something with Ethan, or the company, or YouTube, or another girl. Maybe you weren’t the only one texting him about fucking around, and you weren’t the only one-

“Am I gonna get let in or did you invite me here to stand outside?”

You bite your lip, coming back to reality quickly and stepping aside so he can walk past you. You can smell his stupid signiture scent, the one you’d fake sneeze at just to tease him whenever he put on too much. The thought makes you smile, because it would always make him so annoyed. His face would scrunch, he’d toss his hands up like you’d just insulted his mother, and he’d throw at least a ten minute shit fit. It always worked without a doubt.

“Dude, are you good?” You’re pulled out of your trance to see him walking backwards towards your bedroom, an eyebrow raised as you still stand holding the door open. “Thought I was gonna get an apology or something, not just the fucking draft from the hallway.” The cockiness in his voice feels familiar, and almost makes you warm inside. But your inner competitiveness takes over first.

“Oh, you expected more than a ‘I’m sorry’? What makes you think you deserve that?” You chuckle, closing the door and locking it before walking to him.

He shrugs a cocky smirk on his face. “I usually accept apologies in acts of service. Never said I accepted yours yet.”

You put your hands on his stomach, pushing him through the doorway and closer to your bed. “Something tells me you will,” you whisper, your mouth right next to his ear as you lean in. You have a tight grip on his shirt where your hands were resting, his knees at the back of the bed.

He swallows thickly at your response, his own hands coming to grip your hips and bring you flush against him.

“Yeah? Gonna prove you’re really sorry, Y/N?”

You’re not sure if it’s the hushed tone or the fact he said your name that makes you freeze, your need to be in charge leaving you as you move your head to look up at him. He’d only ever said your name when he was pissed at you, when he was being sarcastic. Hearing it fall from his lips now, made a shiver run down your spine.

Grayson can clearly see how much he just affected you, and he plops down onto your bed victoriously as he watches you try to get your shit together. His arms are behind him so he can recline back to continue to watch you, his legs spread a bit and his dick clearly outlined in his sweats. You’re 90% sure he’s not wearing anything underneath, and the thought makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

He expects you to climb into his lap, so when you’re falling to your knees between his legs, his confidence wavers for a moment. “Oh shit,” he mumbles under his breath, and you’re sure he didn’t intend for you to hear it.

You lick your lips, sliding your hands slowly up his thighs as you watch him try and collect himself. He can’t decide if watching your hands or your face is better, his gaze constantly switching back and forth.

You, however, hold your eyes steady on his cock that is twitching underneath the confines of his sweats. You’re not sure how long you’re gonna be able to tease him, your mouth literally watering at the thought of finally tasting him, making him feel good that way. Letting him blow his load down your throat.

Your hands reach the hem of his sweats, and you bring one of your thumbs to rub over his cock. You hear him suck a breath in, your eyes finally lifting to meet his. He’s got his bottom lip between his teeth, his face barely lit up from the few candles in your room. His nostrils are flaring with every breath he lets out, the anticipation clear in the way his eyes are now jumping around your own face as he waits for your next move.

You dig your fingers into the hem of his sweats, pulling them down as he lifts his hips to make it easier for you, Once they’re around his ankles, you let your eyes fall to his hard cock against his lower stomach. You take in every vein you can see, trailing all the way up to his red tip. You could tell it was borderline painful with the way his thighs clenched under your hands. When you noticed the precum beginning to drip from his tip you can’t resist anymore, leaning in to lick it all up.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

There it is again. Your name so gracefully falling from his lips. You feel a wave of nervous energy flow through you, but not before the words go straight to your pussy. You’ve suddenly made it your mission to make him say your name as many times as possible tonight.

You grab him at his base, swirling your tongue around his tip and making sure to pay extra attention to his slit, noting his little twitch every time your tongue runs over the most sensitive part of him. He brings one of his hands to the side of your head, gripping the ponytail you’d already had in your hair in preparation.

You look up at him as you continue to explore what makes him pull tight against your scalp, his cocky smirk back again as he takes in his new view.

“Loving the taste of my cock?”

You let go of him for a moment, and you feel him tug on your hair a bit harder in protest, but before he can say anything else you’re leaning down farther to drag your tongue from his base all the way back up, swirling your tongue around once like earlier before sitting back on your heels. You lick your lips slowly, never breaking eye contact.

“It’s alright.”

He rolls his eyes, putting a bit of pressure on the back of your head to try and bring you closer to him again.

You chuckle, leaning forward so that when you speak again he feels your hot breath on the sensitive skin. “Why? Love the way my mouth feels?”

“I wouldn’t know because you haven’t actually fucking put it-”

Before he can even finish his sentence your mouth is surrounding him, slowly sink down until he’s hitting the back of your throat. You stay there a moment, listening to his quicker breathing and watching his stomach clench as you hollow your cheeks and leisurely drag your head up, letting your tongue trace the vein that runs on the underside of his cock.

You lift your mouth from him, a small trail of saliva still connecting your lower lip to his tip.

“How about now?”

He looks down at you for a second, total silence ringing through your room. If you weren’t so turned on and confused about your feelings, you’d be more sure about the blatant admiration and attraction you see in his gaze right now.

He moves his hand from your head to your face, his thumb wiping your bottom lip to clean it before grabbing your cheeks and forcing you to continue looking at him. “You’re not good for me.”

Before you can even question what he means, he’s forcing you to stand up. He brings your face to his, and your hands fly around for a moment as you try to keep your balance with his quick and forceful motions before they finally land on his shoulders, his lips hot and heavy on yours. He didn’t seem to mind the fact he could taste himself on your tongue, too eager to feel your mouth on his.

The way he is able to get you to move at just the feeling of his hands on your body is almost embarrassing, but when his hands come to your hips to move you so that you’re now sitting next to where he was as he awkwardly shuffles to get between your legs you’re not even surprised with how smooth he made it all seem. It almost felt like you guys worked well together.

He doesn’t even bother to step out of his sweats, only throwing his shirt over his head when he feels your hands tugging on it. His hand pushes at your shoulder so that you’re laying back, legs still hanging over the edge of the bed. He makes quick work of your shorts and underwear, letting you kick them off as he brings a large hand to pull your tank top down just enough so that your tits are out. You’re sure you heard some of the seams rip, but at this point you couldn’t care less.

He reaches below your knees, pulling your legs up forcefully so that they’re bent, your heels now resting on the edge of the bed and your pussy spread wide for him.

“Condom, Gray.” You nudge him with your knee to pull him out of the slight daze he’d been in since he last spoke, and his eyes clear up after he blinks and comes back to reality for a moment.

“Oh - right. Where…” He trails off, looking around the room to see if you had any out and available for him.

You lean up on your elbow, pointing to your nightstand. “Back right of the drawer.”

He leans over, not moving from his spot between your legs. You watch him rummage through the drawer and think about how natural it feels to have him there, going through your shit.

He’s quick to pull out a condom, not even closing the drawer before tearing it open with his teeth and rolling it on himself.

You open your mouth to say something, but before you can he pushes your thighs back enough for your feet to rise off the bed, his hands sliding up the backs of your legs to slowly extend them upwards. By the time his touch reaches your midcalf, you can feel the ridges of his stomach on the back of your thighs, your calves resting on his pecs. One of his hands goes back down your legs to tightly grip your thigh, the other going to his cock to line his dick up with your entrance.

His eyes leave your center for a moment, going back to your face. “Good?”

You nod, biting your lip in anticipation. Right as you feel his tip against you, about to push in you remember what you were going to say before. “Wait!” He looks up in alarm, raising his eyebrow at you in question, slight concern on his face.

“Is my apology accepted?”

His face relaxes as he chuckles lightly, leaning down a bit to hover over your body. You feel his dick back at your entrance, and you finally feel the way he slowly begins to fill you. Your body relaxes at the immediate satisfaction, your walls taking every inch of his cock as he works his way to fill you up completely.

Only when you can feel his hips against you does he speak up again. “I guess so.”

You let yourself fall flat on your back, a smile on your face as he smirks at you. He grabs your other thigh with the hand that helped him, digging his fingers into the flesh there as if to brace you.

He pulls back out of you slowly, brushing your g-spot while doing so. You let out a soft hum at the feeling, anticipation for what he’s about to do crawling through your body and causing even more wetness to come out of you and around his cock.

He opens his mouth to say something when he pauses his hips, staying totally still for a second. You wait for him to speak, but nothing ever comes. As you’re about to ask him about it, he cuts you off with the quick movements of his hips as he starts to pick up a fast pace in and out of you.

He’s got his lip between his teeth in concentration, the veins in his neck and arms sticking out with the force he’s using to hold you against him while he pounds into you. You let your mouth fall open while you close your eyes, the feeling already so good you can’t speak. You grip the sheets tightly in your hands, doing what you can to stay close to him despite the force of his hips continuously pushing you away. You can feel your tits moving with his motions, and you’re sure if you were to open your eyes, that’s where his gaze would be locked. Even before you’d fucked that’s where you’d catch him looking if he thought you weren’t paying attention.

“Such a nice pussy, shit,” he moans.

A whimper comes from the back of your throat and you open your eyes when you feel his lips against your leg. At first his touch is soft there, light kisses despite the hard and fast movements of his hips. But soon he’s nipping at your skin, almost like he’s using you as a way to quiet himself.

That’s not what you want, though. You want him moaning, whimpering, saying your name. So you do the one thing you know will get to him.

You clench your walls tightly around him, and it instantly changes the game for both of you. As you continuously clench and release, you can feel him press tighter against your walls. The pressure on your g-spot causes pleasure to shoot from your core to your whole body, and you moan loudly as his hips stutter.

“Y/N - fuck - keep doing that,” he practically begs, leaning further over you and bending you in ways you didn’t even think possible. You’re sure you’ll feel it tomorrow, but you don’t even care. Especially not when your name sounds that good when he’s moaning it.

So you listen to him, and soon you can feel the sweat gather along your hairline as your orgasm slowly creeps through your body. It feels good having him on top of you, gripping you, so deep inside of you.

He’s panting above you, and you can see how far gone he is, too. So you decide to act before you think, forcing your fingers under his that are gripping your thighs, making him hold your hands. His eyes meet yours to make sure you knew what you were doing, but he never fought you. If anything, he started grinding his hips into your more, making sure to reach any spot that went untouched.

He lets go of one of your hands, causing you to pout for a moment. But your lips are quickly turning into an o as you feel his thumb rub your clit.

“Shit, Gray,” you whine, digging your nails into his palms.

He grunts, and you’re pretty sure his lip will be bleeding once he finally releases it.

Before you can get too concerned with it, however, you feel your orgasm quickly coming from the pleasure coursing through your veins.

“I’m gonna cum,” you warn him, and it comes out much breathier than you intended.

“I got you, let go baby,” he huffs out.

Baby. Suddenly you had a new favorite to hearing your name from his lips.

And that’s what pushes you over the edge, your back arching as you finally fall over the edge, pleasure taking over your entire body as you moan out over and over again how good you feel to him. You’re not even sure what you’re saying and if it makes sense but you don’t care. You feel too good to care.

You can feel him finishing in the condom once you feel a bit more connected to reality, his grip on your hand almost painful as he pushes his hips into you one final time before resting there and halting all his movements.

You try to regulate your breathing as he comes down from his own high, his eyes closed. You take the time to admire him, watching his bulging arms and defined chest continue to tense with the pleasure he’s trying to recover from.

Once he opens his eyes, he moves to stand up completely again. He lets go of your hand, and you can’t ignore the slight pang of sadness that shoots through you when you feel the coldness of the air against your palm.

He throws the condom out in the trash next to your bed before looking down at you. You stay in silence for a minute, both of you unsure what to do now.

“I should probably go, right?” He asks, and you’re not sure if it’s your post orgasm glow or the sadness you feel at the idea of him leaving that makes you think he’s almost asking just to make sure he can stay. But you’re sure that’s not what he means.

“Yeah, probably,” you mumble as he leans over to pull his pants up. Once he’s done that and begins to put his shirt back on, you sit up to watch him move around the room.

Only when he grabs his phone and keys does he look at you again.

“Nice fucking you,” he says, nodding his chin as a way of saying goodbye before leaving your room.

Exactly what you thought, just a nice fuck.

***

You were sure if you got hit by an 18 wheeler you’d probably feel and look better than you did right now.

Seeing your family was never easy, and on top of the exhaustion of avoiding Grayson like the plague? You were done.

It had been six weeks since you’d last seen him, heard his voice, said anything mean about him. Because you haven’t even had the opportunity.

After the last time you fucked, neither of you reached out. You continued to avoid seeing him, and him you, because what were you gonna say? Suddenly I don’t hate you, I definitely like you, I wanted you to stay, and I wanted to spend time with you? Absolutely not. Not when you were so sure he’d laugh in your face and make your life miserable every time you were forced to be in a room together.

So you went a full 6 weeks without Grayson Dolan.

The first two weeks were okay, because you’d done that many times. Two weeks without him was easy, manageable. But at the beginning of week 3 when you heard Ethan telling Kacey how Grayson refused to come around when he knew you’d be there? That’s when you felt yourself break.

You didn’t even try and hide it from Kacey this time, letting her hold you when you cried. Which was a lot, because apparently pushing your feelings to the pits of hell for this long made shit a lot harder when they finally resurfaced. The last three weeks were spent in self pity parties, ice cream, movies and wine. And tears. Lots of tears.

It was safe to say you were not doing too hot, and your family never helped. So you left your parents’ house early, and were looking forward to spending the night with Kacey chilling out and not having to worry about anyone else in your life. The long trip back to your cozy apartment didn’t help, either. It gave you too much time to overthink the things that constantly seemed to take over your mind, so by the time you were opening your door there were tears filling your eyes and you could feel your lower lip begin to quiver.

“Surprise Kace! My dad’s still a fucking piece of shit, so I came home a day early,” you meakly call through the apartment, taking your shoes off as you’re met with silence besides the TV.

“K? Can we get McDonalds? It’ll help me-”

Your bag falls out of your hand as four pairs of eyes meet your hunched over, weak figure when you turn around on the hunt for your roommate. Kacey was cuddled to Ethan on the couch, and Ryan and Grayson sat on the floor by the coffee table that had half empty chinese food containers spread across it.

“Oh.”

“Hun what happened? Are you okay?” Kacey stands as she talks to you, her eyes softening and you do everything you can to keep your gaze locked on her. You can feel Grayson’s eyes burning into your face, and it’s only making you want to cry more.

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” you lie, your voice cracking as you do your best to put a small smile on your face. They can all clearly see through it, but you’re grateful none of them push it.

“You want some chinese?” Kacey offers once she finally meets you, putting her hands on your arms almost to steady you even though you weren’t swaying.

You look over her shoulder and to the food on the table and for a second your eyes meet Grayson’s. They looked sad, sad for you. And that’s the last thing you wanted.

You look back at Kacey, shaking your head. “I’m good. Gonna shower anyways.”

You move away from her, grabbing your bag and walking down the hallway. You don’t even bother dropping anything in your room first, heading to the bathroom and shutting the door. It’s moments like this where you wish you and Kacey had gone a little nicer on your apartment, because your broken bathroom lock is staring at you right in the face as you pray everyone respects your privacy.

You turn on the shower to let it heat up, but the minute you see yourself in the mirror, the tears begin to fall. You just hoped the sound of the water drowned out your quiet sobs as you gripped the counter to try and keep yourself steady.

“Is she gonna be okay?” Ethan asks as Kacey comes to sit back down with a frown on her lips.

She nods, sighing. “Yeah, she just hates talking about that stuff with anyone. Hell, I barely know anything, just that she had it kind of rough growing up and she’s still pretty fucked up for it. She usually needs a few days to recuperate from a good visit to her family, so I’m surprised she was able to get through the living room without crying.”

The three guys take in the new information in silence, Ethan wrapping his arm around Kacey to keep her close to him.

Grayson stands, wiping his hands on his shorts. Ethan raises a brow at him in question, while Kacey and Ryan simply watch his movements.

“I have to pee.”

“We only have one bathroom, Gray,” Kacey reminds him.

“I know.”

He turns and walks to the hallway you disappeared down just a few minutes before.

“Grayson,” Kacey calls to him, making him turn to look at her.

She gives him a do you have any idea what you’re doing? look.

His lips tighten as he gives her a curt nod before turning back and walking up to the bathroom door. He knocks gently, putting his ear close to the wood to try and hear you behind it.

The sound makes you jump as you sniffle and quickly wipe your nose. “Kacey, listen. I know you’re worried, but I really just need a shower first.”

Your voice is thick, and it’s obvious to Grayson that you’d been crying. It breaks his heart a bit, as confusing as it is for him. Is that what you sounded like if he had made you cry?

“It’s me.”

The second you hear his voice your whole body tenses as you lift your head to look at yourself in the mirror again. Your eyes are red and puffy, your nose irritated and your lips swollen. You somehow looked ten times worse than when you first walked in the door, and you had little interest in letting Grayson in.

“Y/N.”

You sigh, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back down. “What?”

“I gotta pee.”

You scoff, and the familiar anger you hadn’t felt for almost 6 weeks weeks boils right back up in you. You hate to admit it, but it felt good to feel something normal, something other than sadness even if it’s just for a moment.

You swing the door open standing almost chest to chest with the man who has haunted you for way too long now.

“I’m going to take a fucking shower first. Then you can pee.” You sound way less angry than normal, much less of a bite to your words.

His face is soft as he takes in your appearance, his body blocking you into the bathroom without an escape.

“It’s an emergency.”

It’s clearly not, and by the tone of his voice you’re not even sure he has to pee at all. He’s casual, calm even, besides the worry on his face.

You groan and sniffle, rolling your eyes before turning and walking farther into the room. “Can you at least let me get in first?”

He steps into the tiny room with you, closing the door behind him. “Sure.”

“Without you in here.”

He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve already seen it all. Get in the shower so I can pee.”

“Turn around,” you whine, and he can tell your patience is running thin. You’re grateful he doesn’t push you farther, his body turning so his back is to you. You’re quick to strip yourself of your clothes, opening the curtain and stepping in.

“I can’t believe you couldn’t wait ten minutes to fucking pee,” you complain, grabbing your shampoo.

You hear Grayson move around outside the shower.

“If you’re gonna complain about me at least do it to my face so I’m not talking to a damn curtain like an idiot.”

You pull the curtain back so that your head can pop out to see he is sat on the now closed toilet seat.

“Fucking dick, didn’t even need to take a piss. Why do you have this incessant need to bother me all the time?” You throw the curtain back into place, beginning to wash your hair as you do your best to control your breathing. You can feel the tears that still threaten to spill start to well up in your eyes, but you’ll be damned if you’re caught crying by Grayson Dolan.

“You make it fun,” he chuckles out.

You bite your lip, pausing your movements to prevent any tears from falling. You’re unsuccessful, feeling a few fall down your cheeks before you can stop them, but the water washes them away quickly. You take some deep breaths, washing the shampoo from your hair to try and calm down a bit. You didn’t like how your anger at Grayson was making you sad now, too.

“Y/N?” He taps on the curtain, causing you to jump and gasp. Your hand comes to your chest to cover your heart that was already beating fast.

“What?” You snap.

“I went 6 weeks without talking to you, I’m not leaving until you fucking say something back.”

You huff, and honestly consider sitting on the floor because of your lack of energy. “What do you want me to fucking say, Grayson?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs, and you can hear him get up and pace. “That you hate me, that you think I’m annoying and rude and narcissistic and that I’m dense or whatever the fuck you feel like I am today! Just fucking call me something, say something.”

“Well, I don’t have the energy to fight your dumbass right now, so either pee or leave.”

Grayson smiles to himself at the name you still managed to throw in there, but it quickly falls when he hears a tiny sniffle from you.

You don’t hear anything from him for a minute, and you begin to assume that he had managed to sneak out without you knowing.

So you condition your hair, letting the tears roll down your face again as your ears begin to ring from how overwhelming everything has been the past day, weekend, months. You can barely keep your surroundings clear in your mind with everything racing through it.

Which is why when the curtain is suddenly being thrown back and a naked Grayson is stepping in the shower with you, you almost scream bloody murder before he covers your mouth and grabs your hip to keep you from stumbling backwards.

You relax at his touch, realizing you’re not going to get murdered (watching Criminal Minds was probably not the best idea when you’re so high stress at the moment). He removes his hand and you frown immediately.

“Why the hell are you in my shower with me?”

“Because you won’t talk!” At this point you can see how distressed he is, the wrinkles around his eyes more pronounced than normal and his bags darker than normal. It’s really the first time you’ve had to consider how much you guys not talking could have weighed on him. You assumed he would find a new girl and move on, while you made Kacey practically babysit you. It never crossed your mind that he would have felt even similarly to you.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

You can see how your words cut deep instantly, and you regret saying them. Especially because it’s not true, you’re finding yourself wanting nothing more than for him to stay right now and talk to you. To comfort you.

“So then tell me what happened six weeks ago that changed shit. Or tell me what happened with your dad. Or just fucking tell me something,” he pleads weakly.

You wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him flush against your wet body. You rest your head on his chest and close your eyes while one of his large hands caresses your back, the other coming up to stroke your hair.

You guys stand like that for a while, your sense of time totally thrown off. It could have been two minutes or two hours, you didn't know. But he stayed there holding you, keeping you close to him.

“I really wanna tell you about my dad, but I can’t right now,” you mumble out.

His muscles tense for a moment at the sound of your scratchy voice before he continues to rub your back.

“You don’t have to. Are you physically okay?” You nod, your cheek rubbing against his now wet chest. “Yeah. It’s just really hard to say out loud, and I need to process it before I tell someone.”

“That’s okay.” He leans down to leave a few gentle kisses along your hairline.

“But know that when I do tell you it’ll make more sense why I hated you. And why it’s hard for me to trust you. And why I avoided you for so long. It’s not an excuse, but know I don’t like being this way.”

He tightens his arms around you, resting his cheek on top of your head. “I don’t think I was very helpful to the cause, either.”

You chuckle, cuddling further into him. “I should probably finish showering.”

He lets go of you with that, holding you by your shoulders instead. “Want help?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “No, I know how to wash my own body. Plus, you don’t get to touch my tits yet.”

He pouts, letting his gaze fall to them. “Why not?”

“Because I’m still mad at you for lying about having to pee.” You put your hands on his chest, nudging him backwards a bit.

“Hey - hey, wait a second.” He grabs your wrists to stop your movements, pulling you back to him easily.

You both have stupid grins on your face, unable to contain the new feelings rushing through the both of you. Well, not new. But you were allowing yourself to finally feel them without covering them with anger.

He leans in closer to you, finally letting his lips touch yours for what feels like the first time. Yes, you’ve kissed before, and it was electric every time. But this? This was a whole new level.

His lips were soft and meaningful against yours, his movements well thought out as he did his best to portray everything he couldn’t verbally with the way his lips fit so perfectly with yours. You felt butterflies in your stomach from how slow and sensual he was being, and you felt like you could melt right into him because of it.

Once he was satisfied, he grabbed the back of your head to keep you steady while he pecked a few quick kisses against your lips, making you smile against him. He only pulled away when you were both giggling.

“I guess I’ll leave you to finish your shower, then.”

You bit your lip, nodding your head. “Yeah. But can you do two things for me?”

He smiles and nods eagerly.

You giggle, putting a hand on his hip to start guiding him out of the shower. “Can you kick everyone out? And then sit on the toilet to keep me company?”

He smirks, stepping out of the tub. “What if I actually have to pee now?”

“So then fucking pee but don’t flush. I’m more concerned with getting everyone out.”

“Not gonna be able to contain how loud you’ll be when you finally let me touch you?”

“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes. “You make it so hard to not wanna make fun of everything you say.”

“Hey, I’d rather you make fun of me every day than not talk to me at all,” he admits, his tone still joking but you can tell he’s serious.

You feel your cheeks blush as your chest swells, so you close the curtain to continue showering. “Get everyone out, you cocky, horny, dickhead.”

He laughs, grabbing a towel from the rack hanging next to him. “There she is,” he mumbles to himself, but you hear and feel your blush deepen further.

He walks to the door and opens it, walking the few feet it takes to reach where everyone was still anxiously waiting.

“Everything’s under control here. You guys gotta head out, though.”

Kacey looks at him in shock, taking in his almost naked, completely wet body as she pieces everything together with a look of confusion on her face.

“Do you have a fucking UTI or some shit?” Ethan laughs while his eyes are still on his phone before he also looks up at him, his phone falling out of his hands and into his lap. “Dude what the fuck?”

