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serene-victory-77 · 4 years ago

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Why The Crows Being Teenagers Is Actually Perfectly Realistic

There’s a TL;DR are the end because wow I like to rant.

I lightly discuss the general situations they’re all in to explore how they are frighteningly mature and competent, but it’s not particularly depressing or descriptive, it’s definitely lighter than the books

I thought about this post with a joke first: “People who think that Six of Crows is unrealistic because they’re so young clearly have not spent much time with traumatized honors students.”

It’s a bit of an exaggeration, but the point stands.

But I decided that, hm, actually, I could make a point about this. I totally agree with the aging up of the characters in the Shadow and Bone show, but when people straight up say that the books are wrong or unrealistic for having a young crew, I get annoyed, and here’s why (other than me reading the books for the first time when I was 13 and thinking ‘Huh okay, I see it’ and now being lowkey offended when people say they ignore it for being unrealistic):

On Inej

- At first I thought Inej’s wisdom and general demeanor was one of the most unrealistic things in the book

- When I thought about it longer, I was like “Actually, she’s 16, right? I’ve sent some of the most lyrical philosophy trying to help my friends while in high school. My friends have done the same. It’s valid.”

- Frankly, teenagers love hard-hitting philosophical truths. They love repeating what they’ve read or heard in movies and in books and from family stories. They love sharing little bits of wisdom they have come up with

- Inej’s ability to hear and understand philosophy and wisdom that she was surrounded by for 14 straight years and then sit on it and elaborate it for her friends to understand, or even just to piss them off in Kaz’s case?

- Teenagers have that. They do it. So, Inej’s Wisdom passes, to me. It’s valid.

As for her being calm

- You know how everyone jokes that Kaz seems calm on the outside but when you get to his POV he’s like “What the fuck” at the Van Eck house or just straight up “Huh, is this revenge for making tree jokes” at the Djel River thingy in the Ice Court?

- Inej is like that, too. And she gets angry, and she gets confused, or exhausted.

- AKA every quiet kid ever. Like, are you kidding? Have you ever been in a situation in which it’s literally chaos all around you, people are screaming and things are being destroyed (think middle school classroom with bitchy long term substitute and even worse students), and you’re just, calm? You pick up your things, you do what you need to do?

- That’s Inej. Like, what else is she gonna do? She’s smart enough to know that panicking won’t help anyone, and so she just rides it out. Internally she might be like “Why is this happening” but frankly, her being quiet and controlled in most situations is probably a coping mechanism and I respect that

- Pretty sure this is also based on the fact that the Suli have no land for their own and constantly have to keep moving. It might align with generational trauma, I’m sure someone could explain it better than me, but being able to keep your cool while constantly having to change and adapt to new situations, in, say, a country with hellfire politics and no land to call your own? Seems like a hereditary trait that could be useful in Ketterdam, although it’s sad.

On Inej’s abilities

- Simone Biles started training when she was 6 and went to the World Artistic Gymnastics Championships when she was 16, where she qualified in all the events.

- There are videos of people walking over tightropes as young as three years old. We know Inej didn’t start that young, but not only was she naturally talented at it, but she spent a lot of time practicing. I think it’s valid. Plus, some of her family members do some pretty crazy things in her flashbacks, because that’s the whole point of what they do.

- Youngest person to beat American Ninja Warrior was 16 year old Vance Walker

- Inej has a variety of of tools that help her wall climb, and while it’s true that she started young and got good really fast, she already had a history of physical work that would help her, and from what we can gleam from the book, a surprising amount of free time in which she was actively encouraged to learn everything she could.

So that’s Inej! I think her skills are perfectly possible for someone with her history and situation. It’s true that she’s naturally skilled, but that’s not actually all that unusual. And her demeanor and wisdom do fit in with what a lot of teenagers are like and the circumstances she was brought up in

Onto Kaz!

