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obeymeoasis · 3 years ago

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Demon Bros React: MC Gifts Them a Handmade Bracelet

Lucifer

“Luci, I made you something for fun but I’m not sure whether you’ll like it or not.”

He looked up from the stack of papers on his desk he was trying to get through. “As long as it’s not another bill like the one Mammon just racked up, I’m sure I’ll like whatever it is. Especially if it’s something you made.”

Blushing, you got up from your chair and quickly slipped the item onto Lucifer’s wrist.

He looked down to see a bracelet made out of elastic and chunky plastic beads. Among the red and black ones, the words “My Light” were spelled out.

“That’s just the way I feel about you sometimes. Whenever it seems like there’s nothing but darkness around me, you’re always there to guide me toward the light, toward better and happier times. You’ve saved me so many times.”

You looked at the bracelet on his wrist and suddenly felt self-conscious at how cheap it looked against the elegance of his RAD uniform. Lucifer seemed to be frozen in shock as well; he sat at his desk silent and unmoving.

“If...If you want I can take it back! Sorry, I just thought-”

Your sentence was interrupted by the full force of Lucifer crushing you into a hug. He tucked your head underneath his chin and he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“I love it. I love you. You make my every day brighter by being with me. I can’t express how much I care-” He cut himself off, feeling his throat tighten with sudden emotion.

You hugged him back just as tightly. “Love you always, my light.”

Mammon

You were cuddling together on the couch, watching a movie. Mammon had his arms around you, one hand holding yours and the other tracing patterns on your thigh.

With your free hand you reached into your pocket to pull out the bracelet you had made earlier in the day. Bright yellow smiley face beads surrounded the word "Priceless".

"What's that babe?"

"I made it for you! Sorry it's not super fancy or anything. But I saw these beads today at the craft store and they reminded me of you. You make me smile all the time because you're such a goober."

Mammon grinned and acted mock-offended. "Hey! Is that any way to treat your first man?"

You continued, "And also, you're priceless to me Mammon. You know that right? I wouldn't trade you for anything. Not even all the Grimm in the world. You make me feel so happy and loved."

You heard Mammon's sudden intake of breath. "Y-You really have no problem saying such embarrassing things, huh." His ears and cheeks were bright red.

You thought that was the end of the conversation but a few minutes later you heard Mammon whispering into your hair. "My treasure, I love ya so much. What did I ever do to deserve ya."

"You deserve to be happy Mammon, you deserve all the good in the world. Don’t let anyone ever tell you differently. I love you."

Leviathan

You were in his room, him playing a game and you putting the finishing touches on the bracelet you were making. Shiny blue beads with wave patterns on them surrounded the words “My Rock”.

Quietly, so you wouldn’t interrupt his game, you placed the finished bracelet on his desk and moved to sit back down in your chair. Suddenly, his arm shot out to grab your wrist. He had paused his game and slid his headset slightly aside to ask: “MC, what is this?”

“Oh, I finished making this for you. Y-You don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it! But... I just wanted to give you a small present.”

Hand still holding your wrist, Levi wordlessly picked up the bracelet and examined it in the light.

“Um... you know how my favorite animal is the otter? Well otters sometimes have a favorite rock that they keep in their pocket. And you’re my favorite, you know? Also you’re my rock because you keep me grounded a lot. Like when I get all anxious and stressed out you help calm me down. Whether it’s just cuddling or playing a game together, being with you is so peaceful.”

As you continued to ramble nervously, Levi’s cheeks began to grow redder and redder. “You really made this for me? This isn’t like a pity gift is it? Are you sure you want to give this to a-an otaku like me?”

You sighed and moved to wrap your arms around his neck. “Levi, you know I would never gift you something because I ‘pity you’. And also, I don’t understand what being an otaku has to do with anything. I’m giving you this because I love you, all parts of you.”

Levi looked at the bracelet for a moment longer before quickly slipping it onto his wrist. “I-I really like it. Thanks, MC.” He seemed to be gathering up his courage for something and letting out a deep breath he turned around to give you a quick kiss.

“S-Sorry! Sorry, I just... I’ve never received anything like this. I like you a lot, you know?”

You returned his kiss with one of your own. “I know.”

Satan

You had finished a light lunch together and now were browsing Satan’s favorite bookstore. He was looking at the history section while you were pretending to look at the bookmarks, gathering up your courage to give him his gift.

You were worried a bit that he wouldn’t like it. The bracelet itself was made out of inexpensive materials, emerald color beads and beads that spelled out “Beloved”. It didn’t seem like the type of thing Satan would wear.

He interrupted your thoughts with a tap on your shoulder. “Everything okay, MC?”

“Yeah, I was just...” With a sigh you held out the bracelet to him, there was really no point in stalling. “I made this for you. I understand if it’s not really your thing but just know the message is genuine.”

He pinched the bracelet between two fingers and began to examine it. "Beloved, huh?” His lips were quirked in a smug smile.

“Don’t tease me. But y-yeah, you’re my beloved. I never thought I’d meet someone like you here, you know? You feel like you fit right against my heart, like you’re my soulmate. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

All of the amusement was wiped off of Satan’s face and his eyes seemed to burn into you, the way he was staring at you. He deliberately rolled up the cuff of his RAD uniform slowly and made sure you were watching as he put on the bracelet, turning it this way and that to examine it.

“It’s a good thing you don’t have to think about that, pet. Because trust me when I say that I’m never going to leave you. You’re stuck with me forever.”

With a wet laugh you rushed to hug him, burying your face into his chest. “That doesn’t sound bad to me at all.”

Asmodeus

You were in Asmo’s room, helping him paint his nails. His left hand was already finished and you watched him blow on the nails, trying to dry them. He held out his other hand for you and you pretended to fiddle with the nail polish before quickly slipping on the bracelet you had made for him earlier.

“MC, what is this?” Asmo looked at the bracelet, soft pink heart-shaped crystals surrounded beads that spelled out “Jewel Of My Heart”.

“Well, I know it’s nothing much compared to the jewelry you already have” you said, nodding toward Asmo’s vanity which held a variety of sparkling necklaces and earrings. “But I wanted to give you something handmade.”

“Oh, it’s so cute darling! I love it!” Asmo pulled out his cellphone and started trying to take pictures of his wrist from different angles. “Can you help me, MC? My nails are still a bit wet and I don’t want to ruin them. But I also want to post a picture to Devilgram immediately!”

You chuckled and took Asmo’s phone from him, trying to move his wrist to get it in frame.

“I know you’re not the Jewel of the Heavens anymore. But I think of you as the jewel to my heart. You’re beautiful, Asmo. Not just the way you look but the way you’re able to find beauty in everything. Even in me, no matter how terrible I feel sometimes.”

Asmo had gone silent and you looked up to see him biting his lips, his eyes widened. “MC, that’s cheating. You can’t say things like that when I can’t even give you a proper hug right now. Ugh, you’re too adorable.”

Smiling, you held up his hand and pressed a gentle kiss against it. Asmo inhaled sharply.

“Darling, I think we can finish the other hand at a later time. Right now, there are other pressing matters I’d like to get to.” Asmo’s eyes had turned lustful and he quickly scooped you up and led you toward his bed.

Beelzebub

You were in the kitchen together, Beel helping you test a new pie recipe. Well, he was doing more eating than testing, letting out small whines until you gave in and fed him spoonfuls of fruit filling.

It was warm and peaceful, the smell of sugar and vanilla in the air as you mixed a pot on the stove and Beel leaned against the countertop.

“Oh Beel, before I forget.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out a bracelet made up of small orange beads and plastic teddy bear-shaped beads. In the middle were the words “My Strength”.

You helped him slide it on his wrist and smiled at his confused look. “I made this for you today. I saw these beads and thought instantly of you, ‘cause I always call you my giant teddy bear.” For emphasis you gave him a hug and laughed at how small you felt in his arms.

“And also, I think of you as my strength. You’re super strong, yeah, but not just physically. You’ve always been there for me, whenever I felt down or scared or sad. You give me strength when I need it most. And I hope that I can lend you some of my strength too for whenever you need it.”

As Beel looked down at the bracelet, a slow smile spread across his face. “You’re cute, MC. Thank you for the gift. And you make me stronger every day by just being with me. I hope we can be together forever.”

You reached up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek and he returned it with a sudden passionate one on your lips.

The two of you stood kissing for a few moments longer until you broke away from him, smelling burning sugar. “Oh god, the filling is burning! Quick, turn off the stove!”

Beel looked into the pot, which had turned from a deep red cherry color to almost black, and shrugged. “Eh, I’ll still eat it.”

Belphegor

You don’t know how long you had been napping for, but you woke up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You were warm and comfortable, one of Belphie’s legs wrapped around your own and his arm across your stomach.

Looking down at his wrist you realized it was the perfect opportunity and slipped the bracelet out from your pajama pocket. The square lilac-colored beads looked cute against his wrist and you made sure the words “My Comfort” were facing the right way up so that Belphie would spot them when he woke up.

You thought it would have been easy to give him his gift undetected, considering how much of a deep-sleeper he was, but at your movement Belphie scrunched up his nose and slowly opened his eyes.

“MC?” His voice was bleary from sleep. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing babe, go back to sleep.” He nodded and turned to face the other way but must have felt the beads pressing into his wrist. Confused he lifted his arm up and squinted at the bracelet. “What is this?”

You sighed, a bit nervous at how he would react. “I made it for you. It’s nothing fancy but I’ve been wanting to give you something for a while now. Something to remind you of me.”

He ran his fingers along the beads and mouthed the words “My Comfort”.

“That’s what you are to me. Comfort. When the world is too loud and my thoughts are too jumbled, you help make things quiet. You’re like a warm blanket that can muffle out the bad and the scary. I just hope that you’re as comfortable with me as I am with you.”

He remained silent for a while, rolling one of the beads between his fingers. Finally, he moved to bring your wrist to his mouth and pressed a light kiss on the inside of your wrist and then the center of your palm.

“I never thought I would get to have this, you know. A kind of love like this.” He rolled over so that you were face to face and tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t ever leave me, okay?”

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me beel #obey me belphie #om! headcanons #om! hcs #om! imagines #obey me! shall we date?

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years ago

Note

10 for the hug prompts with JonMartin? 🥺

touches prompt list

10 - hiding their face in the other’s neck

a no-fears au where jon and martin are in an established relationship! cw for nausea and a brief mention of vomiting (doesn't actually occur)

Jon doesn’t do roller coasters.

It is not, despite what Tim says when he thinks Jon isn’t listening, because he’s a, quote, ‘old man at heart’ and doesn’t know how to have fun. In theory, Jon is actually rather fond of roller coasters. He’d watched a documentary once about the design of them, and it had been rather fascinating.

It’s not because Jon doesn’t like roller coasters. It’s…

Well. It’s probably more accurate to say that roller coasters don’t like him. Specifically, his sense of equilibrium and his digestive system. Pills help somewhat, if he remembers to take them, but the fact of the matter is that he’s much more likely to leave the ride with a feeling of intense nausea than of exhilaration. He just… gets motion sick. No way around it. He always sits in the front seat of cars, ensures that he’s in a forward-facing train seat at all times, rarely travels by boat, and… avoids roller coasters.

The fact that he is currently standing in the queue for a particularly large and particularly frightening-looking roller coaster is not, therefore, due to his overwhelming love for them. It is instead entirely due to his overwhelming love for the man standing next to him, eyes bright and excited as he explains the history of this particular roller coaster. His hand is warm and soft in Jon’s, and their clasped hands swing absently back and forth as they slowly inch forward in the queue. His curls are a shock of auburn against the sky, and when he laughs and squeezes Jon’s hand, Jon forgets his anxiety entirely for a moment, lost in a wave of affection and fondness.

“—and because it’s the twenty-fifth anniversary of the ride,” Martin says with a wide grin, “it’ll be running backward today! Well, all season, I- I suppose, but we’re here today, so…”

Jon has never been on a roller coaster that’s traveled backward. It does… not sound appealing.

“That’s… very exciting,” Jon says with a smile, trying to make the words sound as genuine as possible. Because he is a coward. Or, perhaps, just very in love. Maybe both.

It’s just… Martin had been so excited when he’d dropped the amusement park tickets in front of Jon a few weeks ago. And in the four months or so that they’ve been dating, Jon has found it increasingly hard to say things that will cause that wide, unabashed smile on Martin’s face to dim even in the slightest. So Jon had discretely taken several motion sickness pills before they’d left that morning and had told himself that there were plenty of other things to do at an amusement park besides roller coasters and spinning rides and other things that make it their personal mission to tie Jon’s stomach into knots.

And then Martin had spent the entire train ride rambling about the various roller coasters and how he’d always wanted to go to an amusement park but he’d never been able to find the time or the money before and how he’s never been on a roller coaster but they look so fun, and Jon just… hadn’t been able to tell him.

It’ll be fine, he tells himself as they finally reach the front of the queue, the brightly colored cars sitting empty in front of them. It’ll be… completely, totally fine. Nothing to worry about.

They sit a few rows from the front. The click of the restraints makes Jon’s stomach squeeze with nerves, and he swallows around the lump in his throat. He doesn’t realize that he’s gripping the bar in front of him with white knuckles until Martin says gently, “Hey. Is… everything okay?”

No, but it’s certainly too late to change my mind now, Jon does not say.

“Yes,” Jon says, loosening his grip with considerable effort. It’s fine. “Just… b-been a while since I was on one of these.”

Technically not a lie.

“Oh!” Martin gives him a soft smile that makes his heart stutter in his chest. “Well, it’ll be a… new experience for both of us then, I suppose.”

The car jerks into motion, and Jon’s hands tighten instinctively on the bar again. It’s a… disconcerting effect, to be moving backward rather than forward, and one that Jon is decidedly not fond of. They exit the staging area and begin to climb up the first of the many, many hills Jon had eyed warily from their place in the queue. Jon looks straight ahead and does not look down and tries to breathe through his nose.

A warm hand covers his, and Jon looks over to see Martin watching him, that same soft smile on his lips. Martin squeezes gently, and Jon relaxes, just a fraction.

Then, the car tips over the peak of the hill and begins to accelerate, and Jon’s world blurs into a mess of colors and sensations.

The only part of the ride that Jon enjoys is the fact that it’s over quickly. By the time the car rolls to a halt—after a terrifying sequence of loops and drops and harsh curves and tight spirals—Jon feels as if his insides have been scooped out, stuffed in a washing machine, tumble dried, and then pushed back into him at all the wrong angles. Martin’s hand is still gripping his, somehow, and it remains there as they exit the car and make their way down the ramp and into the main thoroughfare. Jon’s legs feel boneless, like they’re made of jelly, and he is deeply afraid that if he opens his mouth, he is going to empty the contents of his stomach onto the pavement below.

Gentle hands are on Jon’s shoulders then, and Jon finds himself guided onto a metal bench just a few meters away from the exit ramp. Jon tries to protest that he’s fine—they have limited time here and he doesn’t need to take a break—but his stomach rolls and he pinches his lips shut before he manages to form a single word. When a hand settles on his upper back and presses down gently, he finally gives in to the urge to bend over and tuck his head between his knees in an effort to alleviate some of the lingering vertigo.

“Breathe, Jon,” Martin says, and Jon does. He takes a few deep breaths, and when a particularly powerful wave of nausea overtakes him, he can’t help the groan that escapes him. “I know,” Martin says softly, moving his hand in soothing circles on Jon’s back. “Just keep breathing, Jon. We can get some water in a bit, just… for now, let’s sit.”

Jon is too nauseous to be properly embarrassed by the coddling. That situation changes quickly as the minutes pass and Jon’s stomach begins to settle. After what must be nearly ten minutes, the nausea has faded entirely, but Jon keeps his head between his knees so he doesn’t have to look at Martin’s face.

“Feeling any better?” Martin prompts, and Jon lets out a slow breath. He nods once, and—with the help of Martin’s hand on his arm—straightens slowly, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the ground as he does so.

“Sorry,” he says, so quietly he isn’t sure Martin can hear him over the din of the crowd.

“You don’t have to apologize for- for feeling sick,” Martin says. He rubs a thumb against Jon’s arm and says, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I- I didn’t think… it would be this bad?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jon sees Martin give him a look that very clearly expresses his skepticism.

Jon sighs and puts his head in his hands again. “I just… didn’t want to disappoint you, I suppose.”

Martin is, of course, sharper than Jon gives him credit for sometimes. “Because I said I’d never had the chance to go on a roller coaster before?”

Jon nods miserably. “I-in my defense, I thought you would start with something significantly less… gravity-defying.”

“Jon,” Martin says, kindly and patiently yet with a chastising edge to it. “You could have waited by the exit.”

“I—I didn’t…” Jon feels the tips of his ears grow warm. “I didn’t want to leave you.”

“Oh,” Martin says, his voice pitched a touch higher than normal. “That’s… um, r-really sweet, actually.”

Jon is glad that Martin can’t see his face because he’s sure whatever expression would have crossed it just then would have been utterly sappy and mortifying.

“B-but I—I don’t want you to make yourself sick on my account,” Martin hastens to say. “There are loads of other things to do here. W-we don’t have to ride the roller coasters.”

Jon uncovers his face and looks at Martin. “But you want to ride the roller coasters.”

Martin worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He doesn’t deny it. Instead, he says, “I… also want to spend time with you, Jon. D-doing things we both want to do, not… not just me.”

Jon stares at Martin and thinks, not for the first time, that he loves him. But it’s still too early to say it, probably, and he’s certainly not going to do so sitting on a sticky metal bench surrounded by children and tired-eyed parents. So all he says, in the end, is, “If… if you’re sure.”

Martin takes Jon’s hand in his and squeezes gently. “I am.” Then, he gives Jon a wide, soft smile that has Jon’s stomach twisting all over again. “So. What do you do at amusement parks, then?”

Jon flushes. But Martin doesn’t laugh at him when he mumbles that he’s actually quite fond of carousels. Instead, he takes Jon’s hand and walks with him across the park—staying away from the more crowded sections, stopping to buy some horrendously overpriced bottles of water on their way—until they’re standing in front of the carousel, painted in lovely pastel blues and yellows.

Jon, for a moment, feels self-conscious and more than a bit childish. But then Martin squeezes his hand and says, without a hint of teasing, “So, what animal do you prefer?” and the tension in Jon’s shoulders melts away in an instant.

Jon learns that Martin likes the classic horses, manes painted gold and plastic saddles a bright cherry red. (And Martin is entirely unsurprised to find that Jon chooses the cat, every time.) He learns, as they continue to explore the amusement park, that Martin likes caramel apples but hates how they get stuck in his teeth. (He purchases one anyway, rolled in peanuts and little rainbow sprinkles, that gives Jon a toothache just looking at it.) He learns that Martin does not appreciate his explanation that the monsters on the haunted house ride are ‘just dummies’ and ‘obviously fake’ and ‘really, Martin, that’s not even the correct number of bones in a human skeleton.’ (Though he secretly treasures the way that Martin clings to his side in the car and hides his face in Jon’s neck, his curls tickling the sensitive skin just underneath Jon’s chin.)

And Martin, apparently, learns that Jon is strangely good at midway games.

“You know those things are totally rigged, right?” Martin says, staring at Jon in disbelief as he tries and fails to adjust his grip on the frankly enormous plush teddy bear the midway worker had begrudgingly surrendered to him. And the medium-sized plush cat he’d won earlier. And the dozen or so little plushies and trinkets and accessories he’d acquired along the way. “You’re not supposed to be able to win.”

“Yes, well.” Jon gives up on trying to find a comfortable way to carry his prizes and extends the massive teddy toward Martin. “I suppose I’m just… lucky.”

He is certainly not going to admit that he spent a good three days researching what to do on a carnival date, came to the conclusion that it would be romantic to win an enormous stuffed animal for Martin, and committed himself to memorizing which games were easiest to win and what strategies he should employ in order to have the best chance at success. That would be… well. A bit much, he thinks. Best to just… not mention it.

Martin carries the teddy all the way back to his flat, his cheeks flushing a lovely pink whenever an occasional curious glance is thrown in their direction. It’s only once they get there and Martin tries to pass the plushie back to Jon with a sheepish, “Suppose I better give this back now,” that Jon realizes he had… indeed not been very clear about his intentions.

“It’s… for you, actually,” Jon says, ignoring the way his cheeks are growing steadily warmer. Then, Jon takes a breath and pushes the rest of the plushies rather unceremoniously into Martin’s arms, save for the cat which he’s… grown rather attached to in their short acquaintanceship. “Th-they all are. Er. F-for you.”

“O-oh.” Martin looks down at the collection of brightly colored things in his arms, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. “I—I… really?”

Jon hugs the cat tightly to his chest, feeling something like embarrassment curl in his stomach. “I-if you don’t want them, I—I can—”

“No!” Martin says quickly, curling his arms protectively around the plushies. “I—I do. W-want them.” He looks down at the teddy sitting by his feet, then up at Jon with a warm, shy smile on his face. “Th-thanks, Jon.”

I love him, I love him, I love him.

Jon nods, pinches his lips together, and tries to keep his affection contained. He doesn’t want to come on too strong, after all. That’s… something he’s not meant to do, he thinks.

Then, when they’re both lying in bed and Martin’s chest is pressed against Jon’s back, his arm curled around Jon’s middle and his nose buried in Jon’s hair, Martin murmurs, “I love you,” and Jon’s breath catches in his throat.

“I… I love you too,” he whispers. And it’s such an easy thing to say that Jon wonders why he’d ever worried at all.