“I think we should go,” Ryan chimes in, standing up and clearing the containers from the coffee table.

“Grayson, what’s happening?” Kacey stands, concern still written all over her face. She walks up to him quickly, pointing a finger at him. “Did you take advantage of her? Grayson, she’s hurt! What the-”

Grayson easily grabs the hand that her pointed finger is attached to as he rolls his eyes. “No, Kacey. I talked to her. Comforted her, made her feel better.” Kacey raises her eyebrows at the last comment which makes Grayson groan. “Not like that. Made her heart feel better. I’ll tell her to text you when she’s feeling up to it for you to come home for her to explain, but please leave. She asked me to get you guys out.”

Her face softens at that as she looks over his shoulder at the open bathroom door.

“Y/N!” She calls loud enough for you to hear over the running water.

“Yeah?” Your voice is muffled but she can hear you’re less emotional than when you walked in the door. This makes her relax a bit.

“You want us out?”

“Yes please!”

That seems to satisfy her, as she backs away from Grayson slowly. “I can’t believe it,” she mumbles under her breath, shaking her head as she grabs her phone.

“Bro what is going on?” Ethan stands, looking at his brother for answers.

“Please,” Grayson practically begs. “Please leave and we can talk about it all later.”

“Yeah something tells me we don’t want to be around for when Y/N gets out of the shower,” Ryan adds as he gets his own stuff ready to go.

“Why are you so chill right now?” Ethan asks him.

Ryan shrugs, looking to Grayson for a moment.

“You got this?” Grayson asks.

Ryan nods, and Grayson turns quickly to make it back to the bathroom, back to you.

When the door shuts both Kacey and Ethan look directly at Ryan.

“Did you know about this? What the fuck is happening?” Ethan asks him as Ryan ushers them both to the front door.

“It’s not my place to tell you guys. But we definitely want to leave them alone.”

The two both continue to pester Ryan while they leave, and Grayson lets out a sigh of relief once he hears quiet outside from his place on the toilet.

“They’re gone,” he mumbles, rubbing his hands on the towel still wrapped around his waist.

“Hmm, suddenly I think I need a two hour shower.”

He groans, leaning back and hissing at the cold porcelain against his skin. “I’ll get back in with you.”

“You’re not invited,” you laugh, and Grayson laughs with you.

You’re quick to finish washing your body, itching to be out there with Grayson again. He sits there in a daze, replaying the sound of your laugh in his head on repeat and wondering how he went so long without it. And how much he regrets not being the source of it more often.

When you shut the water off, Grayson sits up giddily as he waits for you to finally get out. Somehow your time away from him now feels longer than the six weeks prior.

Your reach for your towel, lazily drying off because something told you there wouldn’t be many clothes in your near future. When you step out, towel held up to your front, Grayson is watching you with nothing but admiration on his face.

“What?”

He shakes his head, his smile so wide his cheeks hurt but he didn’t care. “Nothing. Just missed you.”

You giggle, going to straddle his thighs and sit on his lap, your towel barely covering you still. He grabs the back of your bare upper thighs to keep you steady as your free hand rests on his shoulder.

“You were literally sitting out here for, like, two minutes alone while I finished showering.”

He shakes his head chuckling, his gaze falling from your face to where you held the towel against your body as a rare feeling took over: shyness. It’s hard to make Grayson Dolan shy, to make him blush, but you’ve managed to do it.

“I meant the month and a half we didn’t see each other, but then too.” He shrugs as his thoughts run a mile a minute. “Fuck.” He laughs louder as he finally lets his eyes meet yours again.

“What now?”

“I’m feeling all...soft and shit. I don’t know. I’m not used to it.”

“Wow, I’m amazing. The girl to make the asshole who is Grayson Dolan soft for five minutes.”

“Yeah, let’s go with just five minutes,” he grunts as he stands, keeping his strong hold around you to keep you in his arms.

You laugh, pulling your chest against his as you wrap your arms around his neck to keep yourself steady in his grip.

“Oh, and for the record,” you say while playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck as he does his best to maneuver to your room while looking at you. “I missed you too.”

Tags: @spideysimpossiblegirl

read the next part here!

#Grayson dolan #Grayson Dolan blurb #Grayson Dolan concept #Grayson Dolan smut #Grayson Dolan fic #Grayson Dolan fanfic #Grayson Dolan imagine #dolan twins #dolan twins concept #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins fic #dolan twins smut #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins imagine #hyt

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inkandpen22 · 4 years ago

Text

Young Hearts Divided (1/?)

Pairing: Sirius x reader / James x Female!Reader (this comes later- the tea)

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.6k (she short~think of it as an introduction)

Part Summary: Y/N is a fellow Gryffindor Fifth Year with the Marauders. She has always been close with the boys, especially Sirius, but sometimes they can be bad influences...

A/N: as always, thank you for reading! If you guys have any suggestions or requests you’d like to see, let me know! I’m down for anything rn :)

Masterlist

Late! Late! Late! I’m late! I hurry down the steps of the tower into the Common Room. I suppose this is what I get for staying up late listening to muggle music with Marlene. How kind it would’ve been of her to wake me up too when she probably rose like a peaceful princess this morning. I at least would expect Lily to help a friend out! Nope, instead, I’m sprinting through the halls of Hogwarts with one shoe on, my hair disheveled, and my books hardly staying in my hands. I completely missed breakfast and now have to run straight to DADA across the bloody castle!

Professor Flitwick stops writing on the board and peers over his shoulder when I stumble into the room. My peers whip their heads back and stare at me like a fish in a bowl. Sirius and James are sitting right in front of me with childish grins across their faces. Sirius starts giggling and Remus leans across the aisle to swat him on the arm.

Professor Flitwick clasps his hands together with a deep exhale. “Miss Y/L/N, it’s on you to join us. Take your seat,” he instructs, gesturing to your empty seat next to Marlene toward the back of the room.

“Sorry Professor,” I mutter, swiftly sliding into my seat directly in front of Sirius.

As I pull out a roll of parchment and get settled, Marlene begins to bombard me with her questions. “Where have you been?!”

“Sleeping!” I snap in a whisper. “No thanks to you!”

“Dreaming about Bowie?” Marlene giggles, nudging me with her elbow. “Told you he’s stellar! We should listen to him again tonight!”

“And keep me up all night?” I snicker, looking ahead to scribble down Flitwick’s notes.

“You still haven’t heard this one group! My cousin sent me-”

Marlene is cut off as a crumpled piece of paper hits the back of my head. Knowing exactly who it’s from, I ignore the wrinkled ball on the floor by my ankle to catch up on my notes. Marlene picks up the paper, much to my annoyance. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her glance back at Sirius as she unravels the ball. I continue to listen to Flitwick, hoping he doesn’t write me up for being tardy.

“Want me to read it to you?” Marlene asks, all gushy with enthusiasm.

“Does what I say matter?” I sass in a grumble, knowing she’ll read it anyway.

“He wants you to meet him at the tree by the lake after class,” she informs as she scans the sheet.

“Can’t,” I answer plainly. “I have potions.”

Marlene sighs in disappointment, glancing back at Sirius with a frown. On my behalf, she writes down my answer and hands back the note. Turning back toward the front, she fiddles with her quill not even attempting to take notes. I, however, am writing like a lunatic struggling to make up for lost time.

“Oh come on Y/N,” Marlene whines quietly. Her silence lasted about ten seconds. She tugs on the sleeve of my shirt while glancing upfront every so often to make sure Flitwick isn’t looking. “You haven’t missed a day of class yet this term! Skipping one class won’t kill you!”

“You’re right,” I mumble, keeping my attention ahead. “But what if McGonagall sees us or literally anyone else? I can’t get written up again! I’ve been to detention twice now this year because of the Marauders. Friends don’t get friends in trouble.”

She huffs, dismissing my reason as not good enough. “You’re only young once Y/N! It could be fun!”

“Why don’t you meet him then?” You suggest sarcastically.

Suddenly, I feel another tap of a ball of parchment this time hitting my back. I take a deep breath to compose myself. If we anywhere else, even the library, I would probably smack the boy. Taking note of my frustration, Marlene cautiously reaches for the ball resting between the back of my chair and my back. She raffles the paper and skims the sheet.

“Do you want-”

“Ugh, just read it!” I bark under my breath, but loud enough for Lily and Alice to turn around in front of me. I mutter an apology and they face forward again. It takes every bit of me to ignore the stifling laughter of Sirius and James behind us.

Marlene clears her throat, making the duo quiet down. Then, she recites Sirius’s note. “We will not be seen. James gave me the cloak.”

I snicker, shaking my head at the words. “Ha, yeah okay! How does he plan on making Slughorn not mark me inexcusably absent?”

“He… um…” Marlene stutters. “Good point.” On that note, she scribbles down my answer and leans back to hand the paperback.

Sirius won’t have a valuable answer, thus will leave the matter alone. He will enjoy his free period doing who knows what with James while I go to potions. Shall I recall the two times I got put into detention because of Sirius Black? Okay, here it goes...

The first time was really for all of the Marauders. I suppose it’s my fault I’m friends with them. They were out late sneaking around with their stupid map to jot down a hidden tunnel Remus had discovered that day. I played watch and distracted Filch long enough for them to run into the Common Room. What that got me was detention from Filch. The boys felt remorseful and thankful that I didn’t throw them to the wolves, especially Remus and Peter. Sirius bought me chocolates and placed a rose on my bed every day for twelve days until I had a full bouquet.

The second time was after the Gryffindor v. Slytherin quidditch game a few weeks ago. There was a party in the Gryffindor Common Room after the win as per usual. Sirius was drunk and wanted to go for a swim in the lake. I had been rather intoxicated myself, but not enough to jump into a lake filled with all sorts of creatures! Alas, Sirius dragged me from Gryffindor tower and we snuck around the castle to get to the lake. Filch and some of the Prefects were on their rounds, so we had to hide around corners. Sirius would slowly turn the corners first, holding onto my hand to keep me close, just in case. Then, he would glance back at me with a mischievous smirk before booking it down the clear halls. Jump ahead half an hour and we get caught in the Black Lake in nothing other than our underwear by a very disappointed McGonagall, not one of my proudest moments.

I remember her words exactly. “Mr. Black, why must you pull Miss Y/L/N into your shenanigans? Two weeks’ detention, both of you! You’ll be cleaning classrooms until they’re spotless!”

The two longest weeks of my Hogwarts career. Well… at some points. Sirius had his moments when he made the hours slip by. There was the time we were cleaning Slughorn’s classroom and had a water fight. We got all of the textbooks wet that Slughorn left out on the desks. Sprout heard us from the hall and walked in on us dripping wet head to toe. Sirius was standing behind me, holding a now-empty bucket over my head. Her face was priceless!

“Y/N? Y/N!” Marlene pokes my side, snapping me out of my daydreaming. “I’ve been saying your name!” She huffs, holding a new note from Sirius. “What do you want to say?”

I frown, “what does it say?”

She rolls her eyes, “I just read it to you... I guess somebody wasn’t paying attention.”

I mumble an apology and look up at the chalkboard to see that Flitwick has jotted down at least ten more points. I check out for two minutes tops and he does all that?! Forget it, I’ll just copy Lily’s notes later. We all know she’ll have them perfect. James copies her every day during lunch anyway. I sit back in my seat with a sigh of defeat and contentment. I accept my defeat and call it a day. Looking over at Marlene, waiting for her to read me the note again. Impatient, I take the paper for myself and look over it.

Have Lily tell Slughorn you’re not feeling well. I have something I want to show you…”

Thinking it over for a moment, I consider the pros and cons. Cons: I could get caught and three strikes don’t look great on my transcripts. I want a career at the ministry, I can’t risk ruining that. Pros: it could be fun. Whenever I allow myself to have free time, Sirius and I have the best time. I mean, even in detention we had fun. He’s one of my best friends here. In fact, he was one of the first friends I made, after Marlene. Leaning forward in my chair, I pick up my quill and scribble down my answer. Marlene peaks over my shoulder, eager to see.

Okay.

Keeping a close eye on Flitwick to make sure he isn’t looking, I fold up the paper neatly in my lap. When the professor turns toward the board, I reach my arm behind me, handing the note back to Sirius. While I keep my attention, I feel Sirius’s warm hand glide over mine to take the folded parchment. It lingers there for a mere second, his fingertips grazing as far as my wrist unnecessarily. A faint, uncontrollable smile forms across my lips at the feeling of his touch. Marlene is right, we’re young, I should be living more. I think Sirius can help with that.

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lunarmessenger · 4 years ago

Text

RFA Dating Asexual MC - RFA, V, + Saeran

request sent in by @engel-katze . this is for you, angel!

DISCLAIMER: I myself am NOT asexual and I can’t convey the broad spectrum that is asexuality. If any of my followers are asexual and feel like this does not represent them at all please let me know and I will adjust it to the best of my ability. I would hate to misrepresent anybody, and I want to make sure you all are seen and heard as accurately as possible. I love you. - luna xx

warnings: some sexual themes, but nothing too crazy.

Zen:

• He’s taken by surprise for sure

• He doesn’t understand it at first; he thought that maybe you just weren’t ready to go all the way with him yet, and he respected that

• But one night the both of you were exchanging kisses here and there and his hands started to wander and you could see his expression getting darker with need

• So you shoved him off of you and onto the floor

• “MC I’m so sorry I should have known that you weren’t ready yet I—”

• He isn’t hurt at all by your pushing away he just wants to understand

• And so you explain to him that it’s not...personal per say

• You thought that he was very handsome and if you could, you would absolutely jump his bones every second

• Though he’d never tell his ego was nice and fluffed by that reassurance

• But the thought of the act of having sex (with anybody, not just him) made you physically sick and he never made you feel bad about it once; if anything he was happy that you were communicating

• The two of you discuss maybe alternatives or different ways to both have that sexual release with each other, without any sort of act of intercourse involved so that it wouldn’t negatively effect you.

Yoosung

• His self esteem took a rather hard hit for sure

• He thought that you didn’t even romantically like him and didn’t know how to tell him otherwise

• One night his hand was on your thigh and he started softly running his hand up and down

• You looked away from the television to look at him, noticing how his brows were furrowed from nerves as he looked at you.

• “Yoosung...?” Your voice was anxious and he could tell, but he thought that maybe if he just tried a little harder; made the first push.

• He kissed you once, and then gently placed you in his lap, and as you sat there you could feel his lower region beginning to harden

• “Oh, oh God no wait—” You hurriedly pushed yourself off, standing away from him across the coffee table as his face fell

• “Is...is it me? Am I not attractive enough? I know that I’m not rich like Jumin, or as toned and attractive as Zen, but...” His eyes started to fill with tears and you instantly felt your heart sank

• “No! Oh, God Yoosung no please...” You hurriedly ran to his lap and knelt in front of him, taking his hands in yours

• You tried your best to explain what it was and why you didn’t really want to have sex with him

• He was so relived that he cried

• He’s lowkey okay with it because while, he’s never experienced sex and he knows that he wants to have sex and experiences sexual attraction

• He’s too anxious about his performance in the bedroom to do anything anyway; he just tried initiating things because he thought that’s what you wanted

Jaehee

• Not even phased lmao

• You’d decided to tell her one night after work when the two of you were exhausted and you just blurted it out

• “I...I’m asexual, Jaehee. I don’t...I don’t feel sexual attraction.”

• “....okay.”

• That was literally it

• You were actually a little pissy that she reacted so calmly; since that’s not the reaction you usually get

• She honestly didn’t care if you wanted to have sex or not; if anything after you’d explained to her what it was she herself thought that that might be her sexuality too

• She has always been romantically attracted to women, but when it came to sex for either gender she just felt...like it was pointless. No need.

• “I think I was able to take it so easily MC is because, well, I think I am too.”

• You were okay with that. More than okay with that.

Jumin

• It was hard enough for Jumin to get a better understanding of his own emotions

• You didn’t want to overwhelm him with your sexuality, especially because of how rare it was

• One night the two of you were in bed, his hands wandering over your body as you two kissed

• You weren’t fully comfortable but you figured maybe, just maybe you could do it. For him.

• That didn’t work well at all

• “Are you sure, MC?”

• “Yes, Jumin. Go ahead.”

• “...Then why are you crying?” You hadn’t even realized until he said it, shaking your head softly as you sniffed

• “Don’t worry about it okay? Just..are you almost done?”

• “MC.” He was concerned and a little hurt, immediately pulling away as he turned on the bedroom lights

• You covered your naked body and immediately began to sob, Jumin holding you close as your body shook from how hard you were crying

• “I’m so sorry, please don’t be angry with me. I...I’m asexual, Jumin. I can’t do it I can’t—”

• “Shh, MC it’s alright. It’s okay. I just wish you’d told me sooner, darling...”

• After that night Jumin tried his best to make sure he didn’t cross any boundaries

• If he wasn’t working on paperwork from his job he was reading a book on asexuality and researching it, just to make sure he knew the ins and outs of a rather important part of you

707

• He thinks you’re joking at first when you tell him the poor idiot

• He knows that asexuality is rare and so he figured it was just another sort of prank or joke that you were trying to pull

• To be fair you were rather nonchalant about it because you figured it was important he know and that he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it like others have in the past

• So he freaks out when out of nowhere he shoves his hands down your pants with a cheeky giggle while you guys are play fighting and you immediately scream and bite his shoulder

• And I mean bite it like you drew blood from how hard you bit this man

• “Ah! MC, what the hell?!”

• “I should be asking you that! What is your problem? Don’t stick your hand down my pants you asshole!”

• You immediately ran out of the living room and slammed the bedroom door behind you, feeling embarrassed and a little violated by your own boyfriend

• While he hurriedly tends to his shoulder to stop the bleeding his mind immediately drifts back to the conversation you’d had with him towards the beginning of the relationship

• He literally wants to kms he’s so mad at himself

• He figured you two hadn’t had sex yet because you were just trying to take it slow; after all it’d only been a few months

• Now he understands

• He gave you time to calm down and after about an hour he reaches out to you

• He fiercely apologizes and promises that he will educate himself better and take you more seriously

• Like Jumin he’s not really familiar with the term itself

• So when you bring it up to him he’s a little embarrassed to ask so many questions to clarify what that meant for the two of you

• “Essentially, you don’t feel sexual attraction? Like when you look at me, or anybody else who you want to have sex you just don’t feel the need to?”

• “In a way, yeah. Every person who is asexual is different, but that’s how I feel about it. I personally can have sex with you I just... I won’t really want it and I don’t need it.”

• Still a bit confused but he respects your boundaries, always

• “Okay, MC. Thank you for letting me know.”

• He’s never been in a relationship like this before, and his last one was a complete train wreck

• But he’s trying

• You both establish boundaries with one another when it comes to intimacy; what he’s comfortable with and what you’re comfortable with

• It was a bit rough and took a lot of adjusting but with patience and progress the two of you ended up with a healthy and happy relationship

Saeran

• “You’re what?”

• He really isn’t trying to be an asshole, he just genuinely is surprised and confused

• He’s still dealing with his emotional and physical trauma that he went through from his childhood and Mint Eye

• The idea of having sex and being intimate with you was the last thing on his mind and you were okay with that

• At first he thought that your sexuality had something to do with your upbringing and trauma and he thought you two would be able to relate

• While you didn’t have the easiest childhood, that wasn’t why you were asexual. That’s just...the way you were. You always have been asexual you were just born that way.

• “So it’s like when you’re gay? Or bisexual?”

• “Yes precisely.”

• He understands a lot more now and he tries his best to educate himself and keep himself in line

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frogtanii · 4 years ago

Note

It be wind anon! Finally getting time to react to last chapter. But I wanna talk about the asks and stuff right now so I’ll move it up!

Firstly, Akaashi :0!!! You think Akaashi and I would be a good pair? We would be balls of anxious energy. Though I suppose we are similar enough that it would make sense.

And Sakusa being head over heels!!! Wind anon be flustered as heck. He’s so cool though ///

And snowsmuse! I see their Dreamcatcher recs and I am invested. I like Dreamcatcher too haha~ In terms of music... I think Anson Seabra’s ‘Robin Hood’ would be good for any of the boys. Though Anson has many songs with the ‘break-up’ idea behind it, so chances are there are more that could apply.

Anyway, I think I should actually get on to the reaction to the chapter.

I look at the chapter, and the first thing I see is Meiko being terrible. Not to say I expected different but...she really be blatant in her animosity. I look at her “thank you keiji for helping me out” and I’m like,,, “you literally forced him to do all your work. That’s being entitled?” But yes.

Akaashi giving everyone credit :0! Ah, we’re really similar in that regard. If someone in a group does/says something awesome I give them all the credit because they deserve it. Likewise...if they don’t do the work... I try to pick up a bit of the slack...and then see if they flounder later. But Akaashi being polite and thinking of others...very like him.

Meiko :/ I mean, at least she only mentioned YN and Atsumu as people who could’ve messed with her stuff because while that is insulting to both YN and Atsumu, I don’t think I could bare the stupidity if she mentioned any of the other dudes. Also Meiko... “how could you ever have said you loved me when you’ve betrayed my trust like this????” I... I don’t know how to convey the look of sheer exhaustion I got from that. What should I even say in regards to this..? I mean...we know that Meiko is a dirty liar who lies so...her stating about “trust”... and I don’t even know what to say in regards with the “love” aspect because she obviously hasn’t been reciprocating it? Yeah, I’m just...baffled at her words.

Akaashi clearly stating a defense by quoting her words and using that to explain his actions. And Bokuto immediately coming to aid in the defense. I mean, his words are definitely defending YN and Atsumu, but he was the one to immediately say that after Akaashi. The dynamic and friendship is making me very happy.

Anyway... I don’t even want to think about the others...Meiko and all her stuff...

I wanna move directly to Akaashi. His apology!! Aaaa I haven’t seen such a sincere apology in perhaps my entire life. I mean, it was over text so it wasn’t like he was bowing his head to YN, but at the same time, I feel like Akaashi is the type to mull over his words so he probably spent time composing the apology before he went and asked if he could converse with YN. Anyway, I’m just soft. I would read poetry to Akaashi with affection.

Atsumu!! Ah, he’s so awesome. We appreciate the person who’s been with YN from the very beginning. How unfortunate that his twin was too blind to not see through the BS... but I guess that’s how it goes. And I completely get the messy rooms www. My room is indeed very messy.

The image though :0! Wind anon be soft. Though...the laptop is very close to the edge so my heart went b-dum really loudly! And Kuroo...doesn’t the caption mean that he decided to go into Atsumu’s room for some reason? Which would be an invasion of privacy.

Oh well, that’s all my reactions for the chapter! Much love to you fr0ggy! I hope you eat good food and get good sleep. Do stay hydrated~ we all care for you very very much!