- One thing I hear about is that Kaz is too smart for not having gone to school and also too young to know all that he does

- Do you all KNOW how many self-taught people there have been in this world? The word for people who are self-taught is autodidacts, and honestly a huge amount of famous people apply. Like many, many other people in history (there’s a whole list of them in Wikipedia), he had an vested interest in a field and he learned all he could. Sure, those fields were magic tricks and math, but still.

- Suddenly I have a lot of thoughts

- Okay, think, hyperfixations. That’s essentially what Kaz’s thing with magic tricks was, right? Have any of you ever spent time with an eight year old that clearly really, really loves dinosaurs? Those kids can spout names and facts and identify them by their skeletons and frankly know more than I ever will. Kaz’s was magic tricks. All kids are special.

- Kaz continued working on magic tricks and practicing them for years, so, I think that gets a pass.

- As for the math! Look, a Fact Of Life is that some kids are just Like That, whether it be possibly from neurodivergence or other factors:

- Flo and Kay Lyman are twins with Autism who basically have the calendar of EVER memorized. Kaz memorizing card decks is sensible, and these ladies don’t need to look up anything to figure it out, so Kaz doing sums inside his head seems plausible. His “photographic memory’ isn’t impossible, although the term itself might be incorrect.

- Katherine Johnson who worked at NASA (yes, the lady from Hidden Figures), was so good at math that she was in high school by age 10 and went to college at age 15. It’s true that she had some teaching, but 1. There’s no evidence Kaz had absolutely no schooling, even if it was just at home with books and 2. Kaz was 9 when he came to Ketterdam, and after Jordie died, when he wasn’t surviving, he was learning.

- Human calculator is a term that is applied to children a lot and there’s definitely plenty of videos showing how smart these kids are and them doing mental math easily, which he does in the books

- He had a LOT of pressure on him to figure out all he could, and if he wanted to move forward, he was going to have to learn a lot. He spent hours practicing magic tricks, for all we know he spent hours practicing math too. We know Jordie was a bit of a bookworm too, so Kaz from a young age probably already had a reason to learn. Personally, a lot of my love for books was inspired by my older sibling when I was younger

- Young people are adaptable. Kaz is incredibly adaptable. The term prodigy exists because of people like him through history.

- As for him being rational, there’s no other way to survive. Some of the greatest soldiers in history have been very, very young, and very, very smart. It’s true tacticians are generally considered to be older, but that doesn’t mean there haven’t been very young ones.

- A lot of the generals I found were like, 19 years old, but Kaz is 1. not a general and 2. in a place where young people take up the mantle really, really quickly, and frankly it’s been like that for a long time. I still think this passes. This isn’t relevant but William the Conqueror was apparently called “The Bastard”?

- Frankly, underground communities of thieves probably don’t go around publishing their escapades so to me it makes sense that I can’t just look up “famous young thieves” and get anything that makes sense, but I did try

- Y’all I tried to do research on youngest escape artists since I think Kaz qualifies and I found myself in what I think is a magicians forum? It’s from 2002-ish and I feel like I’ve just found a relic. I can’t definitely prove they’re all saying the truth, but some of the people there talk about 10-11 year olds at magic camps, so, it’s not impossible for this to be a skill Kaz learned really young, particularly when he made a habit of following around magicians

- I think he passes the realism check overall

For the other Crows:

- Nina being so proficiently multilingual makes sense to me, because she’s been in the Little Palace almost her entire life with all the best teachers they could afford at her disposal. Some people just click with languages. One such would be Timothy Doner, who spoke 23 languages at 16.

- Nina is a child soldier. She of course can handle the battlefield, although I imagine there’s a degree of trauma that she has to deal with (although it’s true that most of her work was always meant to angle her towards being a spy).