Martin makes a sleepy, contented noise, burrowing closer and wrapping Jon more tightly in his arms. And because he can—he can, he can, Martin said it first, so he can—Jon says again, so quietly he isn’t sure Martin can hear it: “I love you.”

The words are sweet on his tongue, like candy floss and funnel cakes and caramel apples.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #my writing #my fic #i know nothing about british amusement parks so if this is painfully american... forgive me #hawkfurze

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just-a-really-tall-girl-tbh · 3 years ago

Text

Grounded

Summary: Y/n is kidnapped and forced to reveal secrets of the pack

Pairing: Derek X Reader

Warnings: Blood, torture, swearing

Word count: 2605

Original piece please don’t copy

The school bell rang for the final time that day, a collective sigh of gratitude echoed in the room, the teenagers grateful to be released from the maths teacher’s class. Gathering your books, you stacked them in a neat pile before exiting the room, offering a small smile to your defeated teacher. It wasn’t her fault maths sucked and no one enjoyed it, you did feel bad for her on some level but also who the hell would willingly dedicate their life to teaching numbers?

Entering the hallway, you made your way through the sea of teenagers, everyone desperate to go home for the weekend. Reaching your locker, you grabbed the couple books you needed, shoving them into your backpack, thinking about the homework you had due on Monday you sighed. The door to your locker slammed shut before you could close it.

“Hey, you ready?” Stiles smiled.

“I told you I can walk home.” You rolled your eyes, walking away from the boy. Surprised by your quick movement, Stiles jogged to catch up to you, throwing an arm lazily around your shoulders.

“I know you can walk home but why would you when you have me?”

Exiting the main doors of the high school, you welcomed the fresh warm air, the smell of angsty teens left behind you. Reaching the end of the pavement, you saw the jeep parked a few cars away.

“Stiles I want to walk.” You turned to face the boy.

“Y/n, you heard what Derek said okay? All these recent attacks? The break ins and thefts? He doesn’t want you alone.” Stiles tried to reason with you. Knowing the recent spike in criminal activity was less than likely to involve the supernatural, you felt safe walking the 20-minute trip home. In fact, you enjoyed the peace it brought you. Half of the walk was through the woods, a quiet haven from the busy high school, and being autumn, you relished in the yellow and orange leaves that swept through the small woodlands.

“Stiles. It’s 20 minutes. I’ll text you when I get home okay?” Stiles sighed.

“You know Derek is going to kill me if I let you, you know, that right? You like the idea of alive Stiles because I do! And I am not letting you be the reason I don’t make it to my 20’s okay?”

“Derek doesn’t have the balls to kill you.” You turned on the heel of your foot, headed towards the woods, leaving a defeated Stiles in your wake.

“I’m telling Derek you said he has no balls!” He called after you. You let out a small laugh, grabbing your headphones from your backpack, and your phone from your pocket, you scrolled through your playlist, deciding today was the perfect day for (Your current favourite song).

Entering the woods, you felt a rush of calm wash over you, the stressful week was pushed to the back of your mind, your thoughts centred on the surrounding woods. You stepped over exposed roots and around large bushes, glancing up at the sky you watched as the wind swept through the foliage, the ageing leaves dancing in the light breeze. The sun peaked through the cracks, determined to reach the forest floor, providing the perfect amount of light for your stroll. The floor of the woods had been coated in fallen leaves, leaving a blanket of red and orange below your feet. Taking a moment to stop and appreciate the tranquillity the forest provided you, you felt your phone buzz in you pocket.

Home yet? I’m this close to sending out a search party!

Rolling your eyes and shaking your head you began typing a response.

You need to…

Before you could finish you felt a knock to your head, your vision distorted, the soft sound of music playing through your headphones which were now next to you on the forest floor, was the only thing you could hear before everything went black.

***

Another blow straight to your stomach knocked the wind out of you. Coughing and spluttering you attempted to regain your breath, each inspiration hurting more than the last.

“Oh, you are so going to regret that.” You mumbled.

Leaning to the side of the chair you spat a mixture of saliva and blood to the ground, you couldn’t tell where the source of the blood was coming from, maybe your lip, or maybe the inside of your mouth. Too many lacerations to your face meant it all blended into one.

You raised your eyes to meet your rival, struggling to see through the blood you saw one man wiping his fists on an old rag, your blood coating his knuckles. He faced a woman to your left, who sat with one bent knee up on a bench. Her back leaning against the wall adjacent to you, a smug grin on her face.

You rotated your wrists which were bound behind you, the thick rope digging into your skin. Your ankles were bound too, tied to the legs of the wooden chair you sat on.

“You’re going to tell us what we want sweetie, its just a matter of how beat up that pretty face is going to be before you tell us.” The woman commented, as she played with her fingernails, pushing the cuticles back. If she was trying to look disinterested, she was doing a great job. But you were ready for this. You trained for this. You knew what was coming, and if it meant keeping your friends, the pack, safe, then you would gladly take whatever they threw at you.

The mans fist connected with your jaw once more, snapping you out of your daze. The room began to spin around you, and your vision blurred. Trying to recenter yourself you pulled at your wrists, the pain of the rope grinding into your skin giving you something to focus on.

“Alright careful there, big guy, we need her conscious if we’re going to get that information.” The woman stood from her seat, striding slowly over to you, before bending at the waist in front of you. She reached out to grab your face, but as soon as her fingers made contact with your skin you pulled away. A stern look, on your face made the woman let out a small laugh.

“You’re a tough one aren’t you.” She turned her head, almost admiring your battered body before her. “Too bad that doesn’t mean shit around here.” Grabbing your hair, she yanked your head back, exposing your neck to the room. Moving to stand behind you she held out her other hand, gesturing towards the man in front of you. Without a word exchanged, the man grabbed a knife from a nearby table, its blade glinting in the moonlight the small window above you allowed.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea who you are dealing with do you?” The woman whispered in your ear, her grip on your hair only tightening as she neared the knife to your throat. You felt the cold edge, lightly cross your neck, not enough to pierce the skin, but enough for you to avoid swallowing.

Taking a deep breath in you closed your eyes. Grounding yourself was apart of your training, something that was drilled into you from the beginning. Breathing in again, you picked up on the different smells the room produced, sweat from the man in front of you, poorly masked by his cheap cologne. The sweet smell of the woman’s hair from behind, her locks dangling beside your face. The overwhelming metallic smell of blood being the most potent. You changed your focus to your heartbeat. Feeling it pounding against your chest begging to be released you pictured your heart slowing, its contractions reducing with every breath you took. Steadying your breathing was next. Cautious of the blade still connected to your neck you breathed in through your nose, holding in for a few seconds before releasing softly through your mouth. Repeating those steps, you were able to regain some stability. You were still in the same crappy scenario but at least now you were calmer. A panicking person is an interrogators wet dream. A calm person, their nightmare.

Sensing your self-control increase, the woman let go of your hair, moving the knife from your neck to the table beside the man. Standing before you once more, she knelt in front of you, keeping one knee up for balance, she waited for your eyes to open once more. Regaining the control, you almost lost, you felt strong enough to open your eyes once more. Staring at you the woman barely moved, she was searching your eyes for something, her expression a mixture of shock and impressed.

“You’re not afraid.” Her words barely above a whisper. Your only response was a return glare. A small smile creeping on to the face of your kidnapper. “They trained you well.”

Standing, she turned to the man behind her, whispering something in his ear before turning back to face you, her arms crossed against her chest. The man dropped the rag he was still holding and left the room, the sound of the door locking behind him.

“Let’s cut the bullshit honey. You have information I need. And I know I’m not going to break you, not by torturing you anyways. So, let’s try something else, shall we?” The woman began to pace back and forth in front of you, the small room only allowing her a few steps before being forced to turn around again. Your eyes followed her, left and right, before she stopped in front of you once more, still facing forward.

Taking in a sharp breath, she spoke. “How’s your sister doing?” She turned to face you. Refusing to let her know she was finally making some progress with you, you remained staring at her. Resuming her pacing she continued speaking.

“She’s what 5 now? Gosh so young. But you know what they say right? They grow up so fast.” Your eyes tracked the woman, more intently than before. This woman knew your family. Something that was always off limits when the pack was involved. Your attempts at shielding them from the supernatural had been successful, keeping that part of your life private even from Derek. And here this woman stood, threatening them. Threating to take away your motivation to make the world safer. Unfazed by your lack of reaction the woman carried on.

“Soon enough she’ll be going to high school, making friends, maybe even realising who her sister really is.” She stopped before you once more, bending at the waist she placed her hands on the arms of the chair you were bound to. “You didn’t think you could protect them, forever did you?” Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. No amount of calm breathing could ground you now. “Aw babe.” Her hand raised to your cheek, ready to wipe away the falling tear. You only pulled away from her once more, hating the way her skin on yours felt. “Don’t tell me I hit a nerve, did I? Sucks doesn’t it. Well, there is one way of ensuring your little family stay naïve to the world around them.” She stood tall once more, her voice now deeper, more sinister than before. “Tell me what I want to know.”

You had no choice, right? She threatened your family, your sister. You protected them from so long, only for you to be the reason they are in danger. Looking down at your lap, tears hit your thighs unable to control them you simply let them fall. Taking a deep breath, you looked up at the woman before you, a smirk present on her face which made it so much harder to say what you were about to. But the images of your sister raced through your mind. The way her hair shone in the autumn sun, the way her smile reached her eyes when she was really, truly happy, the way she greeted you after school every day by running down the front path directly into your arms. That was the highlight of your day, finishing school and-

Wait

You never responded to Stiles.

You never texted him back, and the kidnappers were kind enough to bring your phone into the room with you – hoping to get some information.

Your eyes moved to the door behind the woman, a loud crash followed by a heavy grunt sounded from behind the entranceway. The woman whipped her head around, only to be met by silence. She slowly approached the doorway.

“Adrian…?”

Silence

The woman turned back to you, unsure of herself. You only had a small smirk as a response. Before she could question you, the door busted open, barely remaining on its hinges, a rush of dust filled the room. Watching ahead as the dust clouds engulfed the woman, you heard a deafening roar followed by a petrified scream. Small thuds followed, as the dust reached your eyes you began coughing, the sudden pain in your ribs swiftly returning.

Two hands were placed on your shoulders, looking up you were met by two green eyes.

“Hey, you okay?” A worried Derek scanned your face, concern riddled him as he saw the multiple cuts and bruising before him. You could only nod, the dust denying you the ability to speak.

Moving behind you, he effortlessly cut the ties that bound your hands, then your legs. Using the arms of the chair to stable yourself, you attempted to stand, wincing when the pain became too much. Derek moved to your side, wrapping your arm over his shoulder. Carefully placing his arm around you, resting his hand on your hip he accepted most of your weight, attempting to make standing and walking easier. As you took a few steps forward, the dust cleared from your eyes and you were able to regain focus. Looking forward you saw the woman who threatened you, her back against the same wall the door was, her skin now covered in blood, her chest still rising and falling rapidly. Scott stood before her, looking down at the defeated woman, his eyes still red and his claws still present.

Clearing your throat, you stopped walking, causing Derek to pause and look over to you. You peered down at the woman, no longer in a position of power, she looked smaller, more gaunt than before. Her eyes showed she was petrified, providing some comfort to you after what she did.

“Sucks doesn’t it?” a whisper of a smirk present on your lips.

Proceeding to step forward through the doorway you were met by a panting Stiles, his arms stretched out in front of him, you couldn’t tell him to stop before his body connected with yours. You inhaled sharply, grimacing as pain rang throughout your body.

Derek used his free hand to grab Stiles by the shoulder, pulling him away from you, a small growl forming in his chest.

“Oh, shit sorry of course you’re hurt shit sorry.” The boy stumbled over his words, his eyes finally taking in the battered sight before him. He moved to the side of you not occupied by Derek, his help was welcomed by you, suddenly feeling lightheaded from standing.

The three of you began walking forward towards the exit of the building.

“Is now a good time to tell Derek, you think he has no balls?” Stiles piped up earning a death glare from Derek. “No? Okay we can come back to that.” You used whatever energy you had left to shake your head.

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beauty-and-passion · 4 years ago

Text

Headcanon: the mind’s structure and the concept of a Side’s “room”

Hi.

This post is entirely based one the last asks I got, in which dear sweet anon asked me: "How do you think the rooms of the other sides will look like?"

And so here I am, talking about my own headcanons. Was the ask just an excuse to write this post? Yes.

Of course I don’t pretend to talk about possible canonical rooms Thomas can make in real life (I already wrote a post about that). This one is entirely based on the ideas I’m developing through my fanfictions.

____________________________

The mind’s structure

One of the most famous images associated with the mind and how it’s structured is the iceberg one.

For the people who have never seen it, here’s a sample image:

As you can see, it’s theorized the mind can be roughly divided into three parts:

Conscious mind, which includes all of the things that you’re actively aware of: thoughts, perceptions of the world, etc.

Subconscious/preconscious mind, which includes all of the things that you could potentially pull into conscious awareness. It’s a sort of “filter”, that controls what is allowed to be part of the conscious.

Unconscious mind, which includes everything that is outside of our conscious awareness: hidden feelings, thoughts, urges, all that’s unacceptable and/or unpleasant.

Having said that, I think you already have an idea about where some rooms might be located.

But that’s not all. This is the overall structure of the mind. The mind itself is made of a series of layers: the higher ones are part of the conscious mind, the central ones are part of the subconscious and the lower ones are part of the unconscious.

The proportions are the same as the iceberg image: few planes on top, a whole lot of planes at the bottom.

This is the only image I found that was close enough to how I imagine the planes are. Every plane has its own ecosystem: it can be a forest, a wheatfield, a beach, an island in the middle of an ocean, Thomas’ neighborhood, his house. The more Thomas grows, the more planes appear in his mind and their borders aren’t always the same: some planes might seem endlessly big, others as small as a single house.

And of course the planes aren’t flat surfaces either: they’re three-dimensional and you can move inside them, just like you can move in our world.

But if a Side wants to move from one plane to a lower one, then they sink. While when they move from a lower plane to a higher one, they rise up.

Yes, it’s a reference from Nostalgia part 2:

[Virgil]: -pops up in the same way as the others- Whoa. That was new for me. I've never done that whole... rising up thing. How do you guys do that every episode? I'm so lightheaded.

And what do you do when you rise up a lot? You end up on the reality plane. Where Thomas is, were we all live. And where Sides appears, when Thomas calls for them.

Okay, everything good?

Very nice. Now you know more than the actual Sides.

The Sides themselves doesn’t know how the mind is structured. They know there are different places and some are a bit lower than others (because they sink a lot, before reaching them), but they have no idea these places are divided into planes and they have no idea how many planes are actually in the mind. They don’t even know where exactly are their own rooms, just that some are “higher” and "lower” than others. And why should they know? They don’t need this information, to better do their job.

There’s only one Side who perfectly knows how many levels are in the mind - and yes, he needs to know for his job - and this Side is Janus.

____________________________

The rooms

A room is just one of the mind’s many layers that one Side chooses as his own.

This choice isn’t casual: the planes appear within the mind, the same mind who created the Sides. So, among a lot of other planes, there’s also one specifically made for each Side.

The room is the only place where a Side has full control over everything. While the other planes are always the same and can’t be changed by no one (except for the two Creativities, whose power “leaks” into the levels above and below their own room), a room allows full creative control to their owner. A Side can change the place, shrink it, expand it.

And this explains why Patton’s room looks like Thomas’ house: because he actively chose to make his own room look like a place dear to Thomas, associated with memories and childhood.

This also explains why Virgil chose to make his room look like Thomas’ as well: he’s Anxiety, he fears changes. The bubble is secure, the bubble is everything. And Thomas’ own house is the perfect bubble to keep his anxiety at bay.

So, let’s see each room a bit closer:

__________________

1. Logan’s room: tip of the iceberg

Logan’s room is almost at the top of the mind, the closer to reality. Again, for obvious reasons: logic is the most conscious, rational part of the mind, the less influenced by the subconscious and the unconscious.

Since I’m a sucker for the contrast between logic and powerful nature, Logan’s room is a lighthouse that stands on rocks and is surrounded by the ocean. On top of the lighthouse there’s a cozy, circular living room surrounded by glass windows. There are nice couches, tables, soft rugs and globes of yellow, warm lights all around. No need for a bookcase: the book Logan wants to read is just on the table. He needs a computer? Here it is, it just appeared on the table.

When everything is fine, the ocean is calm and peaceful, day and night alternate as always, the sky is clear and, while the outside reminds of a fresh, summer morning, the living room looks more like a warm, soft winter home.

When Logan isn’t fine, everything changes. The storm takes control of the whole room: the waves crash against the lighthouse, there are thunders and lightning. There’s no more day/night cycle, the storm can go on for days. It’s impossible to stay outside. Inside, everything turns dark.

The place doesn’t welcome you anymore, even if its owner would never send you away. But, if you’re clever, it’s better to leave.

__________________

2. Roman’s room: blooming creativity

Considering Roman is a more controlled Creativity compared to Remus, his room is located way higher than expected from a creative force like him.

Roman’s room is a realm made of ideas. But, like, literally. Everything is made of ideas. And the stronger the idea is, the most real the thing looks like.

For example: if Roman wants to make a fruit tree, the clearer and more vivid his idea of said tree is, the better the tree will be: it will have knots in the wood, ants walking on its branches, flowers will bloom and their petals will fall to let the fruit grow.

And this applies to EVERYTHING. Trees, houses, rivers, hills, mountains, clouds, sun and moon, the day/night cycle, every atmospheric phenomenon and every single grass blade.

Roman’s room is endless. He walks inside it, but he has never seen the end. When he needs a place to stay, a new house appears. When he’s tired, the sun goes down.

His own creativity stems and takes the shape of trees, flowers, fruits. So when Roman eats a fruit, a new idea is born in his mind. When a gust of wind hits him, a new idea appears. And while he walks, he keeps developing the idea, adding details and information he literally takes by the wind, the grass and everything his room has to offer.

In other words: his room is a stream of ideas that constantly changes, while still keeping the same aspect. His room is always different, because he always walks, but it still looks like a natural landscape. There is continuity with how it looked like the day before.

Unlike Remus’ room.

__________________

3. Patton’s room: first of the subconscious

I wasn’t so sure where to put Patton, then I found out memories are located in the subconscious part of the mind and, well, it made a lot of sense.

Patton is Thomas’ emotions, memories, and morality. This last aspect is very close to the conscious mind, sure, but emotions and memories are both part of the subconscious. And, since I think Patton’s first job was related to Thomas’ emotions, his room could very well be located in the high levels of the subconscious.

Patton’s room takes the appearance of Thomas’ house. Sometimes it’s his own house, sometimes it’s his childhood house. And we saw how it was inside: filled with memories, glittering aura and so on.

This is where Patton sleeps and rests, but that’s not the only place he visits. Patton frequently explores other planes of the subconscious and the conscious.

Why? He’s not sure either. He just wants to do it. He doesn’t know, but he’s acting as a sub-controller of the mind, by double checking everything that goes from unconscious to conscious and vice versa.

__________________

4. Janus’ room: an always shifting vault

Janus knows how many levels are in the mind, their position, what they have inside and, in general, everything that happens in every level - he needs to check every information that goes from unconscious to conscious, after all.

But he doesn’t know where his room actually is. Because his room is the only one that shifts.

Its general location is the low-subconscious, but Janus’ room can actually be anywhere he needs it most - and yes, this is useful for his job: if he needs to move from his room to the low unconscious, he can’t waste time sinking like all other Sides: his room shifts and, with one small sink, he’s already where he has to be.

This also makes it incredibly difficult for other Sides to actually find his room and visit him. But that’s also good, because other Sides can’t spend too much time in his room anyway.

Why? Security reasons.

Let’s take a step back. Janus is self-preservation. In other words: that force that keeps you alive and protects you, both mentally and physically.

This implies the mind itself isn’t a safe place either - after all, the unconscious is where everything dangerous is stored. And, since Janus is the one who has to keep what Thomas doesn’t like/wants to know at bay, that means he’s the first controller of the unconscious (hence the two titles of guardian and gatekeeper) and of the exchange of information that exists among all levels.

In addition to that, there’s the pull of the unconscious. Because we all experience it, once in a lifetime. We are all attracted by what we deeply hide into ourselves - something we’re not conscious of, thoughts we might think we do not have at all. We never truly fall down this spiral (that would lead to dementia, delirium and so on), because our own mind pushes us back, bringing us back to reason.

For Thomas, this force that opposes the pull of the unconscious and brings you back to reason is Janus. And, as you can figure out, it’s an incredibly powerful force. A force that never sleeps, is never tired, always vigilant, always aware.

So, what happens when Janus needs to rest? He can’t do it anywhere, because a weak self-preservation is all the unconscious needs in order to take control.

This is where his room comes into play. His room is the only place where Janus can actually rest and allow himself to be weak. His room is like a vault, secured from the mind’s influence and from anything else.

Also, since he has full control over it, he can decide when he needs to disappear. A Side is looking for him but he needs more time to rest? His room shifts multiple times, so no one can find him. He’s fine? He let the other Side find him on the first try.

Still, other Sides can’t spend more than 5 minutes into his room. His room shifts and is more secure than any other, sure, but it’s also connected to everything. Even if he’s in his room, Janus still knows what happens everywhere. And a Side who’s not self-preservation might break for the amount of information that “oozes” from the room itself.

__________________

5. Virgil’s room: a peaceful place in the middle of the unconscious

Just like Patton, Virgil chooses his room to look like Thomas’ house and, in general, all places Thomas feels more at ease.