AHH wind nonnie!!! this chapters analyzing is so good as per usual — just wanted to answer this before i post the next one hehe <3 ily v much muah muah <3<3

#j’s asks #anons babey #℗ poker face #wind anon

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riceccakes · 4 years ago

Text

Earth, Wind, and Coffee: Chapter Four Analysis

and now the last chapter of the fic! i really had so much fun writing these analyses so i hope you’ve enjoyed too :))

i’ve got a lot to say about this last chapter too so be prepared for a long one. lets get to it, shall we?

some fun stuff before we start!

before changing the direction of the story, the last chapter of the fic was going to be Chapter 3: The Meeting, A Well Deserved Jab, and a Good Night’s Rest

so, The Meeting was going to happen, korrasami was gonna come back together and instead of the krew outing during this chapter’s A Well Deserved Jab, korrasami was gonna go out on a date. korra still would punch iroh, korra never ‘moved in’ with asami, it was just gonna be a fluffy section. A Good Night’s Rest was actually going to feature hiroshi going to asami’s apartment while korra was over and being like “who the fuck is this” and korra was gonna be upset asami didn’t tell her dad about them (as, in the og timeline, they would be dating at this point) they’d have a convo working this out, a little like how korra said she’d never understand how asami and hiroshi don’t have a great relationship in A Much Needed Conversation. korra would then go to hiroshi’s office and make that whole speech and still ask asami to go the south. this is a v summed up version, one that when i made it, i was happy with. having published what i did, i much enjoy that ending more than this one :)

i wanted a way to show that korra likes asami (obviously, this is a korrasami fic) but of course, asami spent most of this only wishing korra liked her

mako asking out korra was a late edition, one i actually really like. mako’s role in the fic is pretty minor, sorry to those of you who really love him and maybe wanted more from him. however, i am a really big fan of the fact that in lok, even after all the stupid love triangle shit, mako was able to be good friends with korrasami, so i still wanted to capture that. he’s not at all upset when korra turns him down, but rather super happy for the fact that korrasami feel the same way about each other. an even later edition to this point is the bedroom scene when korra asks asami to wait for her, i’ll mention more about this scene later cause i really love it.

and we in gooooo: (i usually try to write these following the sections of the chapter but for this analysis, im gonna go topic by topic within each section)

literary devices (diction, figurative language, etc.):

There have been better days than this one. Days where Korra blows up Asami’s phone with funny Instagram posts she finds while Asami’s at school, days where she invites Mako and Bolin over and the four of them play board games, days where Korra asks if they can go out for a walk and she excitedly explores the area around Asami’s apartment. There have been worse days than this one. Days where Korra won’t get out of bed, days where Korra won’t speak, days where Korra won’t even look at Asami and she has to see that glossed over gaze gawk out the glass window.

back again, just quoting my favorite sections. and this one, yall, this one. the mirrored writing style, the ending with alliteration, how easily it describes a passage of time i mean come on. when i wrote this i was like “yyyyaaaasssss” and i won’t deny it. the “glossed over gaze gawk out the glass window” is obvious in alliteration, one that just sounds so good, it rolls off the tongue. but, there’s actually also another one, one that’s a bit more hidden “she excitedly explores the area around Asami’s apartment” note how these both end the descriptions of korra’s bad/good days respectively, as a sort of way to frame which parts of the sentence correspond with the good days and bad days. now, going onto korra’s days, three examples of good days, three examples of bad days (that’s technically six different days right there, and it doesn’t even have to be in succession.) what i also love about this info into korra’s days is how it shows a passage of time without having to be like “it’s been a few weeks” or “after some time/a while” it doesn’t stick out, at least not to me, it’s not a jarring way to say, “hey, in the story now, time has passed since last chapter!” idk, i just am really proud of this paragraph and i wanted to point it out in its own section :)

Asami will never, ever say she’s happy that the Red Lotus attack happened, but, it’s what brought Korra to her. It’s what brought more friends to her, it’s what brought her to see her father isn’t as great and almighty as she’d grown up to believe. How could she ever thank something so horrible for bringing about all these life changing things in her life?

this sort of, existential section, was something i came up with on the toilet. (tmi? im not gonna apologize tho, this is a behind the scenes explanation of my writing and some of my best writing happens on the toilet ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) any who, i didn’t want to leave any loose ends and, up until this chapter, i don’t really think i showed how asami felt about the attack and the situation and what’s happened after. also, asami being the perfectionist and analyst she is, i know she’d reflect on everything that’s happened to her in the span of about six months (give or take) and even more so, reflect on what’s happened with korra in the time they’ve known each other. it was a bit painful to write this section, it’s that sort of mentality that’s like “some horrible, horrible shit happened, but really, really good things came out of it. so, should i still hate all that horrible stuff or should i just appreciate the good things that came out of it?” (i’ve been debating this for years now with something personal and to this day, i’m not sure. i’m not sure if i’m more thankful for it all happening because of the few good moments it brought or if i wish none of it happened for the chance at some alternate reality of good things happening. anyways, i digress)

Kuvira stays silent for a moment, “When Hiroshi reaches out to you, tell him everything you said to me. Tell him everything you said when we were in your apartment after the presentation. He needs to know how you feel, he needs to know how he’s made you feel for years. Hiroshi can’t change if he doesn’t know what’s wrong and you want him to change, don’t you?”

Asami grips the steering wheel, staring at the red light in front of her. Her foot slowly pulses on and off the break, inching forward, waiting for the signal.

“I do.”

She feels the pit of her stomach churn, wondering if she could ever say all of it to her father. Kuvira isn’t wrong, she wants her father to change, but not in every way. Not in the business sense, not in the ambition sense, but rather, she wants a father, she wants to feel like the man she calls Dad really deserves the title. It pains her to say he hasn’t. The light turns green and Asami’s foot hovers over the gas pedal.

“So then you’ll tell him?”

For just a moment, her Satomobile doesn’t move but with a sharp, deep breath, Asami steps on the pedal. “I will.”

back again with our car metaphor/symbol thing! i really do love this idea of using the Satomobile as a way to show the relationship between hiroshi and asami, and how asami handles that relationship. this is from A Much Needed Conversation, some time after asami’s returned to future industries, calling kuvira in reluctant hope of knowing what her father is doing. they talk about asami telling hiroshi all this important stuff, stuff that asami’s been hesitant to bring up at all. (only after a breaking point did she finally let it out) this section has a mix of it all, diction, metaphor, along with some suspense by using line breaks.

Her foot slowly pulses on and off the break, inching forward, waiting for the signal. / “I do.” - here’s a good example of suspense. (it continues through the rest of the excerpt) so, here was have asami, absolutely scared shitless, as she always is with her father and this subject of her life in relation to him. except, now with their time apart and what happened with the meeting, asami’s kind of got this “fuck it, whatever” mentality that goes a few different ways. “fuck it, whatever” my dad totally turned on me and was an asshole, i don’t care. “fuck it, whatever” we cut off ties, i can do whatever i want. “fuck it, whatever” i might very well do whatever it takes to get my dad back because i miss him but im also super scared as per usual. “fuck it, whatever” im not the one who needs to do anything to get him back so i won’t even think about it. there’s just a lot for asami to unpack here and in the setting of her father’s legacy, it’s even more for her.

She feels the pit of her stomach churn...The light turns green and Asami’s foot hovers over the gas pedal. - more suspense. the light is green, green means go, but asami is waiting, thinking, hesitating. this also relates to the line earlier “waiting for the signal” well, this is the signal, the green light means go. but also, kuvira telling asami to tell hiroshi everything is also the signal to go, it’s like the push for asami to do it. she sees the signal, it’s go time, and yet “Asami’s foot hovers over the gas pedal” asami is still nervous, still scared to have this conversation with her father because she just doesn’t know what’s going to happen.

“So then you’ll tell him?” / For just a moment, her Satomobile doesn’t move but with a sharp, deep breath, Asami steps on the pedal. “I will.” - this mirrors just a few lines earlier. when kuvira asks asami to tell hiroshi everything while she’s waiting for the green light, her dialogue has a line break. for dramatic effect purposes, but also to show a sense of firmness. it’s by itself, it doesn’t need to be supported; asami really, truly means this. however here, her dialogue tag is connected to the narration its related to. even while asami confirms she’ll do this, that she’ll talk to her father, it’s hesitant, it takes a moment for her to say yes.

what i really love is how much can be covered in such few lines. i’m not sure you all saw this when reading, ive always been very into reading/writing analysis, so i’m always looking at everything with a fine tooth comb; in my own writing, it’s no different. if you didn’t see this before, i hope learning it now gives you a different perspective if you ever choose to read my fic again :)

content (typing up loose ends, leaving breadcrumbs, additional info):

lets talk about korra

a lot happens for our girl in this last chapter. i’ll try to be concise, i tend to kind of ramble. i think what’s kind of cool, and i didn’t realize this beforehand, is that theres a speech from korra in each section. in A Well Deserved Jab, we see korra’s first time speaking at the support group meeting and what i really like about this is there’s no real big event that’s happened for her to finally be able to go up there. i feel like there’s always this one, life altering moment in stories when people need to deal with trauma or just work up the courage to do something, but in our case, it’s not like that. it’s the time and the care that’s slowly been working and helping korra for her to feel ready. it’s been a culminating process for her to get to go up there and for whatever reason, korra felt ready. let’s go a little into this speech

we finally learn more about the attack. we learn why korra’s always been picking at her wrists, the memory of the zip ties are still strong and she scratches at hopes of making the feeling go away. we also hear more about korra losing control that night, which in turn made her want to control everything with her life after the event. (lil fun-ish note while we talk about some deep stuff right now, last chapter’s first paragraph, about korra enjoying pour over coffees, was a purposeful choice. when doing pour overs, you have direct and absolute control over the coffee and how you make it, which gives korra a greater sense of comfort, because she knows she’s in charge when doing this.) my favorite part about this whole speech is right before the tail end of it, where korra says “sometimes surprises are better than plans” it was never in her plan to meet someone and find comfort and support and love and grow with it. (my headcanon is that korra just wanted to mull this over alone, sort of like in book four after the canon red lotus attack.) instead, korra met asami and the two clicked and korra could see a light at the end of her tunnel she thought would be pitch black forever. i really enjoyed getting to write this for korra.

korra’s second speech takes place in A Much Needed Conversation. another scene from the fic i wrote beforehand, i think somewhere between finishing chapter two and mulling over the decision to make the fic longer. this was sort of my cathartic, “lets yell at hiroshi for being sucky” moment. a lot of points are brought up here, all of which i believe are valid. it poses the simple, yet ever complicated question of “why?” i’ll get into hiroshi’s response in a later section, but what i’ll highlight about this speech is korra’s statement, “Now, I know that I don’t need to be saying any of this, because Asami can more than hold her own in any conversation, but I am doing this because you are hurting the woman I love, and I will not just let that happen.” its a declaration of love, love that i know is deeper than just romance but also deeper than just friendship. it’s admiration for asami being so strong, admiration for asami being so powerful and smart, korra says more about it in the speech. i tried it make so that korra wasn’t trying to control this situation with asami’s father, but rather, this was korra’s attempt at getting them to try and work something out. korra wants what’s best for asami, she wants her to get everything she wants. korra knows asami wants a better father and the most korra feels she can do is slap hiroshi (with her words) across the face and get him to realize that’s what asami wants.

korra’s third and final speech opens A Good Night’s Rest. we get just a little more about that night, i actually wrote this speech out loud. i just sort of put myself in korra’s place and started talking. my intent with this opening was to give more insight into how korra feels about asami. this is also a call back to the beginning of the chapter, about waking up asami if korra ever needs her. i took this action as a solidifying definition for asami to know “yeah, korra really does love me.” sure, in the last section, korra sort of did say it, but actions still speak louder than words. a lot of this final chapter was just showing how much korra has grown, i think i achieved that.

before we move on, i just wanted to say a lil bit about the bedroom scene where korra asks asami to wait for her. it’s a small confession that i think just says so much. another time here to show that romantic korrasami will happen, but it’s also just insight into korra and her thoughts about romancing asami. she wants it too, so badly that she almost gets into it before she’s ready. did i psych you guys out like asami, who thought she was finally going to kiss korra? it’s all in the lines, “I’m almost there...I know I am, Asami. I’ll be there soon, I need to be better. I need to be better for you.” and now, after thinking about it, i almost wasn’t gonna word it like this. what korra’s saying here is that her progression is only being done so that she can be good for asami, which, i didn’t want to convey. however, sometimes, that’s just how people think; they think, “if i have to do something, i gotta do it for someone else.” and so that’s what i’ve done with korra here, it’s just this mentality that she’s growing out of. it’s okay to have this thought process, good even, but not for every single thing you do. and i wanted korra to know that, which is why i love asami’s response, “I think you’re already great.” it’s just to remind korra, yes you can get better, you will get better. but not for asami, but for yourself, because asami already loves you the way you are.

kuvopal

breadcrumbs; that’s all i’ve really done so far with kuvopal is put lil breadcrumbs everywhere for the people who like the idea of the relationship to grasp at. is that mean of me? maybe, but i really love kuvira and opal as a couple so i wanted to keep hinting and hinting and hopefully getting you readers interested too. kuvopal has been sprinkled in since chapter two and i wanted to leave the readers with just a little ounce of hope

asami’s official introduction with opal heavily involves bolin, enough to the point where the two kiss each other on the cheek. now, of course, after reading the chapter, you know bolin and opal aren’t dating, but i wanted to stress you out a lil bit xD asami is weary of mentioning kuvira, so there’s not much we really get to see about how opal feels. opal may have wanted to talk when asami mentioned kuvira just before korra asked about spring break, but she didn’t. why didn’t she say anything? do you think she’s wanted to talk about kuvira? what about her major, child services and the foster care system, do you think kuvira influenced that, being she essentially was fostered by the beifongs? do you think we’ll ever find answers? *wink*

iroh

so obviously, we don’t like iroh. if there’s anyone in this story who doesn’t get a happy ending or a second chance, it’s him because he’s the worst. i realized we hadn’t seen too much of iroh in the previous chapters and this being the last one, i needed to really show just how not cool iroh is. the soccer game is very clearly an indication of just how conceded and rude he is. after the game, his conversation with asami is bad. he’s being invasive and inconsiderate of asami and he doesn’t care. same with at the restaurant. so, of course i wanted iroh to get his comeuppance and we have that by korra punching him.

going off of this, i didn’t want it to feel like iroh got a one and done kind of deal. he was incredibly awful to asami and his “friends” and i didn’t want this behavior to be taken lightly. so, i chose to make iroh just basically lose everything :) he loses his friends, possibly his job, i just KNOW izumi is disappointed as fuck that he’s acted like this and uncle iroh is rolling over in his grave that someone of his own blood would be like this. i wanted to address iroh in his own category because i just wanted you all to know that he is the only character not getting off easy. i really hope that how iroh’s situation turned out is good, as in, he got what he deserves.

hiroshi

hiroshi was an interesting character to go about in the final chapter. obviously, throughout the fic so far, hiroshi hasn’t been a standout father or boss. if i haven’t said it before, i’ll say it now: i always wanted hiroshi to have a second chance, ie, i wanted hiroshi to try to be better. for one, asami deserves it. she deserves a good parent who’s there for her and isn’t just obsessed with his job and the glory and empire he’s built up for himself. another reason, i believe everyone (within reason, *cough cough* not iroh *cough*) deserves a second chance. at the very least one more try, to be better, and if they’re actively trying, they’re doing better.

so hiroshi gets a bit of a wake up call from not only korra, after she so passionately scolded him in the name of her love for asami, but hiroshi also got one from asami directly. take your pick as to which conversation sparked hiroshi to call her to say goodnight. it’s an effort, and asami even says it herself, that after a while, the juice of it ran out. but kuvira said it too, it’s a start. what im trying to highlight is that no one is perfect and their ways of trying to change themself isn’t going to be perfect either.

and the kicker is hiroshi going to the south, without any other reason than to see asami. hiroshi only ever travels for future industries related business, but here he goes, without kuvira, to the south to see asami. i want to keep highlighting, asami says this is just the start. she hasn’t yet fully forgiven him, but she’s giving him the chance to be forgiven. that’s what i want to make most apparent on the topic of hiroshi and asami’s relationship: hiroshi is not getting off easy. but he’s trying, and in the words of the good place, that is what matters isn’t if people are good or bad, what matters is if they’re trying to be better today than they were yesterday. hiroshi, in this action, coming to the south, is trying to be a better father that day than all the days before. offering up the job offer from tonraq is hiroshi trying to be a better boss that day than the day before. staying in the south to spend real, quality time with his daughter is hiroshi trying to be better that day than every day before that.

it’s all in the trying.

honorable mentions:

in the og timeline, back when korrasami was going to be a confirmed couple in the fic, after returning from the south, asami was going to go to the cafe at one in the morning while korra was working and korra was going to make her an avatar. i liked the full circle aspect at the time but really, i much prefer what i’ve posted over that og timeline.

anything i would’ve wanted to change?

i think, overall, i maybe would’ve wanted to divide chapters up differently. as i continued writing, the three sections definitely could’ve supported themselves as singular chapters. especially this final chapter, which was almost 20k words. but, in the end, i am so proud of this fic and of myself for following through and finishing it.

i lost a bit of steam towards the end of this analysis, i’ve actually had this in my drafts for almost two months. but, i think what i wanted to say, i did, and as always, if you have any comments or questions, or just wanna talk to me, do it ! i love any and all commentary on my writing :))

thanks for reading the analysis if you did x

#ricewrites #earth wind and coffee #coffee shop au #korrasami #korra #asami sato #lok #writing analysis #chapter analysis

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princessjungeun · 4 years ago

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My Only One:Jeongyeon x Reader

Request: can I get uhhh jeongyeon scenario with extra angst oop 🙊 sooo jeong and her gf have been kinda distant since she’s been away for a comeback, gf gets rly jealous when she sees 2yeon being...well, 2yeon on vlive, so she starts pulling away and ignoring jeong’s calls and texts. BUT! jeong comes home and surprises her with a ton of cliche romance stuff - flowers, a mix tape, the works - reassures gf of her love then boom happy ending! love your work btw, thanks for taking the time to write for us💙

Jeongyeon had been busy with work for three months now. More and More promotions were about three weeks from ending, three weeks too long for you.

During times like this you aren’t able to see Jeongyeon everyday. Hell you are barely able to even have a phone conversation for more than ten minutes. Despite this you two always make it work, even though it’s a little hard.

But this time was a little different.

Jeongyeon hadn’t been able to call you much at all, you’ve only talked to her once this month. You did your best to keep up with her through fan updates and other accounts. Often, you found yourself watching Twice’s stages and other interviews quite frequently.

It was 1 AM when you got a V-Live notification reading 2연.

Clicking on the notification, it took you to the app, opening Jeongyeon and Nayeon’s livestream. You smiled at the sight of your girlfriend, progressively getting happier as you watched.

However slowly that happiness faded as you watched the two share skin ship. Nayeon was very affectionate especially towards Jeongyeon. But after you and Jeongyeon started dating she did it less frequently.

You couldn’t seem to tear your eyes from the screen, feeling jealousy bubble up from inside as the two hugged closely, giggling softly to each other. Feeling your heart sting when Nayeon rested her head on Jeongyeon’s shoulder, very obviously holding her hand. Nayeon almost inaudibly said “you’re so pretty...” Jeongyeon laughed at the sudden compliment, a blush forming in her cheeks.

Not wanting to watch any longer you closed the app, tossing your phone off the bed with a huff. What you didn’t know was Jeongyeon’s response to her member. Your girlfriend pushed Nayeon off her gently, reminding her that she had a girlfriend.

Your mind lingered on the interaction despite you trying to not think about it. Replaying the scene over and over in your head, getting more upset by the minute.

The sound of your phone buzzing against your bedside table filled your room. You picked it up and saw Jeongyeon was trying to call you. Thinking for a minute you decided not to answer it. Telling yourself It’s fine she has Nayeon.

•

For the next few weeks you ignored almost all of Jeongyeon’s calls. You kept text message conversations short, only using a few words per sentence.

She immediately noticed the way you became distant but she couldn’t figure out why because you wouldn’t talk to her. Jeongyeon became more and more desperate to see you so she could just sort out the issue.

When she came home it was the middle of the afternoon. You were in your room tidying up your bed and drawers when you heard her shout “baby i’m home!”

Letting out a soft “in here” you continued to put your clothes away. Your eyes landed on Jeongyeon, not for long though as you ignored her.

A frown formed on her face and she pulled your arm so you’d look at her again. Her thumb grazing over the top of your hand he asked “Babe why are you ignoring me?” Snatching your hand away you responded “Jeongyeon-ah, go back to Nayeon...”

With that she dropped your hand and left the apartment, closing the front door behind her. You now wished she actually tried to talk to you, something she usually does when you’re ignoring her. Instead she just got up, probably going to her best friend to get what you weren’t giving her. Your stomach turned at the thought of the two girls together.

•

Hours passed and Jeongyeon still didn’t return, you moped around your apartment waiting for her. Going back into your room you decided to just watch TV to pass time.

Eventually you heard the front door fly open, too embarrassed to even show your face you simply stayed in bed. You heard Jeongyeon clearly doing something in the kitchen and main room but you just let her be.

After a while she finally opened the door and slowly walked in. Looking at her you looked down at your lap, feeling slightly ashamed that you treated her the way you did.

Reaching a hand out she told you “follow me.” Looking at her for a moment you wondered why she wasn’t mad at you. Grabbing your hand she pulled you lightly, helping you stand up.

When you got to the kitchen and main room you saw balloons, flowers, your favorite foods, skincare products and more.

Looking at your girlfriend in confusion you asked “wha- I was mean why are you doing this?”

Wrapping her arms around your waist she kissed you gently, “I’m sorry...I was the one who messed up first. I shouldn’t make you doubt my feelings for you. You didn’t deserve that.”

You leaned forward resting your head against her, “I need to apologize too, I was being immature. You didn’t deserve that either.”

Kissing you on the forehead she asked “are we good now?” You nodded with a smile as she pulled you to the kitchen where all you favorite foods were waiting for you.

The rest of your night was spent eating your favorite foods and dancing around the kitchen.

Now the two of you were laying in bed watching your favorite movie. Legs tangled under the blankets, you were pulled close against Jeongyeon.

Your girlfriend kissed you gently before saying “I love you so much. Never think that I love anyone the way I love you. You’re the only one for me, my only one.”

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #twice fluff #twice scenarios #twice nayeon #twice jeongyeon #twice sana #twice momo #twice jihyo #twice mina #twice dahyun #twice chaeyoung #twice tzuyu

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dahvangogh · 5 years ago

Text

and empty words are evil | Jason Todd

[ prologue | one | two | three ]

[ao3 link]

note: Another week, another new chapter. Unfortunately, I haven't gotten any comments yet (except one in tumblr) but I did get a few kudos and hits which made me incredibly happy. I hope I got the new characters' introduced in this chapter well... like I'm a bit scared that they sound OOC or not credible enough. What do you think? Leave a comment on AO3 or here, please!

Also, I apologize for any grammatical mistakes, I tried my best to correct it all but I might have missed some things (english is not my native language)

Take care, guys. xx

CHAPTER TWO

“Life is what happens to us while we are making other plans.”

― Allen Saunders

The art gallery this morning was emptier than a banker’s heart, which suits her best if she is being honest, with her current predicament and all. While she doesn't work at the art gallery per se, like showing the displayed artworks or buying imported ones, she does work at the back of the gallery in one of the many workshops. Hence, if the place is full or has a chatty crowd, the sound will still get to her and echo all over her workshop.

Thankfully, that isn't the case today.

Grace is sporting a hangover as big as the Empire State Building. Yesterday night, while checking pictures and maps of Black Mask’s warehouse surroundings, she had chugged down two expensive wine bottles as if they were water.

You reap what you sow, dumbass.

She didn’t even like wine, like at all.

Her boss Rose had gifted her the two bottles for her birthday very kindly and when yesterday night she had seen the bottles collect dust in her pantry, she had thought she either drunk them now or threw them to the nearest trash can.

A coughing, as if someone was throat cleaning, sounds from behind and startles her.

Grace stops her precise strokes with the cotton swab and throws it into a bowl with many others that have been used before. Then, as she turns around towards the workshop door, she lowers her face mask. Her boss, a beautiful mature woman sporting amazing pink hair up in a tight knot and matching it with multicolored eyeshadow, is standing at the threshold of the door, tapping away something on her phone.

“How is it going with the portrait?”

Her gaze is still on the phone.

“Great. Maximum two or three days outmost for me. Then Caesar can frame it again and we can return it to the owner.”

At that, her boss looks up at her and smiles as kindly as usual. Rose Whitehall was the type of boss many dreamed about having.

And Grace knew she was lucky to have her.

When she had come to Gotham City, the first day Grace had visited Gotham’s Art Palace and fallen completely in love. She had hunted down Rose Whiteman, resume in hand, and insisted for weeks to have her at least be an intern. Rose had taken her resume and scanned it from head to bottom, commenting on how lucky Grace had been to be doing her apprenticeship on Museum Island in Berlin. Then, she had agreed to take her as an intern for two months. If she was as good as it seemed from her resume, she would hire her.

And now here she is, working for Rose and getting paid every month doing what she loves most.

“The owner will be coming in fifteen minutes, Grace.” She says which instantly makes Grace gape at that, eyes wide in shock. Forget what I said, she is a fucking bitch… “Don’t worry! He just wants to see how the process of restoration is going.”

Thank God.

The raven-haired girl now raises one of her brows in question.

“It isn’t common, I know. But we needed to check some details for the Gotham Annual Gala Dinner he is hosting, the one where we will auction some artwork, and he asked if it was possible to see it.” Rose approaches her while explaining. Then, she stands beside her looking at the big white worktable where the painting is placed and being restored. “You see, this portrait is very important to him.”

Grace stares at the painted canvas too.

It is a huge family portrait, clearly of a wealthy family, and the members seem happy. The tall man has broad-shoulders, probably in his early thirties, and is wearing an expensive-looking suit with matching black tie. His combed dark hair contrasts quite a bit with his vibrant blue eyes. Besides the proud man stands a dashing woman, probably in her mid-twenties, with light brown hair up in a chignon and soft but plump pink lips. She is wearing a green strapless dress, those that you would only wear in formal events or at a Gala.