- Jesper was taught to shoot from a young age by Aditi, who was likely incredibly proficient. Plus, there’s mentions of him and his father being on some sort of frontier at one point in the books, so, it’s likely that Jesper got his fair share of ‘being a child soldier” since he would’ve been 15 or younger. Plus, with being a Fabrikator, he gets a leg up

- Jesper’s smart y’all, he just also likes to have fun

- I am a little terrified by the fact that I looked up ‘youngest sharpshooter’ and found out about a 9 year old girl (Addysson “Addy” Soltau) who can indeed shoot guns, but uh, it does prove my point

- Matthias... I haven’t heard anyone really argue about Matthias. He’s the oldest at 18 and again, he’s essentially a religious child soldier. Of course he would be built af and know how to handle himself in a fight, and in a flashback about meeting Trassel, we’re told that he was actually distanced from the other boys and was the biggest and strongest/smartest of the group. Perhaps not compared to Kaz, but still

- We know how Wylan ended up how he is, so I don’t think i have to defend how he’s both a musical prodigy, good at math, and good at chemistry. Plenty of kids who can’t do one thing will immediately gravitate to a different field (think AP math students who can’t write essays, or those kids who could analyse a book and it’s metaphors in class but didn’t understand geometry).

- Granted he took it far but it’s kinda implied that his father ignored him eventually and what else was Wylan going to do

- I don’t really know how he did chemistry while not being able to read the symbols and stuff, but that’s likely because I’ve never had to learn the way he did and also I really suck at Chemistry, but I refuse to believe that it invalidates his capabilities

Final Thoughts:

- They’re Traumatized Honors Students

- People might say that “it’s unrealistic that all the smart ones somehow ended up together” but again they’re traumatized honors students and those gravitate to each other

- Of course the smart ones ended up together, they’re the ones in those crazy situations precisely because they are prodigies. Nina wouldn’t have met Matthias if she wasn’t skilled and a spy, Kaz wouldn’t have known Inej if she hadn’t been skilled at silence (I can’t explain that one but uh ninjas did/do exist and it IS still a fantasy world). Kaz would have never been a leader of the Dregs in a position to find Jesper if he hadn’t been so determined to rise to the top, and Jesper wouldn’t have been in Ketterdam if his father hadn’t thought that Jesper was smart enough to get that chance.

- You know how those fringe revolutionary artists for new eras end up knowing all knowing each other and even hanging out? That’s them.

- I have decided there is a strong basis for Autistic Kaz, someone who is more studied than me should feel free to explore this.

- I read this book a few years ago, A Long Way Gone by Ishmael Beah. It’s about this guy’s experiences as a boy soldier and it’s a painful read so I’m not sure I recommend it as a casual read, but he talked about these young kids being able to actually make competent military strategies and handle warfare. It’s an extreme example of what I’m trying to explain when it comes to them being able to handle the brutality of their situation, but it’s true, essentially

- They are definitely serious, but if you think they’re not teenagers I just, disagree so much. They have moments of lighthearted banter, they make light of their situation, they try to support each other Nina covers it so well in her farewell at the end of Crooked Kingdom: The little rescues of laughing at each others jokes or eating together and just supporting each other, is not only a very human thing, but a very teenager thing.

- Scary experiences that shape us happen all the time, and although for most it’s not the things that the Crows experience, picking each other up is a big part of why they do read as teenagers to me. I’ve seen kids be able to seriously converse about things like being questioned by the police, or being left to their own devices for days at a time, or the general impending doom they all feel, and it’s dark, but they’re also going to joke about silly puns 20 minutes later.

- Teenagers aren’t exempt from terrifying maturity and competence

- Finally: Despite all I said, it’s a fantasy story and doesn’t have to be realistic

In the end, everyone can believe what they want to believe, but this is my case for my opinion.

TL;DR The Crows are all prodigies and a lot of their achievements and capabilities are based in reality and there are real people who actually achieved things like what they’ve done. Messed up prodigies gravitate to messed up prodigies, hence how they all end up together. When it comes to their mental state, most of them have been brought up their entire lives in situations that required for them to problem solve and keep their cool even when things are going to hell.