However, it’s still a room located in the unconscious - and this is a very dangerous place, especially for Sides who live in the conscious/high subconscious. And it’s also Anxiety’s room, so the room itself is full of the influence of its owner.

Hence why, after a while, all Core Sides started to feel the influence of Virgil’s place during AA-part 2.

__________________

6. Remus’ room: bursting creativity

Remus’ room is ever changing: Remus wants a field? There’s a field. He wants an ocean? Here’s the ocean. He wants to live inside a whale? The room is now a whale.

Just like Roman’s room, everything is made of his own creativity. But, unlike Roman’s room, who solidifies his creative power into a constant, coherent landscape, Remus’ landscape always changes, glitches, switches. The room is never the same, there’s no day/night cycle, nor coherent phenomenon: It could snow with 30 °C, it could rain with no clouds. Remus’ creative potential is so strong, it actually ends up influencing the planes above and below his own - just like Roman does up in the consciousness.

And here’s the most important thing: Remus’ room has direct contact with Roman’s. Despite being separated by a huge number of layers and with the subconscious acting as a barrier between them, their rooms are able to communicate. Remus can “plant” his ideas in his room and, like roots, these ideas are able to reach Roman’s room and bloom directly inside it, without touching any other layer in the middle.

That explains why Remus’ influence is able to reach Roman and how Remus’ idea can be literally picked by Roman, “ate” and processed.

__________________

The lowest level

What’s at the bottom of the mind? No one knows. No one could reach the bottom. The only one who can go deep down without going insane or losing himself is Janus, but even self-preservation isn’t able to see what the mind hides at the bottom of itself.

The lowest place Janus can reach is where there are what I called “The Faint Ones”.

The Faint Ones aren’t a Side, nor multiple Sides. They’re an indistinct agglomeration of ideas, concepts and things that will never become Sides. All the Faint Ones want is to surge to the top and take control. But, since the mind is the one in charge, all it does is pushing these forces deep down.

However, the Faint Ones can still call, ask and pray to be freed and their calls can lure the Sides down, just like marine predators do.

The Sides from the unconscious can hear these calls but, since they live in the unconscious, over time they developed some resistance. Still, they can’t venture too deep into the mind (and, with a guardian like Janus, they do not). Remus can hear the calls, but they’re more like a background noise. Virgil just hears faint voices.

On the other hand, Patton, Roman and Logan can’t hear anything from the conscious and subconscious. But if they go too deep into the mind, they start hearing the calls and they are way more hypnotic for them. (That’s also why Janus knows everything that happens inside the mind: to be sure no one goes below a certain point)

Speaking of Janus, of course he’s able to hear the voices and the more he goes down, the more he can recognize their words. Still, the Faint Ones’ calls do not act as a lure for him, no matter how down he can go. He can even face them and still be in complete control.

Because yes, he’s the only one who has ever seen the Faint Ones and knows what they look like.

_______________________________

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#sanders sides #analysis #Headcanon #my fanfiction #thomas sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides theory #it's so satisfying to put everything down #but it also required a lot more words #it was shorter in my mind

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago

Note

Can I request a self conscious chubby Shouto? Reader gives him kisses on his tummy and reassures him about his weight?

tw: shouto has poor body image, fluff, angsty

shouto had been hospitalized for five months.

after what was most definitely the most horrific villain attack seen on live tv against only one hero, the doctors never shut up about how he was lucky to have won, how lucky he was to be alive. it was far after the days that recovery girl had passed, and with no healing quirk having matched her ability it had been a long five months in hospice care.

he had spent one month in a coma and the next four just healing. it had been a hard four months, his body almost refusing to move, black and yellow bruises covered his body still, and the diet... the diet they had him on was one that was supposed to help him gain weight. it was to help with his healing and aid with the muscle gain he was going to need in order to be where he once was - he understood that and he appreciated the doctors doing what was best for him but he didn’t understand how he went from his strong, toned, and lithe form to one with flappy arms, pooling thighs, and a tummy so large he couldn’t see his toes without leaning forward. he never thought he would hate that he couldn’t see his jawline anymore, that he could hate that he couldn’t sit up without feeling his stomach, hate that he was so hungry all the time. he hated that he was so... he was so—

“welcome home!” you cheered merrily, guiding shouto back into the house that had been without his presence for almost half a year.

he tried to focus on you and only you, your mindless babble about how you had learned how to make cold soba noodles for him while he was in the hospital (although you made sure to insist that they weren’t that good so to not get his hopes up, but shouto was tittering on being excited and nauseous at the thought of having endless cold soba), how you had temporarily moved the master bedroom into the closest room to the front door and kitchen just in case he wasn’t ready to move that much, how you had accidentally broken the sliding door but had his brother come and fix it for you, and of course just how happy and grateful you were that he was out. shouto tried to stay engaged but he could feel the eyes scorching on his back, the nosy neighbors and paparazzi who wanted the first pictures of him since his release.

he hated this, he hated his body right now, and their judgmental gaze burned him from the inside out. for over twenty years of his life he had never been without muscle on his body and now... now he was... he was—

“watch your step, you’re been limping again, I don’t want you to trip,” came your gentle voice, your foot planted on the stair and the other on the floor as if to support him in case he fell. like you could keep him upwards if he did, he bitterly thought.

regardless, shouto gave you a gracious half smile and carried through, stepping up to the stair and flinching when he felt that skin he was still starkly unfamiliar with move. but the moment the front door closed behind the both of you, shouto felt empty.

the rest of the day was filled with shouto adjusting to the house once more. adjusting to the way the floors creaked under his feet, of how you always waited for him to enter through the doorways instead of attempting to go through them with him, of how you lingered behind him with conscious eyes and nervous fingers. he knew you were worried, it was as obvious as the sun during a summer heat wave, but it offered him no comfort... it only made him feel worse, made him graze his fingers against his... his...

“why don’t you take a shower?” you suggest, your hands grabbing the dishes on the table. you had made soup, he was still to be on a mostly liquid diet until next week. “I bet this has been exhausting, and if you shower then I can shower and we can sleep early tonight!”

shouto strained a smile again, his tongue still failing to speak. he hasn’t spoken a word in weeks, but you never seemed to grow angry at his lack of words thankfully. his eyes fluttered close when you leaned across the table and pressed a kiss to his cheek, his body shivering both at the familiar contact that he loved and the aching pain that continued to be suppressed.

showering nearly killed him.

feeling the way that his body now worked within the confines of the small room made his head spin. he hated that he couldn’t merely twist his body anymore, he had to completely turn around. he hated that he had to use more body wash, his hands shaking when he maneuvered around the fat that had built on his stomach, the stretched skin that fell on his thighs and arms.

stretch marks... as if the scar on his face wasn’t enough.

with a shaky sigh, he turned off the water and exited the shower.

he wasn’t feeling too bad with the warm water soaking into his skin, but he made the mistake of looking into the mirror as he made his way back to the room.

a mistake.

his eyes bore into his figure, was this really him? he could barely recognize himself. this... this had to be a mistake, there was no way this was him. his hands pressed to his side, hoping that this was all a figment of his imagination, just some twisted depression that was keeping him bound to the worst of this all.

but his hands fell on his body right where he had hoped they wouldn’t, and something snapped within him.

CRASH!

shouto didn’t even realize that he was panting like some rabid animal, his body trembling with extreme force, and the room covered with ice and burn marks. he collapsed forward, suddenly feeling weak, and with every ragged breath tears pricked at the back of his eyes, threatening to fall out but wouldn’t.

he was...

he was f--

“shouto? are you okay in there?”

he couldn’t even bother turning his head to look over at the opening door, but had he, he would’ve seen the way that your head peeked in, your eyes focused with concern, sympathy, and love. he focused on his hands, the white of his gripping knuckles, and the bulge of his veins.

“I-I’m okay,” he finally spoke, his head remaining low, horrid thoughts plaguing his head as the cold hallway air drafted into the room sending shivers down his spine - not that he reacted to it.

“that’s a lie if I ever heard one,” you sigh, not even trying to give him the satisfaction of believing his lie. but again, that was a quality he loved about you. “I won’t press because i’m sure this has been an overwhelming day for you, but... i’m here for you, shouto, you know?”

it was then that your hand pressed against his spine, and shouto felt his soul leave his body.

he didn’t want you touching him like this, he thought, storming away, trying to avoid your worried look as he pushed past you.

no not like this, his eyes clenched and his fists trembled at his side.

he was ugly, he gasped for air as he entered the room, his vision swimming.

he was... he was--!

“please don’t cry... please don’t cry without telling me why you’re upset!” your voice begged and shouto hated how distraught you sounded. “are you in pain?”

“no. well, not really.”

“is this happening too fast? were you discharged too soon?”

“no... i’m fine.”

it’s....

“was it the food? I know i’m still learning, but I didn’t think the food was that bad!”

“n-no, not that...”

it’s because...

“then what’s going on, sho?”

“it’s because i’m fat!” shouto finally spat, his body shaking with exploding emotion, steam spilling from his body as if he was fighting some evil villain.

his face was set in stone, a look of pure emotionlessness as long as you didn’t look into his eyes. as long as you didn’t know that sad glint in his eyes meant that he was emotionally beyond repair right now. he saw your mouth drop, most likely to ease any ‘untrue’ thoughts that danced on his mind. he didn’t want to hear it.

“I am, y/n, i’m fat. my clothes don’t fit and I have to wear these... throw away clothes! the doctors said im almost twice my usual weight. I-I have fat in places I didn’t even know existed, my stomach is so fucking huge i’m surprised kaminari hasn’t sent me some pregnant meme by now, and it took all my energy to just shower today. i’m fat!” shouto heaved, his forehead covered in cold sweat while glaring at the wall to the left of your head. he couldn’t look at you right now, not after that outburst.

the silence lingered thickly in the air, corroding the muscles in his throat, making his heart flutter in anxiety driven pulses while you shifted from foot to foot, your teeth gnawing at your lower lip. he wanted to apologize to you, for what he didn’t know but he felt bad. his actions were halted by you sharp inhale, and that kind strong smile that fell on your face.

“...well, im not going to fight you on that, but i’m glad you spoke your mind,” you said softly, your hands moving to grip each other while you tried to save face in front of him. it was obvious that you hadn’t even thought that which made shouto feel even guiltier. “I’m going to shower, so please get ready for bed, yeah? we’ll talk more once we’re in bed and relaxed a bit!”

shouto’s nostrils flared, his heart squeezing at the fact that you still showed him such kind and soft love, and so he nodded his head in agreement.

“I won’t take long,” you promised about your shower, and shouto smiled even if a bit emotionlessly before your lips pressed softly against his. “be right back, get ready.”

he wasn’t sure how long it took him to get ready and for you to join him in bed, but his eyes were opened and he was staring off at your side of the bed as you climbed into bed. the gentle, warm, and cool scent of your hair wash and body wash drafted into his nose, a very welcoming smell after months of knowing only the sterile smell of bleached walls and floors.

“you ready to talk?” you asked him, and shouto blinked once, twice, his sight refocusing on your shining eyes and furrowed brow. he knew immediately that you had a lot to speak on, most likely creating some sort of script to follow.

“no,” shouto couldn’t help but say, his own worries forgotten for a moment when the natural need to tease you infiltrated his veins. “but i’m ready to hear you talk.”

your lips pursed, twitching in a way that made it obvious to him at least that you were resisting the urge to verbally attack him.

“five months ago, I thought I was going to lose you.” you began, your eyes uncharacteristically dropping from his own gaze and trailing down his body, as if in disbelief that he was even here. your hands moved to his chest, pressing softly onto the skin that he was hateful towards. “when I got the news that you had been hospitalized, and that you had gone into a coma... I wasn’t sure what to think. but you woke up before I knew it and then four months went by after you woke up, and i’ve been so... grateful that you survived that I hadn’t even bothered to think about how you must be feeling about this entire thing. I know this is a lot of change, its a lot of change, and I don’t know how to really help, but this is what I think.”

shouto felt his breathing nearly stop as your fingers trailed down the fat on his arms, his chest and his stomach. your eyes almost shyly met his and you pressed a kiss to his lips, unwilling to allow him to think for a second that this was just some staged thing.

“your weight doesn’t define you. your weight doesn’t make you less desirable. does your weight make you fat? sure, it completely does, but there’s nothing wrong with being fat. fat is not ugly, fat is not weak, fat is not less. bodies need fat, its basic biology. without fat we can’t exist, we can’t do anything, and sure right now you have more than you’ve ever had - but it’s okay, you’re still healthy and that is what matters. i mean look at fat gum! sure, he needs to be fat in order for his quirk to work, but nevertheless, he’s fat and he’s a pro hero. he’s healthy and still he’s fat. if you would rather be skinny than fat, that’s okay, you can choose what you want to be, as long as it’s done with good intentions. at the end of the day you’re still my shouto, you’re the man I know and love because fat determines none of that. I love the fat on your body as much as I loved the abs because either way it’s you.”

the words rang heavy in his ears, all thoughts and reasons he had seemingly disappeared the moment the last word was said. and tears fell from his eyes when you kissed every spot on his body that he had once been dreadfully insecure about. every kiss to his stomach sent butterflies through every cell, every soft breath spreading chills until he was gasping for breath - until you were finally back to his face and pressing kisses to his face until he wrapped you closer.

“I love you in any form you take.”

a/n: it may not be my place to share this with you, but while writing this it actually reminded me of a ted talk I had seen once. I think its a very good talk, and dismantles a lot of mainstream thoughts about self love which I at least thought was important. if you were able to make it to the bottom of this, I suggest checking it out because as this video re-taught me, fat is not a synonym for ugly, and we should stop believing that it is.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader

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kyuuppi · 4 years ago

Text

Fruit Salad (NSFW)

Pairing: Orihara Izaya x Reader ( ♀ )

Genre: SMUT, a lot of subtle fluff cause Izaya is my husbando and I love him

⚠️WARNING⚠️ Oh boy... food play, object insertion, light dirty talk, maybe some degradation?, kitchen sex, fingering, really messy oral, light nipple play, biting, spit play, slightly insecure reader, unfortunately Izaya does not get nakey :(

WC: 4.4k

Izaya hums to himself as he moves around the room with purpose, seeming to have already mentally planned at least ten steps ahead of each action he takes--the antithesis to your own frazzled, jerky movements as your flit between various cardboard boxes, unable to recall the contents of a single one without reading the haphazard black sharpie words etched on the sides. You feel frustration well within you as you realize you are not even halfway done with unpacking the bedroom after nearly two hours.

‘Why the hell do I have so many clothes when I wear the same three sweatshirts every week!’

Glancing over at Izaya’s side of the room you can’t help but feel envious at his few, neatly organized boxes he seems to instinctively know the contents of. All of his clothing seems to fit in a single large box, the bulk of his belongings being various computer hardware and other communication devices that he handles with care.

As per usual, he seems to have a sixth sense for knowing exactly what you’re thinking and his head lifts from the short stack of books in his hands to meet your annoyed gaze with a taunting grin.

“It’s rude to stare, y’know.”

You tear your eyes away from his form with a scoff, a self of hopelessness coming over your form when your eyes land on yet another box mockingly labelled “clothes.” Three months ago, when Izaya had suggested the two of you move in together as your lease at your previous place was coming to an end, you had been ecstatic, to say the least. In the midst of your twenties it is easy to compare yourself to others you deemed more successful and established and you were starting to feel your minimum wage job and shabby apartment complex, filled with mostly rowdy college freshmen with a few grumpy elderly cat ladies sprinkled in, was holding you back. Moving into a fancy new apartment you could never even dream of affording by yourself and with your handsome boyfriend of two years no less--now that is how succeeding in life really looks, right? You were excited to open a new chapter of your life but now, as you stand in the middle of an unfamiliar living room with at least thirty boxes scattered around and the beginnings of hunger pains settling in the pits of your stomach from skipping breakfast, you aren’t so sure.

The beginnings of your internal self-pity rants are interrupted by the familiar childish lilt of Izaya’s voice as he approaches one of the larger boxes by your side.

“My, my...it seems my favorite little human needs some help,” he teases, easily cutting through the messy layers of packing tape with one of his numerous pocket knives he seems to always have.

In the corner of your eye you recognize one of the colorful lumps that springs from the opened box as a childhood Gudetama plush you had all but forgotten you owned. It likely lived most of the past four years in the back corner of your closet, to be honest.

Izaya’s offer immediately relieves some of the pressure from your shoulders and you find yourself growing warm at his display of genuine kindness. At times like these it is difficult to imagine Izaya as the sadistic monster most of Ikebukuro makes him out to be--

“I wonder if I’ll find something naughty in one of these boxes~”

Nevermind. He is definitely a monster.

You use all of your strength to jab his arm in retaliation, your face feeling hot as you sputter out that you don’t have any “naughty” belongings, thank you very much! He only laughs manically, completely unfazed by your physical attack as he makes his way to your new shared bedroom to put your unnecessarily large collection of plushies away.

Having some of your burdens removed you feel much more clear headed and decide to get started on putting the dishes away so the two of you could at least have silverware for the takeout you’ll inevitably be ordering soon. Having spent a great deal of time in a few of Izaya’s apartments over the past few years, you already have an idea of where he keeps certain things and you try to make a conscious effort to satisfy the both of you with locations you think make the most sense. Pretty soon, the repetitive actions of putting forks in draws and plates in cupboards becomes second nature and you find yourself zoning out as you work, oblivious to Izaya’s own labors in the other room until his voice once again breaks the relative silence of the apartment.

“What’s in this box?” Izaya asks innocently as he approaches the kitchen you’re in.

You turn your head to look at what he is referring to, unsurprised to find him already peering inside the flaps of the bright pink box he had just opened. It would be more surprising to you if he hadn’t opened the box. As an information broker and a naturally curious person in general, Izaya has a habit of checking things himself rather than waiting for someone to tell him what he wants to hear. You suppose in his field he is used to people attempting to lie to protect themselves anyway but the first few months of having your boyfriend casually invading every aspect of your privacy were overwhelming, to say the least. Rather than reaching a compromise (Izaya didn’t exactly do compromises), you grew used to it and no longer felt scandalized if you saw him shamelessly scrolling through your cell phone you had just changed the pass code to or bringing up a topic you had only talked about once before with a close friend. His actions had good intentions behind them...usually.

You recognize the pink box immediately and can’t help but to smile fondly at the memory.

“Ah, my mom dropped that off when she came to visit a few weeks ago. She said it's a housewarming gift. I haven’t gotten around to opening it though,” you answer, watching as he pulls out a few items and placing them on the breakfast bar between you two.

The first few objects are what you would expect, a few overpriced scented candles and a plush blanket in your favorite color. It is one of the last few items Izaya pulls out that has your mouth falling slack with shock and his own expression morphing from confusion to pure glee. Dangled from his right hand is an atrociously bright colored pack of small, uniform circles surrounded by clear plastic squares adorning matching colored cartoon fruits drawn on each.

Condoms...fruit flavored condoms.

You silently pray the group will just open up and swallow you whole as Izaya carelessly tosses the box to the side to turn all of his attention on the pack in his hands, excitedly assessing each of the options. While of course you are no stranger to sex, Izaya had a healthy libido afterall, it was generally a small, undisclosed part of your relationship together. When the moment struck it would happen, generally very vanilla with the occasional teasing remarks or dirty talk via Izaya, but afterwards neither of you ever talked about it or brought it up. But...now that you two would be living together...would it happen more often? Your cheeks instantly heat up in mortification at where your own perverted train of thought was rapidly heading.

“Which do you think we should try first, y/n-chan?” your boyfriend casually asks, eying the bright yellow pineapple flavor.

You nearly choke on your own spit.

“Wh-wha...Izaya, we need to get back to unpacking! P-put those away already,” you stutter out, stepping forward in an attempt to grab the pack from his hands, missing when he easily side-steps you and instead grabs your arm to pull you closer to his warm body. Your brain nearly short circuits when he leans forward to your left ear, hot breath leaving goosebumps along your neck as he murmurs.

“It’s important to take breaks, y’know,” he suggests calmly, like a doctor placating a panicked patient.

It works infuriatingly well and you find your whole body feeling like gelatin as you subconsciously relax in his hold.

“You like strawberries, right, y/n-chan~?”

You nod dumbly, thoughts too scattered to even think about what he’s really asking when his soft lips are just barely brushing the tip of your ear before his teeth offer a little nip that has your whole body shuddering. You’re brought back to your senses when you feel the arms he had snaked around your waist contract and pull up, gently placing you on top of the kitchen island.

“W-wait, we should go to the bedroom.”

Izaya seems unperturbed, fiddling with something behind you as his lips leave a trail of searing kisses along your neck. He doesn’t make a move to acknowledge your suggestion until you place your hands on his shoulders and attempt to push him off of you, at which he naturally doesn’t budge a single centimeter.

“Hmm? I’m in the kitchen because I’m going to eat something--I don’t see the problem.”

Something in the pit of your stomach flutters at the implication and you can’t find it in yourself to argue further. He disconnects from your neck and takes a step back only to tug at the bottom of your top. You raise your arms obediently, the action almost instinctive at this point, and he pulls your shirt off of your body, wasting no time removing your bra immediately afterwards. You immediately shiver at the sudden cold and would have moved your arms in front of your chest in embarrassment at how the brightly lit kitchen in midday leaves you feeling more exposed than usual but Izaya moves quickly and his lips are already back on your neck before you can ever react. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed a bowl of fruits next to you that you didn’t remember being there before. You think nothing of it and let your eyes flutter closed when Izaya’s lips finally find your right nipple, sucking the nub into his hot mouth without hesitation, making your spine tingle. Your hands move up to clutch his dark locks, desperate for something to keep you grounded but the action only spurs him on further and he lets out a soft groan as he swirls his tongue around before scrapping the sensitive flesh with his teeth. You yelp when he sucks harshly, back arching away only for his hands to keep your firmly in place. He pulls back, releasing the nipple with a small pop before he moves his attention to it’s twin. You feel lightheaded with the contrast of cold air nipping at the rapidly cooling saliva on your right nipple while the left one is subjected to the blazing heat of Izaya’s mouth.