From the first moment Grace had seen the painting, the woman had taken her breath away, –despite how dirty and darkened the portrait is–. She still looked positively and extraordinarily beautiful. If Grace had ever seen her walking down the street, she would have immediately taken her small sketchpad out of her handbag and drawn her.

The painter clearly had done a remarkable job depicting them.

Though, as usual with any type of paints, the painting was forever condemned to be restored a few times and treated with preventive care until the owner decides to dispose of it.

Now, Grace follows with her eyesight the strong hand that the man has placed on a petite shoulder, and a smile immediately blooms on her face. It always happened these past days too. Whenever she looked at the third and last member of the painting she would inevitably smile.

A young boy.

He was probably six or seven years old when the portrait had been done. He looks like the spitting image of the older man, undoubtedly they were father and son, but has the same soft smile as the lovely woman.

“You have done a remarkable job, Grace.”

Her boss pats her on the shoulder, still looking at the couple depicted on the portrait.

“I never asked… do you know them? Personally, I mean… ”

Rose smiles sadly.

“My parents were friends with them, so I do remember meeting the family once or twice at dinner parties… sadly, the couple passed away due to very unfortunate circumstances.”

Grace now smiles saddened, trying not to imagine the sweet young boy crying in front of two stone gravels, utterly alone in the world.

A whistle-like sound, which Grace knows by now that it means a notification of Rose’s phone, echoes all over the workshop.

“And that must be him.”

Rose starts walking towards the door, the sound of her heels following her, but stops and then looks over her shoulder.

“Keep working on that! Now!”

And with a wink, she walks off towards the gallery section, disappearing from her sight.

“Aye, aye, captain!”

Grace pulls up her white face mask and rubs her gloved hands together, feeling a bit anxious about facing a client for the first time. She has never done so, an art restorer never meets her client unless she works at a museum –which means the museum is the owner, unless the piece was donated, that's another case altogether.

Though in this case... She did know that the restoration of this portrait was a special request to Rose, she said so, but now she understands why. The reason being that Rose knew the family sort of personally.

But she still never expected to meet the client.

She assesses that she mustn’t look that bad, thanking her morning-self for choosing an outfit that looks classy and professional on her.

Her hair is tied up with a ribbon in a high ponytail, very 60s with how her curls look, and her floral long skirt complements her white v-neck blouse. She had even gone as far as putting on some nude lipstick which looked great with her Bridget Bardot inspired eye look.

I hope my eye make up isn't ruined... Pandas don't look professional and efficient.

She sighs loudly.

Wait… Why in Hell am I worried about how I look? Pull yourself together!

She sighs again, which feels weird while wearing a face mask, and now picks up a new cotton swab, proceeding with socking it in a special liquid for cleaning. Before being interrupted, Grace was working on some details on the young boy’s suit and so now she goes back to working on that.

If everything goes according to her plan, she will finish today with the final touch-ups, and tomorrow she will varnish the whole thing.

Grace focuses on the section of the boy’s suit, who is placed at the bottom of the painting, and starts cleaning.

She has taken longer on this work because of how huge it was, plus she had two other more urgent works to do. Nevertheless, she feels confident that between today and tomorrow she can perfectly finish it.

Suddenly, the brunette sees a dark blurb move from the corner of her eye and so she stops her soft strokes to look beside her.

A child?

The young boy is attentively looking at her hand and analyzing its movements.

She raises an eyebrow in question.

The boy turns to look at her, his brows now furrowed and arms crossed, as if pissed that she has stopped doing her job.

They both stare at each other, no words spoken between them for a bit.

“You are surprisingly good for someone so young.” His child-like voice is a heavy contrast to how serious and formal his words are. “Though I assured father that I was more than capable of handling such an easy task.”

Grace blinks a few times, at first paying more attention to the pale scar at the tail of his right eyebrow that stands out against his tan skin, but then she registers what he has just said.

You little sh...

“Then your father was being smart, for such a delicate portrait deserves an experienced hand and....” She pulls her face mask down and smiles sweetly, all while looking down at him. “I highly doubt you would be up to that high standard.”

The boy, despite his sun-kissed skin, blushes notoriously. Yet, his brows are still furrowed, even more so now than before.

“I will have you know that… ”

He looks adorable, all angry while clenching his fists at his sides, and she can help but soften at the sight.

Grace quickly interrupts him.

“Though I’m sure that with proper study and practice, when you are older you might be able.”

He blinks a few times and then relaxes, though still sporting his adorable blush.

“Damian, don’t harass the lady while she is working.”

A deep and rich voice asks –probably to the boy, Damian is not her name– and both the kid and her turn their heads towards the threshold.

She holds a gasp.

Grace has just come across Bruce Wayne himself.

He is standing in the workshop threshold, all calm and poise. The man is surprisingly more handsome in real life than in the newspapers or tv. He is beautiful, yet I wouldn't paint him ever. Don't mistake her, he is handsome as hell. He looks extremely fit in his probably very expensive dark suit and as dashing as ever with his chiseled face, straight nose, and smiling soft lips. Yet something is amiss with him.

He doesn't look whole.

Too perfect.

“Father!”

She turns towards the young boy and sees it. The connection. They are identical, though Damian reaches her elbow, has a much darker complexion and his eyes are green instead of blue. Everything else is positively the same. As in the same well-kept haircut, long at the top and not too short at the sides –though the boy' is styled more child-friendly–, the same bone structure in the face and the same poise while standing.

Damian is a walking mini-Bruce.

The man walks towards them, still all calm and charm, and she can't help but search for any flaws. His blue eyes feel like they are analyzing her, which she quickly attributes to him being a worried father of finding alone his child with a total stranger, and so she tries to relax her and look non-threatening. After all, they were just talking.

“Bruce Wayne.” he introduces himself, offering his big hand. “Quite young for an art restorer, aren’t you?”

You just didn't...

She tries to smile and raises her hand, not shaking his but waving it.

“Grace Henderson, would shake your hand but I’m wearing protective gloves and they need to be as clean as possible,” she says nonchalantly, though she still wants to grunt out loud for his damn comment. “I’m 25 years old and was personally tasked to do this by Miss Whitehall, though I personally believe she knows what she is doing, you are more than free to go and request another restorer.”

She hears Damian laugh, but she holds Bruce's stare, not backing out.

He smiles charmingly, taking a step forward.

“I didn’t mean to… ”

Her smile enlarges.

“Yes, you did.” Grace waves her hand as if dismissing him. “I’m used to it, though. So no offense is taken.”

Liar... It stinks.

Bruce opens his mouth as if to reply with something, but then his eyes zoom on the portrait laying on the work table and he instantly closes it.

He stares at it, almost as if zooming out.

“Well... Now I can see why.” He smiles, not a charming one but a soft-looking one, his eyes shining a bit. “It looks just like the first time I saw it.”

Both Damian and her turn towards the portrait on the worktable.

She rubs her hands, a bit taken aback by the subtle compliment.

“It’s still not finished! I’m giving it the final touches now and tomorrow I will varnish it properly.”

She looks at him, expecting another smart comment, but he is still attentively looking at the canvas.

Oh my...

Grace holds the gasp in, realizing that the young boy in the portrait is none other than the man standing right beside her. Bruce Wayne, who had lost his parents tragically when he was a young boy, patron of the city and famous playboy. The sight of a young boy crying in front of two gray graves materializes in her mind again.

She gulps.

“Caesar who is a more experienced curator will frame it again and will also take care of the handling of the portrait until it is delivered safely to you.” She further explains, her voice shaking a bit. “It will be as good as new, I promise.”

The handsome man now turns to her and smiles kindly, placing a hand on her arm.

“Thank you for your hard work. Rose assured me that it was being handled by the best hands, but still… ” He moves his head to the side, presses his lips together for a moment and then smiles again. “I wanted to be sure.”

She nods reassuringly.

“I understand.”

Bruce takes his big hand off her arm and places his other atop Damian’s head.

“And again, I hope Damian wasn’t bothering you too much.”

The young boy huffs, crossing his arms and raising one of his eyebrows at his father’s words, either embarrassed or annoyed.

“Not at all.” She looks at both of them with a smirk on her lips. “He seemed to think the same as you.”

Bruce looks down at Damian, who raises his chin almost proudly while staring at the work table and the portrait.

“Though I believe that was just a misconception…” She lowers a bit her torso towards him and smiles truthfully at the young boy. “Right, Damian?”

Now the dark-haired boy turns to look at her, but just as suddenly as he does that, he blushes. Quickly, probably to hide it away, he turns his stare towards the workplace again while his hands move towards his back in a very regal pose.

Then he huffs.

Aw... Adorable.

Bruce looks at him, curiosity now shining in his blue eyes, and then laughs broadly. The man pats ruffles his son’s head.

“He is very much interested in the arts, Miss Henderson.”

Grace finally feels herself relax fully in their presence, her body completely viewing Bruce and Damian Wayne as nonthreatening.

He won't hurt me.

“I assumed as much.” She focuses on Damian, who is looking askance at her, and she smiles again. Grace sees a bit of her in him. “Well, if you ever want to talk about art... You will be more than welcome here.”

That seems to catch his attention. Damian now turns to look at her fully, curiosity shining in his green eyes, and raises his chin as if trying to seem taller.

“I might, though my schedule is usually very full.”

Bruce laughs again while Grace nods –trying very hard to hold a laugh in– at what Damian just said. He sounds like a tiny old man.

“Perfect. And with that settled… we will leave you to your work, miss Henderson.”

She nods again, turning towards Bruce.

“Pleasure to meet you both.”

He nods.

They both leisurely walk towards the exit of the workshop, but while Bruce doesn't look back, Damian looks over his shoulder at her.

Her smile is sweet, waving her hand to say goodbye.

“Bye, Damian.”

He answers with a humph, a pretty blush on his cheeks, and disappears from her sight together with his father.

– – –

The elevator of her apartment complex, one of the many skyscrapers in Gotham City, is probably slower than a snail. She leans back on the mirror, not wanting to see her reflection, and sighs loudly.

As if the elevator would notice her annoyance and decide to finally be quicker.

Her phone vibrates on her hand.

She unblocks it and laughs softly when she reads Harley’s message.

hey hey hey! tonight is the night, right?

I haven’t been this excited since x-mas.

Grace sends a reply as fast as lightning.

Chill, girl. I will be at your house around midnight or so.

A bubble with three periods appears, Harley writing an answer at the moment.

GREAT! I will make margaritas then, to celebrate, ya’ know?!

The dark-haired rolls her eyes, a smirk now plastered on her lips, and the doors of her elevator finally open on her floor. She sees the amazing views, even in the hallway, and her shoulders finally sink. Tonight Grace just wants to have a bubble bath and rewatch her favorite movie, Top Gun, while munching a few snacks.

She pouts while opening her apartment’s door.

But suddenly, when thinking about what she will actually do tonight, the butterflies appear and start flying like crazy in her stomach.

Grace’s mood changes.

She had really missed doing her thing and Harley’s offer was the perfect excuse to finally put on the suit and say goodbye to her boundaries.

Normal is overrated, girl.

The midnight-haired girl writes a quick reply while kicking her shoes off.

Can’t wait!

– – –

The night air is ice cold and furious, smacking on her cheeks nonstop and messing with the hair of her ponytail. Her domino mask is only protecting her eye area, so the other parts of her head are now being subjected to the icy harsh wind and she can’t do anything about it.

Perhaps I should invest in a full-face mask or a helmet…

Nevertheless, despite the cold, she had missed the feeling of her suit on her skin. It is a full-on one, completely black and its texture similar to shiny leather, with a thin Kevlar armor underneath it and a utility belt laying low around her hips. Her high heeled boots and pair of gloves are also the same material as her suit. Furthermore, to conceal her identity, not only does she wear her domino mask but she has also grown her hair to waist length, wearing it in a sleek high ponytail.

Her powers can do wonders.

Thank you, Sir meteorite. The powers you have given me will never cease to amaze me.

She sees a new white van coming, then parking in the big parking lot in front of the warehouse’s main door and four men get off from it.

Black Mask’s warehouse is at Miller Harbor, surrounded by many other storage facilities and storehouses, which makes it quite easy for her. The storage facility in front of the warehouse has four floors, the building a bit higher than other facilities around it, so she has the perfect view of the warehouse and surroundings.

She is sitting on the rooftop’ railing, childishly kicking her feet up and munching the leftovers of kebab, while observing a group of five Black Mask’s thugs unload the truck while two others guard the door.

Mr. Ahmed, I would marry you if I didn’t know you already had a wife; she can’t help but think about the sweet cook. Your kebabs are the reason why I still believe in humanity.

She finishes it and crumples the aluminum foil, making a ball out of it. Then throws it up in the air and waves her hand at it, making it disappear in thin air as if it had never even existed.

Where? It’s better if you don’t ask her.

“Time to play.”

She jumps off the railing and extends her arms, her body pose resembling a cross up in the air, and lets the restraint on her powers go. Grace knows that she won’t break her legs, also very sure that a soft green bluish glow surrounds her, and so she lands gracefully on the ground.

Her high-heeled black boots make its characteristic sound as she calmly walks towards the parking lot and the thugs.

All of these guys are big, as in they probably live in a gym by the day and work here by night type of big. They are all dressed in black, wearing bulletproof vests and military boots in said colors, some even wearing black beanies or gloves due to the cold of October.

However, both the four thugs keep unloading big boxes out of the truck’s onto the pavement and the pair at the main door don’t seem to even register her presence.

“Need a hand, boys?”

All of them look up towards her, two even pulling out handguns while the others pull out knives and where the heck did that guy put a baton off?

“Girl! Get the fuck out of here!”

“Where did she come from!?”

“Get lost or we will fuck you up!”

She laughs sweetly.

“Sorry, no can do.”

And she goes out to town.

Grace runs towards the one closest to her and jumps, her legs enclosing his thick neck, then pulls him towards the ground. She hears the loud sound his head makes when it hits the pavement, but without missing a bit she extends both her arms at her sides, palms up and glowing in her usual color. A wave of power flows through her hands and they fly across the parking lot.

Four down, two left.

“You!” One of the guys at the door says, running towards her with a shotgun in his hands.

She waves a hand, a motion of shooing away, and he collides against the main door.

One left.

Grace calmly walks towards the last one, who is shaking in fear or perhaps because of how cold it is, still guarding the main door despite his buddy being knocked out near it. His aura is shaking like jello. When she stands a few feet away from him, now trying not to laugh at the poor man trying to be brave, he directs the muzzle of his shotgun at her.

“Hello.”

“What… what are you!?”

The raven-haired merely smiles in answer and extends her left hand, the man floating at the speed of light towards her hand, like a magnet attracted to a metal piece.

Grace tightens her hold, now estrangling him while he still floats in the air.

“Where are the explosives?”

He croaks, opening his mouth like a fish a few times, emitting broken sounds.

The raven-haired scrunches her nose, then relaxes her hold on his neck just a bit, easing the flow of air to his lungs so he might talk more easily.

“Where is it?”

He opens and closes his mouth again and again, but no sound comes out from his thin and chapped lips.

“If I… If I tell you, he will kill me!” He cries out, his legs kicking the air uselessly, visibly shaking. “I can’t tell you! I can’t! He will kill me! He will kill my family!”

She grunts a bit, tightening her chokehold on his neck.

“Trust me… If you don’t tell me where it is right now, whatever I do to you will be ten times much worse than what he might do.” Her voice now raised an octave, pushing him through a burst of power to the hard metal doors. Next, she pushes him with each following word for emphasis.“So tell me. Now.”

His mouth keeps opening like a fish but still, no sound comes out of it.

“I see… ” she says, sighing dramatically.

Time to put on a good show.

She closes her eyes and tries to center her powers on only her vision, but her power is too unstable and takes much concentration than that. So she relaxes herself, takes a bit of time, and then the brightness of the glow that surrounds her whole body reaches sun-like-blaze levels. There. Next, while she bites her lips trying to focus much more, she visualizes what she wants to achieve. A few seconds pass and when she finally opens them, she has mastered the brightness and her eyes are now the only thing shinning.

As in shinning as bright as the sun.

But there it is, also that side of her powers that is too untameable or unstable to fully be mastered by her. Grace feels her hair float, almost like there is no gravity surrounding her, which she hadn't meant to do.

Nevertheless, it probably helps her look scary and powerful. So, she tights her choke on his neck.

“One last chance… ” her voice sounds modified, not human at all, which she hadn't meant to do either.

She sees him open his eyes –if it is even possible– much more open than before, sort of like a cartoon character would do. Grace now knows that she looks terrifying with her domino mask with glowing eyes, hair floating around, and a creepy voice.

“No! No! No!” he begs in a yell, still kicking his feet up, completely horrified. “Wait! Wait! Wait, please! I will tell… I will tell you!”

She relaxes a bit her hold.

“They are stored inside three wood boxes... and they have written fragile in red capital letters all over them.” he croaks, and Grace feels every word he says through the palm of her hand. “They are the only ones marked with those words, to differentiate them!”

She nods, registering the information.

“Thank you.”

And she smacks his head hard against the metallic door.

The raven-haired checks the auras of all the thugs scattered around her, to see if they are still unconscious or if there are more out there that she hasn't seen, but what she finds confuses her. There are seven more scattered inside and around the warehouse, but weirdly enough they feel like they are barely there.

Oh, oh. Not good.

This reminds her of the first time she killed someone. When she had her first run with the Serbian Mafia, one of the caporegimes had infuriated her so much that she had just killed him right then and there, on the spot. Despite instantly becoming a target for them. And the feeling… She had felt how the soldier’s aura slowly evaporated into nothingness. Similar to how the light of a bulb diminishes until it completely burns out.

Those auras sort of felt like that.

However, they could probably be saved if she called an ambulance or the police.

What do I do? Should I...?

She sighs, still debating about it, and while opening the door, searches for more auras. Trying to find either a perpetrator or another human being who would help them. However, there aren’t any on the warehouse or its premises.

Weird.

Grace scrunches her nose, overthinking for a few seconds until the thought of them working for Black Mask and probably having done bad things for him makes her decide to just leave their fate to luck.

Screw it.

The raven-haired girl lets her powers surround her, no longer focusing on her eyes, and starts walking inside confidently.

Whatever is inside, it should be scared of me.

The first thing she notices is how the lights are out, which she quickly remedies with a snap of her fingers, then how the whole warehouse is full of thousands of wooden boxes scattered around, though the pillars here and there obstruct her view a bit. The place reminds her of a hangar but without the airplanes and fighter planes.

She groans, cursing herself for not asking where exactly are the boxes placed, and so she starts walking around looking for something red.

No red.

A Subway's meal leftovers.

No red.

Is that a used condom? Ew. Also, no red.

No red.

A few minutes later, she ends up at the center of the warehouse. The three boxes are stacked up in pairs of two, so the odd one is pilled up with another one without a mark on it. She kneels in front of the regular box, now debating whether to take it with her too or to just do some heavy lifting and stack the odd one with the others, until she feels it.

So bright and warm.

Oh my…

Grace even gasps loudly.

An aura, five feet behind her, burning as bright and fiery as the blazing sun.

It could burn me alive if an aura was even tangible.

She had probably been too immersed in searching for the correct boxes that she hadn’t realized the moment the person had stepped in. Moreover, before going inside, she had checked if there was anyone else around and had come across no one on the premises. So, that person had probably entered when she was looking for her special cargo.

This is Black Mask's fault! Screw him for having his warehouse so disorganized! Didn't his mother ever teach him of keeping his things tidy?!

Grace tries to center herself, not wanting to appear scared or nervous. Then, rising up calmly from her kneeling position, she turns around and comments nonchalantly: “It is considered rude to stare at someone and not greet them.”

Red.

That’s what she first sees.

A man wearing a red helmet, no facial expression on it, with white slits in the form of eyes. He is standing five feet away from her, leaning nonchalantly against a pillar, his arms crossed against his ample chest and with his military tactical boots also crossed at the ankles.

Red?

She scans him while thinking of Gotham's vigilantes and criminals.

Red...

Red Robin? No, he isn't wearing that weird cape Lisa mentioned.

“Red Hood, I presume?”

He shrugs, all calm but fiery aura.

“In the flesh.”

His voice low and tinted with humor.

Red Hood looks like a brute, as in a big and quite muscular guy. He is wearing a brown leather jacket and underneath it, some sort of black-grey armored under-shirt with a red bat symbol Emblem in the middle of the pectoral area. His black-grey cargo pants are the same color as his undershirt, almost making it look like it's a whole bodysuit, plus also carrying two tactical holsters united in a utility black belt.

Damn, someone doesn’t skip leg day. Those are some big thighs.

His tighs are probably bigger than her head, though she tries not to stare too much.

She probably fails, but whatever.

“Thought you didn’t go around killing people anymore?” she tries to buy time, remembering what Lisa had told her about the vigilante.

She bobs her head to the left, assessing him.

Red Hood. Gun guy. Former Crime Lord, had painted Gotham City red until he had stopped killing and started using the same methods as Batman & Co. Still, too ruthless for my liking. You say his name and everyone shits their pants. A vigilante, but not one you want to meet, unlike Nightwing or Batgirl. From what I heard from one of the police guys at the clinic, he is good in a fight, quite at par with Batman.

He stands up from his position, and while he is looking calm and confident, she can clearly see the signs of him being ready for whatever she is about to do.

“Rough night. Bat can suck it.” his voice is low and clearly electronically modified. Then, he points at her with his black-gloved hand, like a child. “Now, time for you to introdu… ”

She holds her glowing left hand up, interrupting him midsentence.

Then, she runs towards him.

“And you talk about manners…” his annoying voice chastises her, which somehow irks her.

Grace knows she probably won't win against him like this, but he clearly has a big ego and his confidence can be used against him.

Men and their egos.

He effortlessly dodges her first punch, which she knew he would, and she throws another one towards his face. Red Hood merely captures her fist in his gloved hand, a tight hold that almost feels like he will break all her bones, and clucks humorously.

“You suck at fighting, so stick to magic.”

She wants to roll her eyes so badly.

They are pretty close, only a feet apart, and despite her high-heeled boots she still has to look up to see his masked face. It irks her even more, her height is something that has always bothered her.

“Oh… As you wish.”

She smiles prettily while shrugging her shoulders.

One of his feet steps back, his instinct probably screaming at him to pull back and so he tries to pull away, letting go of her fist, but it is already too late.

Got you.

Grace opens her fist up and he starts floating, a feet up in the air, his jacket opening a bit with how fast she elevated him. He has a green bluish glow around him, which is actually what is keeping him up, and she starts to smack the air.

His face turns left and right, clearly feeling her slaps, completely powerless to her ministrations.

“It’s fun, right?” she laughs, though she feels no joy or pleasure from what she is doing. “You should have shot me right when you saw me, Red.”

He grunts but gives no further reaction.

She stops slapping the air and his face stops moving, still motionless and floating in the air. She supposes he is looking at her, after all his red helmet is facing her.

“I heard so much about you.” She stares at those white slits, smiling sweetly at the man. “From what I heard, you painted Gotham City red for a few months. So many fear you… If only they saw you now. Completely powerless.”

The explosives, girl. Focus! she tries to focus on her “mission” and stops mocking him. Right, the explosives.

The raven-haired girl keeps her hand up, keeping him afloat, and turns to the side. She is still able to see him, but now can also clearly see the wooden boxes.

“Who are you?” he asks, humor no longer in his voice. He doesn’t seem scared, which sort of surprises her a bit. “What do you want with Black Mask? What are you doing in Gotham?”

“None of your business, Little Red Riding Hood.” she mocks him, scrunching her nose in annoyance. “Now shut it or I will gag you.”

She raises her other hand and with her open palm, draws an O near where the boxes are located, closing her eyes and furrowing her brows for further concentration. Grace pictures Harley’s house, not the inside of it, but the front door. Just the front door. She hears the wind howling and when she opens her eyes again, inside the perimeter of the O there is the view of Harley’s door.

Grace knows she has a few precious seconds before the portal closes –multitasking was never her forte– and so she quickly directs her palm’s towards the boxes, imagining them floating as if there was no gravity.

“His explosives?” Red Hood grumbles in a low whisper, probably a thought said out loud.

Suddenly, a surge of power in her characteristic color surrounds them and the boxes start floating as Red Hood currently is. Then, they start dancing through the air towards the portal until crossing it and gently settling in the doorstep.

Mission Accomplished.

She snaps her fingers and the portal closes, just as if she had just turned the TV off with a remote.

Now, let's get out of here.

Grace turns around and lowers her other hand. Red Hood slowly starts lowering towards the ground, still surrounded by her power and fully in her control.