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hopelesshawks · 4 years ago

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If you're still doing it, and if you feel inspired with the character : Bakugou Katsuki and the song "From Now On" from The Greatest Showman.

You can write with another character if this one doesn't inspire you!

Send me a song and a character (still open)

Ohhhh I love this!! Pro hero!Bakugo who let all the fame of being number 2 get in the way of his relationship me thinks. Thanks for sending this in 🥰

Bakugo used to love the fame and attention that came with being a top hero.

He used to love the way people would scream his name with stars in their eyes when they saw him; the way the idiots in suits over at the HPSC would congratulate him on his incident resolution rate; the way the press would sing his praises; the way his name sounded after the words Number Two Hero even though he’d much rather hear it after number one. He loved it all.

But you?

You fucking hated it.

You always said it was the worst part of hero work. The fans, the paparazzi, all of it grated on you. You hated that since Bakugo had cracked the top 10 you two couldn’t go on date night without getting blinded by cameras. You hated going to HPSC galas in an expensive outfit you’d never wear a second time, sipping overpriced champagne even though you’d be just as happy with something a tenth of the price. You hated that you couldn’t go on social media without seeing speculation about your relationship and your sex life literally everywhere or even worse hundreds of people all stating exactly why you weren’t good enough to be with the Bakugo Katsuki. But what you hated the most was the way Bakugo loved it; the way he preened under the praise, his chest puffing up with pride, ego absolutely blooming under all the superficial attention; the way he’d kiss you in front of paparazzi just so the headlines would be filled with mention of you being his. The rest you could deal with but it made your skin crawl how much he’d change when the public’s watchful eye was on him. At home he was the man you fell in love with, but the minute you left he regressed to the obnoxious asshole you’d first met during your first year at UA.

It was a recipe for disaster and in retrospect Katsuki really should’ve seen the break up coming. He can barely remember what had set off the argument in the first place, probably another gaudy headline or crude Twitter trend about the two of you. You’d been upset about it, raving about invasions of privacy and feeling violated and he’d been dismissive, the way he always was when it came to these things.

“It comes with the territory, just fuckin’ get used ta it already,” he had scoffed.

“The issue is you encourage it Katsuki! You care more about the fame and how good it makes you feel than you do how that added scrutiny makes me feel!” you fired back.

“Why can’t you just fucking deal with it??”

“I shouldn’t have to!”

“Well maybe if you did your fuckin ranking would be better!”

It was a low blow. Bakugo knew it then and he still knows it now. You try so hard to be the best hero you can be, but at the end of the day popularity plays a nontrivial role in the ranking system and being the “““just average””” significant other to one of Japan’s biggest rising stars isn’t a recipe for popularity.

“Get out….”

Your voice had been dangerously low. He’ll never forget the way it managed to sound both terrifyingly lethal and devastatingly heartbroken.

“Shit, wait (y/n) I didn’t mean that I-”

“I said get out!” you had yelled, voice quaking with pent up emotion as you started shoving him out the door. If he really didn’t want to move he could’ve easily resisted but at the time he’d been too shocked to even try, reeling backwards and letting you force him back into the hallway of your apartment building.

“Talk to me when Bakugo Katsuki comes back, I’m fucking sick of Pro Hero Dynamight,” you had said before promptly slamming the door in his face.

In the month that followed Katsuki threw everything into his work, taking longer shifts and pushing himself harder so that by the time he got home he was too beat up to feel the aching pain in his heart and too exhausted to notice his apartment didn’t feel like home the way yours did. He ignored the pitying looks from his friends, brushed off their concerned words and sympathetic gazes with grumbled “I’m fine”s and eye rolls. He filled the hole you left in him with the praise and admiration of the adoring public.

And then came the day you’d been warning him about since he first became a household name.