His right hand remains secured on the small of your back while the left first around to tease the nipple not in his mouth, mimicking the actions of his tongue with his fingers as he rolls the hardened bud in tight circles before pinching which his teeth nip. Your thighs rub together as you feel wetness pool in your underwear and you briefly wonder if it's possible to reach an orgasm with nipple stimulation alone.

Before you can find out firsthand, Izaya releases both of your nipples and pulls back. You can’t help the small whine that escapes your lips at the loss when both nipples now feel cold and achy. He giggles at that, the gleam in his vermillion eyes seeming dangerous.

“Don’t worry, princess, Izaya-sama will take good care of you~” he childishly promises, a stark contrast to the nimble fingers now unbuttoning your shorts before gently pushing your shoulder back until you lay flat on the marble counter. The surface is cold and hard, uncomfortable on your back, but the heat between your legs takes priority over all other discomforts. You waste no time lifting your hips so he can slide the fabric of your shorts and panties down your legs at once, all usual inhibitions seemingly lost when your head feels so fuzzy.

Izaya’s large hands firmly plant themselves on each of your knees and spread them apart slowly, like he’s opening his own personal Christmas present, until your heels are pressed into the edge of the counter. You can feel the cold air on your folds and know you must be absolutely soaked but you can’t resist chancing a glance up at Izaya’s expression.

Big mistake.

You can see the hunger in his eyes as his gaze is glued to the space between your thighs, licking his own lips in anticipation. Your core clenches at the sight and you feel more slick leaking out of your hole. His eyes follow the movement before he glances up at your flushed face and offers a knowing smirk. You think your soul just left your body.

His left hand slides down from your knee to your inner thigh, thumb resting right at the junction between your leg and pelvis right his right hand moves directly to your folds, two fingers gliding easily along the slick lips before reaching your clit, causing your whole body to jerk at the light contact.

He rubs circles around your clit through the hood until whines and soft moans are spilling your lips, his other hand teasing your folds with just his thumb. All movement stops abruptly and he pulls his hands away but before you can even mourn the loss of stimulation, his thumbs are hooked into each side of your folds and pulling your cunt open before he’s ducking his head down and swiping his tongue along the wetness. The moan that leaves your throat sounds nearly pornographic but you find it difficult to care when the tip of his wet tongue moves up to flick at your clit a few times before sliding back down and circling your small hole.

Izaya is neat and organized in all other aspects of his life but every time he eats your pussy it’s absolutely messy. Rather than lapping up your wetness he drools around his own tongue, making it ever wetter until every movement releases obscene clicks and sloshing sounds. He pulls back only a few centimeters, retracting his tongue back into his mouth for a second. You watch with morbid fascination as he collects the saliva in his mouth only to purse his lips over your pussy and let the liquid slowly drip down directly into your twitching hole. It feels dirty, it is dirty, but you can’t deny the flutter in your gut and the way your core absolutely pulses in pleasure as you audibly whimper. He keeps you spread open as his tongue delves back in, thrusting in and out of you before returning to your engorged clit. His right hand releases its hold only to push his middle finger inside of you, an easy glide with excess liquids dripping down to the counter by now. With each inwards thrust his finger curls upwards, stabbing a part of your fleshy insides that make your vision bloom until the kitchen lights above you are starbursts and everything is swimming.

The next time he pulls his middle finger out he presses his ring finger beside it and both are pressing into you, providing the slight sting of a stretch that has you keening while your cunt eagerly accepts them. His lips wrap around your clit to harshly suck as his two fingers press into that same spongy part and you’re seeing stars. You feel a familiar pressure in the pits of your belly, building bigger and bigger with each thrust of his fingers and scrape of his teeth against your clit. You’re going to cum soon.

“I-ngh--Izaya,” you whimper out, struggling to form the words you need to express your warning.

It is pointless really, Izaya is already exceptional at reading body language, even more so yours. He only hums in acknowledgement, the vibrations further stimulating your clit and making you press your hips forwards, seeking more as you draw closer and closer to the finish line. Every muscle in your body seems to contract as you feel it coming, tensing up in preparation for the impending release.

That’s when he decides to pull away.

You aren’t sure whether to cry or punch him in the face when you feel your incoming climax completely disappear, leaving your clit still throbbing and your hole empty, hopelessly clenching and unclenching around nothing. Your eyes open to give him the strongest glare you can muster only for him to not even be looking at you, instead fiddling with something you can’t see from your angle. You open your mouth, ready to curse him out until the words die in your throat as you watch him bring the fingers of high right hand that were just inside of you to his own mouth, casually licking them clean. Your heart stutters in your chest.

“Hmm...ah, this one is perfect.”

Your brows furrow in confusion as he seems to make up his mind about something. You move to sit up but he’s already back between your legs, grinning down at you as if he hadn’t just robbed you of an orgasm.

His left thumb slides back to your clit, making you shudder as a flame seems to rekindle inside of you. He wastes no time to set a fast pace rubbing your clit, quickly bringing you back close to where you were before but not quite. Then you feel something blunt pressed against your whole, much larger than any of his fingers. For a moment you think it might be his cock but you don’t recall seeing him unbuckle his pants at any point and the cool temperature is nothing like his familiar heat.

The object is circled around your hole and you notice it feels really smooth...like latex.

“Wh-what is that,” you ask nervously. The two of you haven't used toys before and you don’t recall him ever mentioning owning any.

His grin widens, seeming amused by your apprehension.

“You wanted to try strawberry, right? Well, I prefer bananas so why not both.”

You scramble to sit up and nearly have a heart attack when you see the curved yellow object wrapped in neon pink pressed against your pussy.

“Izaya, th-thats…!”

“Strawberry and banana--its like a smoothie~,” he explains proudly.

A sudden pinch on your clit has your arms faltering and makes you fall back, yelping as your back reconnects with the marble.

“Now be a good girl, yeah? I need to take care of this poor pussy.”

You choke on your own saliva as he presses the covered tip of the thick fruit into you, slowly stretching your hole open with a sharp sting.

“It’s just begging to be filled,” he croons.

You feel the stretch of each centimeter as he pushes it in but Izaya is relentless and doesn’t let up on the pressure until the tip bumps into your cervix and your muscles are spasming uncontrollably as your mouth opens in a silent scream.

“It’s...big,” you stutter out dumbly, hardly even aware you’re speaking out loud.

Izaya feigns an innocently concerned expression as his left thumb continues to rub circles into your clit.

“Ehh~? Then we’ll have to make sure we stretch you open properly ‘cause my cock is even bigger.”

You instinctively clench as you feel him pulling it out slowly, never fully removing it before he’s pushing it back in. The residual wetness from earlier makes a resounding squelch every time he pushes it back in that has your cheeks burning in shame.

With each thrust the stretch stings less and less, aided by his teasing on your clit never faltering, and instead you feel the familiar pleasure of having something thrusting inside of you, rubbing against your slick walls. The natural curve of the fruit forces the tip to hook into a spot just before your cervix then dragging along the top of your walls as it’s pulled out only to repeat the motion. That same pressure in your lower belly returns but a little stronger and you think if Izaya denies your orgasm this time you might actually die.

Izaya however, does not offer any indications that he plans to do so and instead moves his left hand from your cit to push your right thigh higher, your knee nearly touching your chest, so he has room to lean down use his tongue instead, right hand still continuing to fuck the banana into you, gradually quickening his pace until it feels punishing and its almost too much. The battering of the tip against your cervix has your body trying to pull away but Izaya’s hand keeps you firmly in place, forcing you to accept whatever he gives you.

It’s when he uses his teeth to lightly nibble on your bud while simultaneously shifting the angle of fruit that your climax rips through your body, setting every nerve ending in your body on fire and rendering your eyes useless as white blinds your vision. Your mouth is open and sounds are coming out but you yourself can’t even process what you’re saying. Izaya continues his assault with vigor, making you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before the come down has you too sensitive and using what little remains of your strength to kick him away and attempt to close your legs.

You hardly have the strength to deny him of anything on a good day, let alone after an intense orgasm, but he seems to be feeling generous enough to stop when you say it's too much. He pulls his head away from between your thighs and you try to ignore the glistening juices dripping down the corners of his mouth and smeared on his chin as he slowly removes the banana from your fluttering pussy. You feel empty again and you can literally feel your stretched hole gaping, leaving you feeling embarrassed. Izaya dips down suddenly to press a single peck to your clit. You whine softly in over-sensitivity but the unexpectedly sweet gesture makes your chest feel warm.

As you attempt to catch your breath, Izaya moves away again, removing the sticky condom from the fruit and throwing it in the trash bin before placing the equally sticky banana back on the counter next to the fruit bowl. You’re about to make a complaint when he moves back to your side, smirking at your disheveled state and picking you up, one hand behind your back and the other beneath your knees, to carry you to the bedroom.

He places you on the freshly made sheets gingerly, your body immediately sinking into the plush mattress like a puddle. He leaves the room only to return a few seconds later with a plastic bottle of water and a paper pamphlet you recognize as the menu to one of your favorite takeout restaurants. Your brows furrow in confusion as he takes a seat next to you on the bed, silently skimming through the menu, undoubtedly already knowing what both of you will order.

Despite the heaviness in your lids and bonelessness of your body, you sit up to question the man.

“Izaya?”

His eyes shift over to you in question, his expression dangerously mischievous yet unreadable as usual.

“Aren’t you...don’t you need to, like...get off?” you cringe at how awkward and undeniably unsexy your words sound and you can see the mirth in his gaze but he decides to spare you the teasing for now.

“Aww, my little human is so eager to please her god~” he lilts.

You roll your eyes in response before squealing when he pulls you into his arms, forcing you both to lie back down on the bed, entangled in his arms while he teasing blows a puff of air in your left ear just to watch you squirm as you try to get away.

“Don’t worry, y/n-chan, I’m satisfied just watching you.”

Your chest swells and your annoyed expression melts into a small smile at the implication that he cared more about your own pleasure and exhaustion than his own needs--

“I never would have thought you’d enjoy getting fucked by a fruit so much~! Next time should we try a cucumber?”

You have zero regrets when you punch him in the chest.

#izaya x reader #durarara #durarara imagine #durarara scenario #izaya imagine #izaya scenario #reader insert #smut #durarara smut #izaya smut #durarara x reader #anime imagine #anime scenario #anime fic #durarara fic #forgive me lord for i have sinned #I just want Izaya to eat my pssy like that :(

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webslinger-holland · 4 years ago

Text

The Royal Family | Chapter Two

Summary: When two royal family’s decide to conjoin their countries, they arrange a marriage between their eldest children. Once the two royals meet, it takes a lot of convincing before they are ready to begin their reign together...

Warning: touchy subjects (marriage)

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Type: The Royal Family Series

MASTERLIST

The small pond was a bold jewel of living turquoise, flowing with the gentle and soft breeze in the night sky. The pond was the source of water to the growing weeds surrounding the edges of the pond. The surface of the small rippling waves were black in the late hours of the night. The reflection of the numerous white speckles of starlight were shimmering on the waves. The sky had vanished almost completely, leaving only a few fragments of white starling to remain. The air was rich and course.

The fragrance of the leaves was streaming through the atmosphere. The time of rain had passed many days ago. However, the rich brown soil had remained wet and damp. The sweet fragrance of wet dirt was lingering around the edge of the pond. The sound of the soft rippling waves of the water in the pond were creating a relaxing hypnotic melody.

The numerous toads and frogs were croaking in tune with the calming melody in the night. The little green crickets were hopping over the taller steam of grass in the field, singing their own little tune. The fireflies were creating brief little specks of yellow light, flying over the surface of the water in the pond. The entire forest was basking in the awkward silence of the night.

The young princess was currently standing in front of the full length mirror in her quarters. She had changed out of her clothes way too many times to count. She had pinched her cheeks so hard that she was finally able to see the natural red blush on her cheekbones. She did not seem to like the way her hair was falling over her shoulders. She just couldn’t make it look perfect.

Meanwhile, the six men had been standing and waiting in the entrance hall to the grand dining room. The two princes were discussing the likelihood of starting a card game (after dinner). The eldest prince had been talking to his personal assistant who was named Harrison. The two of them were carefully watching the grand staircase, waiting for the princess’s arrival. The two kings were currently standing on the sidelines.

“I deeply apologize for my dear daughter,” the King of the East said. He had just briefly looked down at the pocket watch in his hands. He pursed his lips together in thought. He could only wonder where she might be. “She is not usually this late,” the King of the East confessed.

“I take no offense,” King Dominic laughed. He was quick to wave his hand in dismissal. Though the King of the North did not have any daughters of his own, he did have a wife who would always take her dear sweet time getting ready for various occasions. He knew what it was like to have to wait.

“I am afraid that since there are princes in the palace, she will take her dear sweet time to get ready,” the King of the East replied. He was unaware of the fact that the eldest prince was listening to their conversation. He had turned his head to look towards the three princes, tipping his head to gesture towards them. He smiled at them.

In the background, the young prince had been lingering near the bottom of the staircase. He wasn’t able to look away from the grand staircase standing in front him. He was just waiting for the princess to grace him with her presence. He didn’t want to miss the moment where she came into view.

With some hesitation, Prince Thomas had turned his head to look at his personal assistant standing beside him. He had opened his mouth to ask him a question, but he couldn’t seem to find the right words to phrase it. He closed his mouth again to ponder his thoughts.

“What do you know about the princess?” Thomas wondered. He had forced himself to look back towards the grand staircase in hopes that he didn’t miss the princess walking down the stairs. But he still didn’t see her.

“Her father—the king—is the business man who has always dealt with government matters,” Harrison explained. He had been ordered to find background information on the other royal family. “He didn’t have time to deal with the public. So he appointed his daughter to be the public figure or the people person,” Harrison concluded.

“She meddles in those matters?” Thomas questioned. He was almost shocked and surprised that the princess would be interested in such an issue. He had never heard of a princess that bothered herself with politics.

“And she listens to them. She has been able to bring many of their problems to parliament so that changes can be made. There are some monarchs that care so little about their people,” Harrison confessed. “But she is different. She cares them. She is very well-loved by her people,” Harrison said with a small smile on his face.

“Has she had any suitors?” Thomas changed the subject. His voice was laced with the strong sense of curiosity. He had lifted his hand towards the side of his head, scratching his neck to hide his awkwardness. He was almost afraid of the answer.

“Plenty,” Harrison said with a firm nod of the head. He opened his mouth to breath out one long sigh. “It seems like every season her father is trying to marry her off to a prince from some far away land. He has been trying since she was fifteen,” Harrison added.

“Why doesn’t she have a suitor then? She could easily have any man in the world. She could steal their heart without a second to spare,” Thomas suggested. He was thinking long and hard about this, but it still didn’t make any sense to him. “Why hasn’t she taken a husband yet?” He pondered.

“Because she won't have any of them,” Harrison confessed.

Upon hearing those words, Prince Thomas could feel his heart dropping in the confines of his chest. He found himself wondering if he would suffer the same fate as the other princes. He was starting to doubt himself. He didn’t believe that he would ever be good enough for the princess. He almost felt hopeless.

The young prince could feel this strong sense of nervousness coursing through his entire body. He had quickly grown self-conscious of his evening attire. He could only wonder if he would make a fool of himself at the dinner table. He could feel a heavy lump lingering at the back of his throat. He was fiddling with his fingers in a nervous manner.

At the given moment, Princess Y/N had been walking through the long hallways of the palace. She had stopped to stand at the corner of the staircase. She poked her head around the corner, staring at the six men standing in the entrance hall. She pushed her back into the stone wall, running her fingers over the smooth material of her dress. She cleared her throat.

Very slowly, the young princess had pushed herself off the side of the wall. She had shifted to stand in the center of the staircase, stepping forward in her place to begin her descent. She had placed her hand on the smooth wooden railing so she could keep her balance.

Meanwhile, Prince Thomas had turned his head and looked towards the top of the staircase. He could feel his breath hitching in the back of his throat upon seeing the sight in front of him. His eyes had mindlessly scanned over the light pink material of her dress, basking in her beautiful appearance. His heart was fluttering at the sight of her, beating at a rapid pace. He couldn’t seem to look away from her.

Now Princess Y/N had shifted to stand at the bottom of the staircase. She had turned her head to look towards each of the princes and kings in her presence. She was quick to curtsy to them out of mere respect. She smiled at them.

“You look...” Prince Thomas’ voice had trailed off. He shook his head at her. He just couldn’t find the right words to express himself. He had opened his mouth again, but he was quickly cut off by the king’s remark.

“Absolutely beautiful,” the King of the East replied. He had found himself striding across the small stretch of the room, standing in front of his only daughter. He was sure to keep her at arms distance so that he could admire her beauty. He leaned forward to press one kiss to her cheek. “As always,” the King of the East claimed.

“I am so sorry to have kept you waiting,” Princess Y/N groaned. She was starting to feel that overwhelming sensation of embarrassment taking over her features. She had lifted her hand towards the side of her face, tucking a single strand of hair behind her ears timidly. She was blushing to herself.

“Nonsense,” King Dominic exclaimed. He was quick to wave his hand in dismissal. He didn’t seem to see any harm in her late arrival. He was just pleased that she showed up at all.

“Shall we?” The King of the East suggested. He had motioned towards the grand doors of the entrance hall with his hand, gesturing for his guests to enter the room. He had laced his arms with his dear daughter’s, leading her through the grand doors.

There were large silver platters holding fleshy pink strips of trout that had been garnished with dashings of green and brown herbs. There were large porcelain bowls filled with little clumps of white cheeses. A few platters of fowl were resting on the end of the long wooden table, emitting a savory smell throughout the entire room. There were a number of cooked oceanic creatures that had been drizzled into tones of warm sauces and spicy seasoning. The large gold pitchers were overflowing with the richest dark red wine in the land.

There were many large bowls containing the different types of creamy soups with a few green herbs floating on the top of the gooey substance. A large bowl of red pudding was resting in the center of the four wooden tables. There were a few bowls of peanuts, almonds, and walnuts on the side. And there were many bowls of fresh fruits, containing little leafs of mint on the top of the sweet or sour fruit.

The servants (footmen) were currently standing in a strict line. They had bowed their heads out of respect. The footmen were quick to step forward in their place, shifting to pull out the wood chairs for the royal family. However, at the very last second, Prince Tom had taken the place of one of the servants. The servant had awkwardly stepped back into the line (because he really didn’t know what else to do).

“Allow me,” Prince Thomas said. He stood behind the princess’s chair. He had pulled the wood chair out from underneath the table. He was quite the gentleman.

“Thank you,” Princess Y/N said with a small nod of the head. She had shifted to stand in front of the chair. She gripped the heavy skirt of her dress, gathering the material in her hands so that it was out of the way. She lowered herself into the chair without hesitation. She could feel him pushing the chair behind her.

Slowly, the young prince had made his way back to his own chair on the other side of the dinner table. He had tried to ignore the ‘all knowing’ looks coming from his two brothers. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks in slight embarrassment.

During the dinner, the two kings were able to discuss the matters of the peace treaty. The princess was eagerly listening to their conversation, but she wouldn’t dare say anything on the matter. She didn’t really like the whole concept of the peace treaty. She would be signing away her rights, land, and power to the other kingdom. And it was all because she was unable to inherit those things. It made her very sad to think about.

“I hear you like politics, princess,” Prince Thomas said. He had pulled her out of her thoughts. She had turned her head to look across the small stretch of the table, taken back by his choice of words. She nodded her head slowly.

“Yes. I do,” Princess Y/N confirmed. She had lifted her glass towards her soft pink lips, drinking the rich dark liquid in the glass. She was slow to lower her glass back down to the surface of the table. She cleared her throat awkwardly. “You must think me very undignified,” Princess Y/N said.

“On the contrary, I hold a higher respect for you now,” Prince Thomas claimed. He had lowered his gaze to stare down at the meat on his plate. He lifted the silver fork and knife to the tender meat, cutting through the meat with no effort. He sent a small smile towards her.

“You don’t think me unladylike for meddling in those matters?” the princess wondered. She was really taken back by his remark. She did not expect that kind of response from him. It made her think differently. “That is what most princes says about me. They say that I have no business dealing with those things,” the princess remarked.

“I don’t believe that at all,” Princess Thomas confessed truthfully. He had shook his head at her statement. He had lifted his head to look across the table, locking his gaze with her’s. He sent her a playful wink and a smile. “And I am not like most princes,” Prince Thomas corrected.

“No,” Princess Y/N smiled. “I can see that you are not.”

It was the next day. The lake-side air was pungent with the fragrance of blooming flowers. It was no natural basin filled with meltwater, but the luxury addition to a formal garden by an earl with both copious leisure time and money. The garden was blossoming with flowers and trees. The gravel pathway stretched throughout the gardens, weaving its way underneath the canopy of trees. It was springtime.

A small number of servants were ordered to maintain the garden nearly every other week. They picked out the various types of weeds, pruned the dead leaves from the trees, watered the growing flowers, and cleaned the pathway. In the end, the royal garden was flourishing with awestruck beauty.