The raven-haired girl purses her lips and then smiles, as if a great idea has just come to her.

“Now, would you please sit down like a good boy and let me leave unharmed?” she asks in a pleading mocking tone.

She can imagine him smirking under the helmet while huffing a laugh, despite being at her mercy, and she can feel danger oozing from him.

The man is clearly not scared of her.

And very confident in himself.

“No can do, sweetheart.” his raspy and modified voice almost shocks her.

She walks towards him with a pout on her lips, trying to appear confident when she actually isn’t feeling like that at all, and looks up at him. Grace hopes she looks sort of attractive, or at least cute enough to not make him kill her if she slips and lets him go.

“Pity.” she exaggerates her pout, totally mocking him. “I would have even invited you to a drink or something.”

Wait... why do I sound flirty?

He lowers his head a bit, which to say the least surprises her. He shouldn't be able to move at all, but he has just moved his head, and so she tries to not freak out in front of him. To keep calm and seem confident.

“Let me go.”

She laughs as if that comment is the funniest thing she has ever heard.

“As if I’m that stupid.” she pats his chest with her left hand, leaning into him. “You will turn me into a colander. So, no. Your guns stay where they are. Thank you.”

He lets out a laugh that rumbles through his chest, clearly amused. Grace can even feel it through her gloves and his armored under-shirt, and she tries not to laugh too.

“I could go slow… be gentle.”

She answers with a moan as if the mere idea excites her, and did he just take a small step forward?

He is starting to break through, shit. You should have mind-controlled him, idiot!

“As tempting as that sounds, I will have to pass on that… You see,” She pats his chest for emphasis one last time, nodding along to what she herself just said. Then, she shrugs her shoulders.“I’m an old-fashioned girl, so you would have to take me to dinner first. Perhaps even sweep me off my feet?”

The raven-haired girl turns around and when she is a few feet away, just where the wooden boxes were sitting before, she opens the portal again to Harley’s house. She crosses through it, her footsteps slow but surely, until she no longer is standing inside Black Mask's warehouse but in Harley's doorstep with the four boxes.

Grace proceeds to raise her left hand, as if throwing something over her shoulder, and she doesn't have to turn around to know that the walls close on the Red Hood.

Yet, she still turns around to see. She doesn't know why, but she views as the whole building crumbles in, no sight of Red Hood, who is probably dead or buried underneath all the rubble.

She doesn't feel good.

But she knew he wouldn't let her go, not before probably torturing her or giving her up to Batman or even to the police.

“Goodbye, Red.”

#jason todd fanfiction #Jason Todd x reader #jason todd x you #Jason Todd x oc #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #dc fanfiction #dc imagine #my writing #hope you all like it #aewae ff

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danganronpedits-archived · 4 years ago

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same anon from before, tumblr ate my ask im so sorry!! i would like a kin match up please, im an INFP and my friends tell me im a pushover and too nice to people who dont deserve it/too trusting,, i usually never open up to people and i use humor to cope,,, i like being alone and i rly prefer animals over people. im told to stop apologizing a lot, ee here are some sources!!:mysticmessenger,danganronpa, camp camp,n anything else i luv a lot of sources!!

don’t feel too bad, anon!!! i totally get it, tumblr’s got weird restrictions on asks,,,, another anon i did a matchup for had the same problem! it’s not your fault at all!!! um, but i can definitely get the matchup done for you! i am kind of uncomfortable with camp camp as a source, so the major matchups will be based around mysmes and danganronpa!! i’m sorry!!! your matchup is under the cut, since i realise these kinds of posts can get pretty long ,,,!

-mod tsu (placeholder mikan shift icons!! i’m working on better ones!!!)

first off, from mystic messenger, i match you with...

yoosung kim!

this section will contain spoilers for yoosung’s route, and mystic mesenger as a whole! please proceed with caution! i think that yoosung, at times, can be a pushover or too trusting- a strong example that comes to my mind is when seven tells him that... well, that you can die from drinking chocolate milk. as in, that yoosung has a disease yoosung completely believes it, and believes that he has accidentally poisoned himself, only to be taken off guard whenever the truth is revealed. i don’t mean to assume you’re gullible or anything!!! but i think that you could also relate to the embarrassment/shame that comes with being duped like this. um,, and i also don’t want to call you insecure,, but i think that something that comes with being anxious like how you seem is... like, blaming yourself for your mistakes !! i totally get that, but,, sometimes it’s not your fault, you know ?,,, um, but whenever yoosung finds out that seven was just joking around, while he is angry with the latter, he seems more disappointed in himself that he didn’t catch on. plus, the others do tease him a bit- that probably didn’t help. i could see the both of you not wanting to go on the defensive, and just more... crying. i would say that he is a bit less of a ‘real puppy', as the RFA members describe him, around V. however, i think that the two of you definitely have your limits with your kindness- rika was a person who was very important to yoosung, and V, to his knowledge, is someone who didn’t take her ‘death’ seriously. i think that if someone really hurt you personally, then you would maybe be less forgiving or kind towards them... but that’s just my own guessing!! i don’t want to be presumptuous!! um, i do think that of your mbti type, yoosung is at the very least an introvert. i think that someone more extroverted would find comfort in other people,,, while yoosung finds comfort in video games. um, this also ties into him not really opening up a lot of the time...

while yoosung does admit personal facts about himself ingame(such as him not having a girlfriend, or his distrust of V) i’d still argue that he doesn’t open up much, at least not at first. this is a strong part of yoosung that i think you can relate to- for both of you, the people you associate with have a general gist of what you’re like, but they may not be able to fully get into your mind and work out the reasoning behind your thought process. that’s not their fault or anything,,! it’s just that... i think it’s hard to know how to. but the point is, yoosung is severely depressed after rika’s death, and while it’s implied, we don’t properly learn that he copes with it through video games(and also loses his motivation to perform well in school, even though he knows it’s disappointing his parents) until later on in the story. i think that you may be able to relate to this, being aware of your responsibilities, but not being able to handle them for one reason or another. ah, but that’s just a shot in the dark!! i’m sorry if that’s completely wrong,, um, but yoosung is kind of comic relief for the first part of the game. while he may not mean for this to be intentional, i just... seeing that ketchup smiley face on the omelette... it’s the funniest picture on earth. i wish i was in the meeting where cheritz decided to make that a thing, and saw the art process... sorry that’s off topic!! he does like to be alone, though, i think!! that’s to an extent of course,, but two of his biggest hobbies are video games and cooking- both of which can be done with others, but are typically things done in solace. even volunteering, another one of his hobbies, doesn’t inherently mean working with other people... at least, not all the time. lastly, while i do think he’s fine with people, he may be able to find more comfort in animals. an example of this is how he dotes on rika’s dog, versus how he kind of struggles to get along with people like jumin and jaehee.

second off, from danganronpa, i match you with...

chihiro fujisaki!

i’ll be using she/her for chihiro on this post!! to start, for your MBTI type, chihiro is absolutely an introvert. her career is in programming, and considering that she tends to not work on a team for this, i’d say that programming is one of the most do-it-yourself activites out there. to quote the description of infp’s,,, “While they may be perceived as calm, reserved, or even shy, Mediators have an inner flame and passion that can truly shine.” this is just... a short, but encompassing description of chihiro. for starters, chihiro is definitely someone who i’d describe as a bit of a pushover,, while she is working on getting stronger and bettering herself(see the “flame and passion” in the INFP description), she is also kind to a remarkable, ‘pushover’-ish extent. even towards people like byakuya and hifumi(who isn’t inherently a bad person, but many are made... uncomfortable by his presence), chihiro tends to back off or take blame instead of fighting back against their... iffy remarks. with hifumi specifically, there are times when he’ll rave about his fanfiction career, and chihiro will respond with trying to make him happy, taking it in stride. i think that other people may find his demeanor as a reason to be uncomfortable by him- but she doesn’t see him in that way. she even tries to help him grow closer to the media he loves, saying “ I'm going to work hard to create something that can make people happy... And when I do complete it, I want you to try talking to it.” to him. chihiro also tends to not fully open up to people- like yoosung, you can get a general grip on her personality. however, with her gender-related issues, she only opens up to mondo whenever her identity will be revealed regardless, and that’s after at least ten years of keeping it all to herself. maybe you’re not that reserved, but it’s not something that most people would pick up on at first !! maybe you have tendencies that are in that similar “most people don’t really notice them” way at first,,!!

next up, while chihiro tends to take things from others rather seriously, she can be a little joking at times! particularly as someone’s straight man, chihiro tends to be good at deciphering gundham’s statements (Gundham: “Offerings such as birds grilled in hellfire and ensorcelled confections. [...] Go and eat.” Chihiro: “So you want to share the food and cake from the party with me?”), which aren’t exactly things to laugh openly at, but i smiled at it. she does seem to like to be alone- like yoosung, i don’t think she dislikes people per say, but a lot of others can make her feel standoffish or out of place ingame. i think you can relate to that, feeling like you don’t exactly belong when talking to others... so you just don’t because it’s draining, having all that nervousness. also, she’s said ingame that she really likes rabbits and hamsters, and that she’d like to have one as a pet. she’s not told to stop apologising too much, though her habit of saying sorry is pointed out several times ingame. plus, characters like kaede and makoto are quick to say that she doesn’t need to or that things are okay, so... maybe you can also understand that side of it! i’m realising that i didn’t expand on chihiro’s niceness enough,, i may not need to, but chihiro is described as “one of the kindest and softest characters in Danganronpa”. she literally wouldn’t hurt a fly(or, mosquito) because it might have a family, and if you give her something she strongly dislikes in free time, she’ll say “Um...well... I'm sure someone else will appreciate having that more than me. Maybe you should find someone to give it to who can make better use of it...”. she’s very gentle with the feelings of... well, everyone and everything around her, and i think that you could maybe feel that way too!! i definitely get being hesitant when talking with other people, and not wanting to hurt them,, i hope that you’ll be able to grow more confident, anon!!

and lastly, from danganronpa, i match you with...

mikan tsumiki!

maybe you saw this coming ;!! i think that mikan can definitely be described as a pushover, she’s been severely bullied her whole life and her default state is freaking out. in terms of INFP, i think that while she wants people to like her(and is borderline attention-seeking), she is an introvert to an extent. like with chihiro, the anxiety that comes with talking to others can be exhausting- her ‘energy’ around others is more fueled by that adrenaline. however, i’m sure that she regenerates by being alone, even if it gives her paranoia. maybe you relate to that, but not on such a high scale- like, you could be by yourself for a while, and that could make you worried that you’ve been away from other people for too long. with the F part of INFP(feeling), i think that this is a key part of mikan’s personality, actually. while some may see her reliance on medical knowledge as her leaning towards T(thinking), i think that for most of the problems in her life, she just goes with her gut. a lot of her reactions to other people are based on her own emotions, and i’d say that you can relate to that too. i get being a more emotional than logical thinker, anon, so don’t feel stupid or bad about it, haha... i wouldn’t be surprised if you’re easily made nervous just in general, and if part of you apologising is because... you feel like you messed up in a conversation, or that you might have upset someone. i’m sure that you’re not as bad as you may think you are, anon ,,, um, i think that mikan can definitely be too trusting/nice towards people that don’t deserve it. she’s very kind to hiyoko despite the dancer’s mistreatment of her(despite having an underlying resentment towards her), and even in the face of people like junko and kokichi, she doesn’t take their misleading tactics as... lies or manipulation, despite it being a little obvious, instead trusting that they have good intentions. even in kokichi’s case, when he admits that he was faking sick, she apologises for figuring out his lie. even if he is taking it easy on her, i think both you and her are good at finding out reasons that... well, you’ve done something wrong.

like chihiro, while i think many can get a general grip on mikan’s personality, neither of you really open up and let people get into the... like, inner workings of your head. for example, mikan does hold anger towards her ab-sers, deep, deep down, of course. i’m sure that she’d never admit it, and feels borderline ashamed of these feelings. in fact, she only admits it whenever she’s... literally inflicted with a disorder meant to cause her despair/unhappiness. i don’t know you personally, or anything, but i wouldn’t be surprised if there are people you hold resentment for. i also think that maybe with your timidity and apology streak, you would never voice this anger out loud. um, i don’t want to assume though!!! so if that’s wrong,, disregard it,, i don’t want you to have a worse perception of yourself ,,, um, i don’t think she exactly uses humor to cope? but a lot of her... um, offerings as apologies, can be seen as humorous. if your sense of humour is... strange. and i think that she can also enjoy being alone, even if she does like attention- whenever the spotlight is on her i think she wouldn’t know what to do, and she’s probably more comfortable whenever there aren’t expectations being placed on her. i think that she can prefer animals over people... to an extent. plenty of them would remind her of the bullying she faced, yes. but i think that there’s a lot of comfort in just... something small being there by your side. dogs have been described as a very forgiving animal(though they don’t exactly have the emotional capabilities to forgive in the way we define forgiving... still.), and i think that she’d like that. she also might be good at taking care of animals, as part of her nursing knowledge. plus, it’s a small detail, but in the anime she references jurrasic park in response to nekomaru’s enormous shouting. lastly, mikan is noted to apologise very excessively. while she’s not exactly told to stop apologising, she can be a little exasperating to even her more polite/patient classmates, like mahiru and hajime.

minor matchups time! from danganronpa, you also remind me strongly of makoto naegi, monomi/usami, and seiko kimura, as well as somewhat of tsumugi shirogane, chiaki nanami, and gonta gokuhara! from mystic messenger, you also remind me somewhat of jaehee kang. from other sources, you remind me strongly of fluttershy from my little pony, as well as strongly of macarona from the grey garden, and dolphi from watgbs! from 1bitheart, you also remind me strongly of rocca rion and haruya nasuki, and somewhat of kotora yatano. from bang dream, you also remind me of shirokane rinko. from alice mare, you remind me of chelsy and allen. lastly, from pokemon reborn, you also remind me strongly of shelly citra!

hope this was helpful anon!! i didn’t really get to finish yoosung’s route,, so my description of yoosung is based off of a transcript and the wiki, mostly ;; it may not be too accurate, so please remember that you know best!!! thank you very much for requesting!!

#danganronpa kin #mystic messenger kin #mysmes kin #kin matchup #dr kin #yall remember when i thought it was funny when my kin matchups would hit 1k words #yeah. shoutout to this one for being over 2k #ask #request finished #anon

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lordsister · 6 years ago

Text

Quieter For You (Present Mic x Shy!Reader)

Reader's Quirk: Heightened Senses (user's five basic senses are five times that of normal humans)

Note: Reader is a teacher a U.A.

A glimpse of a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye and it was all Hizashi could do not to burst into song, choosing to fidget excitedly instead which earned him a weird look from Aizawa sitting next to him. "(Y/n)!" he called, trying to keep his volume to a minimum in fear of spooking you.

You jumped regardless, wide (e/c) eyes snapping up to meet his. "A-Ah, Yamada! S-Sorry, I didn't..." you trailed off, your gaze dancing away from his for a few seconds before you shook your head and met his eyes once more. "Sorry, how have you been?"

"Me? I've been okay, but I'm great now that you're here!" He didn't miss the adorable blush on your cheeks and the small bashful smile that appeared on your lips, marking it as a personal victory no matter how small.

Pulling out the seat next to him, the blonde gave it a pat, inviting you to sit down. "Don't be a stranger! Join us! I haven't seen enough of you lately!"

"O-Oh? Is that so? I'm sorry if I've offended you in any way!" you hurriedly apologized, approaching the table where the two men sat.

"Huh? Uh, no, no need to apologize! That's not what I meant. I was just trying to say that I like seeing you," Hizashi clarified, his smiling green gaze remaining on you despite the slight blush that pinkened his cheeks.

"I see..." you murmured, looking at your feet as you shuffled them absentmindedly. "I'm glad then."

Hizashi's grin grew impossibly wider. "So?"

Your head snapped up again. "So?" you repeated, blinking.

"So?" Aizawa chimed in, staring at his coworkers judgingly as he slurped from his apple sauce packet. To be honest, both you and Hizashi had forgotten he was there. Hizashi ignored him.

"Come sit with us! Tell us how you've been lately!" the blonde insisted, gesturing to the chair he'd pulled out for you a moment before.

An apologetic expression made its way onto your face and you held your hands before you placatingly. "Sorry, I'd love to, but I just came in here to get a quick cup of coffee before tackling the stack of papers I still have to grade." Hizashi couldn't help the disappointed noise that rose in his throat, sending you walking back a few steps from the table. "Maybe some other time?" you offered nervously before darting out of the teachers' lounge, your original goal apparently abandoned.

Hizashi collapsed on the table, letting out a depressed sigh. "And she's gone."

Aizawa sucked harshly at his apple sauce packet, trying to get the last bit stuck in the spout while giving Hizashi an unimpressed look.

"What? What's the look for?"

"...It's nothing."

"Tell me!" Shooting up, Hizashi grabbed the other man by the shoulders, shaking him back and forth.

"Fine!" Extricating himself from the eccentric blonde's grasp with a glare, Aizawa answered, "Give it up already! Considering how loud you are and how quiet she is, the two of you just don't fit together. You're only scaring her."

"What?!" the other male screeched, at full volume once more. "No way am I going to give up on (y/n)! True, I might scare her a little bit," he said as an aside, "but that just now was progress, wasn't it?!"

Aizawa winced at Hizashi's shrill volume, giving him another glare. "That. That's why you should give it up. You can't be quiet for five minutes. How do you think she can handle being around you?"

"That's mean," Hizashi grumbled, sitting back in his chair dejectedly.

Aizawa only shrugged. "Mean or not, it's the truth. Being around you must be downright painful for her sometimes." Hizashi didn't say anything, only dropped his gaze. His dark-haired friend sighed and stood. "Listen, I'm not saying a relationship between you two is impossible, but-"

"If I was quieter my chances with (y/n) would be better, right?"

"Right."

"Hmm..." The blonde stood abruptly, his gaze elsewhere as he thought. "I see." A strange smile appeared on his lips. "I see," he drawled again, making his friend raise a brow.

"Mic, what are you-"

"That's it!" He exclaimed and rushed from the room.

"Hey, you still have class to teach, idiot!" Aizawa called after him, but the blonde was long gone. "What's gotten into him now?"

All things considered, maybe he should have been more worried about his friend- it wasn't unlike the blonde to take things too far or blow things out of proportion- but he figured what's the worst that could happen?

Needless to say, something was off the next day. Really off. For one thing, it was too quiet, and Aizawa wasn't the only one who noticed the change. The moment you walked into U.A., a sense of wrongness raised the hairs on the back of your neck. It wasn't a dangerous sort of wrongness per se, but a feeling that everything wasn't as it was supposed to be.

When you usually walked into work, you were immediately greeted with an ecstatic "good morning!" from a certain blonde man. It always surprised you that Hizashi could be so energetic so early in the morning, and it was often slightly painful for you to be greeted in such a loud way, but it was pleasant none the less. His greetings never failed to somehow make your day just a little bit brighter. It was as if he was genuinely happy to see you.

Now, to walk in and find no such happy greeting awaiting you, it immediately sent a thrill of worry through your system. Had something happened?

Lost in the scenarios running through your mind, you failed to notice the familiar figure softly walking up behind you and a quiet voice say, "Good morning, (y/n)."

Was he in trouble? Did he need help?

"Good morning, (y/n)," said a little louder this time.

What if something really bad had happened? Should you go find Aizawa?

A hand touched your shoulder, making you jump, your attention returning to the present. Spinning around, you blinked wide eyes at...Hizashi? "Good morning, (y/n)." For a few heartbeats, you just stared. From his voice, you could tell the person before you was Hizashi, but everything about him was so at odds with what you knew about the blonde man, your brain was having a hard time processing it. Gone was the usual cockatiel-style hairdo, long blonde hair falling in waves down his shoulders. Gone was the eccentric clothing, replaced by torn jeans and a v-neck long sleeve. And, most surprising of all, gone was the loud volume. When he spoke to you, his volume was only a fraction of that with which he normally spoke. Was this really Hizashi?

"G-Good morning?" you stuttered, the response coming out as more of a question than a greeting. He only smiled at you- even his smile seemed a little quieter, if that was possible- and continued, asking you how you were, what your plans were for the day, to which you offered stunted, jumbled answers, still trying to make sense of what was happening.

You went through the day in a confused daze, your attention drifting every spare moment you had to Hizashi's new behavior, and by the end of the week you were downright worried. This new change wasn't necessarily bad, but it wasn't Hizashi at all and you didn't know how to act around this new version of him. It felt odd, unsettling to say the least, and you hoped the man in question's best friend had answers.

"Aizawa?" you prompted, catching him on his way out at the end of the week. The look on his face as he turned to you was a mix of surprise and annoyance, but you ignored it, mustering your courage. Now wasn't the time to let shyness get in the way of figuring out what was going on. Even now, it was taking everything in you to meet Aizawa's intimidating gaze. "Sorry to bother you, but...but do you have any idea about what's been going on with Yamada lately?"

The taller male stared down at you through tired eyes, quirking a brow. "No idea."

"O-Oh? He's been acting so odd lately, I just thought you would know why since you're his best friend and-"

"If you're so worried, why don't you just ask him instead?"

"Ask...Hizashi?" The idea had briefly crossed your mind, but you had discarded it, too bewildered by the blonde's ongoing strangeness. "But he's..." you averted your gaze to your feet. "I don't know about that."

"It has to do with you in the first place," Aizawa muttered with a roll of his eyes, continuing on his way and effectively ending the conversation.

"Wait...what?"

Your stomach turned as you walked up to U.A. on Monday, your eyes stinging from a weekend of little sleep, Aizawa's words lodged in your mind. If what he said was true, then there was nothing you could do except ask Hizashi what was going on with him yourself. Letting things continue as they were certainly wasn't an option.

It didn't take long for you to find him- most of the U.A. teachers hung out in the teachers' lounge before class started- but you didn't quite know what to say. You had been thinking it over all weekend and you couldn't think of anything without wondering whether you would come off as rude or prying.

Maybe...Maybe this was a bad idea. The way he was acting really wasn't any of your business, was it? No, it wasn't. Besides, what could you say? Just walk up to him and ask, "Why are you acting so weird?" Yeah, right. Like that would work.

Turning from the doorway of the teachers' lounge, you were nearly ready to completely abandon your original goal, but you froze mid-step. Down the hall, green eyes met yours and you noticed something you hadn't noticed before.

Had Hizashi's eyes always lit up like that when he saw you?

Something sparked and ignited in those green depths, a bright happiness and familiar excitement bringing his signature smile to his face. His mouth opened to call out to you. And then something changed. He seemed to realize something because he immediately reeled in his elation, his smile faltering and the sparkle in his eyes dimming just the slightest. His mouth snapped shut and opened again a moment later. "Good morning, (y/n)."

Your hands curled into fists at your sides and your brow furrowed. What were you thinking? There was no way you could leave things as they were now. "Yamada...Hizashi, what's been going on with you lately?" He blinked at both the question and the use of his first name. "I'm sorry if I sound like I'm prying, but..." you swallowed, doing your best to hold his gaze. "I'm worried about you."

Your voice was just above a whisper, but Hizashi heard it, his eyes widening and his mouth opening and closing a couple times before he managed to say, "I thought..." Running a hand over his face and through his hair, he muttered to himself, "Well, hell."

You tilted your head to the side a little as you watched him debate with himself over something. With a sigh, he finally met your gaze once more, a helpless look in his eyes. "I guess it can't be helped, eh?" If you weren't confused enough before, you simply didn't know what to expect now. "(Y/n)?"

You blinked. "Y-Yes?"

"I like you."

"I like you, too?" you answered uncertainly.

He chuckled. "No, (y/n). I like you."

For a few heartbeats you just stared at him, your brain refusing to register what you, up until now, had believed to be impossible. You shook your head, dropping your eyes. "I-I don't-"

"I'm in love with you, (y/n)." You started, jaw dropping as your eyes snapped to him once more. A gentle smile stretched his lips though his features reflected sadness.

"B-But then...why...?" You didn't know what to say, where to start with this new information.

"I've been acting differently lately because I thought you might like me more if I was quieter."

You were unable to respond, your mind desperately trying to reevaluate its perspectives and put pieces together in the span of seconds.

Hizashi took a deep breath, letting it out in a sharp whoosh as his shoulders drooped. "It's okay if you don't feel the same way." He turned, making a move to leave, his face turned away from yours. "I'm sorry if I've bothered you at all this past week."