“The Cost of Victory: Pro Hero Dynamight destroys city during villain chase”

The story matched the headline, tallying up all of the damage he’d caused to buildings and other public property while trying to apprehend someone’s half ass attempt at recreating nomu. As shoddy as the thing was it could take a fucking hit and there was no denying the collateral damage was decently expansive. What the article failed to mention, however, was the amount of damage done before Bakugo had arrived on scene. It made sure to comment on the number of casualties in the incident but conveniently left out how much larger that number would be had Katsuki spent more time worrying about some stupid hunks of metal over catching the damn monstrosity and saving civilian lives. He guesses “Pro Hero Dynamight does his best despite being out gunned and having zero back up at his disposal” isn’t as catchy or clickworthy of a headline.

The very same websites showering him in praise just a day or two before now viciously rip into him. He can’t take a step outside his apartment without seeing article after article shredding him to pieces or getting a camera shoved into his face asking for comment on the criticism. His Twitter feed is full of former fans deriding him for falling short of perfection, calling him a narcissist, a showboat, a fucking menace to society as if he’s the sixteen year old kid chained up at the sports festival all over again. So he stops leaving his apartment entirely.

Kirishima is the one who finally gets him out again. The bar they go to is small, further away from the downtown area than most people are willing to stray. Between that and the fact it’s still relatively early in the evening, they have the place to themselves. The only other soul is the owner/bartender who seems entirely uninterested in the fact that Red Riot and Dynamight are patronizing his establishment. It’s perfect, giving Bakugo the space he needs to rant to his best friend. And rant he does. He lets it all pour out while he paces: the frustration, the rage, the disappointment, the guilt, until there’s nothing left in him except an aching sadness that has nothing to do with the fake fans and shitty headlines. “Y’know what the worst fuckin’ part is?” he rages, face red from bellowing for the past lord knows how long and tears already welling in his eyes at what he’s about to admit. Kirishima barely has time to ask what the worst part is before Katsuki is choking out around a frustrated sob “I wouldn’t even give a shit if I still had (y/n).”

Kirishima is out of his seat and pulling his friend into a hug in an instant. He lets Bakugo shake apart, doesn’t mind the tears soaking into his shirt or how tightly the other man is gripping onto him. He stands solid and firm, the same way he always has and always will for Katsuki until the sobs turn to hiccups. “They’re worried about you, you know,” Eijirou finally tells him. “Yea? How the fuck you figure that Shitty Hair?” Bakugo grumbles miserably into his shoulder. “They’ve called me every day since the article came out to check on you,” the red head admits and it’s enough to make Katsuki stiffen in his hold, scared to hope. “Really?” he asks, voice gruff but quiet. “Really. So are you gonna go to them or what?”

You’ve been staring at your phone for at least an hour, debating whether to call Bakugo or not, when a knock on your door snaps you out of your pained contemplation. You pull the long sleeves of the hoodie Bakugo gave you for your birthday down over your hands as you move to answer the door. Imagine your surprise when the very man who’d been plaguing your thoughts is the one standing outside your door. He looks rough. His hands are shoved into his pockets, back hunched over, face red and puffy, and even though he hasn’t looked you in the eye yet you can tell his are red rimmed. He’s been crying, you realize, and it breaks your heart a little. “Ya just gonna stand there or can I come in?” he asks and it snaps you out of your thoughts again. “Right yea sorry come in I guess,” you say, stepping out of the way to let him in.

He’s almost twitchy, like he wants to make himself comfortable the way he always used to but can’t. You wince a little when you realize it’s the correct assumption to make. Still he doesn’t say anything, he just stands there looking somehow simultaneously out of place and like he never left. “What are you doing here?” you finally sigh. “You said talk to you when Bakugo Katsuki came back and he—or I—or whatever did,” he mutters and a pang of something that feels suspiciously like guilt hits you at the words. “Oh… Is—is that all you wanted to say or?” He glares at a distant point over your left shoulder, presumably collecting his thoughts, before he finally meets your gaze. “Look I-” he breaks eye contact again, growling a little in frustration at himself as he continues to struggle to find words. You don’t say anything though, knowing he needs to work through it himself. “Things have been pretty shit for me lately,” he finally admits. You can’t help but scoff at the comment although one look at him and his pained expression has you regretting it. You clear your throat awkwardly. “Sorry, yea, keep going.”