Every morning, the princess would walk through the gardens. She would admire the colorful flowers and growing trees and bushy shrubs. With a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, she would walk throughout the garden on its pathway. She liked to see every single little aspect of the gardens. She was able to name practically every plant. She often liked to pick a few pink or white roses, crafting them into a beautifully woven crown. This day was no different from the rest of them.

The princess was currently sitting on a nearby bench. She was overlooking the small lake in the distance. She dropped her gaze to stare down at her hands, bunching the small collection of white roses together to make a little bouquet for herself. She closed her eyes to breath in the fresh morning air.

Unbeknownst to her, the young prince found himself walking throughout the gardens. He had laced his arms behind his back, aimlessly and mindlessly wandering throughout the gardens. He turned his head to look towards the bright blue sky hanging about him. He continued walking on the gravel pathway, weaving his way between the tall trees. He did not hesitate to round the corner of a shrub, stopping in his tracks at the sight before him.

His soft brown eyes had seen the young princess sitting on the bench in the distance. He could clearly see that she was looking in the opposite direction, so she had not been informed of his presence. He looked down at his shiny shoes, shuffling on his feet. He cleared his throat awkwardly to grab her attention.

“I-I...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Prince Thomas said. He had almost struggled to find the right words for himself.

“It’s quite alright,” Princess Y/N claimed. She stood to her feet. She was still holding the small bouquet of wild daisies in her hands. The prince had politely dipped his head down in acknowledgment and the princess curtsied to him. When they had both straightened their backs in posture, they had only shared a small silent moment together.

"W-Would you like to walk with me?" Prince Thomas wondered. He had turned his head to gaze at her with a quizzical look on his face. He fiddled with his fingers behind his back. He could only hope that she would agree.

The princess was slightly taken back by the prince's questions. The corners of her lips lifted into a soft smile. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. She quickly turned her head, hoping to hide the evident blush on her face. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts.

"I would love nothing more," the princess said with a small smile on her face.

In response, Prince Thomas had found himself straightening his back in posture. His shifted his forearm out to his side, offering his forearm for her to take. Hesitantly, Princess Y/N had decided to take one single step forward in her place. She laced her am with the prince's. The two of them had started walking down the pathway.

“Do you...like gardens?” Prince Thomas wondered. He had turned his head to look down at the princess walking beside him, waiting eagerly to hear her response. She nodded her head in confirmation.

“Yes,” the young princess replied. “My mother always loved to sit in the gardens. She would braid my hair and place wild roses into my hair, weaving it all together. It made me feel like a fair,” she confessed with a small blush on her face.

“What happened to her?” Prince Thomas questioned. There was a moment of silence. The young princess had just briefly halted in her steps for a second. She tried to collect her thoughts together.

"S-She passed away ten years ago," Princess Y/N said. "She died of a disease. There was no cure. My father was forced to sit back and watch the life drain out of her body. I was young at the time, but I can still remember the look on his face when the doctors told us that she had passed,” Princess Y/N admitted sadly.

"I-I'm sorry for your loss. I apologize for bringing that up. It was wrong of me. It was very impolite for me to do so. I am so very sorry," Prince Thomas apologized profusely.

"It is not your fault. That is just the way of life. But I still have my father," the princess replied. She was trying to remain positive. She had turned her head to look up at him through the corner of her eye. She just watched him nod his head in agreement.

The two royals were continuing their walk together in utter silence. It was almost like they were afraid to talk to each other. Eventually, Prince Thomas had turned his head and looked at the young princess beside him. He had decided to change the subject, hopefully to something less touchy. He opened his mouth to speak, finding himself lost for words.

"I-I suppose...you...have heard...about...the...arrangement," Prince Thomas said. He was afraid to say it. His voice was laced with the strong sense of uneasiness. He tried to turn his head to look down at her. He hoped to see some kind of reaction from her.

"What arrangement?" Princess Y/N asked dumbly. She didn’t even know why she had asked him that question. She already knew the answer to it. She knew exactly what he was talking about.

Hesitantly, the prince nodded his head in confirmation. He swallowed the lump in his throat and stopped in his steps, turning his body to face the small princess. They faced each other and looked into each other's eyes.

"I speak of the arrangement that will unite our two kingdoms with an arranged marriage. It will seal our future together,” Prince Thomas said. He had forced himself to swallow the heavy lump lingering at the back of his throat, clearing his throat awkwardly. He waited for her to speak.

"In that case...I was informed of our arrangement," the princess said. She dropped her gaze to stare down at her own feet, feeling the small sense of fearfulness in regards to the topic. "My father believes that this is the only option we have left. He hopes that we will become a couple that our subjects can’t help but admire and be proud of,” the princess claimed.

“I see,” Prince Thomas replied. He nodded his head understandingly.

"H-He thinks we would make a good pair," Princess Y/N piped up. She didn’t mean to stumble over her words. She might have just been trying to get a positive reaction out of him. She could clearly see the prince looking ahead of himself, humming softly in acknowledgment. "D-Do you....” the princess's voice trailed off.

"Do I what?" Prince Thomas wondered. He had turned his head to look down at the princess in question. The princess chewed the inside of her cheek nervously, contemplating on her next words. She was quick to lift her gaze to him, staring at him with hopeful eyes.

"D-Do you...do you agree? Do you agree to all of this? The arrangement? Our future together? Are you going to go sign the peace treaty?" the princess couldn’t seem to stop the questions from flying out of her mouth.

��Now, now,” the prince said, stopping in his steps.

He turned his body and faced the young woman standing in front him. His arms fell to his side once again. He could tell that she was nervous by the way she was fiddling with her fingers and chewing on her bottom lip. He knew that she was thinking too hard about this.

"I don't want to rush anything between us. If our fathers decide that we are to be married in order to save our kingdoms, then...then I will have to ask you to become my wife," Prince Thomas confirmed.

The young princess dropped her gaze to stare down at her feet, nodding her head understandingly. He breathed a small sigh under his breath. He had shifted to take one single step forward in his place, practically towering over the princess's small frame. They could tell that their faces were mere inches away from one another's.

“I care about my future kingdom. I care about the people and I care about the land. I want to rule the land and govern the people. If marrying you means that my kingdom will flourish, then I will not hesitate to get down on one knee,” the prince replied.

The princess was slightly taken back by the prince's comment. She found herself gazing at the prince in utter shock and surprise. In a way, the two of them were very similar. He was just as invested in the politics as she was. He was caring and sweet. He was worried about his future kingdom. He would do anything for his people group. He was loving and caring. It was something to admire in a future king.

"You’re just like...” she had laughed. Her face had dropped in a split second. Her words had faded into absolutely nothing. She could see the small smile growing on his face. Her voice was soft and gentle, coming out like a whisper. “...me.”

“I do not think we are so different after all,” Prince Thomas agreed with a short shake of the head. He could practically hear the wheels turning in her head, thinking about him different now.

“You care about your people group to an effect that you would not hesitate to marry a stranger. You...you would do anything for them,” Princess Y/N claimed with a look of confusion on her face.

"Yes," Prince Thomas said, nodding his head in agreement. "I-I am not a selfish prince."

"Nor will you be a selfish king,” Princess Y/N added. The prince took a small step forward until their chests were pressed together. The princess breathed a small gasp, marveling over the little distance between the two of them.

"This isn't about us anymore," the prince said, shaking his head. "This arrangement is about our land and people. It is about saving them from the raiders of the west. I would do anything for them. I would sacrifice anything to ensure their freedom."

“Even your own?"

There was a brief moment of silence. The prince could see the evident look of sadness in the princess’s shining eyes. He almost couldn’t respond to that question. He would give away everything with his answer. He blinked once.

"Yes. Even my own freedom," Prince Thomas breathed out, nodding his head in confirmation. He was able to maintain eye contact the whole time. His heart clenched at his own choice of words. "I would sacrifice my own freedom and happiness for them,” Prince Thomas confessed.

“I admire you,” Princess Y/N said with a small smile on her face. She had dropped her gaze to stare down at her feet. She found herself continuing to walk down the pathway leading in the garden. She could only wonder if the prince would follow behind her. “It’s a noble thing to do,” Princess Y/N added.

The prince had found himself turning his head to watch her retreating figure. He shifted his hands towards his frontside, fiddling with his fingers from his nerves. He was trying to find the right words to say to explain himself.

"I...I understand how you are feeling. I do truly,” Prince Thomas called to her. He could see her stop in her place. “I understand that you do not want to be forced into a marriage unwillingly. I understand that you do not want to be married to a stranger. I understand that you do not want any of this," Prince Thomas replied.

In response, Prince Thomas could clearly see the young princess dipping her head downwards to stare at the solid ground. He saw her shoulders shake slightly. He did not hesitate to walk towards her. He had stopped to stand beside her. When the prince had gotten closer, he could hear the small sobs coming out of her mouth. She lifted her hand to cover her mouth, hoping to contain her cries. She was embarrassed to be seen like this.

Slowly, Prince Thomas had shifted his hands to the sides of her arms. He turned her smaller body to face him, taking hold of her hands in his own. He held her hands close to their chests. She shook her head slightly, feeling the hot tears streaming down her face effortlessly. She couldn’t help the tears from coming. He had raised his hand, tapping her chin softly to gain her attention.

“It’s okay,” Prince Thomas said with a small smile on his face. He lifted his hands and cupped her cheeks. He used his thumbs to wipe away the tears streaming down her face. She smiled softly at his actions. “You don’t have to love me back,” Prince Thomas claimed.

"No..." the princess said, shaking her head in denial. "T-T...Thomas...it's not that. I-I-I didn't mean it like that. Please...don't say those kinds of things," she pleaded.

The corners of the prince's lips tugged into a soft smile. He rubbed his thumbs against her smooth cheeks reassuringly, wiping away the last of her tears. He was quick to capture her gaze once last time.

"I understand you," he said slowly.

Hesitantly, Prince Thomas had lowered his hands back down to his sides. He smiled softly at her. He leaned down to her height. He turned his head so that his lips were hovering right beside her ear. He softly whispered into her ear.

"Until our next meeting, my love.” the prince whispered. His voice was soft and gentle. His hot breath had sent shivers down her spine. He turned his head and pressed his lips against her cheek, kissing her softly. When he pulled away, he tipped his head down politely and saluted her farewell.

In that given moment, Prince Thomas had turned around and started walking away from his future spouse. The young princess could only watch his figure retreat back into the gardens. She was quick to turn on the heels of her feet. She started walking back towards the palace, thinking bout the words the prince said to her. She mentally cursed to herself for being so emotional in front of a stranger. Then again...he wasn't a stranger. He was going to be her future spouse, whether she liked it or not.

The table tops were filled with layers of the most delicious food and drinks, garnered to make ones mouth water in hunger. There were pheasants and goose, a bowl of roasted root vegetables, creamy sauces with garden herbs and best of all there are fresh tomatoes. They had huge platters of fowl stuffed with savoury fruit and nuts. There was a countless amount of different types of cheeses stretched across the table.

There were plates of deer with sprigs of rosemary threaded through its meat to give it more flavor. They had marinated chicken, grilled trout with lemon, smoked sausages and a pineapple glazed ham. There were mounds of fragrant wild rice, potatoes and diced pumpkin smeared with butter and spices baked on hot stones. There were baskets of cheese and crackers with bread rolls shaped like seashells on the side. There were all sorts of varieties of salads and side dishes.

The two royal families were gathered around the table. They were consuming the various courses brought out to them on beautiful china dishes. The finest wine was poured into the delicate wine glasses. The servants were dressed in their best attire for the glorious occasion.

“Ah,” Prince Thomas said. He leaned over slightly for the servant to reach behind him to pour more wine into his glass. The servant finished pouring the wine, quickly shifting to stand back in the line of servants. “Thank you,” Prince Thomas said with a nod of the head.

The royal families’ voices had faded into absolute nothingness in the princess’s mind. She did not seem to care about the conversation tonight. She was sorrowfully looking down at her plate full of food, shifting some of the vegetables around aimlessly with her utensils.

The prince lifted his head and looked at the young princess sitting on the other side of the table. His lips formed a tight lined smile as he gazed at her helplessly. The twin brothers of the prince leaned towards each other, whispering to each other discreetly.

"Do you see how he is looking at her?" Prince Harry asked with a hinted smirk on his face. They sent each other a teasing look, smiling evilly to themselves.

"He can't seem to look away from her," Prince Sam claimed. He had to force himself to stifle a laugh. The young princes had placed their hands over their mouths, stopping themselves from laughing out loud.

“Still,” Prince Harry said. He had just tipped his head to gesture to the young princess sitting across the table from them. “Have you seen her? You can’t really blame him. She is absolutely beautiful,” Prince Harry confessed.

"D-Do you think they'd make a good pair? Do you think they would be good for each other? Do you think they could find a way to...even love each other?" Prince Sam questioned. He turned his head and looked at his brother with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“They are not as different as you might think. They probably share some similar interests, thoughts, and ideas." Prince Harry said. "I am sure that—in given time—they might find a way to love each other. I cannot know for sure. We can only hope," Prince Harry added.

"Hmm," Prince Sam said, humming in agreement. The two princes both leaned back in their chairs again. The two of them had turned their heads and looked across the small stretch of the table, locking their eyes on their older brother. He couldn’t seem to stop looking at her, gazing at her magnificent beauty in the candlelight.

When the young princess looked up, their gazes met for a brief second. In response, Tom quickly turned his head and looked away from the young woman sitting across the table from him. He could feel the blush creeping onto his face, heating his ears until they turned beet red. She had just caught him staring at her. She couldn’t deny that she felt a small blush creep onto her own face as well.

The kings stood to their feet. They placed their napkins onto the top of the table. The two of them had turned to head towards the sitting room. The others would follow behind them, standing to their feet and shifting towards the grand doors.

The young prince had stayed back. He waited for the others to leave the room. He quickly stepped forward and grabbed onto the princess’s forearm, stopping her. She whipped her head around to look at the young prince in question.

“W-Would you care to accompany me?” Prince Thomas wondered. His voice was laced with the strong sense of uncertainty, fearing her reaction.

“I-I’m not sure,” Princess Y/N confessed. The prince released his grip on her arm. He dropped his hand back down to his side. He nodded his head understandingly, shifting to take a single step backwards so he could give the princess her much-wanted space.

“We are not so different after all. We have a lot in common with each other,” Prince Thomas said. He was trying to reason with her and trying to get on her good side. He didn’t want her thinking badly of him.

“I am sure we do,” Princess Y/N agreed wholeheartedly.

“I think...that if we spend more time together, we might see eye to eye with each other. We might be able to relate to each other in a way that is no so bad. In time...you may find a way not to despise me so much,” Prince Thomas said.

“I do not despise you. I never had,” the princess claimed. She shook her head in denial. “And I do not hate you either. I believe that you are a good man. I think your intentions are clear. You want what is best for your people. I understand that now. And I do agree with you. Maybe if we spend some time together, we may grow to like each other a little more. In the end, this whole marriage may not be such a bad thing,” she said, shrugging her shoulders slightly.

“And maybe...in given time...you might be willing to learn lo...love me back,” Prince Thomas wondered. His dark brown eyes were sparkling with the strong sense of hopefulness. He could see the small smile growing at the corners of her lips.

The princess would be willing to give this whole marriage a try. She was willing to try to work this out. She was willing to try and love her future spouse. She was willing to try and make their marriage work. She was willing to try altogether. And that would be enough for the young prince.

“I do really like you,” Prince Thomas confessed.

“You flatter me too much,” the princess said. She was fiddling with her fingers in a nervous manner. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. The corners of the prince’s lips tugged into a soft smile as he gazed down at her.

“I am certain that any man would be more than lucky to call you his wife. And I...I-I get to have that privilege. I get to have you all to myself. I get to call you my wife. I get to call you mine,” Prince Thomas said. His eyes were full of love and admiration.

They found themselves leaning closer and closer to each other until their faces were mere inches away from one another’s. The prince’s brown eyes had flickered between the princess’s shining eyes and pink lips. She swallowed the lump in her throat, gazing at the dashing man standing in front of her. Their noses gingerly brushed against one another’s. They breathed a small breath of air, preparing themselves for the next part. Until...

“Come on you two lovebirds. We are going to play cards together,” Prince Harry said. He had stepped into the middle of the hallway. The two royals were quick to pull away from each other. They could feel the heat rising to their cheeks as they turned away from one another. The other prince raised his eyebrows suspiciously. He glanced between the two of them. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No,” the princess blurted out. “No. You didn’t interrupt anything.”

“Alright. Should I deal you two in then,” Prince Harry wondered. He lifted his hand to show them a small stack of cards. The two of them had nodded their heads in response. The young prince had disappeared into the other room, dealing the cards between the separate guests.

The prince turned his head and looked down at the young princess standing at his side. She was quick to catch his line of sight, gazing into the prince’s dashing brown eyes. He lifted his forearm to her, offering it to her. She laced her arm with his. She smiled at him.

“Shall we?” Prince Thomas asked with a small smile on his face. He sent her a playful wink. She pushed her lips into her mouth, hiding the evident smile on her face. She nodded her head in agreement.

“We shall.”

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #tom holland oneshot #tom holland imagine #tom holland series #tom holland royalty #tom holland!royal #tom holland!king #tom holland!prince #tom's princess

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parkersharthook · 4 years ago

Text

Fashion Headcanon

the fashion hc that no one asked for... (think college age)

Aang

Aang is all about comfort mixed with practicality and a hint of fashion/trendiness

Most days you’ll find him in athletic shorts or sweatpants in neutral tones like gray or white, with a plain tee

He also lives in his yellow high tops that are more dirt than yellow at this point. They’re super worn in and comfortable for him now, but it’s unusual to see him without them

But when he needs to dress up for events or dates or whatever, he likes to look nice but still casual

His idea of dressing up would be khaki pants (maybe joggers for casual dates) with a white button down/polo

One time he showed up to an event in his yellow converse so Katara got him some nice brown dress boots so he has /options/

You’ll also never find him in any cool tones, he loves warm colors (yellows, oranges, reds)

He’s overall a pretty happy and chill guy and that reflects in his clothing but he still has a grasp on what is acceptable in certain situations and definitely dresses appropriately

For the most part he just looks really snuggly and soft

Katara

Katara also really values comfort but she takes a little more pride in her appearance

For everyday wear she’ll usually wear jeans of some kind (usually distressed and mom style) but she’ll still look put together

If she’s wearing her blue jeans, she’ll pair them with a loose band tee that’s either cropped, tied in the front, or tucked in precisely (she loves showing the waist of her pants)

If she’s wearing black/white jeans, she’ll wear a blue shirt. She prefers navy and darker tones of blue but she has a quite a few in pastel as well

Sometimes the shirts are just tshirts, but sometimes they’re a little tighter and trendier to help her dress up the outfit

For the most part she lives in her doc martens, and she finds them to be both practical and adorable

However for fancier events she pops off

She’ll dress up in satin dresses that are navy and fall just below her knee or will wear white corduroy skirts with cute flowy tops

She has platform sneakers for when it’s not too fancy but she also has a lot of heels and sandals in neutral colors

Even though Katara does like to look good, because it makes her feel good, she isn’t too overly worried about her appearance

However in most people’s eyes, she never looks bad and walks with an effortless beauty that makes all her outfits look great

Sokka

Sokka lives for practical clothing

He wears basketball shorts almost every day (unless it’s cold and then he wears sweatpants) with a hoodie or plain tee

While he’s not out naked, he definitely doesn’t really put that much effort into his day to day look

But honestly he doesn’t really need to because Sokka is a hottie who wows everyone he meets

But he also works out a lot and works with his hands, so practical clothing is generally the only thing he thinks is appropriate

When he’s working on something a little more hands on, he’ll wear denim to protect his skin and he doesn’t really care if they get ruined, because they’re his work pants

However when he dresses up… he is a stunner

He’ll wear form fitting pants that show off his toned thighs and butt. They’ll usually be either dark blue or black dress pants

He pairs that with a usually white (occasionally a lighter blue or black) dress shirt that is typically rolled up to his elbows but that’s good because his forearms

Despite the fact that he usually wears sneakers or boots every day, his shoe collection is pretty impressive because he’s a prepared man. So he wears nicer polo shoes or low cut brown boots to pull together the look

People never really expect Sokka to look as fine as he does at those events, because they’re used to seeing him very casual and comfy

But even though people think Sokka doesn’t care about his appearance, he does… he just doesn’t like to waste time on work/school days when he could sleep a little more

But when he can actually get dressed up, he kinda lives for it

For the most part, Sokka dresses how he pleases and doesn’t let others tell him what to do with himself

But he’s comfortable in his style and in his skin which makes him confident

Toph

Toph grew up with overbearing parents who dictated how she dressed, and so when she began to live on her own she really wanted to explore other styles and options

For a while she experimented with casual fancy styles like sundresses and skirts and such. And honestly she really likes them and thinks they’re cute, but not for day to day

She then evolved into more of a skater, tomboy look which she really rocks

She has a wide range of jean, khaki, and athletic shorts that she pairs with simple shirts

Her shirts are usually band tees, or plain colors and she really likes earth tones

She has likes oversized outerwear, like big flannels, hoodies, or bombers that kind of swallow her frame

She prefers shorts but when she wears pants, it’s usually sweatpants or yoga pants. She doesn’t like her bottoms to be too tight and restricting because she likes to have full range of motion, so if they’re tight they have to be stretchy

Also she kicks the bottom of all her shoes out so she can see (yes bending exists here and she’s blind bc I say so), but she mainly wears canvas sneakers like vans or low converses

Because she experimented early on with her outfits, when she has to dress up she really likes casual sundresses

Sometimes she’ll wear a jean skirt, but none of her dresses or skirts will be tight