You could barely hear him over the rushing in your ears, your body moving before you could fully process what you were doing. Grabbing his wrist, you looked at him through desperate, blurry eyes. "You changed yourself for me?" Your voice faltered, you swallowed, gasping for breath. "You were trying to be quieter for me?" He hummed affirmation and your jaw clenched. "Why?" you said, your voice raising in volume. "Why would you do that? I love you the way you are!" His eyes flew wide, but you didn't even notice the confession that had escaped your lips. "Why would you ever think that I would want you to change?! You're perfect the way you are!" An arm wrapped around you, drawing you into a warm chest as tears of frustration streamed down your face. "I'm the one who's the problem!" you said miserably. "I'm too shy and sensitive. You're so outgoing and social and I'm too introverted."

"(Y/n)..." A firm hand rubbed your back. "Don't say that about yourself. Too me, you're perfect," he murmured, echoing your previous words. "I wouldn't want you change the way you are for anything in the world. So...I understand that I went about things the wrong way."

"You think?" you muttered, sniffling a little.

"But!" he continued, "You love me?"

You froze in his grasp. Had you really said that? Yes. Yes, you had. For a second you thought about denying it, claiming that you meant it in a friendly way, but thinking back to Hizashi's own confession...

"Yes."

"Even though I'm really loud and being around me is painful for you?"

You hid your face in his shoulder, breathing in his scent. "Yes."

"(Y/n)?"

You turned just enough to peek at him from the corner of your eye. "Yes?"

His arms tightened around you in anticipation. "Say it again?"

You smiled. "I love you, Hizashi."

His overjoyed shout of "She loves me!!!" could be heard throughout the halls of U.A., and despite the fact that your ears were ringing for the rest of the day you honestly couldn't have been happier.

A/N: It’s been too long since I’ve had the time to write.T_T I do not own My Hero Academia or any of its characters. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this!^^

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yaachtynoboat711 · 6 years ago

Text

Our Next Guest...

A/N: Here’s my contribution to @hoopshoney and @purple-apricots With Love, From Wakanda fic fest! I’m so excited to temporarily break from Fonder’s angsty chains and coming with that present-day Yaa and Wins! I apologize for the tardiness of this fic, as I started my new job this week. I had to dust this off from the depths of my archives due to the time crunch. I was going to do my M’Baku x OC, but my time was limited.

Word Count: 2.4K

Warning(s): Fluff, Black Love

Prompt: “Have I mentioned how much I love you? Only twice in the past hour.”

“Chris, I’m fucking terrified.”,you huffed.

You were in your dressing room getting ready to finally begin your Sheimbloom press junket. The first stop was Jimmy Kimmel Live, one of your favorite talk shows. You’d been delaying the tour for personal reasons. Now, it was here and you were going alone. Winston was in the middle of a project in New York. Plus, it was Valentine’s Day. It sucked knowing that Winston couldn’t make it, however,it was worth knowing that he was being supportive and giving you advice on TV interviews. You’d had many a print interview, but never a TV interview.

“Baby, you’ll do fine. You’re a lawyer: you orate for a living. Plus, you love Jimmy, so this’ll be a breeze.”, Winston reassured via FaceTime.

“Yeah, you’re right...I guess.”

“You’re damn right I’m right. I can’t recall a time I was ever wrong. ”

“Well shit I can.”, you smirked, earning an annoyed huff and eye roll from your fiancé.

“ANYWAYS, are you going to indirectly promote Us?”

“Hasn't it already been promoted enough?”

“Now, what’s that supposed to mean,Yaa Denae?” One of the production assistants walked in at the perfect moment.

“Dr. Abdullah, we’re ready for you.”, the PA said.

“Well, won’t you look at the time! I love you, baby love!”,Yaa said in a hurry.

“I love you, too, Pumpkin. Gimme love.” The two of you did your secret handshake despite the distance and he hung up.

“K.D., you two are just too cute for words.”, your assistant Talia gushed as you handed her your phone.

You walked out of your dressing room along with Talia and your other assistant Jacqui to the backstage area.

When you got backstage, you found a mirror to check yourself out and posed for your OOTD post. Winston picked your outfit: simple black blouse with matching flared pants and a Tuskegee crimson and old gold striped ascot (your choice,of course). He even picked out the leopard pumps. That man had an eye for fashion. Your curly platinum locs were pulled neatly into a ponytail.

“Dr. Abdullah, you’re up in 60 seconds!”, you heard the PA announce. “Thank you!”, you replied. You took this time to recite your affirmation to yourself:

I am enough;I am here for a reason;I am here to slay; I am my ancestors’ wildest dreams!

Finally, you walked into the elevator as you heard the countdown and studio applause before hearing Jimmy’s introduction. “Welcome back! Our next guest is no stranger to shattering glass ceilings. In addition to graduating valedictorian of Yale Law School at the age of 23,yeah, twen-ty three, this past July, she became the youngest and the first Black woman to win the Richard T. Sheimbloom Award for Merit and Excellence in Law--the highest award for any lawyer in the world to receive. Please, help me welcome for the first time, Attorney Khalida Abdullah!”

The audience erupted into cheer, but not before the elevator door slid open to you doing that little Thotiana jig. You waved to the audience and gave them your brightest Miss Tuskegee smile. You strutted your way towards Jimmy and hugged him before sitting down. “Well...”, Jimmy began, “...happy Valentine’s Day and welcome to the show, Attorney Abdullah.” The audience continued their clapping and cheering.

“Thank you so much,Jimmy! Happy V-Day to you! Please call me K.D.. Can I just say that one, this is a dream come true to be on the show and two, I need to carry this audience in my pocket because they really--” they all screamed and you smiled as you glanced towards the audience once more, “--they really helped me overcome my nerves just now and this energy y’all are giving me is every damn thing to me.”

“Well, I’m happy that’s something that helped ease you. So let’s jump right on in: what made you want to become a lawyer?”

“You know, not a lot of people have asked me that question.”

Jimmy’s head bucked back in disbelief, “Really?”

“Yeah, so believe it or not, the OJ trial inspired me to go into law. I was about 5 years old and I see Johnnie Cochran, a Black man, and Marcia Clark, a woman, working the case. I guess I was trying to figure out why weren’t there any Black Women working this case. Even after the case, I didn’t meet a Black female lawyer until I was in college. Sometimes, you gotta be your own role model.” The audience applauded your answer.

“That’s something to really live by. Now fast-forward to this past July: what’s going through your mind before and after hearing your name called for the Sheimbloom?”

“Maaaaan, I was a complete wreck and a tad tipsy from the wine they put on the table. I had my umi and Winston’s hands in vise grips. For clarification, Winston Duke, y’know…”,you looked dead into camera 1, “...THICC DADDY M’Baku? Anyways, everything’s going in slow motion, so my reaction was about 10 seconds slower than what it should’ve been. Now, the Chairman didn’t actually announce my name per se.”

Jimmy and the audience laughed. “So...are you the 2018 Sheimbloom winner or not?”, he joked. “Jimmy, listen! Winston, along with some of his fellow Jabari actors, started barking like they did in the Warrior Falls scene? It wasn’t until Winston let go of my hand and literally took his scarf to bark did I realize I’d won.” The audience cheered as a picture of your raw reaction to winning appeared on the screen behind you. Your red eyes were bugged out, mouth ajar, both hands placed on your chest. That feeling of victory began tingling throughout your body all over again .

“How’s life after winning?”

“To be honest…I don’t really feel that much different. I worked that Monday after the ceremony and up until the middle of August because my partners essentially forced me on leave and sent me to L.A.”

“Why would they do that?” The audience laughed. You did too.

“Honey, I had been working like a madwoman from October up until they put me on leave.”

“Ah-a. So that leads me to the next question: what happened that night?” You smirked.

“Well, after giving my speech, I got whisked upstairs to take pictures with my award.” The screen behind you showed a picture of you holding your award up to your ear like a cell phone with one hand and showing off your rose gold slugs by pulling on your bottom lip with the other. You were squatting down and showing off your red sparkly pump.

“That’s one of the most epic pictures I’ve ever seen. What happened next?” The audience gassed you up with “Ow’s! and whistles..

“Wellllllllllllllll”, your toothy smile should have been the indication that it was about to go down, “I sneak away to the terrace for a breather because God knew I needed it. I’m out there and my Winston texts me asking me where I had gone, right? Long story short, he proposed. Afterwards, socialized for a little bit, and then Wins and I went to our favorite 24-hour diner like nothing even happened that night. So, that’s another reason I was out here in L.A.: he still lives here and we needed time to begin planning the wedding.” The audience went crazy with applause.

“So how’s the planning coming,”

“Uhh...it’s proving to be harder than we initially estimated. We don’t live together—he’s here in LA and I’m in DC. So with that being said, we can’t just meet at a central location at lunch and talk about flowers and what not. He’s big money now with his ever-filling schedule and I’m doing the damn thing too so we can’t just break. We try to reserve a weekend every month to devote our time and energy to planning. The few times we’ve actually come together, progress was def made.”

“One more question before the break: when’s the wedding date?”

You looked at him with your usual “Really, nigga?” face. “C’mon, Jimmy. I can’t just disclose something personal like that. We don’t want our special day to be a media circus. But the only thing I will say is that it’s in 2020.”, you teased.

“We’ll be back after the break.” The audience applauded until the director yelled “Cut!”

—————

“And we’re back! I’m here on this Valentine’s Day with the incomparable Khalida Abdullah, attorney and activist. Now earlier, you mentioned that your fiancé is none other than actor Winston Duke, who’s been on this show before.”, Jimmy explained. The ladies in the audience swooned.

“That’s correct! He’s currently doing press for his upcoming movie Us. Y’all should hit it up next month.”, you responded, trying to conceal the goofy smile forming.

“So one thing I failed to mention before the break was that you two are gracing the cover of Essence Magazine’s Black Love issue.”, Jimmy announced. The audience cheered. He propped the advance copy up that showed you and Winston posed together and serving faces.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, is it difficult being in a relationship with a man of growing international status?”

“Well, damn. I never even thought about that. Ummmm...no. If anything, our relationship is growing stronger. Life after Black Panther has, in a sense, caused us to strengthen our communication. I believe that our mutual communication is our greatest asset. We literally text each other our daily schedules and we have each other’s events and event reminders in other’s phones. We’re very transparent with one another.”

“So you don’t get jealous with other ladies throwing their panties at Winston?”

You shot Jimmy an unimpressed look. “Why get jealous when he’s in mine all the time?”, you said unphased, shrugging your shoulders, crossing your legs and drinking from your mug. The audience hooted and hollered.

"Welll, here's an Instagram picture of the two of you. Not quite like we just discussed but very cute. Does he get tired of the graduations and celebrations you drag him to? You taking his shine?"

A picture of you two came on the screen. It was the Instagram picture the two of you took at your graduation dinner this past spring. In your beautiful red off-shoulder African dress and doctoral cap and he in his khaki seersucker and unbuttoned white dress shirt, the two of you jokingly did the “prom pose” and he was kissing your neck. Your signature smile and red lip were on full display as you were mid-laugh. The audience awed as they felt the warmth and love you two shared in that moment.

“Nahhh...in his mind, he sees us as equally yoked. Whatever hustle I have, be it a speaking engagement, an award, or anything, he’s cheering me on 125%, and the same goes for me. So with anything in our lives, you’ll see one go all the way for the other. Metaphorically, no one has a bigger head between us.”

“But in the literal sense?”

“Oh, it’s definitely his ass.” Everyone including yourself burst out laughing. “Plus, it doesn’t hurt that we’re good arm candy for each other for events. I mean, look at us!”, you said enthusiastically as you pointed at the picture.

“Well, one more thing before we go: what’s on the agenda for Valentine’s Day?”, Jimmy inquired. You carefully thought about your answer. The thought of being away from your Teddy Bear on Valentine’s Day sucked ass.

“Well, unfortunately, he’s on his way to New York to tend to some business. Buuuut, in a perfect world, I’d be rushing to finish this interview and get ready to go out on a date or stay in, get into our pajamas, and watch Forensic Files all night long.”

“Well, once again, happy Valentine’s Day and congratulations on everything you’ve accomplished. Khalida Abdullah, everybody.”, Jimmy concluded. The audience stood up and cheered as you and Jimmy chatted it up until yhe break.

“Annnnd cut! Great job, Khalida!”, the producer yelled over the PA system.

“Not bad for your first interview.”, Jimmy complimented. You thanked him for the opportunity and were escorted backstage.

Jacqui was the first of your staff to welcome you backstage. “K.D. (you hated formalities with your staff), that was amazing! It’s crazy to think that you were terrified right before this and now look at you: mastered it like it was nothin’!”, she said as she hugged you deeply. You’d thanked her and you started walking back to your dressing room.

“I just wished that Wins could’ve been here, y’know?”, you whispered loud enough so Jacqui could hear. You opened the door and it hit something heavy, the door’s impact sounded as though the victim may have been a person. Your face scrunched in curiosity and your native New Orleans kicked in for this very moment. “Bitch, who the fuck?!”, you yelled. You stepped back to make sure you were going to the right dressing room. Yup, this is my dressing room. You slowly opened opened the door again.

Your confused expression remained on your face as you heard Ed Sheeran’s Perfect playing softly. The lights were dimmed just enough that you could see Winston standing in the middle of the room looking the fuck good as usual. You ran to him, tightly hugging his torso. He took in the sweet scent of your loc oil and perfume and kissed the top of your locs. He could feel your chubby cheeks complimenting your candy apple red smile.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Pumpkin.”, he whispered.

“You raggedy as fuck. Just want you to know that. I love you though. ”, you clapped back.

“I love you, too, but hoooooow?!”, Winston looked down into your teary light brown eyes. “New York, Winston? Really?”, you answered.

“Denver, Khalida? Really?, he shot back.

Silence. “Touché.”

Your staff recorded the entire exchange. Praise the ancestors for them. You looked over to the counter to see a large bouquet of your rose trifecta and Tropical Skittles, your personal favorite candy. Your favorite snack was sporting a burgundy suit with a tan turtleneck.

“Now, I was in a crunch trying to get here, but I figured you’d appreciate the Tropical Skittles over the originals, even though Skittles are your favorite regardless.”, he explained. You shook your head as you heard his explanation.

“God, I love you, Winston.” He kissed your fivehead before giving your lips the same attention.

“I love you even more, Pumpkin.”

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?”, you asked.

“Only twice in the past hour. ”, he teased. “Now come on—it’s half-past 4 and we need to get ready for the night ahead of us.”

“Welp, there goes that Forensic Files binge-a-thon I bragged about.”

Tag Listiana 🤷🏽‍♀️

@muse-of-mbaku @kumkaniudaku @eriknutinthispoosy-deactivated2 @whoramilaje @mbakusthrone @mbakuwife @crushed-pink-petals @hoopshoney @purple-apricots @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @jackburtonsays @randomwordprompts @bartierbakarimobisson @wakandan-flowerz @blackpantherreblogs @babygirlofwakanda @eerythingisshaka @washyourlinens @turn-thy-paige @doublesidedscoobysnacks @supersizemeplz @wakandas-vibranium @dramaqueenamby @oshasimone @destinio1 @sonofnjobu @teheeboo @sarahboseman @iamrheaspeaks @chaneajoyyy @lovelynervouschaos @cay-cah @coonflix @katasstrophey @mareethequeen @jozigrrl @great-neckpectations @jellybean531 @yofavcocoa @storibambino @maya-leche @blackgirloneshots @royallyprincesslilly @texasbama @certifiednatural @abeautifulmindexposed

#withlovefromwakanda #dukeandthedoctor #winston duke x oc #winston x yaa

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nerddface · 7 years ago

Text

Revursus Est

Characters: Thranduil Oropherion, female!elven!reader, the Mirkwood Trash Squad

Warnings: Angst. Maybe badly-written angst.

Word Count: 4391 ahahaha I went way overboard

Notes: I am fully versed in Elven customs/life cycle (more like Arda-Mandos-with-hopefully-a-lot-more-Arda-than-Mandos cycle), trust me.

That being said, this work ignores ALL OF IT.

I LOVE THE ELVENKING AND I WANT HIM TO LOVE BACK.

Alternatively titled: Molly did some more linguistic stapling.

As always, full translations at the end, in the order in which they appear. And boy, are there a shit ton in this one. Fair warning. Nothing brings me more joy than characters speaking in their native language when surrounded by people who share it and have no real reason to be speaking in anything else (other than for reader comprehension, of course, but I only torture you guys because I love you).

Based off of this (or these) (x)

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Sometimes it was not war, or foreign relations, or the life-or-death decisions that Thranduil had to face as King that were the most challenging aspects of ruling. Sometimes, the thing that made him grit his teeth and spit fire was dealing with the people whom he ruled.

Y/N had been in his walls for nearly five hundred years, now, nearly as long as his son had been walking, and in his bed for half that time. He didn’t expect her to be so-- she had come as an advisor, and at the time he had every intent to keep her as nothing more. But somehow, through quietly shared sunrises and sunsets, her gentle confidence and wisdom had slowly driven a cork into the gaping hole his late wife had left in his heart. She had a certain spark of curiosity and independence that he had seldom seen in creatures her age, and it intrigued him endlessly.

Her spark was also the problem. It was as if one Y/N simply up and abandoned her body when she sat down at the war table, and another, bolder, fiery Y/N took her place. This Y/N had a tendency to speak further than she had agency, occasionally testing his authority and pushing the boundaries of her own.

He didn’t mean to snap so harshly at her, but a hundred different things had been plaguing his mind for days, and his patience had been worn to silken strands. When Y/N spoke up as she usually did, objecting his proposition for tighter control on trade relations, white-hot fire flared in his chest. Usually he responded to her with a short, dull comment to put her gently back in her place, but today he could not grind down his tongue.

For a moment, he regretted speaking. Any other man would be angry, would storm away and curse his name.

Y/N’s form of anger was different. She didn’t cry, she didn’t shout, she didn’t cast a glare across a room when they shared a glance. If one were unfortunate enough to be present when something upset her, there was no more than a spark of anger in her eyes before her face fell into an unsettling stoicism and her life continued almost as if nothing had ever happened. She was icily civil to her opponent, and absolutely nothing more.

“Gohenanin, âr nín,” she had said, only hinting at her scathed feelings, and was silent for most of the remainder of the council.

When her time was over, and matters moved to areas not in her jurisdiction, she excused herself, and stood to leave. He couldn’t stop her-- this was when she would typically depart, and he couldn’t keep her without disrupting the flow of the conversation and blatantly play favorite. He dismissed her as usual, and offered a standard, gentle farewell.

Her eyes held only a tepid kind of look for him now, one she reserved for imposing strangers as she returned it smoothly. He wanted to stop this damned meeting and apologize, to take her into his arms until her stiff shoulders loosened and she quieted, until she understood he loved her.

He had no choice but her watch her go, gliding across the catwalks from him, ripping a distance between them.

Y/N had had it. Proving her worth and maintaining her place on the Elvenking’s war council was difficult enough, and she had very little patience for comments that came from Thranduil’s mouth.

But if there was anything her parents had taught her, it was to never let her anger show. She glided through the cavernous halls of the palace with no one the wiser to her swirling emotions, and slipped quietly out a side entrance between guard rotations, so as not to alert anyone to her absence. She was almost caught by Eredhon passing the wine cellar, but a short word revealed he was slightly buzzed, as per usual, and he would likely forget he saw her in the coming hours.

The forest was always calming to her. She used to venture into the hills back home, in Imladris, for hours, listening to the trees whisper and the animals chatter to one another. The Greenwood wasn't home, the trees were broader-reaching and leafy as opposed to mountain pine, but forests all had a sense of peace, no matter where they were. Y/N was devastated to have seen this one sicken over the last century, the bright leaves and young wood weeping and shattering, leaving her with a creeping feeling of dread instead of calming. The illness seemed to weaken its grip around the river, up to the very north of the Rhrovanion, and she made her way there now, fuming more the further she got from the palace and others.

She didn't realize it was getting dark until a cool breeze prickled her skin, and a rustling in the brush in the near distance turned her blood cold. She didn’t bring a weapon with her, thinking she wouldn’t be gone long. But as the noise drew nearer, and louder, her bravery chilled into fear, and her mind abandoned all semblance of confidence.

It was stupid to have left like this. Maiar, why did her pride have to get the best of her? If she was wounded by one of the forest’s creatures, she’d never hear the end of it. Hell, Thranduil probably wouldn’t let her leave the palace unattended again.

The rustle was incredibly close, now, and in the distance her keen ears picked up the voices of the evening guard. She took a step forward, feeling relieved that she was safe, until it was slaughtered by a broad hand covering her mouth. Another held a razor-sharp blade to her neck, tight enough to draw a thin line of blood.

“Struggle and I will slit your throat.” the deep voice of the man at her back threatened, and she stiffened. He dragged her back into the thick brush, forcing her to the ground, his hands still in place at her face and throat.

The patrol grew slightly closer, and she could see a familiar flash of flaxen hair.

Thranduil’s voice rang out over the forest. “Tiria di il toss, il gond, il sîr, adel il galadh! Fara dad i ungol! Deid’ecces!”

She struggled and cried out, but her captor’s hands held tighter, keeping her still and muffled. The blade pressed harder. “I won't warn you again.”

She caught the light auburn hair of Meludir, one of the forest guard, flanked by his brother, followed by Leuthil and Orithil, and led by Eredhon. Merenon searched the trees just to her left, his eyes passing right over her, still with fear. Eredhon called his attention, and in the distance, Feren called the group back, to head further down the slightly-hidden side path she usually took.

Tears welled in her eyes. They were so close.

But their footfalls faded, and the loud, crisp baritone of her lover’s voice turned to a muffled sound, leaving her with only her own breath and the breath of her captor.

When he was sure the elves had gone, and were well out of earshot in the opposite direction, he hauled her up, gripping her forearms hard enough to leave bruises. He seemed to know where he was going, and within a few minutes, she could see the glow of a fire in the distance.

Suddenly, a broad blade flashed from the darkness, stopping both of them in their tracks and holding her throat in place. She blinked at the large man that stepped from the shadows, glaring first at her captor, then at her. His hair caught the beams of moonlight coming in patches through the canopy and held them fastly; beautiful, if she weren’t currently at the wrong end of his sword and being kidnapped.

“What the hell is this?!” his voice rumbled deep, his words nearly coming out a growl.

“Found her running from the King and his patrol, Boss.”

‘Boss’ studied her through narrowed eyes, and the camp was silent for a moment as he lowered his sword. “She wasn’t really running, was she.”

It sounded like more of a question directed towards her than anything else. She didn’t give an answer, but it seemed her silence was just as telling, as his eyes flickered over her clavicle, and her clothing. His eyes sharpened as he looked back up at her captor behind her.

“Did you not see what she’s wearing? That necklace? The King would have your head or worse if he’d have found you. Hell, if he finds you now, we’re all done for.”

Her captor’s hands tensed, tightening her bonds with the movement. “I thought, Boss, that we--”

“Whatever you thought,” Boss snapped, “was idiotic. There’s no chance of ransom with a pet like this, not before we have silver shoved down our throats. Let her go and they’ll find us before we can get out of the forest.”

“Better to kill her?” the voice at her ear asked. Her heart skipped a beat, and tears fell anew.

“No.” He didn’t give a reason.

“Are you sure, Boss? Because I--”

“I said no.”

That was the end of the matter, apparently.

Y/N didn’t hold back her tears as she spoke, hoping they would help to convince them to release her. “No one will know what happened, I-I promise.”

Boss shook his head. “No. Thranduil will get his answer one way or another. I don’t want to take that chance.” He turned his gaze to the man who still held her wrists. “Your mistake will cost you. She stays with us. We’ll find a use for her. Pack up. We’re leaving.”

Despair made Y/N’s throat close, her heart fell to her soles, and she dropped her head. She knew the Elvenking wouldn’t leave for weeks on end to search for her, even if he desperately wanted to-- his kingdom needed running, and he wasn’t a foolish man. Besides, he probably thought she had been so angry with him that she left for good of her own will.

Both of them knew her captors would never return to Mirkwood; it was too close, and any patrols that they encountered would recognize her, without a doubt.

It’s in her best bet, she decided, to be on her best behavior, to understand these men. The more they trusted her, the more freedoms they would grant her, and the more opportunity she would have to escape. The shackle and chain that they attached to her ankle to keep her close to camp put a wrench in her plans, but it hurt her pride more than anything else.

Osmond was the leader, 'Boss'-- a large, scarred man with dark eyes and few words. His hair was indeed snowy white, despite his relatively young face, and he kept it tied back at the base of his skull. His face and shoulders were scarred heavily, looking like life had tossed him around a little too roughly. He regarded her with what she might call sympathy, sometimes, when no one else was around.