She’s not necessarily trying to hid her body/curves but she’s just so much more comfortable in loose/flowy clothing and it still looks really good on her

Even at fancier events, she’ll wear sneakers because sandals don’t really work without bottoms and heels are a fat no

She has “nicer” sneakers that she keeps clean for those events but for the most part she has an excuse and a comeback to anyone who tries to diss her shoes

Like Sokka, she’s pretty comfortable in her clothing and doesn’t put too much effort into it

However, because of all the years she spent with her parents where she had zero options, it isn’t uncommon to see Toph trying the newest trends as soon as they come out, to see if she vibes with them or not

Zuko

Like Toph, Zuko was also forced to dress in a certain way due to his familial upbringing

In contrast though, he found a way to express himself through his clothes while still fitting into the expectations placed on him

Zuko lives in dark clothes. The only sense of color he has are dark red shirts/hoodies, one pair of grey sweatpants, and a deep navy shirt he stole from Sokka

Everything else is black

But that doesn’t mean they’re all boring and the same

A lot of his clothing has small details woven into the seams which shows that Zuko puts a lot of effort into the clothing he puts on

He mostly wears black jeans but he has a huge range of styles including skinny, distressed, boyfriend, baggy, and straight legged

He tends to focus on the bottom half more, styling his outfit around his pants and then pairing a simple tee

Kinda imagine an eboy vibe but more chill

He wears converses, vans, or other flat sneakers for the most part

When he needs to dress up, he still sticks to dark tones

His go to is black dress pants that are pretty tight and either a black or red button up

He has a few suits from growing up but he loathes them with a passion and prefers to look casual when dressing up

Zuko likes to put effort into his appearance because it helps channel his energy and he thinks that if he looks presentable, people will be less likely to judge him on his past or his scar

He gets pretty self-conscious and insecure when he tries new things, and it’ll take him a while to expand his closet into other styles

He’s comfortable with his look and he isn’t too keen on trying new things but he isn’t completely opposed

Suki

Suki, much like Katara, has this look of effortless beauty

However for her, she does put effort into her outfit pretty much everyday

She also wears earth tones for the most part, but her closet does have a large variety

On the day to day she’ll wear skinny jeans, yoga pants, or athletic shorts with a cute top

Though her clothes aren’t that fancy, she matches them all really well and her makeup is always impeccable

Her top selection is bigger and is made up of mostly cropped tees and tighter crop tops

However, her guilty pleasure is large sweaters and hoodies that she’s stolen from her guy friends and it’s pretty common to find her styling those with jeans and cute shoes

She also has a pair of red high tops, that much like Aang, she has worn down to the point where they’re more dirt than anything

And while she doesn’t wear them every day, they’re definitely a staple in her closet

But suki honestly lives for platform sneakers, they don’t have to be super tall but anything that gives her a little lift makes her that much more confident

When she dresses up, she shares a lot of the same styles with Toph

She really likes sundresses with sneakers, or rompers with sandals

However when she really has to get fancy, she’ll wear longer dresses that fall below her knee or all the way to the floor with a pair of heels and she’ll be feeling herself

Suki is overall pretty adventurous with her outfits, but she also knows what she likes

She’ll try the new trends and take suggestions from her friends, but she’s also not scared to say no and go comfy yet put together for a day

She’s one of those girls that kinda looks great in everything and people really wish they had her closet but half the time she’s borrowing things from friends to piece together outfits

Yue

Yue loves clothes

Simple as that

She grew up with money, but without the overbearing parents and she’s always had an affinity for dressing up and following the new trends as well as the older ones

She finds that waking up and making herself look good, gets her ready for the day and helps put her into the right headspace

She also lives for light pastels, typically of the cooler hues but sometimes she’ll venture into the pinks and reds

On the day to day she’ll wear either light blue or white bottoms (you name it: skirts, shorts, pants, whatever) and a plain shirt

A lot of her clothing has lace on it, it’s just something that Yue really likes

And all the light colors look amazing against her dark skin

She wears chunky sneakers or flats mostly, because they’re cute but also comfortable to walk in

She also usually has an accessory, whether it be a purse, sunglasses, or a cute bandana, she likes to add little things that pull her outfit together

She definitely looks better than most on the day to day because she really enjoys looking nice

However she still has the skill of not looking overdressed

When she dresses up, she looks ethereal

Like Katara, she likes satin and silk a lot because it’s comfy and soft and often falls effortlessly

She tends to wear dresses that are just at her knee or are tea length, and doesn’t really like floor length dresses

The only really short stuff she wears are her skirts and shorts

She also really likes heels when she’s dressing up, and a slit in her dress to show off her legs

She’s super confident in her style and definitely loves finding inspiration from her friends, strangers, magazines and wherever she can find it

She also always looks amazing, even when she is dressed casually

Azula

Surprisingly, Azula isn’t really that flamboyant with her style

She likes simple looks like jeans and tshirts or a simple dress

She, like Zuko, wears darker colors but has a plethora of pink in her wardrobe because of TyLee

On the day to day she’s often wearing simple black jeans, a band tee or just a hoodie with doc martens

People find it surprising because Azula comes across as a big personality, and she definitely is around her friends, but she just isn’t that interested in fashion

She prefers to focus her energy and time on self-care like her nails, hair, and skin

Both Mai and TyLee are into fashion so Azula does let them dress her up and down for fun, but for the most part she’s pretty simple

For dressing up, she’s very simple

She’ll wear either a black or red dress, usually that falls just above or just below her knee

She likes a straight neckline but has few options (strapless, halter, etc)

And she’ll pair the dress with a simple black heel, not too many straps

She does like tall heels, it helps with her confidence, but they aren’t very flashy

Despite her basic style, she does understand the importance of looking presentable and doesn’t usually wear baggy clothing

She’s found a pretty good balance between casual, basic, but still presentable

basically she doesn’t need a boisterous closet because she is very talkative and loud with her friends, so she doesn’t feel the need to overcompensate with her clothing or anything

Mai

in complete opposite to Azula, Mai LOVES showing her personality through her clothes

she isn’t very talkative and instead likes to show her mood with her outfits

though she does wear dark colors, she’ll experiment with others

when she’s feeling sad, she covers up. She likes long sleeves, even if they are mesh or transparent, and long jeans with boots

She’s a slut for peasant sleeves (but I mean… me too)

when she’s happy, she’ll wear red or pink. She’ll stick with either jeans or a jean skirt that’s dark but she’ll pair it with a baggy dusty pink or vibrant red shirt that she tucks in. she’ll also wear trendier sneakers on those days (but they’ll probably still be boots)

when’s she’s feeling really good or adventurous she’ll dress more colorful. The style itself is pretty basic: jeans and a shirt, but she’ll wear her blue mom jeans. She’ll pair it with her purple doc martens and a white shirt with a different colored jacket

however it’s the days that she wears sweats, leggings and hoodies that she receives the most attention. The attention is always from her friends because on those days, she’s either feeling very comfortable in her surroundings and they want to talk to her, or she’s had a shit day and they want to help her feel better

when dressing up, she likes to wear black with fun accents like buckles or ribbons or fun sleeves or zippers or lace or anything like that

she’s pretty tall, so she doesn’t often wear heels but she’ll wear fishnet tights and tuck them into some boots or she’ll wear flats

she does tend to wear clothes that are tighter and then pair them with baggy outerwear to offset the outfit

she does wear a lot of boots but she has them in a bunch of different colors for every emotion and outfit

people are pretty envious of her wardrobe and while she doesn’t really talk and isn’t that confident in herself, she’s always been sure of her style

she also really enjoys dressing her friends up and swapping styles to try to make new outfits

TyLee

TyLee also loves clothes

she’s pretty girly and used clothing from an early age to set herself apart from not only her sisters but also from society

in today’s terms she’d be a soft girl with a hint of vsco

there’s a lot of pinks, reds, purples, whites, and other pastels in her wardrobe

she tries to avoid dark tones because she thinks they wash her out

she’s also very bubbly and upbeat for the most part and likes to convey that in her outfits

she wears a lot of tennis skirts, plaid skirts, paper bag shorts, and other stuff that kinda looks like it came from a teen movie

she doesn’t really like pants but if she does wear them, they’ll be loose and typically have a paper bag waistline

and they’ll definitely be high waisted no matter what

her tops are typically crop top tanks or fuzzy sweaters that are just a tad too big

she also really likes to wear long cardigans and sweaters that fall below her hemline

every day she wears a white shoe

they’ll either be chunky sneakers, vans, sandals, high tops, or something else but they’ll definitely be white

people really don’t know how she keeps them clean

when she dresses up, she’ll wear tighter clothes but then offset them with a long or bigger jacket and sneakers

she hates heels

she thinks they are so uncomfortable and prefers sneakers or sandals

TyLee does like trying new stuff but she’s also really comfortable with her current style and isn’t that interested in trying a whole ton of new stuff

she also really likes dressing other people up, both in her own style and in theirs

she’s pretty confident in her clothes but her insecurities definitely bleed through sometimes, but she always tries to be happy no matter what and that definitely comes through in her clothes

hehe that’s it :)

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mother-snake · 4 years ago

Note

Angst? Angst! So Nico has met all the sides except for one, Janus. Why? Because Janus is self conscious of his scales (and has maybe internalized some of the past "evil villain snek boy" opinions the others originally had of him??) and he is afraid he will freak out/disgust Nico and ruin Thomas' change at happiness. (+ maybe a happy ending?)

um...well. ^-^ tags: @idkanameatall words: 1631 warnings: angst and a panic attack (pls tell me if i need to add!)

-a dangerous feeling-

Maybe Janus was overthinking things again. But after finding out that Nico could in fact see the sides… he hadn’t been as active outside. He of course still added his opinion into conversations. But he didn’t dare show himself in front of Nico.

Thomas had been happier since he had begun to date. And that’s what made Janus so afraid of showing himself. he had been welcoming of the others, he had enjoyed Patton's jokes, logans smarts and romans ability to think creatively.

He had also met Remus and Virgil. But not Janus. He was yet to meet the scaled side. And it was that exact reason. would he be scared by the way he looked. Would it frighten him away from Thomas?

So, Janus had decided that he wouldn’t show up unless absolutely necessary. now he was curled up in his room. Lying in his bed trying to block out some of the thoughts that fluttered around in his mind. He missed talking to Thomas, he was able to give him a distraction most times. Even if it was just a small game of chess every now and then.

But right now, Nico was over for a movie date. Meaning he wouldn’t be able to leave just yet.

He let out a long sigh and flung the fluffy sheets of and stood up. maybe a cup of tea would help calm down his nerves. he picked up his cape and hat before leaving his room. A habit he would never let die. He loved both objects too much to let go.

He made his way down the hall, passing the brightly coloured doors. Ah, that would be annoying in deed. He had missed lunch once again. He wouldn’t be surprised if Patton didn’t scold him for missing yet another meal.

As he entered the kitchen, he found that there was no one there, that had surprised him greatly. But a plate caught his attention. A sandwich and some grapes sat lonely with a post-it he could only guess were from Patton. a warm feeling flooded his chest. but he quickly put it out. they were only playing nice. They didn’t care, of course they didn’t. but as he read what was written he found it so much harder to put out the spark of hope.

If you need to talk, our doors are open -Patton

He folded the post-it and placed it delicately into his pocket to join the others in the small jar by his bedside.

A small tugging feeling emerged in his chest, but he quickly shoved it away. he knew that Thomas was okay. He didn’t need him yet.

Another tug came, this one was coming from one of the sides. But once again he shoved it back down as he grabbed the plate, as he nibbled at a grape.

A wave of tiredness seemed to wash over him as he made his way to the commons, forgetting about the tea he was planning to make. much to his surprise he caught Patton just as he was beginning to rise up from being outside.

“Janus! There you are, why aren’t you coming?” he asked concerned as he made his way closer to the semi-startled side. “Thomas doesn’t need my assistance right now. I don’t wish to appear either,” Janus said as calmly as possible. “for some reason. I don’t believe what you just said,” Patton said sternly, his voice laced with worry.

“is this about Nico?” Janus froze still, “Janus?” “don’t worry about its Patton,” he said weakly as he sunk down and back to his room, leaving a very concerned father figure behind. --

Patton sunk down and back with the other side. His heart heavy from his talk with Janus. he plastered a smile on his face as he appeared in the living room where the sides, Thomas and Nico were gathered.

“is Janus joining us this time?” Nico asked as he looked at Patton. “no… it’s concerning me,” Patton said, his smile fell as he rubbed his arm. “why? What happened?” Thomas said. “he was trying to hide something. But when I brought up Nico, he seemed to freeze in place,” he said. “does he not like me? could that be the reason?” “no! as far as we know, he’s actually happy that you and Thomas are together,” roman said. “is there a way to summon him so that he needs to come out? I think I should talk with him,” Nico asked.

The sides began to think… they hadn’t thought about doing that. “yeah, if all of us summon a side at once, they can’t ignore us all,” Remus said. --

Janus had gotten halfway into his sandwich when he felt the tug, then another. And then he could feel all the sides.

He felt panic rise in his chest as he unwillingly sunk out. he didn’t even realise he was in the Livingroom. His vision had gone blurry. He couldn’t seem to breath. His mind had begun to race as he felt himself fall to his knees in the panic.

“Janus!” a voice called out to him. but he didn’t hear. He couldn’t be here, he would scare Nico away. “Janus, can I touch you?” the voice was soft and welcoming, he couldn’t tell who it was. he nodded, and felt someone reach up to his arms, he hadn’t realised he had begun to tug on his hair.

The touch had helped, but barely. “-two, three, four- “he heard in his panicked state. he began to repeat what he was hearing.

And slowly, he found himself coming back to reality. There in front of him was Virgil, dark eyeshadow darker than normal. “are you feeling better?” he asked as he backed away slightly, giving Janus some room.

“sorry,” he muttered, avoiding eye contact. “Janus, right?” a voice asked from behind Janus, making him freeze up once again.

Virgil shifted to the side revealing the one person Janus had been trying to avoid. he held his breath as he watched Nico get closer before sitting down next to Janus. “are you okay?” he asked, the worry in his eye had caught Janus off guard. he looked away and gave a small nod.

He watched Nico look around before standing up and picking something off the floor. Janus felt something plant on his head, he felt a small bit of relief. He hadn’t realised his hat had fallen off. “thank you,” he muttered.

He shakily stood up with the help of Virgil. “well, if I am not needed, I best be going,” Janus said. “wait- “Nico yelped, causing Janus to stop, “stay,” he said simply with a smile.

Janus felt surprised at his words. Why would he want him to stay. “what?” he asked, dumbfounded. “I… would like you to stay, if you don’t mind,” he said.

Janus found himself at a loss of words. Why wasn’t he scared. Why wasn’t he frightened? He looked over to where the sides were gathered. Each on of them sending a reassuring smile his way.

And for the first time. He didn’t put out the small spark… a weak smile appeared on his face. “very well then,” he said.

He let his smile grow as the sides, Thomas and Nico let out a small cheer. “is it okay if I ask you some questions about your scales? I'm rather intrigued by them,” Nico asked, his eyes sparkling. “not too many, I hope you don’t mind,” Janus “of course,” Nico said happily.

And that’s how the evening continued on. a movie played in the background as Nico whispered questions to Janus.

The sides had taken their turns glancing over to where Janus was sitting. Each one of their hearts warmed as they saw Janus interacting with Nico.

The two of them getting along rather well. Virgil hadn’t seen Janus so happy in a long time. He hadn’t even realised his eyeshadow had turned that violet colour it had begun to do recently and once a long time ago. and much to everyone’s disappointment. The evening had soon come to a close. With Nico needing to go home.

Janus felt his heart sink at that realisation. as every side said their goodbyes. He gave a small nod. “hope to see you next time Janus,” “indeed Nico,” he said with his signature smirk. --

Thomas turned to look at Janus as Nico left for the night. “well… did you enjoy meeting Nico Janus?” Thomas asked. “if you break up with him, “Janus began, “I will personally make your life so much harder,” he said before sinking down with a wink.

Remus let out a cackle, “that’s snake faces way of saying yes tommy.” --

Janus let out a sigh of relief as he arrived back in his place on the common’s sofa, where he had been sitting beforehand. His sandwich left in its place. He reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out the small yellow piece of paper. he picked up the plate and made his way to his room.

He would most likely end up taking a nap. And that he did. But was awoken by Patton calling him down for dinner. And for the first time since being accepted, he didn’t refuse to join.

The warm feeling in his chest brightening as he was led by Patton who was almost pulling him along muttering happily.

And if tomorrow Thomas went out to meet up with Nico, he would summon Janus and the three of them would talk, nothing would be wrong. Janus may slip up with his lies, but Nico would only smile and wait for him to correct himself. yeah. He would definitely give Thomas hell if he broke up with Nico. That was certain.

#janus sanders #thomas sanders #ts spoilers #sander sides #remus sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #ts nico #i hope this is what you were after #i wrote this in an hour and i realy think it went well #angst #fluff #happy ending

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yandere-ac · 5 years ago

Text

Yandere Barold X Reader

Baggage

So yeah, this happened. I read @yanderebliss prompt about ugly villagers and got a bolt of inspiration at 2 am. And now this exists. So ...enjoy

Reject, outcast, mistake, ugly. These are all things that he had heard plenty of times. Oh, the so familiar sight of seeing someone walk up to him on a deserted island, take one quick look at him, then dash off without even giving him as much as a hi. It wasn’t uncommon, yet it still hurt every time it happened. He was well aware that he was...less than “desirable” but at this point he had just given up. He had given up on the idea that someone, ANYONE would ever want him in his village.

The only times he did move in was when another villager had moved out and he himself had bought the empty lot. But that want much better. Anytime he’d finally find a place to call his own he’d get harassed on a daily basis. Weather that be giving him trash, punching him around or even beating him over the head with a net, any island representatives would in some way abuse him until he’d say “enough is enough” and move away.

But...for some reason, he still saved up nook miles to buy tickets. He still went on the flights that would take him to those cursed island trips. Even if he had completely given up, there was still some small part of him that held out hope. A hope that one day, someone would see him and not turn around. So far, he hasn’t met a single person that even seemed to consider taking him in...that was...until he met you...

Wandering around a beach, picking up pretty shells and being in his own world, Barold didn’t notice as you approached him. When he met you, the two of you had a lovely conversation, talking about where you came and who you were. At this point, he was struggling so hard to control his breathing, someone was actually interested enough to talk to him? Truly, he wasted no time with dropping hints about him wanting to move somewhere. This was it, this was the moment where he sees if he’s indeed unlovable...or if beauty lies in the eye of the beholder...

When I tell you this man almost fainted when you happily replied “you should move to my island!”. Barold almost stared crying tears of joy (but he held it in, the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off). It took al his willpower not to scoop you up into his arms into a big embrace. He finally had found someone who wanted him! After years of torment! After years of abuse! No longer would he have to move from island to island, now he had a stable home. With a representative that didn’t care what he looked like!

It wasn’t until the next day when he where unboxing all of his stuff that he would be able to get a good look at you. It was around 10 am when you knocked on his door, wanting to say hello to your newest villager. You were the first to admit, you had a soft spot for the “ugly” villagers. Anytime your friends would visit your island you were always bombarded with the same questions. “But they’re so ugly” “wouldn’t you rather want someone cute like Raymond or Audie?” “Why would you waste space for such villagers?”

You really didn’t care what anyone said. No villager deserves such cruel treatment like getting hit with a net or being bombarded with trash! Anytime you saw an “ugly” villager, you made sure to strike up a conversation with them. And so, when we they asked to move in, you were more than happy to accept! Right now you were going to greet your new friend, Barold! You didn’t care what he looked like. But the thing about Barold was, yesterday when you had invited him, he had been to excited to really notice anything about you. The fact that you had even invited him in the first place showed him what a big heart you had.

But then, when you had entered his house the next day, JUST to greet HIM?! That’s when it dawned on him, you where one of the sweetest people he’d ever met. He could feel his face heat up as you gave him a reassuring smile whilst talking to him. It made him feel something he’d never thought he’d ever feel. Infatuation? Desire? Fondness? Whatever it was, he liked it, and he wanted more. He wanted to continue talking with you. Even after you had left, all he could think of was you, your hair, your clothing, your face, your smile. Oh god that smile, it made him so warm and fuzzy just to think about. He’d made up his mind, as soon as he’s done with his packing, he’s gonna visit you!

That was months ago, over those past months you and Barold had grown closer and had drifted apart. Well more or less. You see, at first. You and Barolds friendship was pretty healthy, you were hanging out a lot and you seemed to have a positive effect on his life. After so many years of abuse, his self confidence was extremely low. Anytime he’d feel self conscious, you’d be there to reassure him. And for a while, it seemed to have a really good effect on him. But after a while, he’d started getting more clingier, more possessive, more codependent, and much MUCH more aggressive. Now of course, he wasn’t ever aggressive towards you, never too you. He’d sworn to himself to never hurt you like other people had hurt him. But whenever he’d seen you interacting with other villagers he could feel his blood start to boil. Why did you do that?! Did you hate him?! He’d feel absolutely livid as he would storm over to whoever you were interacting with. At first it wasn’t that big of a deal, but when he started getting physical, that’s when you had to go to Isabelle.

And even when you knew this was for the better...You still felt bad doing it. You knew why Barold was doing this, he’s had so little positive feedback in his life. But you still had to tell yourself that his actions aren’t justified because of it. You still really cared about him, but you also cared about your other villages as well. And you couldn’t look the other way if Barold was trying to hurt your friends. You went straight to Isabelle that day, telling her all about what he’d done, including all of his obsessive behaviors. Isabelle was...shocked, to say the least when you takes your her. You could even see Tom looking over to you in pity as you detailed any of the things that had made you uncomfortable. Isabelle made sure to go talk to Barold. But the outcome was...way worse than if you’d have just kept your mouth shut.