Lorn, the one who had captured her, was just as broad as Osmond in stature. He was hot-headed, impulsive, and cared little about what anyone else thought. He seemed to rein himself in just as far as Osmond’s patience went, considering he was “the boss,” but that was as far as his self-control went. Times when the boss wasn’t around typically ended up being painful. He never hurt her far enough to slow them down, and he always got a solid blow from Osmond upon his return, but he never took the punishment too seriously, and she dreaded times when the snow-haired leader departed camp.

Landen and Adger she was introduced to later that night. They were twins, gangly things, with long blond hair and sparse beards. They enjoyed toying with her, little things that made her life slightly more uncomfortable. Thankfully, they were the scouts of the group, of sorts, and were away for most of the day.

None of them spoke to her in length, for whatever their own reasons. Though she was around people, her days were lonely. They fed her enough to keep her going, and re-clothed her in something suited more for the road, and much less flashy than her evening gown, which was sure to have gotten her noticed. Osmond kept the garment-- selling it would garner attention to where he might have gotten it, and he was not one to take risks to possible connections.

Osmond did find a purpose for her, and she made good use of her navigational skills-- as it turned out, though the group had brains and brawn, they were piss-poor mapmakers, and their maps were always leading them wrong. Y/N had grown up a nomad in her family’s hunting party, so she knew how to work the land, and how to mark it on paper. She just hoped it would remain useful and keep her alive long enough for her to figure out how to escape.

She was sitting one evening, sketching out another portion of the forest around them, when Lorn turned from the fire and disappeared into the tree line, leaving his dagger in easy reach on the log. Though it felt like that dagger was plunging itself into her chest, she didn’t touch it. They were testing her.

Lorn returned a few minutes later to see both Y/N and his weapon exactly where they had been when he departed. He spared her a glance and sheathed it as he sat down. Behind her, there was the slight rustle of a tent flap falling back into place.

The next morning, she woke to the clattering of her leash. She jerked upright, ready to stand, but Osmond was fiddling with the opposite end, not even glancing up at her as she started.

After a couple of moments, he stood, holding the extra feet in links he had lengthened her chain with. “Better chance to get some sleep. Can’t have you slowing us down.” Then he returned to his morning tasks, disregarding her entirely as he always did.

A couple months later, she was trudging along behind Landen and Adger, feeling entirely discouraged. Osmond wasn’t stupid enough to give her full freedom- he knew she could wait out just as long as he could. She hadn’t the slightest on how she would escape, or lead someone to her that would recognize her and help. Her eyes drifted over the thick trees on either side of the path, and frowned at a couple that looked like they had been scraped at, and noted to perhaps mention to Osmond that a large buck had probably made them, and may still be living in the territory.

Adger laughed loudly, drawing her attention, and she noticed Osmond turn left at an approaching fork in the road. She frowned harder. Something seemed familiar.

Wait. She recognized this route. This was the same road Thranduil took on his annual journey to the recently reclaimed Erebor as a trade emissary. She had only accompanied him once, last season, but Noroth was molting around the time of their trip, and his antlers made those broad gouges in the trees where he scratched them.

Her brain started working in overdrive. If she could pocket a stone sharp enough, she could probably manage to carve something into the soft, young bark over the wood Noroth had exposed. Maidh, “fawn”, was one of the many pet names Thranduil had given her, and by far one of his favorites .Her lover was sure to notice it, if she could indeed do what she hoped she could, and he may find reason enough to begin his search again. The group stayed close enough to the road that she could reach a tree within sight of the path.

Hope surged through her veins. It was nearing the time Thranduil would depart, and if Osmond kept this close to the path and following it, she may have a chance.

Thus, each day, while the camp was in rest, or most of the group was hunting for supper, she snuck away, and carved a name into the trees, leaving a trail. Her leash was typically just long enough, and if she was steady with her feet, the chain didn’t rattle suspiciously. As the weeks passed and she carved more, she began to feel hope once more.

That is, until one afternoon.

She was carving into the trunk, almost finished, when heavy footfalls approached her from behind. She knew them immediately as Lorn, and turned to see him studying her work with a menacing kind of curiosity. Surely he knew what she was doing; he was a brute, but he wasn’t brainless.

“You’ve been leading them to us,” he growled. “This is the last time it will happen. I knew it was foolish to trust you. Your trail ends here.”

She took a step back from the tree, her blood running cold. She was so close. If the party followed like she hoped, they’d find her within the week. “W-won’t the boss be angry?”

He sneered. “I don’t care.” Metal sung in the air as he drew his broadsword, and she scrambled back in an attempt to distance herself, but the brace and chain around her ankle tugged suddenly, and she fell to her back.

Lorn lifted his sword, intent to kill her, and she screwed her eyes shut. Always that close. Hopefully Thranduil had moved on by now, so when he found her dead, it wouldn’t be too hard.

But the blow never came. The man squealed, instead, and fell back, and she barely caught a flash of white and silver as she ducked her head in fear.

A thin sword came to her throat, guiding her chin up, and what her eyes met almost made her heart stop.

Thranduil looked worn. His cheeks were hollowed and his normally bright skin was dull. His moonlight hair fell flat on his shoulders. His gaze was hard, but there was a different note to it, an iciness, perhaps not as noticeable to just anyone, but she wasn’t just anyone. His shoulders were just as broad and squared and regally held as always, but… he seemed wilted. She couldn’t believe how tired he looked, after just a year.

It seemed like he was just as shocked as she was, and in a moment, his weapon fell to the dirt. His blue eyes glossed like she’d never seen before, and he just about collapsed to his knees before her. His pale fingers reached out to her face, slowly and unsteadily, as if she were mist that would dissipate if he moved too quickly.

Y/N blinked, and tears fell down her cheeks. Thranduil brushed them away softly, almost reverently, and traced the backs of his fingers across her cheekbone.

“Gilgalad’en,” he murmured. “Your symbols... This is… real?”

“I hope so,” she breathed. “Because I might just die if it isn’t.”

He took a lock of hair in his free hand, his thumb smoothing over the familiar texture. He looked at her a moment longer, then lunged forward, enveloping her in his arms with a fervor that brought sobs to her throat.

“I never stopped looking,” he whimpered. “Never.”

She cried into his chest, thankful beyond belief that he was really here. A broad hand braced the back of her neck, and the heavy scent from his thick cloak enveloped her. He soothed her under his breath, speaking words she only half understood.

“Odulen an edraith angin, maidh. Gohenanin, an ngell nîn. Gi melin, gilgalad’en. Av-'osto.” Maidh stood out in the hum of comfort that blanketed her ears, and it solidified the concept that she was finally safe.

“Hîr vuin?” one of the guards who had accompanied the Elvenking stepped forward. “Boe’m an dadwen. Anglenna’dû.”

Thranduil peeled himself reluctantly away from her, and looked down to her ankle when her movement rattled the metal.

“What have they done to you?” he growled, looking up.

“Feren!” he barked, and the captain stepped forward. “Break this.” He gestured to the brace at her ankle. Y/N watched his face meanwhile, feeling as though he would vanish if she looked away.

He looked back to her, and his face softened. He took her face gently in his palms and pressed a long-awaited kiss to the corner of her mouth. Her tears had yet to cease, and his silken fingers dried her cheeks as Feren and Merenon pried at the padlock. After a moment. it snapped open with a sharp clang.

“Tolo ar nin,” Thranduil beckoned, moving to stand. Her legs were unsteady, but she managed to put weight on them. They took less than half a dozen steps toward the treeline before her lover bent at the waist, lifted one of her arms around his shoulders, and swept a strong arm under her knees to lift her to his chest.

“Os man an adanath?” Feren asked reservedly.

“Togti ah men,” Thranduil returned, his voice flat, without looking back.

At the tree line was Noroth and the half a dozen castle guard’s mounts. Thranduil lifted Y/N easily into his elk’s saddle, and turned to his guard captain, who was leading Osmond and the twins. She didn’t meet their gaze.

“Anim innas nor’núf. Rethci di Eredhon. Tirith-deid eithro. Boe enni glennalim.”

“Hîr vuin,” Feren protested. “Alpol lav de glenna ero. Leuthil ah Orithil innas men’di.”

Thranduil nodded. “Anmae.” He swung into Noroth’s saddle behind Y/N, his chest pressed firmly to her back, and called for Leuthil and Orithil to mount and follow.

“Ava sen,” he commanded Feren, before turning and spurring his mount into a swift gallop.

The ride back to the palace took not an hour, and almost before she had even been lowered to the ground was Thranduil barking for her to be attended. The King only let her out of his sight as she was tended to for a moment, and dismissed the gathered maids to lead her to her prepared bath.

He didn't pry her for answers as his hands massaged floral soaps into her skin, reserved and gentle as he had no idea what state her mind was in. Truth be told, she wasn’t quite sure, either. A large part of her was relieved, blessed that she had been returned to her home without lasting harm. A smaller part worried, strangely, for the trio that remained. Valar knew Thranduil would have no semblance of mercy. And part of her yet felt they had no right to continue their lives painlessly after they interrupted hers. She tried to ignore the war that raged in her chest.

Thranduil provided welcome distraction when he beckoned her to stand, and wrapped her in a soft, velvety robe.

He sat her at the large vanity in their quarters-- his quarters, really, but hers had been all but abandoned in the last century, and picked up a brush, sweeping her hair over her shoulders.

She was silent as he smoothed the tangles from her tresses, and watched him pick up another bottle of oil to nourish the ends that had become flayed over the last year. He caught glance after glance of her face, but never spoke, waiting for her to let him in. When she couldn’t hold back the single question that had been prodding at her tongue since she was brought back into the palace walls, she opened her mouth and spoke.

“Why did you keep looking?”

This made him pause. “Why do you ask, melethril?”

She knit her brow and took a moment to answer, his hands stilled in her hair. “Perhaps... because... I am not...” she couldn’t quite get the words out right, and toyed with her fingers as Thranduil pulled out the second stool and took a seat to look at her.

“I don’t know.” And honestly, she didn’t. She had thought of a hundred different reasons why he would stop. His gaze told her to carry on, and she heaved a teary sigh. “Because there was so much to lose by expending the kingdom’s resources searching for something you would never find, because spending time away from rest or food hurts you, because I am not your wife and some days I couldn’t think of a reason why you would want me to return--”

Her words caught in her throat, choked by breath that was coming too quickly. Her vision wavered with emotion and fresh tears, and the King took her into his arms for what felt like the thousandth time that day, smelling sweet of lavender and roses.

“Y/N, my darling,” he hummed, his heart thudding in his chest. “You are not her. But I would never wish you to be, for that would erase every aspect that only you hold, and I fell in love with. I never gave up because I knew you were not so easily held. If you loved me as much as I believed- as much as I do believe- you would find your way back to me.” he took a short breath. “Perhaps you have not noticed it, mallos, but I am not the only one in this kingdom who is glad to see you home. I was not the only one whom your absence pained, nor am I the only one who put forth an effort to see you return. Though, I must say, no one suffered as acutely as I, nîdh, for I could not live without the very breath in my lungs.”

It was a wonder Y/N hadn’t drowned in her tears, and there would be plenty more to come.

They would be tears of pain, of sorrow, of fear, over the coming weeks, and tears of joy in the following year, when Thranduil asked for her hand in marriage. She would tremble, that night in his arms, in years, when she worried for the fate of Arda when Sauron rose again from the ashes of his rule, and when she brought her husband’s daughter into the reclaimed Middle Earth. There would be many sleepless nights, for better or for worse, but Thranduil had let her go once, and there was nothing that could make it happen again.

She was home.

Full sentences:

-Tiria di il toss, il gond, il sîr, adel il galadh! Fara dad i ungol! Deid’ecces! (Look under every bush, every rock, every stream, behind every tree! Hunt down the spiders! Find her!)

-Odulen an edraith angin, maidh. Gohenanin, an ngell nîn. Gi melin, gilgalad’en. Av-'osto. (I’m here to save you, fawn. Forgive me, please. I love you, my starlight. Do not fear.)

-Boe’m an dadwen. Anglenna’dû. (We need to return. Nightfall approaches)

-Anim innas nor’núf. Rethci di Eredhon. Tirith-deid eithro. Boe enni glennalim. (I ride ahead. Eredhon remains with you. His guard also. I must travel swiftly.)

-Hîr vuin. Alpol lav de glenna ero. Leuthil ah Orithil innas men’di. (My lord, I cannot allow you to travel alone. Leuthil and Orithil will accompany you.)

Individual words:

Gohenanin (forgive me)

Âr nín (my King)

Gilgalad’en (my starlight)

Odulen an edraith angin (I came for saving for [familiar] you)

An ngell nîn (please [lit. for my joy])

Maidh (fawn, pale)

Av-’osto (do not fear)

Gi melin (I love [familiar] you)

Hîr vuin (beloved lord)

Boe’m (it is necessary for us)

An (for)

dadwen (return)

Tolo ar nin (come with me)

Os man an adanath (what of the men)

Togti ah men (bring them with us)

Anmae (very well)

Ava sen (do not allow them to escape [loosely] [also sen is quenya shhhhh])

Melethril (lover [feminine])

Mallos (flower of gold)

Nîdh (honeycomb)

#thranduil x reader #thranduil #party king

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aliceinthewritingrepublic · 7 years ago

Text

The Spiral on the Edge - V

Story Title: The Spiral on the Edge

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki/Reader

Rating: MA

Story Tag: tsote

When you see an attractive stranger while partying, you decide that it has been too long since you’ve had an adventure. The exact terms of your loose liaison are soon put to the test.

Word Count: 4524

When consciousness slowly returned you to this plane of reality, you were unsure whether you had been asleep or unconscious. While you could not remember dreaming, you had a distinct feeling of time having passed, which spoke for the former. Opening your eyes was a chore, but you could already feel your heartbeat speeding up at the uncertainty of where you were going to find yourself.

The familiar ingrain wallpaper on the barely illuminated ceiling coupled with the barely-there weight of the thin blanket covering you brought knowledge of your present location. You were… home. Frantically, you tried to remember how you got here, coming up with nothing but the not-quite-quantifiable feeling that you were missing memories that would explain everything.

Your related attempt to sit up proved more difficult than expected as pain consumed the left side of your head. All in all, it was a little as if there were an invisible weight trying to keep you in a lying position. You felt so, so worn.

“[Name]?” You knew that voice, despite its unusually meek quality. What was Katsuki doing here? He had no business being here, in this place, where there were countless reminders of all the parts of your life you kept separate from him, where there were blister packs in various states of fullness lying on the nightstand, where there –

Thinking hurt.

There was a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back down onto the mattress. You let yourself be pulled, putting up no resistance and closing your eyes again. You felt all kinds of wrong, and trying to keep your eyes open was not helping.

“You’re home. You’re safe.” If you had been able to properly get your thoughts in order, perhaps you would have questioned how unlike him those words were, but thinking was becoming harder by the instant.

For now, your body helped itself to the rest it desperately needed. Already, you were falling back asleep.

This time around, you dreamed vividly, as if your mind were trying to make up for its period of inaction. The meaning of the shapes and colors in your head was already beginning to fade the second you woke up once more.

You felt like half a person again, which was more than could have been said of you earlier.

Still, you were quite weak as you opened your eyes properly. You were in your own bed, but not alone, which was an anomaly of great proportions. Next to your head, sitting against the headboard with crossed legs, was Katsuki. His head was leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, mouth slightly open. His breathing was quiet and even.

How the fuck had it ever come to this? This was not what you had wanted, at all. Now he had taken a step behind the veil you had so carefully crafted, and that was irreversible. You had a strong premonition that this was going to mean the end of whatever the two of you were.

You slowly untangled yourself from your blanket, that small amount of movement already exhausting you to no end. But you needed to use the bathroom. Placing one shaky foot on the floor, you were almost up when a cramp shot through your calf. Through pure instinct, you pulled your leg back up onto the bed, pressing the heel of your hand against the quivering muscle to alleviate the pain and make this stop.

Katsuki groaned, awoken by the sounds of your pain.

Already, there was a hand on your shoulder again, distracting you from the slowly fading pain and making you turn your head to him. Your gaze was still a little unfocused, but you could still make out the blankness of his expression. You had never seen him expressionless. It almost made you shiver.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice as devoid of assessable emotion as his mien.

“Kind of,” you tested your voice. Your tongue was too dry and too heavy for your mouth. “Not really. Maybe?” Speaking was harder than thinking, but both were possible again at this point. “Was I…” You swallowed, but it did nothing to make your mouth feel less like a desert. “…awake before? Or did I dream that?”

“For about a minute. Remember anything else?”

You searched your brain, trying to get everything that had become jumbled back into order. (Not an easy feat, considering your mind might best be likened to an M. C. Escher painting, even on the best of days. Today was a particularly bad day.)

“I remember being outside. Then dancing.” You also remembered leaving your drink unsupervised like an idiot, but did not want to put the words out there. You were able to reprehend yourself well enough without saying it out loud. “I think I hit my head?” Reaching up, you could feel a bump near your crest. Touching it stung, making you pull air through your clenched teeth. “But nothing else,” you finished your incomplete retelling of last night’s events.

“You were really fucked up all of a sudden. You fell into a wall at the club. I caught you before you fell again, but I used too much force.” There was still no change in his disturbingly calm tone as he pointed to your right upper arm. You followed the indicated path with your eyes and found bruises that clearly resembled fingers there. Lifting your left hand and putting the pads your fingers on the marks, you silently remarked that he did have big hands.

He had not apologized, but it was implied.

When you said nothing, he kept chronologizing the timeline of what had happened. “You couldn’t fucking walk, and you almost couldn’t fucking talk, so I got you out of there. I was gonna take you to my place, but you kept saying ‘home’ like a broken record.” He paused. You pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and resting your chin on top. It was anything from unsettling to downright wrong to be told about things you had experienced without being able to form any coherent memory of them, even now. “I got the address from your ID.”

Your carefully crafted front had been a house of cards, and it had crumbled without you there to maintain it. It was difficult to decide whether to be more upset about this or about the fact that someone had apparently thought you passable enough a victim to spike your drink. Both made you feel incredibly powerless.

“I think someone drugged me.” The words had escaped you before you had had a chance to reconsider them. You did not appreciate the emotional tone your voice had taken on, did not like to be forced into such vulnerability.

Thankfully, your body was willing to remind you that you had a good excuse to flee the scene for just a moment. Once more, you moved to get up, more successful this time, though you were still shaky on your legs. You put one hand against the wall for support as you had to concentrate hard to set one foot in front of the other.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Katsuki asked, his choice of words – as per usual – not a good indicator of whether he was actually angry or not. At some point, he had stood up and was now hovering behind you.

“Bathroom.” You were not so much being curt as you were simply too exhausted to form longer sentences. “I’d like to piss on my own, though.” You were already combusting internally from the embarrassment of having been dependent on him. Anything more, and you would die of shame.

His exasperation was tangible. “Keep the door unlocked, idiot. If you’re not back in ten, I’m coming to get you, and I don’t give a fuck whether you’ve got your pants down or not.”

While going about your business, you held your head in your hands, trying to make sense of everything. Already, you were thinking you had been too abrasive towards him just now. He was always blunt and vulgar, and you knew perfectly well that he was not trying to talk down to you. If anything, he was probably unsettled by last night’s events, maybe even worried. (You hated it when people worried about you. It was even worse to imagine him of all people worrying about you. But he had no way of knowing that.)

You washed your hands and wiped your face with a wet cloth, ridding your skin of the crudest share of ruined make-up. After that, you drank about one liter of cold water straight from the tap. Then, you used some mouthwash, the imagined exertion of using a toothbrush already too much in your current state. Without your allotted ten minutes having passed, you stepped back into the main room of your small apartment.

“Hey,” you said and then paused for a moment because you had caught yourself wanting to call him by a nickname, but all that had come to mind was lover, which was way too intimate to say aloud. You sat down on the side of your bed and habitually reached for your phone, which was exactly where it was supposed to be – plugged into the charger next to your bed. No new messages, a fact you were thankful for right then.

“Thanks for charging my phone.” That was not what you had been wanting to say, but you meant it. “And thank you for getting me home safe.” That was what you had been wanting to say, and you also meant it.

While you began your google search, he answered to only your latter declaration of gratitude. “What the hell was I supposed to do, fuck off and leave you there?”

You were unsure whether he could see your bitter smile from his position. “That’s probably what whoever drugged me was hoping for.”

“But why go for a woman who obviously isn’t alone?”

Discussing the precise parameters of the attempted assault on you made you feel uneasy and very empty inside. “Who the fuck knows. Maybe they thought that you didn’t actually know me, and if I were out of it, you’d leave me there. Or maybe they just thought I seemed easy.”

“I’m gonna find and murder that fucker. And don’t even start with that ‘blaming yourself’ bullshit. You’re not easy.”

“I am, and you should know that better than anyone.” You were headed for a fight, you realized. And despite your head still not feeling quite right, you welcomed it. You preferred a quick and painful ending to a slow fadeout any day.

“Bullshit. Fuck that. And stop telling me I know shit. I know fuck-all about you. I had to check your ID for your address and last name, for fuck’s sake. And we’ve been fucking for seven months! Also, what the fuck are you doing?” He was referring to you still typing on your phone. “At least look at me while we’re talking!”

Since the end had now officially begun, you felt little inclination to keep information confidential anymore. “I’m looking up the most common types of roofies and trying to find out whether there’s a risk of adverse interaction with my antipsychotics.”

He did not know how to properly react to that information, if his silence was any indication.

“Fuck it,” you continued rather than to wait for him to think of something to say. “It’s not like I’m not gonna take my meds.” You’d been there before, and you were not keen on a replay of that spectacle, regardless of whether you were risking adverse effects or not.

One (surprisingly small) yellow pill later, you finally settled in properly next to him, back against the headboard.

“Look, Katsuki. When I went home with you for the first time, I assumed that it’d be a one-time thing. And then, when it wasn’t, I still thought that that… spark, or whatever, between us would eventually flicker out, and that we’d grow bored and stop seeing each other. I wasn’t planning on you becoming a fucking seven-month-stand.”

He made a sound then that was parts snicker and parts derision. Still, he shuffled closer, until his upper arm was pressed against your own. His skin seemed cold, but yours was colder. Fair enough, you thought, before continuing.

“And I don’t really like sharing anything about myself, because, to be frank, I’m not in the greatest place right now. I’m way better than I used to be, but not… good. And since we weren’t together or anything, it was easy to reason with myself that I didn’t need to tell you anything about me. And to be fair, you never really asked.”

He interrupted you then. “Yeah, because I got the message pretty fucking early that I wasn’t supposed to ask. I may be kind of an asshole, but I’m not unobservant enough to miss that you never fucking talk about yourself.” He was annoyed, and he had a right to be.

“I’m not accusing you. I was glad you never asked, because that made it easier for me.” You considered for a moment how to best put it into words he would understand. It was not as easy as it could have been, your general exhaustion blurring into the drowsiness from your medication. “It’s like… there’s all of this bullshit, and it’s not that far below the surface once you disturb the waters. It goes from ‘Hey, I’m [Name], I’m twenty-four,’ to ‘So what do you do for a living?’ to ‘I’m in university,’ to ‘What do you study?’ to ‘Human Quirk Biology,’ to ‘What semester are you in?’ to ‘I’m on a break right now,’ to ‘Why?’ to ‘Oh, I went kind of crazy and spent a while in a mental hospital and now I’m trying to get back on my feet,’ really quickly.”

You paused, giving him time to let that settle.

Against all of your expectations, he put his arm around you. You did not miss the fact that he placed his hand near your elbow rather than further up on your arm, avoiding the bruises from last night.

“You know,” he said, “I knew you were older than me, but I wasn’t expecting five damn years.”

His reply was so out there, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. For a moment there, you had forgotten how much you enjoyed being around him. This also reminded you that less than a day ago, you had been having the time of your life, getting the daylights fucked out of you in a bathroom stall. There must have been a fissure in time with how long ago that felt.

“That’s what you’re focusing on? Not the ‘I’ve been getting it on with a schizo’ part?”

“No, dumbass, I just don’t know what the fuck to say to that. So, does that mean you’re schizophrenic?”

“Schizoaffective. Not sure whether that information gives you something to work with or not.”