Barold had tried to keep his composure as Isabelle had her stern talk with him. Only at the end when she had said “if you don’t fix this behavior, we’ll have to consider evicting you”. Once she had said that, he let out a small yelp as he tried to hide it with a smile. Putting on a fake persona, he told her he’d change his behavior and for her to have a good day. But once she had left, Barold went off. He started punching his walls, throwing furniture around and screaming to himself as he cried out. WHY WOULD YOU TALK TO ISABELLE?! YOU WERE GONNA GET RID OF HIM WEREN’T YOU!?

He wasted no time as he stormed outside. Once he found you at the town plaza, talking to Al, he felt his temper go up more than ever. With a furious roar he tackled Al to the ground and stared scratching his face repeatedly, although because of the size difference Al was able to easily punch him off. You immediately grabbed a hold of the savage bear you once called a friend as he started trashing around in your grip. Barold, blind with rage accidentally scratched you in the face whilst trying to get out of your arms. Although once he realized what he had done he gasped and could feel his world collapse. You relised him from your grip and fell to the ground, your face stung like hell and by now, almost all of your villagers had come over to see what the fuzz was about.

You could see the cub place his paws over his mouth as you heard the sound of soft pats approach you. You felt a pair of small arms wrap around you, as you looked over to your left you saw a certain purple frog giving you a comforting hug, it was Diva. Soon enough more villagers rushed to you and tried to make sure you were okay. But as Barold tried this, he could feel a firm hand place itself on his shoulder, it was Al, who was currently glaring daggers into Barold.

Suddenly, the sound of a door bursting open could be heard through the entire island. Isabelle and Tom were standing before the horrid sight, the yellow dog rushing towards you to help you up and the tanooki marching to the grey cub. After many questions about what had happened, witch everyone except Barold could answer. You could see Toms eyes full with rage and disappointment. Soon he’d started yelling at him about how this was his last chance. Barold had done stuff similar to this but never had it gotten to this degree.

“That’s it! You blew it! I’m sorry Barold but you are a danger to this island and everyone on it! We have given you plenary of chances but now you’ve clearly shown us that you can’t live here. I want you gone in two days!” Nook yelled as he could feel the bear growing smaller and smaller under his rage full gaze. Isabelle had helped you off the ground and were escorting you to get you bandaged up. Sooner or later, everyone started going their separate ways. All but one.

Barold had fallen to his knees, biting his face in his paws. No...no no no NO! He didn’t want to move! He couldn’t move! He never meant for this to happen! During these past months he’d feel more genuine happiness than ever before! He couldn’t lose that! He couldn’t lose YOU! YOU WERE GONNA BE WITH HIM! WEATHER YOU WANT IT OR NOT!

Late at night, when everyone was asleep, you were quietly sitting by the beach. Stroking your fingers gently against the sand, drawing small figures. You couldn’t help but feel guilty, even if this wasn’t your fault you still felt like you could have done more to have prevented this. But ultimately, you knew this was for the better. Sadly for you, you were to absorbed in your own thoughts to hear the soft footsteps approaching you.

Out of nowhere, you could feel a rag being pressed against your mouth and nose, panicked you stared hyperventilating but that caused you to immediately faint. But fear not, you were gently caught by none other than the bear you found, wandering around a beach all those months ago. If he had come up with a dastardly plan to get away with you in his grasp. He made sure to note to apologies to you later, but that didn’t matter right now. As he carried you home, trying to avoid anyone who might still be up, he could t help but feel guilty. He was kidnapping you for Petes sake! But he tried to convince himself that the others didn’t deserve to have you.

The next day Barold could be seem moving all of his bags and boxes towards the airport, he didn’t bother to say goodbye to anyone, just dragging a big suitcase behind him, the bag was bigger than he was. But hey, who knows.

Maybe he just had a lot of baggage?

#yandere animal crossing #yandere acnh #yandere #acnh #yadere x reader #stinky ugly bear man #but i love him😌#yandere barold #acnh barold

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quietrainfan · 4 years ago

Text

Unsymptober Day 6: Mind Control

Trigger Warnings: Unsympathetic Patton, Mind Control, Forced self harm, Blood, Knives, Dehumanization, Verbal/Emotional/Physical abuse, Gaslighting.

Note: Beginning is after Accepting Anxiety and end is after DWIT.

Once Virgil had formed an understanding with the Light Sides, he felt a weight lifted off his shoulders. Of course this didn't mean all of their feuds were resolved. There was still the issue of Janus and Remus needing Thomas to be aware of them and accepting them as facets of his personality. Not to mention the tense relationship between them and the Light Sides. Hopefully, though, this could lead to the Lights to open up to the idea of understanding Janus and Remus as well.

The anxious side opened the door that served as a barrier in the mind palace between the Darks and Lights. Virgil couldn't help the amused smirk that stretched across his lips as the spooky- most would call absolutely terrifying- sound echoed from inside the long pitch black hallway, confirming that the thing entering was another Dark Side. Janus had put a protective spell on their door that had been there- since forever, really- as a precaution in case the Lights tried to sneak in. It was strong enough that even Virgil had a difficult time getting in every once in a while. Thankfully, though, Janus could sense when it was him and can let him in at any time.

Virgil shut the door behind him, the usual yellow glow around the rimms flashed for a brief second before disappearing, leaving the anxious side in complete blackness. The lengthy hallway was freezing and there were always sounds of...something growing along the walls. Virgil was able to proceed without a care, though. Maybe it was because his purple irises that were made to help him see in the dark automatically switched on by instinct or that he was just used to the atmosphere of the Dark Side home. Probably both.

"Hey, hey! Look who's home! Say, Dee, ya think I should melt into the wall and try and spook 'im when he gets to the living room?!~"

"You do realize he can hear you, Remus. It wouldn't be much of a surprise. And no, I've already spoken to you about melting into the walls."

"Aw, you're no fun!"

Virgil rolled his eyes, the smirk never leaving his face at the familiar voices echoing in the distance. He finally made it to the aforementioned common room and waved at the two taller figures waiting for him.

"I'm home.", Virgil greeted, letting out an 'oof' as Remus wrapped an aggressive- but affectionate- arm around his shoulders.

"Hey there, tiny! Took ya long enough!", The creative side pulled him closer for a rough noogie, laughing as Virgil tried to break free to no avail.

"Augh, Remus! Let go!"

"How did it go today? I hope they didn't give you too much trouble.", Janus approached the two shorter sides with crossed arms.

His voice was even and calm but Virgil could tell Janus was on the defensive, for his sake, against the Lights. He always was when he returned. The things Virgil told him of his experience with them had his protective elder brother mode cranked up to a million.

Virgil snapped out of his annoyance towards Remus at the question, "Uh...yeah, about that. We need to talk."

"What did they do?", Remus had loosened his grip on Virgil a bit, his tone quickly went from playful to low and dangerous. Which prompted Virgil to explain before he did anything that would reverse all the progress they made.

"N-Nothing! Well- not nothing but….", The anxious side saw their eyes narrow and he cleared his throat, freeing himself from Remus's embrace, standing up straight and rubbing his neck nervously, "Uh, so- They kind of...accepted me? They came looking for me and we talked. Thomas is no longer resisting my spot at the discussion table."

Remus scoffed, "Yeah, right. After all that?"

"I was skeptical at first, too.", Virgil admitted, "But they really made a genuine effort to understand me."

The creative side wasn't buying it, turning to Janus. The deceitful side nodded, "From what I can tell he's being truthful, Remus. And I doubt he'd speak of it if he didn't feel like all of this was for certain."

Virgil was calmed by Janus's ever present rationality. But he knew this conversation wasn't over. "Although", He began again, "I am curious about what they said about the rest of us."

The anxious side bit his lip.

Janus's expression softened, "It's alright. Take your time."

Virgil sighed, "They-well, Roman, really- said that I was nothing...compared to you guys."

Remus chuckled bitterly, leaning against the wall, "Fucking typical. What'd I tell you?"

"I understand and trust me, share your anger, Remus. But they were not only willing to hear Virgil out but also came looking for him after he, to them at least, went missing.", Janus turned back to Virgil, "Remember that this is for Thomas's sake and working as a unit is far more efficient than doing it separately. Regardless of how...strained our family ties are."

Virgil responded with a smile which the taller side returned. He knew Janus would be understanding but it was still relieving to hear out loud. The deceitful side was known to be incredibly protective of all of them and unapologetic about his opinion towards the Lights. But thankfully that didn't mean he wasn't unwilling to make amends, provided they offered the same courtesy.

"So we're letting them in just like that?", Remus protested.

Janus laughed, "Absolutely not. I'm not going to let go of all the bitterness I feel simply because they were nice once to one of us. They have quite a ways to go to earn my trust and even longer to earn my respect.", He layed a gentle hand on Virgil's shoulder, "But what happened is worth noting."

Remus hummed, still skeptical of the whole thing, "We're going to still have to worm our own way in. Plus Thomas isn't even conscious of us yet."

Janus nodded, "Naturally. We can't just have our stormcloud being the middle-man for us forever.", A fond smile stretched on his face at Virgil's small grunt in response to his pet name.

"Eh, whatever.", Remus sighed, "You're the boss. If it means I can get my ideas heard, I don't really care how."

"Very good.", Janus clasped his hands together, "Now, it's been a long day. We'll discuss this further in the morning."

The three sides separated for the evening. Virgil distinctly remembered the following morning. They had started discussing ways to ease Thomas into accepting the parts of himself that he blocks out and working from there to get the others to follow suit. Virgil still had the memory of the last thing he said to them.

"I certainly hope any of these scenarios will work. Virgil, are you sure about this?"

"Yeah, no worries. Leave it to me. I just don't want you guys to have to hide anymore."

Leave it to me.

He had said. And he meant it. He would've followed through with his promise but he didn't anticipate the situation he managed to get himself into.

Virgil was speaking to Patton while they got together for a movie marathon. Everything happened so fast. He brought up the Dark Sides, their recent reconciliation, and the possibility of them being able to come to an understanding since he was accepted. Before he could read Patton's expression as his smile fell, Virgil...felt something change in him. The anxious side wasn't able to decipher what at the time but by the time he had, it was already too late.

"I don't think you should trust them, kiddo. Stay with us."

That was all he said. Virgil opened his mouth to try and defend the others, try to convince Patton that it was possible for everyone to get along. But the words died in his throat. What came out instead shocked the anxious side.

"You're right, Patton. I'm so glad to finally be away from them. Thanks for...embracing me and giving me a proper family.", Virgil had a hard time processing what he said. He hadn't meant a single word of it yet his tone, body language, and expression reflected his words perfectly.

"Your welcome, kiddo.", Patton smiled warmly at him.

"I didn't mean any of that. Patton, the others can be trusted, you guys just need to give them a chance."

"Honestly, I don't know why I stayed with them for so long. All they did was cause trouble and made me miserable.", A spiteful growl left Virgil's lips.

The anxious side thought he saw Patton's warm smile fade slightly.

"Maybe because you didn't have any other option.", Patton smiled sadly, "We didn't give you any. We had no idea how horrible you had it. But now we do and there's no need to worry anymore. We won't let them hurt you."

The moral side placed a comforting hand on his knee, "I promise."

"They've never hurt me! I was perfectly fine! I just wanted respect. And they deserve the same!"

"I'm….still afraid, Pat.", Virgil mentally swore. What the hell was going on?!

"I know. But I'll always be here. And so will Roman and Logan."

"Thanks. That makes me feel a little better.", Virgil finally returned his smile.

"No, you all are part of the problem. I'll never feel comfortable if I have to choose between two halves of my family!"

His true feelings were locked up nice and tight. Virgil learned very quickly that what he actually thought was met with consequences. Nasty ones. Patton pulled him aside after everyone had fallen asleep.

"I'm sure you've caught on by now, Virgil.", The moral side said simply, "Unfortunately, as I predicted, you aren't weak enough to convince completely. You still have some free will in there. You Dark Sides really are a pain."

He adjusted his glasses with a sigh but smiled brightly nonetheless, "But that's a-okay! I've got a little back up! If you're going to be our family Virgil, I'll have to set some rules first!", Patton handed him a small pocket knife, "Hurt yourself."

Virgil blinked at the request. Patton's sweet smile remained, "For every forbidden thought you have, you are to hurt yourself with varying severity."

The anxious side's blood went cold. Judging by his expression, Patton wasn't kidding. "Hmm, since you had three forbidden thoughts today, let's start off with three wounds. Do it.", He commanded.

Virgil's hand moved, despite him trying to fight back against the urge forced on him. He reached for his face, ready to cut just below his eye but the moral side caught his wrist, guiding it back down.

"Ah, ah, kiddo. Not on areas where others can see.", Patton purred, "We wouldn't raise suspicion now, would we?"

He guided the anxious side's hand down further. , "Here. Your stomach. I think there's a good start."

Patton released him, watching as Virgil lifted his shirt. "Under your belly button, Virge. Since you had the guts to bring them up in a positive light."

Virgil's teeth sank into his bottom lip as he penetrated his skin, dragging it along to the other side, hot blood already beginning to soak his lower half.

"Your chest now, kiddo. One under and one in the center."

Virgil complied, holding back a scream as the excruciating pain shot through him. Patton let it drag on, taking his sweet time in telling him to stop.

"Okey dokey!~ That's enough for now.", Patton clapped.

Virgil stopped on command. He made a mess, though it was nothing compared to the agony he felt. His blood was still gushing out of him, the sight, the pain, made him burst into quiet tears.

Patton's smile remained but he rolled his eyes, "Oh, hush. You're a Dark Side, you've had worse and those wounds will heal almost right away.", The moral side pat his cheek, "Now go clean up and head to bed. We have some filming to do tomorrow."

Patton began to walk away but stopped briefly, "Oh, and welcome to the family!"

With that, he left.

From then on Virgil was forced to treat the Dark Sides exactly how Patton did. He didn't know how long Patton had him under control but it was apparently it was long enough that Janus had decided to take things into his own hands and make an appearance. Virgil was so overwhelmed with joy, he had completely forgotten the situation he was trapped in.

"Dee! I'm so happy to see you!"

"Anyone who doesn't understand that should just shut up.", Virgil felt sick to his stomach. No, no!

The hurt on Janus's face filled him with so much guilt, "Virgil...it's me.", He said with an uncertain, broken voice, pointing to himself. , "Aren't we friends?"

"Of course we are! More than that, we're family!"

Virgil scoffed, "I'm not so sure we are."

Janus proceeded in his attempt to convince Thomas on his own and all Virgil could do was sit there, wishing he could scream that he didn't mean it.

Eventually, Janus being the clever snake he was, found his own way of having his voice heard. Virgil was happy, proud even but the guilt he felt was awful. If he had been there, this transition period would have been a lot smoother and they could've worked on it together.

Patton was having none of it. The more obvious it became that the Dark Sides were getting closer to their goal, the more he doubled down on Virgil behaving more and more cruel forcing him to take his side at every turn.

And every time Virgil wanted to shout that he was being controlled. That he didn't mean a word of it. He desperately wanted to embrace Janus and Remus and apologize for every nasty thing he was forced to say to them.

And every time he thought that way, Patton punished him. There was nothing he could do. He may be stuck like this forever, regardless if the others were accepted or not. Patton would find a way to use him to undo all their progress.

----

"Virgil really just abandoned us all and cozied up to ol' four eyes, huh?", Remus snarled with disgust.

Janus hummed with agreement, resting his chin on his conjoined fingers, "Yes, it seems so.", He turned to the shorter side, "You know why, right?"

Remus kicked the chair next to him, " 'Course. I ain't fucking stupid! But what are we going to do? Personally, I just want to charge in there and beat the shit out of him until he lets Virgil go. But I'm guessing you're looking for something more tactful."

Janus, "Leave it to me, Remus. We'll go with the original plan of getting the other's defenses down."

"And Virgil?"

"We'll set him free, rest assured. But as you said we can't just rush into this. There's also the subject of demasking Patton's true nature. We'll have to settle that first if we want a solution long term."

"It sounds like Virgil's going to have to hang in there for awhile.", Remus gripped his sleeve in frustration.

"Yes, with you watching over him."

Remus blinked, surprised.

Janus merely smirked, "I trust you can protect him as much as possible in the meantime. Just...try not to be too obvious. I don't want to put our stormcloud in any further danger."

Remus beamed, pounding his chest proudly, "Roger that, cap!"

"Good.", Janus turned away from his younger sibling with a frown, "It'll be a long road but eventually, he will pay."

The deceitful side looked down, rubbing his thumb along the old hoodie Virgil had left behind. "Stay strong, Virgil."

@unsympathetic-october-2020

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kindrednerdspirit · 4 years ago

Text

Sometimes a Thing Feels so Right: Part 5

Excerpt: A slow smile spreads across Izzie’s face. “This time, I’m ready to broadcast our business.” “Oh yeah?” Casey murmurs. “Pretty sure we’ve already done that.” The curve of Izzie’s lips makes it hard for Casey to think about anything else, so she inches closer until their foreheads touch. The two giggle as they re-live the forehead promise from their not-so-distant past. To draw out the moment, Casey gently rocks her temples against Izzie’s, enjoying how tantalizingly close their lips are.

One Block Later. The Library.

When Izzie walks into the library for the student council meeting, she’s pleased to see Mel is early, too.

Mel looks up from her notebook. “Hey. I know we already have the safe space posters printed and ready to hang up, but I have some ideas for future designs. And ideas for other ways we can make Clayton Prep an LGBTQ+ friendly place.”

“Great! Hold that thought.” Izzie quickly texts Jason to check up on him.

Hi Jase. Did mum help you and Alysha get ready for school?

The two girls jump into it. They’re about 15 minutes into their work when Harmony and Scarlet show up.

“Wow, you’re early!” Scarlet exclaims, looking at the girls. Izzie shrugs and keeps working. Scarlet scrutinizes her as she makes her way over to the table. Her eyes burn into Izzie, making it hard for her to concentrate.

“What?” She asks, her voice a bit too sharp.

“Your energy feels different, that’s all.” Scarlet ignores Izzie’s tone, continuing her visual inspection. “Did you hear anything else from Brad?”

The pen in Izzie’s hand stops in its tracks. The last people she wants to hear about are Brad or Nate or some other guy she cannot care less about. In the past, she’s repeatedly made this clear, but these two are relentless. Izzie sighs, because she knows It’s time to go public. Before she can change her mind, she looks directly at Harmony and Scarlet and straightens her back, so she’s not slouching in her chair. “You know that I think Nate and Brad are assholes and I’m tired of repeating myself… so, I’m hoping you’ll listen to this--I’m gay.”

Harmony’s eyes widen and repeatedly blink. Scarlet doesn’t look much different than Harmony, but she’s able to form some words.

“Oh, shit, Izzie. I--we didn’t know.” A long silence fills the library. “Sorry.”

To her right, Mel shifts in her seat, but despite everything, Izzie feels fine. Actually, she feels an odd sense of relief. She realizes she rarely sees Scarlet uncomfortable, so she decides to enjoy the moment.

“Damn, you two, nobody died. I like girls, it’s cool.” Izzie looks over at Mel and the two burst out laughing. “We have to go ladies, but no hard feelings. Really.”

The two girls take their LGBTQ+ posters and leave, so they can start hanging them up in the hallways. Meanwhile, Harmony and Scarlet find themselves alone and digesting the news.

“Do you think her and Casey--” asks Harmony.

“Yes,” replies Scarlet with a firm nod.

“So, we probably shouldn’t have written ‘slut’ and ‘ho’ on her shoes then--”

“No, we shouldn’t have,” she says with a firm head shake.

Harmony inches her hand toward Scarlet’s. “Should we--”

The warmth of Harmony’s hand startles her, making her quickly pull away. “No.”

Concern clouds over Harmony’s face. “Should I--”

“Yes.” Scarlet replies a bit too quickly. She forces herself to look at the wall, anywhere but her friend. In a flash, Harmony grabs her notebook and pencil case, then scurries out of the library.

Break Between Classes. In the Hallway.

“I can’t reach any higher.” Izzie protests while on her tippy toes. She’s holding a stapler with an outstretched arm.

Mel is holding the safe space poster with ease against the bulletin board. “Would you like me to find you a box?”

“Haha. Very funny.” Iz rolls her eyes. “But, yes, a box would help.”

With a grin Mel takes the stapler from Izzie. “Or, you know, I can do this and you can hold the posters.” She proceeds to staple the top right-hand edge of the poster. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots Casey walking down the hallway.

“Yo, Izzie. Casey 4 o’clock.”

At the sight of Newton, Izzie sucks in a quick breath. This is her chance. “Here, Mel. Hold these or something.” Izzie drops the small stack of posters on the ground and whirls around to face Casey’s direction. Her body is shaking as she tries to find the right words.

“Hey. Can we talk?” Izzie’s voice quavers.

“Nope,” Casey replies firmly.

“I’m sorry.” Iz follows Newton to her locker, while Newton aggressively puts in the lock combination.

“I'm sick of you apologizing. You led me on, you're jerking me around. I hate it.”

“I really like you.”

Her pleading and stating the obvious irks Casey even more. “Yeah, in this moment, but in ten minutes, you might be embarrassed by me or kissing some random guy. Just leave me alone.” She slams the locker door, then abruptly turns and starts marching down the hallway.

“Newton!” Izzie is on Casey’s heels. “Will you stop for two seconds so I can explain?”

It’s as if Casey is seeing red. She’s exhausted from avoiding Izzie at track this morning, nevermind what is currently happening. Needless to say, when she turns to face Izzie, she is done with this conversation.

“What?” Her brow is furrowed, but when she notices Izzie’s close proximity, her eyes soften.

They are close enough for their bare legs to touch. One of the few perks of a Clayton Prep skirt. Izzie hovers close before dipping her chin up. “I’m done being weird,” she murmurs. Casey’s heart is practically bursting as she watches Izzie’s lips part. It’s deja vu of the dance. The two of them in the exact same position with their lips close, but it’s different this time. This time, Izzie initiates. But like before, time slows as the two enjoy one another’s presence and touch. Their legs gently bump together as their arms intertwine.

Her lips taste delicious, like soft, warm vanilla beans. Exactly how Casey remembers. She brushes away a strand of Izzie’s hair after pulling away. Their eyes are locked on one another, a happy glow emitting from the couple.

Izzie hasn’t felt this good in weeks, not since the dance. She figured she’d feel self-conscious after kissing Casey in front of everyone in the hallway, instead she feels fine. More than fine, even. There’s a strange sense of pride. She’s happy to show off what she has with Newton to Clayton Prep.

“That was pretty weird.” A dumbstruck grin spreads across Casey’s face. This is not what she imagined happening during her walk from Biology to English. She’s still wondering whether the last few minutes actually happened.

Doubt sets in at Newton’s response. Izzie feels her inexperience showing. Was the kiss okay? Did Newton feel the same?

“Bad weird?” She tentatively asks.

Casey just chuckles and throws an arm around Izzie’s shoulders, leading her toward their next class.

“I have so much to tell you!”

Iz giggles, ecstatic to have her girlfriend holding her close, to have her favourite person back.

“First of all, I told my dad that I love you.” Casey feels her body being pulled back, as Izzie’s feet stop moving. Her eyebrows shoot up as she struggles to find the words.

“Wow, Newton, I--”

“But he thought I meant as a friend.” The two girls laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. “I would’ve corrected him but.. I wasn’t sure about us.” There’s an uncomfortable silence for a few beats. Iz presses her hand firmly against Newton’s.

“You can be sure about us.”

A Few Weeks Later. Getting Ready for the School Dance. Gardner’s House.

When Casey walks down the stairs in her 1980s-style yellow and black patterned button-up shirt with black suspenders, Elsa feels a surge of pride in her daughter. She cannot restrain herself, she has to throw her arms around her girl and squeeze tight.

“I’m so proud of you!” Casey’s outfit matches the 1980s theme of Clayton Prep’s dance, and it’s reminding Elsa of her first high school dance with its overabundance of neon, big hair, and hormones.

“Mum!” Casey protests with an eye roll. “It’s not like it’s prom or grad, it’s just a dance. Or what you kids used to call it, sock hops.” She’s waiting in the living room, so she can make a quick escape with Izzie when she shows up.

Elsa is now leaning on Doug, enjoying the moment, ignoring her daughter’s teasing. “Can you believe that our youngest is going to her first dance with her first girlfriend?” Her eyes are starting to water. Doug pulls Elsa in with one arm, so her chin is resting on his shoulders.

“They grow up fast.” He says quietly enough so only Elsa hears.

By this point, Casey has noticed the water works are starting, so she wanders over to Sam who’s sitting on the couch sketching. She gets all up in his personal space by resting her chin on his shoulders. There’s no hesitation or pause in the pencil’s movements. It’s as if Casey isn’t even there.

Ding-dong.

Within seconds, Casey is flinging open the door. She needs a quick exit to escape from the Elsa paparazzi. Except that as soon as she sees Izzie, the quick exit gets scratched. Izzie is wearing a denim jumper, somewhat similar to her own, but more stylized with buttons and rolled up sleeves. Her ears are adorned with her usual hoop earrings, but she’s paired them with a Boy George inspired hat.

A sheepish smile spreads across her face. “Hey, Newton.” She peers around her girlfriend to look at the Gardner family. “Hi Gardners!”

There’s a flurry as Elsa ushers Izzie and Casey inside. “You girls look so cute! Come in, I just want to take a few pictures.”

Casey gives Izzie an apologetic look, but of course, Izzie doesn’t mind. It’s kind-of nice seeing Casey’s family wanting to document and remember this moment. There are pictures taken of them as a couple, then they move on to taking some pictures of the Gardner family.

Sam pauses while Elsa is taking one of him and Casey.

“Are you and Izzie more serious than you and Evan?” His question is genuine.

“Dude, what the hell?” Casey exclaims before glancing over at Izzie. Izzie laughs, not bothered by his question.

“I need another person to go to for advice, like Evan, but I don’t know if I should expect your relationship status to change.”

Casey playfully punches her brother’s shoulder.

“Ow!” His face is scrunched up. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I’m your sister. It’s basically my duty to communicate with you in annoying ways.” Casey walks over to Izzie, wraps her arm around her, then pulls her in for a kiss on the cheek. “I can’t say she’ll give you advice, weirdo, but she’ll be around for awhile.”

***

Synthesizers and dreamy British, New Wave sounds fill the gymnasium. There is a lot of neon, big hair, hormones, and bright lights on the polished gym floor. Izzie stretches out her arm, holding up an inviting palm to Newton. A slow, confident smile spreads across Casey’s face before she takes Izzie’s hand.

“You look…” Her brain is at a sudden loss for words.

“You too.” Izzie finishes her sentence, then promptly blushes before looking at her feet.

“C’mon, let’s show these Clayton Prep losers how to dance.” Casey proceeds to reach into her pocket and pull out fingerless gloves. Izzie’s eyebrows shoot up.

“I got them from Elsa’s closet.”

“My girlfriend is unbelievably cool.” Iz says with a wink before placing Newton’s fingerless-gloved hands around her waist. “Hold Me” by Fleetwood Mac begins playing from the speakers. In response, Casey pumps a fist in excitement and carefully but skillfully dips Izzie with her other arm.

“The power of the fingerless gloves.” She giggles.

“And you think Sam’s a weirdo?” Iz smirks.

The two begin Snoopy dancing to the upbeat piano and guitar licks. Elsewhere, Harmony and Scarlet are dancing suspiciously close, while Mel is talking up some girls at the punch bar. Despite the entire student body surrounding her, Iz doesn’t feel self-conscious at all. She’s just happy she’s no longer hiding anything.

“Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper begins playing, so the girls ditch the Peanuts-inspired dancing. Izzie cannot help but think of the hotel party as the familiar electricity between them pulls their bodies together. Her hands slip around the small of Newton’s back as their bodies rhythmically sway together.

A slow smile spreads across Izzie’s face. “This time, I’m ready to broadcast our business.”

“Oh yeah?” Casey murmurs. “Pretty sure we’ve already done that.” The curve of Izzie’s lips makes it hard for Casey to think about anything else, so she inches closer until their foreheads touch. The two giggle as they re-live the forehead promise from their not-so-distant past. To draw out the moment, Casey gently rocks her temples against Izzie’s, enjoying how tantalizingly close their lips are.

Iz bites her lip. She wants to resist the urge to taste Newton, but her deliciously warm lips are too inviting. Goosebumps appear on her goosebumps. She feels the familiar tingly feeling that only Newton has ever given her. She could get used to this. This whole being happy at school, time away from her home responsibilities, being comfortable with her identity. Iz feels the remaining tension in her body loosen and the warmth of Newton’s arms around her. She feels safe in her embrace. Neither wants to let go, so they continue moving back and forth, as one, with their foreheads pressed together well after the song ends.

The End

#cazzie #cazzie fanfiction #casey and izzie #casey gardner #izzie no last name #sorry this took way too long to post #they kiss #the feels #the end #let me know if you find the LOTR reference #solved who vandalized Casey's shoes #I hope people understand the fingerless glove references

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harcourtholmesii · 4 years ago

Text

Unintended Purpose (Part I)

Pairings: As Of Yet; Unknown

Warnings: - Swearing - Slavery (Whether Realised Or Not)

Words: 2923

Enjoy!

The first thing he felt was the tickle of fine, soft hairs against the ridge of his nose. He turned his head, scrunching his face in slight annoyance.

Through his eyelids, the darkness was being slowly washed away with a golden shine. He could feel the absence of a blanket over his right leg, and the chill of the fan as his leg was exposed to the breeze.

Hank’s eyes opened lazily, revealing oaken locks that spread about the sheets in an odd, dark halo. It was several of those strands that were tickling his face this morning, and his annoyance receded almost immediately.

Hank propped himself up on one arm, leaning over to press a soft kiss to those locks. He glanced at the alarm clock on her side of the bed; they had slept in. He turned over in the sheets, and stood, stumbling for a moment in the wake of morning nausea. He cracked the bones in his back, muttering about his old bones and aching muscles, before stepping away and across the hall into the bathroom.

He took a moment to just observe himself in the mirror. His tired eyes, crusted at the corners with tears, and his face framed by growing, silver hair. Renee had told him many times that the white hairs he was so self-conscious about made him appear the silver fox. Even now, Hank tried to shrug the thoughts of his age behind him, picking up the razor and contemplating for a moment.

He could feel the itch as fine bristles of his beard had started growing in. Renee hated feeling them scratch her skin whenever they kissed. It made him look older, according to her. The hair appeared refined but the beard was too much. Hank never questioned her judgement, as his own thoughts on fashion or his appearance were lackluster at best. Comfort was his primary concern followed closely by how motivated he was to get a haircut or shave his face.

He tossed the razor aside, beginning his morning routine. Brush teeth, use the can, and then have a shower. He picked up the pace this morning, if only because they were all due to be late to their appointment. He kicked a plastic, toy boat out of the tub as he turned the broiling water on. He needed to speak to Cole about leaving his toys about.

Once he was as clean as he cared to be, Hank dressed himself in one of his cleaner shirts and pairs of pants for the day. The shirt was a bright blue with obnoxious, yellow lines painted vertically across it. His wife called it ‘ugly’. He called it ‘nostalgic’.

Once he was dressed, he stepped around the bed and pressed another kiss to Renee’s head. One hand swatted at him sleepily, almost playfully. He just smiled, turning to leave the room and go wake up the little tyrant instead. She must have returned home late from the trip, if she was this exhausted. He’d let her sleep and attend the appointment with Cole.

Across the hall, Hank opened the door to reveal his little boy. Soon to be turning six years old, Cole had received an early birthday present. He was certain he had told Cole to leave the puppy in the laundry overnight, but he had clearly been ignored.

Sumo, as Cole had named him, raised his little head from Cole’s chest, and had begun wagging his tail when Hank entered the room. Hank tried his best to shush the little pup, but the tiny thing had started yapping and bounding over to him and leaping up at his knees. It was enough to wake Cole, who rubbed his eyes and beamed up at Hank. Soon, Hank was toppled over by both a bundle of fur and Cole’s combined weight.

‘Mornin’ Cole.’ He laughed, rubbing a hand roughly through his son’s hair. There was a giggle, something that warmed Hank’s chest.

‘Morning Dad!’

‘Sh-sh!’ Hank raised a finger to his lips, hoping to quiet them all down before they woke Renee. ‘Mom’s still sleepin’.’ He sat up, gently resting Cole awkwardly on his knee and trying to push the tiny St Bernard off. ‘Get dressed, and we’ll pick up some breakfast on the way.’

Cole nodded, excitedly running to his closet and throwing his clothes hurriedly onto his bed. Hank retreated from the room and headed to the kitchen, looking about for the big bag of dried food. He found it beneath the kitchen sink, and filled the bowl up with one and then an extra cup of food. Sumo had buried his snout in before Hank had a chance to tell him to ‘sit’.

A few minutes later, and he had Cole in his arms, tussling with him all the way to the car. He had picked him up in his arms, feeling the groan of his old bones, as he began to tickle and then chase Cole to the backseat of the car.

The air outside was cold, an early Winter on the horizon. The sun shone rays of gold through the still red and yellow treetops. A bit of ice caught Hank, causing him to slip for a moment, and he was thankful not to hear a rip in his jeans. Cole just laughed as he pulled himself up and into the backseat.

They peeled out of the driveway with an apologetic wave at Sumo; the puppy having climbed the couch to see out the lounge-room window. They would try and make it quick. Hank hated seeing those wide eyes. It made him feel like a fucking criminal.

Cole peered out the window the whole drive, sometimes pointing out the occasional android on the street with their owners. He seemed so excited. Hank, whilst delighted Cole was as happy as Renee to get a new addition to the family, felt some bitterness growing in a pit in his stomach.

He never much liked the concept of owning an android. Sure, they were made of plastic, synthetic skin and wiring, but they looked too close to humans for his comfort. Perhaps, if they looked more like robots then people, he would be less creeped out by them. To him, it felt like they were buying a slave, not a helpful instrument or device.

Renee had insisted though.

Since her job paid well, and both she and Hank were often faced with conflicting schedules, they didn’t wish to leave Cole alone through the day. Having someone clean the house and look after Cole gave both her and Hank more freedom to spend time together and work. But it frustrated Hank; wasn’t the point to spend more time with Cole and not have an android look after him 24/7?

Hank and Renee didn’t often agree, but they made it work. He loved her, dearly, but sometimes, he felt her head was too focussed on her job rather than their son. He usually felt like a hypocrite after he had these thoughts. After all, as a police officer, Hank was constantly busy with reports and constant action out on the streets. Cole admired him for it, but Hank hated that he often had to work late.

It was why he had taken the week off to buy the new android and spend that time with Cole before his birthday.

He had hoped Renee would do the same.

He nearly missed the turn into the shopping mall parking lot. He parked; his grey, busted car stuck out like a sore thumb between the newer and sleeker designs. He helped Cole out of the seatbelt and hurried after the boy as he tore excitedly across parking lot and into the mall entrance.

Hank caught up to him, near chastising him for running off when Cole pulled him eagerly by the hand into the large CyberLife store. It reminded Hank of an Apple store before the company had all but become extinct. Sleek white walls, monitors filled with advertisements of the newest models and people milling about, asking what each model was capable of.

He felt a shudder roll up his spine as he looked about the store. Androids of all types stood up high on pedestals, hands at their sides or behind their backs with their eyes forward. Along the back wall were glass cabinets filled with the odd components, and ones that were spare of shelves instead contained the newest models. The ones in the cabinets smiled and waved and posed, like they were modelling their likeness and functions to the world.

Cole had rushed off to explore, taking a keen interest in the ones at the back; they smiled at him through their glass enclosures. He waved right back at them, his giddiness kept Hank from peeling back out of the store’s front door in discomfort. He hated these stores, hated anything really that had to do with technology, but he despised the ‘stock’, so to speak.

‘Can I help you today, sir?’ A chipper voice spoke to him, and Hank turned his head, swallowing thickly at the appearance of a female android. She smiled brightly up at him, her LED a bright blue and Hank couldn’t help but stare at it. He needed to remind himself that this was an android; not a person.

‘Uh, yeah… Cole!’ With that, his son was at his side in a moment, looking up at the android with wide eyes. She beamed down at him and tilted her head in an odd mimicry of human behaviour.

‘We’re here to get an android. We didn’t know where to start, so we had an appointment made. ‘Anderson’, and I think Renee put it under her name.’ The LED’s little ring turned a bright, neon yellow, and Hank watched as its eyes almost flickered. The LED returned to its usual blue.

‘Ah, of course, Mister Hank Anderson. If you would like to take a seat, we can discuss what model may be best suited to your needs.’ The android gestured to some plastic, rounded seats across the way with a desk between them and a computer. Hank was pretty sure it was more for aesthetic purposes or the owner’s use, rather than the android staff.

Cole and he took a seat, Cole immediately taking a small, holographic picture book and beginning to drag his finger across its surface like a stylus. He watched as the android on the cover had its uniform change from white to red and then to orange as Cole decided what colours he liked best.

‘So, Mister Anderson, let us start with exactly what price you are looking for. What is your price range?’ Straight to business. Hank hummed a moment, glancing about the models in the store and at their prices. The prices of androids had gone down over the years as they became more and more commonplace, but that didn’t mean the number was one to scoff at.

‘At most… Uh… Four thousand, I guess.’ The LED switched to yellow and blinked almost immediately back to blue. The android hummed, once more a mimicry of human behaviour. Hank didn’t appreciate it much.

‘That does, indeed, narrow most options down, I am afraid. The cheapest model would be the AX400, but most of those have been handed down and not in the best condition. However…’ She retrieved a holographic magazine from beneath the desk and offered it to him. She skimmed the ‘pages’ with her finger until halting on one with a selection of different android types. There were no images on this page to accompany the prices, but she pointed to each one in turn.

‘The PL600’s price is on the decline recently. It has all the usual capabilities of most home assistant androids, including the ability to perform all home maintenance tasks, help with school work from Primary through to High school and speak up to 150 different languages, as needed.’

Hank didn’t really know what to think.

‘Or, you have the MP500. Part of our newest stock, but they have further limitations to allow for a cheaper price. They start at $2999.’ Hank whistled, as if acting impressed. He wasn’t. Honestly, hearing this android advertise and sell off their own was giving him a headache.

‘Can you just show us what models you mean first? I’m not gonna pay for anything unless he agrees with it.’ Cole looked up from the colouring book and grinned, peering about the room. His eyes landed on the glass cabinets at the back once more and he pointed at them, tugging on Hank’s sleeve. The android smiled and followed behind the two of them as Hank was pulled out of his seat and to the back of the store.

‘What about that one?’ Cole pointed out one blonde, male-looking android, marked with the PL600 badge. Beneath the badge, the name ‘Simon’ was printed there. He showed his teeth through his smile, crouching down and pressing his hand to the glass. Cole pressed his hand right back and grinned.

‘Simon has already been reserved I am afraid.’ Cole pouted, and ‘Simon’ mirrored the action, returning to stand once more. ‘We have one of the same model, the PL600 as I mentioned, that is in the back? His name is Daniel, if you would like to meet him.’

‘What’s that one?’ Cole was once more moving across the room and to another android behind glass. Hank was thankful Cole was at least asking about the ones in their price range, even if the android assistant had given them the details on these models previously.

The AX400 smiled down at him but didn’t stoop to talk with him. Cole looked up at the female android, and she rested her palm against the glass as well. She didn’t stoop down like Simon did, but her smile grew wider. Hank noticed Cole seemed a little disappointed, and Hank just hurried him along. He ignored the look of almost disappointment in the AX400’s eyes.

Then, Cole stopped, and pointed to the corner of the store. It was a corner cabinet, a little more cramped then the others. Hank wasn’t sure what to think of this one. It seemed much like the other androids, but its appearance was off somehow. Unlike the others that moved in their cabinets and showed themselves off, this one stood almost at attention, like the many models on pedestals.

When Cole approached it, brown eyes lowered to watch him. They flicked back up to Hank, back to Cole and then back to staring ahead. The assistant android looked over the cabinet, and, once more, took a second to process the inquiry, as silent as it was.

‘This android was not originally intended to be a model for public use. It failed its original test, and had the necessary programs downloaded for housework. Unlike other models, this RK800 was not designed to integrate with a family or a household setting.’ Cole had stepped up to the glass once more, and once again, his hand rested on the glass.

Those brown eyes lowered and stared at him. The male android tilted its head in response, as though attempting to contemplate such a foreign concept. Cole tilted his head to mirror him and smiled. The android didn’t smile, but it tilted its head the other way. It reminded Hank of a puppy.

‘This RK800 is due to be taken off the market and terminated. It is currently sitting at $450, due to its previous failed tests. I would not recommend such a model, as it may be a bit unpredictable in how it behaves. It hasn’t had the necessary home assistant program installed since the start, so it may revert back to its previous function.’

‘And what function is that?’ Hank huffed, blowing some silver strands out of his face. He was not exactly impressed if such an unstable model was being sold to the general public, and had a moment of wondering about its legality before the assistant android spoke up.

‘Originally, the RK800 was built to be a police detective, and-’ Cole didn’t let her finish.

‘That one!’

‘Now Cole, I’m not sure mom would much like this choice. It is not exactly stable, and wasn’t even what we were after.’ Hank offered, crouching down to Cole’s level. He rested a hand on Cole’s shoulder, watching as those hazel eyes pleaded with him to reconsider.

‘But he’s like you, dad!’ Hank sighed. Of course that was what Cole had focussed on. ‘He was a police officer, like you are! I want him!’ Hank turned his gaze from Cole back up to the android. Beneath the model badge, was its name; ‘Connor’. Doe like eyes turned from Cole to Hank; his face was a soft one but it held a distant expression, unlike the other androids in the store. He turned his head, watching as one stepped off a pedestal and its features transitioned from distant to kind. He didn’t think it would be the same thing.

He sighed.

‘Where do I sign for it?’

Cole hugged him tightly, and the android assistant smiled. It seemed a little strained somehow. The android, ‘Connor’, didn’t move. Didn’t even blink when his payment went through. He stepped out of the cabinet as the glass slid away, took one step and spoke.

‘Hank and Cole Anderson. I’m the RK800 android as made by CyberLife. Intended purpose; a failure. New purpose; home assistance. May my work be satisfactory to you both.’

Hank hated this already.

((I don’t know why, but I fell in love with the concept of Detroit: Become Human the moment I played its first sequence. I felt the need to write this out, but I swear, I am not trying to forget other stories I am in the process of writing! I intend to get back to them!))

#DBH #Detroit: Become Human #RK800 #RK800 Connor #Hank Anderson #Cole Anderson #Fanfic #Fanfiction #HarcourtHolmesII

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