He just scoffed, squeezing you to his side. You understood the hint and moved on to explain. “Basically, I go through these manic episodes. They start out pretty nice, I’ll be in a great mood – downright ecstatic – for a while, and all is well. And then I start making all of these plans, and, at first, they’re realistic – maybe after I get my bachelor’s degree, I’ll go for a master’s. And then, they aren’t. Like, screw the master’s, Imma get a doctorate! And on the side, I’ll write a series of novels that will be great and everyone’s gonna read them and know my name! And then, it goes downhill fast. I don’t need sleep because I’m not like normal people! Also, things that hurt others can’t hurt me, because I’m superhuman! And that’s about the time it switches from manic to psychotic. I’m superhuman, but things aren’t working out the way I wanted them to, why is that? It’s because someone out there is scared of what I could do with my powers, and they’re pulling strings to keep me down. It has to be someone close to me, because they somehow know where I am and what I’m doing at all times. What if they implanted me with some kind of device and then erased my memory of it? Hasn’t the back of my neck been itchy for a few days now?”

You paused to catch your breath, because you had been ranting. Then, you decided you might as well go all out to emphasize the gravity of your condition. Maybe that way, he would not feel as bad about leaving when he did.

Reaching up, you lifted your hair from the back of your neck to the side. “That scar? It’s from when I tried to cut out a nonexistent chip with a pocket knife.”

That was when a shiver went through him, strongly enough for you to feel it. “That’s some fucked-up shit,” he pressed through his teeth. Still, he did not actually recoil from you, opting instead to hold onto you tighter.

You knew it was a crass thing to share, but you needed him to understand that your disorder was not some romanticizeable gimmick that bestowed temerity upon you. It was not a thing that would ever pass. It was a life sentence.

“I’m sorry for being graphic. I wish there were prettier words for it. But it was really bad. I was twenty-two at the time. They took me to a hospital, and after a while on medication, I got a lot better. Good enough to return to life as planned, as long as I was taking the antipsychotics. So that’s what I did. But I was taking a different drug then, and I had pretty bad side effects. I was tired basically twenty-four/seven. I felt like someone had wrapped me in bubble-wrap, and everything was dull and muffled. Oh, and guess what?”

“What,” he stated and did not guess.

“You know how I have a pretty big sex drive?”

“You tell me,” he deadpanned, motioning for you to keep talking.

“Well, I lost all of that too. And I wasn’t able to orgasm, no matter what I did.” You kind of wanted to wait for his reaction to that information, but decided that he deserved all of the story, which required you to get on with it. “So, I went off my meds, because everything sucked, and I told myself that my first episode had probably been a one-time thing, because – isn’t there a statistic that one in three people goes crazy at some point in their lives or something? That was about a year ago. Well, guess what, that was a bullshit idea, and I ended up relapsing. It wasn’t quite as bad as the first time, probably because I was admitted to a clinic pretty early on this time around. I started a new type of medication that doesn’t cause me tons of side effects. Been on it ever since.”

Perhaps, to put all of this into perspective, you could end the whole story on a more positive note, it occurred to you. “I’m going back to university once the new semester starts in a few weeks, too. So, I’m not… in as bad a place as I used to be, I guess.”

He made a quiet noise deep in his throat to signal that he realized you were done with your tale.

You felt like you had been talking for hours, although it had more realistically only been ten minutes. Your perception of time was genuinely crooked, and you were unsure whether it was a residuum of whatever had been given to you last night or simply a side effect of this situation that you had been entirely unprepared for.

“So,” he began eventually, the arm he had had around you all this time slowly sliding from around your shoulders. You tried your best to prepare yourself for the rejection that was sure to come. “You never told me about your disorder because, what? You thought I’d tell you to fuck off?”

“Well,” you answered and got up, having trouble looking him in the eye. This was getting dangerously close to the terrain of your feelings for him, a matter you would strongly prefer to leave untouched.

Slowly, and trying not to move your head too much, you took off the leggings and shirt you were still wearing from last night. You even still had your bra on. You appreciated the fact that Katsuki had not undressed you. You felt violated enough in your physical integrity as it was. (You did not mind him seeing you naked, as evidenced by the fact that you were changing in front of him without a second thought right now. But the idea of not being conscious while someone handled you was too unsettling for words.)

“Basically, I figure there’s not a lot of different ways to react to that kind of information. Either you think I’m making it up for attention, or you think it’s creepy, or you think you can save me. One isn’t true, one kind of is, I guess, and the last one’s impossible because it’s not a temporary or conditional thing. But yeah, I kinda assumed that either way, it’d end up with us parting ways, because you shouldn’t have to deal with my mental illness. It’s not like you’re my boyfriend.”

You took off your bra and then pulled on a fresh black top and a pair of plaid pajama bottoms. Looking attractive was not a priority at this point.

“Oh, fuck that, [Name].” You could actually hear him in- and exhaling, the strain of trying to contain himself obviously trying. “I get what you’re saying, but – shit, I’d really fucking appreciate it if you let me decide for myself what the hell I’m thinking or not?!”

He inarguably had a point. Of course it was unfair of you to preemptively ascribe to him one or several ways of thinking. But you had spent so much time considering and reconsidering all of these things in an attempt to avoid unnecessary pain whenever the inevitable rejection came – it was difficult to break out of this circular thought structure now.

He had more to say. “Obviously I’m not your fucking boyfriend. I barely actually know anything about you, we’ve been over this, damn it. And I still don’t fucking get it. I can know all the ways you like to be fucked, I can know that being talked down to during sex gets you off, but I can’t know anything else about you? Not even your fucking last name? And why, because I’m not your stupid boyfriend?”

“I just…” You sat on the bed again, legs crossed, facing him. It would have been easier not to look at him while admitting this, but you could not not look at him now. “I didn’t want to overshare. And it’s easier to say nothing at all than to avoid one specific topic, especially when pretty much any other topic is related to it somehow. I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to never see you again.” And, simply because you were already sorely vulnerable at this point and opening yourself further could not do anymore harm, “Am I never gonna see you again?”

This was what scared you. Once more, time seemed to bend and crumble and rise from the ashes in all kinds of unnatural ways until he answered.

He shook his head, still not having moved from his position at the head of your bed. “Shit, woman, you’re barely to stand up straight. You fucking took your medication without knowing whether it’ll interact with what’s still in you from last night. Do you honestly, for even a fucking second, think that I’m about to leave you alone? In that case, you’re way dumber than you seem.”

His one-sided smirk was only partially able to hide the sheer exhaustion on his face, the furrow between his brows deeper than you had ever seen it. Apparently, he was staying.

“And now, lie the fuck back down before you fall against anymore walls.” It was clearly an order, and one you did not mind following.

The rest of the day would feel just as surreal as everything else that had occurred so far.

You caught a few more hours of sleep, divided into several smaller naps. Katsuki never left your side, like a dog guarding you from anything that might aim to do further harm to you.

(Never mind the fact that all that could harm you now were chemicals already inside your body, and… well, your stupid head. Your stupid head, that was already trying to twist last night’s most likely coincidental attack into the idea that someone was trying to harm you individually. But that made no sense. You were able distance yourself from that train of thought well enough, and that was an important realization that calmed you, at least a little bit.)

Appalled by the jarring lack of proper food in your refrigerator, he ended up ordering pizza for the both of you. You ate while streaming the newest season of your favorite animated show on your old, but faithful laptop. Katsuki had never seen it, but complained about it less than he could have.

Already, he seemed to feel more at home at your place than you had done for the first half of a year you had lived here. And you felt more at home with him here.

Lying next to him, head on his chest while fully dressed was a new, but not unpleasant experience. You had had it all twisted, you thought. Was it not more normal to be surprised by how someone’s bare skin felt after only knowing them clothed? Now, it was your turn to be stunned by how intimate it felt to be close him in a situation that was clearly non-sexual. Even his hand under the back of your top, just resting there, felt right. It seemed he simply enjoyed the feeling of your bare skin, be it the leadup to something more basal or not.

The most important development, however, was the agreement he and you found regarding your future. The two of you would simply keep going the way you had been up until so far – but you were not to censor yourself anymore. That way, he would have a chance to finally know you in all the ways he did not, or did not yet. And wherever that would lead you both, it would probably be okay.

“Just so you know, I reserve the right to tell you to fuck off once I know you better.”

You laughed out loud, nuzzling his cheek before kissing him, softly, for the briefest of moments. “You do that. I need a boyfriend like I need a hole in my head.”

If mutual exclusivity was what defined the relationship between two people, you already had a boyfriend in him. But to argue definitions at this point would be to get ahead of yourselves.

#tsote #rating:ma #fandom:bnha #bnha #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #mha imagine #mha imagines #mha reader insert #bnha imagine #bnha imagines #bnha reader insert #reader insert #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader

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another-jjba-headcannon-blog · 7 years ago

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hey, can I get uhh...headcanons for Jolyne, Okuyasu, and Giorno having an s/o who works in retail and after dealing with a costumer in their "retail voice" but instantly switches back once they see Jolyne and the rest? I hope this makes sense!

Headcannon machine 🅱roke it’ll be fixed shortly :v as in right now some retail headcanons coming right up

Jolyne-

- Jolyne is the kind of person to come and visit her s/o at work, she thinks it’s fun to surprise them with visits (even if she does it so much it’s not really a surprise anymore). She’ll catch them on their break and give them a kiss good luck or offer to take them out to lunch. Today, however, was a little different. S/o wasn’t at their normal spot near the back by the break room. Jolyne was slightly confused, it was twelve o’clock exactly, the time they got off for their lunch break. Not to mention, the other people who were normally back there were all sitting as per usual. So..where the hell did they go? Cue her quickly striding around the retail outlet to attempt and find s/o. She only barely manages to catch a glimpse of them dealing with a particularly difficult customer, she raises her hand to say hi before stopping and listening to the tone of voice s/o was using-

- Oh man, oh GOD, that wasn’t sincere in the slightest. And even though she knew it was rude to eavesdrop… Ah, screw it. She wanted to know what exactly was going down. She ducked behind a display of sweaters and listened intently to the conversation, trying to hush her loud snickering whenever their s/o feigned their chipper attitude.

“Online it said it had this sweater in purple-”“Yes, well, we only have it on the online store-”

“Are you sure? That’s just a darn shame…”“Yes, it is. I’m very sorry miss. Have nice day!!”

S/o sighs and looks at their watch, glancing in all directions as they see Jolyne rising from the display to greet s/o. Jolyne thinks it’s hilarious how fake their voice sounded, and is cackling from behind the sweater stand.. Normally they were a lot more passionate, there was a lot more emotion in their sincerely chipper voice.

- So when They gasp and yell “Jolyne!!” in their normal voice it spooks the daylights out of Jolyne. Talk about a switch! Her eyes widen in surprise, quietly mumbling “Oh my God-” and her fit of giggle laughter starts up again. Funny how insincere they can sound one moment and completely genuine the next. She places a kiss on their cheek and asks them how their day was, and what the hell was up with that voice. After a few minutes of conversation the old lady comes back.

“Are you sure this isn’t in stock?”s/o switches back to the voice instantaneously. “Im positive, but I’ll let you know once they are back! My apologies for the inconvenience, miss. Have a good day!”The kind lady gives a wave of her hand and a nice smile and walks away. Jolyne side eyes her s/o and snickers, and imitates their tone. “Have a good day!” s/o lightly punches her shoulder in response.

“Remind me never to work in retail, babe.”

Okuyasu-

- Okuyasu was just perusing the aisles with a shopping bag, he probably needed to head to the store and remembered as soon as he got into the checkout line that his s/o worked there. He hops quickly out of line and starts strolling along the aisles looking for them. He’s buying a new pair of socks and maybe, just maybe he can get a discount since s/o works here, that’d be pretty cool. But most importantly he really wants to surprise them at work, that’d be pretty cute to see them in their uniform. Soon, he finally spots them across the t-shirt aisle fixing up a horribly disheveled display and begins to call out their name before stopping quickly, seeing as a woman with two small kids were making their way over to their disheveled display. Oh, maybe now wasn’t the best time-

- “Welcome!! How may I help you?” He hears them say in a generic sing song tone, almost the same way they greet people on the street. He can’t really tell that they’re using a different tone of voice, and he assumes that they’ve just been being incredibly sincere this whole time. But the more he listens in on them the more something seems really…well, more like incredibly off about it.

Are they sick? Feeling down? What’s up with them? He leans up against against a rack of sweaters and nonchalantly attempts to listen in as to what they’re saying. The Customer, who Okuyasu presumed to be a mom judging by her kids in tow, is asking about their toy selection in the back, to which s/o as “cheerily” as possible points them in the direction of, as they resume to tending to the mangled display. Once the mother leaves, Okuyasu notices their conversation ended and quietly approaches s/o, preparing to sneak up and spook them, any thought of their previous encounter completely erased from his mind.

- Okuyasu tightly hugs s/o from behind and twirls them in the air and hears their sonorous laugh, which never fails to bring a smile to his face, man he really loved that laugh! wait a moment- what was that-

S/o suddenly sounded WAY different. Like, WAAAAAY different than before. How did he not notice it??

Okuyasu’s eyes widened as he looked down at s/o’s smiley face with his eyebrows knit in confusion. He wasn’t upset or anything but SOMETHING WAS OFF-

“Babe are you sick-”“Am I what-?”

“DO YOU NEED A DOCTOR? A HUG? DID YOU HAVE A BAD DAY YOU CAN TELL ME ABOUT IT BABE I SWEAR I’LL LISTEN TO YA-”

He’s now noticed the difference in how s/o talks to him versus how they speak to customers, and tells them about the difference in their voice. Cue s/o chuckling lightly and having to explain it was just them trying to sound sincere on the job. He doesn’t really get it, and hopes they’re never going to use that voice on him.

Giorno-

- Being the Don of the world’s top gang in the Italian mafia was no easy task, and hardly left Giorno with any free time whatsoever. There was a lot to do, you know. Stop anyone from destroying the gang from the inside, stopping the previous Don’s infamously large drug cartel, keep Mista from doing anything too stupid, etcetera etcetera. However, he was always sure to keep his s/o far, far away from whatever mafia related business he had. It was a dangerous thing, and he didn’t want them getting hurt. They had a good life and a normal job, and he wanted to keep it as good, normal and happy as possible. He made it a daily routine of his to visit s/o at work and bring them out to lunch, it was a formality he always took pride in doing, since it kept s/o smiling whenever they visited that sandwich shop down the street. (It wasn’t that good of a shop in all honesty but to made them happy so whatever, right?) Aside from literally everything about them being perfect, Giorno especially loved their constant chipper can-do attitude really brightened his day. So when he visits s/o at work, preparing to take their side down to their usual place, he was perplexed as to why they were still at the checkout and not in the back clocking out.

- Giorno halts by the door and peers around the store. They were probably still on the clock, ah, well. Couldn’t hurt to admire them from afar for a few minutes while they worked would it? He slumped against the side of the wall and smiled at their hard work. It was nice to see s/o really putting effort into somethi-

“Welcome!! Is this all for you today??”

His eyebrows knit up in confusion. Was that s/o? Was that them? It didn’t sound like them…Well, it kinda did, but it wasn’t their usual voice. He decided to wait until the man at the checkout line had left, so he could further investigate. It probably was them, but just to be on the safe side.

- Giorno approached the checkout counter and smiled sweetly. “Good afternoon, bella!” He said as casually as possible. Their eyes lit up almost immediately and their smile grew ten times larger.

“Giorno!! How are you?” Giorno’s eyes widened, he had heard about people sounding different when dealing with customers, he had sometimes used a deeper tone of voice when dealing with others to try and seem older than he was.

But wow, that was different. Once he saw them take their card and clock out, he took their arm and escorted them out of their workplace. He wondered how often people thought that’s what s/o actually sounded like, they had fake sincerity down pat, their real voice was much nicer than that.

—

aaa sorry for the long wait!! I hope these aren’t terrible ;-;

#Diamond is Unbreakable #Okuyasu Nijimura #Stone Ocean #Jolyne Kujo #Vento Aureo #Giorno Giovanna #if these are shitty gomennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn #i had a hard time writing this but i think they turned out pretty alright??

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theforgottensheikah · 7 years ago

Text

Prompt #1

@nickywolf1‘s prompt of Vaun having a tea party with a little girl Rae adopted.

Vaun walked the polished floors of the Olympian, red eyes ticking left and right, in search of his Bonded.

The dhampir wished to discuss a matter with Rae, but was unable to locate her with the vast rooms within that the club offered. His flesh brow wrinkled in puzzlement. This was a rather strange occurrence since merging with Quinlan’s group of humans, she was far easier to find as they were in a small fold of three at least.

A slight build of panic thrummed in his heart as he could not find his mortal love with each passing apartment.

Quintus, Augustine, and Fet were missing, probable reason that they were scouting. Velders, per usual, sat hunched over in her chair, fingers madly tapping away at the tiny keys in front of the screen. Both of the doctors were standing before a board covered from top to bottom in black formulas and other writings. And of course, the professor was ever diligent with deciphering the Occido Lumen.

Rae was the only odd absence in the picture. She normally secluded herself from people and he had checked her spots, but every one was empty of her presence. The young Born was stumped and growing more and more anxious with each step.

‘Calm,’ He urged himself, approaching one last place he could check.

It seemed most logical that she be there, as what was held behind this particular door had become dear to Rae over the course of time. At first, the group was torn on how to handle the ‘distraction’ Quinlan and the Professor labeled it. However, the argument eventually became null and void when Vaun was the final one to have any input.

His gloved hand curled around the brass knob and twisted. A light scent hit his nose quickly, one that filled the half-breed with uncertainty and mild dread.

“Vaun!” A bell like voice greeted him happily.

They had found a child, a little girl the age of six, cowering in the wall space of her turned family’s home. The strigoi had attempted to get at the young one, claws marks slashed with wild desperation into the wallpaper, but the blood hunger must’ve grown stronger; urging them to hunt and leave the Dear One for now. The family of four had been slain by Fet and Rae, the little one being discovered by the exterminator.

Her ringlets bounced as she raced over to him. Vaun allowed the collision of her body and arms wrapping around his knees to make him seem a bit more human. She had not been so keen to accepting he or Quinlan when they returned with her, especially him.

Vaun rattled with a frown, scenting that Rae had not been in the room for an hour at least.

His crimson eyes glanced down at the very short human. The decision on his part had upset more than the elder, Quinlan was not entirely thrilled with the fellow Born either. He expressed that Vaun would regret this however, the dhampir carefully laid a clawed hand on her black curls.

“Hello Dominique,”

The young Born did not have the heart to deny Rae a chance at what he felt like their union stole from her.

Dominique grinned widely up at him, the gap between her teeth in full view. “What’s up?”

“I am looking for Rae.” He was catching onto the phrases of this new generation quickly.

She stepped back from him, dark eyes trained on him. “Rae Rae left with Mr. Quinlan after lunch.”

“Ah,” Vaun didn't know what else to say.

Children were awkward beings to be around. He felt no compulsion to nurture or any other paternal instinct towards the little girl. The only urge the half-breed had was to protect Dominique for Rae’s sake. Maybe that would change if the pair grew closer over a length of time and forged a bond, but currently Vaun felt nothing for the girl.

He hadn’t the slightest inkling of what to do next besides turn around and leave.

Yet her gaze pinned him. Vaun saw something lurk in those dark brown eyes. He tilted his head to the side. “Do you require something?”

A nod and she said, “I’m thirsty. Could I have juice?”

Vaun froze. He didn’t think she’d actually ask for something! Dominique may have grown comfortable in his presence but she did not reach out more than necessary. The dhampir’s mind stuttered before replying. “Yes, I suppose.”

She smiled and reached to take Vaun’s hand, causing the muscles in his arm to tense. He didn’t want to hurt her, but the child held no fear of his unnatural strength. Her little fingers encircled his palm and she waited for him to lead.

Vaun rattled, nervous but returned down the path whence he came with her in tow. The noise of her sneakers squeaking against the smooth floor faded into the background as his mind constantly reminded him to ease his grip, don’t squeeze too hard; that he almost didn’t hear her voice. Dominique giggled at his dazed expression.

“You almost missed the kitchen, Vaun.”

The Born growled lowly. “I see.”

Dominique gasped when Vaun practically hauled her into the dining area, the Born nearly forgetting the very power his brain fretted over. Although, she didn’t seem too phased by it. Instead, she unclasped his hand and opened the steel fridge herself. She was an independent creature, very adamant about doing everything possible on her own.

A pout formed on her mouth as she struggled to reach the washed cup sitting on the counter. Vaun grinned faintly at the sight, reminding him of Rae’s shortness. He took the juice container and poured the liquid into the colourful cup.

“Thanks…” She mumbled, sipping it with annoyance.

Vaun churred. “You’ll grow, child.”

Dominique shrugged, having finished half the drink already. Vaun noticed her quirks with haste. A pout was immediate when something went wrong, no matter how insignificant. She wove a braid around her pointer finger while thinking. Also, when her ire was stirred, so was her appetite. Fet was impressed once after earning her wrath. She ate his entire aquired bag of strange orange puffs called ‘Cheetos’ in a single sitting.

Which earned Rae’s own displeasure at the devouring of junk, how she put it, before dinner.

The straw made the most aggravating sound that grated on Vaun’s sensitive ears. He cringed as she continued attempting to inhale every last drop. His shoulders pinched when she would not give up. The Born snatched the empty cup away and tossed it in the sink.

She frowned. “Hey!”

“You will not keep on with that noise. It hurts my ears.” He explained, crossing his arms.

Dominique vaguely understood and nodded, arms drooping. Another look like before was directed at him. Vaun sighed. “What do you want now?”

“I want to play.” She informed simply.

Vaun’s spine prickled. This was Rae’s area of expertise. He did not engage in playing.

“Dominique, Rae will surely return soon. Will you wai-” His words died as he could already tell this was not going to end well.

That furrow of her mouth already appeared. Vaun swallowed, stricken with aggravation and unease. He had no experience in taking care of little ones. He had vague knowledge of what activities they partook in but the Born didn't feel quite prepared for this.

He was faster than her, more adept at locating hidden persons, his body was created to be the ultimate predator. She couldn't outrun or hide from him. Quinlan did warn that young mortals took much patience and must be allowed some sense of possibility when confronted with them.

Vaun knew the Invicitus played such games with his own adopted child, Sura. If Quinlan could do it, then he could as well.

“Fine,” He conceded. “One time. What is it you wish to play?”

A happy grin spread over her dark face. “I want to have a tea party!”

Oh gods have mercy...

____________________

Vaun sat at the very small table, trying not to scowl. Dominique had insisted upon dressing up for the party. Now she did not have many toys, only a few Rae and Gus ventured back to obtain, so she improvised.

He was mildly calm being surrounded by Rae’s scent as he sat next to a large blue bear and and frog. She had used Rae’s scarf and draped one of her coats over his shoulders then donning her own items from her old flat. Vaun was not very amused with this turn of events but did so solely for the child’s amusement.

She hummed a tune Vaun did not recognize as she poured ‘tea’ into the plastic cup for him.

The dhampir frowned as she slid the cup filled with apple juice over for him to take. “I cannot drink this, Dominique.”

She let out a surprised gasp. “I forgot!” The child did not mind his refusal. “That’s okay! Blueberry can drink yours!”

He did not hesitate to gently shove that in front of the stuffed bear. Dominique chatted with the animals, including him from time to time. Apparently, she was a queen from another land and Blueberry and Mr. Ribbits were dukes. Vaun wondered silently as she spoke on in her own world, what his robbed childhood might have been.

Vaun’s ear twitched as he heard bloodbeats approach, snapping out of musings what did not matter. The door had been left cracked for Rae but two others noticed. Both were snickering, failing to stifle their amusement at his torture.

“I never thought I’d miss my phone dis badly!”

“Haha, right? I didn’t think V man had it in him.”

He darted over to the door and wrenched it wide open, resulting in Gus and Fet almost falling inside. Vaun glared. “If you believe blackmailing with this would help you in some way, you are very wrong.”

“Nah, Borno!” Fet tried to dissuade him. “See, I just thought Rae would like it recorded or somethin’!”

Gus nodded eagerly in agreeance. “That was the plan ese!”

“I doubt that.” He growled.

“Intruders!” Dominique shouted behind him. “Crashin’ my tea party!”

All three glanced at her. She had an evil smirk on her face. “Party crashers get punished.”

“Vat?” Fet asked, mildly afraid.

Needless to say, the group had a laugh when Vasiliy and Augustine were corralled into the tea party.

Sheikah: Not at all as long I wanted, I apologize. But I do hope you like it! @haineko16 your prompt shall be along within the next few days dear!

#prompts #vaun

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