He huffs before continuing and even though he still won’t meet your eyes you can tell how difficult this all is for him.

“Look things have been pretty fuckin’ shitty lately with everyone and their goddamn cousin in Japan hatin’ me but it’s made me realize some shit. I’ve been so fuckin’ focused on chasin’ the fame and the fans or whatever that I kinda forgot about the important stuff…”

He only trails off for a moment, steeling himself for whatever he’s about to say next. It’s almost funny how much it reminds you of him right before a big fight.

“But from now on,” he starts, finally meeting your gaze, puffing out his chest as if daring you to challenge whatever’s going to come out of his mouth next. “From now on I’m not gonna let all that stupid shit blind me alright? I promise, from now on I’m only focusin’ on the real people in my life, not the goddamn extras. Ok?”

His eyes are blazing as he finishes and it literally takes your breath away.

“Ok.”

“Ok, then….” he trails off, his eyes slide away again as his confidence wanes, “then can I come back home again?”

Your heart shatters and forms anew at the words as you find your feet moving before you’ve even told them to. You throw yourself into his arms, pulling him close, the jagged edges you both left in each other the night you broke up re-aligning and mending themselves. “Of course you can Katsuki, I’ve missed you,” you sigh, each word wrapped in relief and joy. “Fuckin’ missed you too dumbass,” he huffs back, although you don’t miss how wet it sounds. When you pull back it’s only a fraction and only so you can reel him in for a gentle kiss, pouring every missed I love you into it so there’s no room for doubting if you’ve truly forgiven him.

It’s a promise. A promise to do better from now on. And Katsuki means every single second of it.

General Taglist: @ahtsuwu @oikawaandkuroostan @oliviasslut @black-rose-29

#hhrequests #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bnhacity

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ramblingguy54 · 4 years ago

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I know I shouldn't try to compare shows against one another but, unlike Andrias, Lunaris was such a lackluster villain for season 2. I wasn't seriously worried over the family's safety since he never did follow through on his threats on the kids. And they tried too hard to force a conflict between him and Scrooge because Scrooge didn't have any personal stake in this whole thing or any previous history with him.

I can understand that mindset.

DuckTales & Amphibia are like apples and oranges, where both stories have a different atmosphere of intent, so I can totally get why you'd feel self-conscious about that, anon. However, there are indeed similarities between King Andrias & Lunaris, given they both took advantage of significant characters through Della & Marcy. What sets Andrias apart though from what Lunaris tried to accomplish with his own respective invasion is he hit Marcy where it hurt most. Andrias made her believe he could be trusted as an outlet to vent to, but completely used the girl's baggage as ammunition to emotionally crush Marcy, enjoying every second of seeing the kid suffer so hard.

Lunaris doesn't interact with Della again after manipulating her, which seriously is a severe waste of what could have been emotionally crushing for Della. Della trusted Lunaris and showed him a drawing of what she thought her kids looked like, too. Throwing the spotlight of conflict back to Scrooge takes away that chance for Della to shine more as a character frustrating me to no end. Why should Scrooge get the attention when Della was the one used by a freaking scumbag? Scrooge being at the forefront of DuckTales does present a glaring issue with the show. It doesn't always hinder the story, as it can deliver on some powerful stuff, as seen with Last Crash Of The Sunchaser & Secrets Of Castle McDuck on that regard, but it represents an underlying consistent issue that is no better made clear, than in Season 3.

Lunaris threatened Della's kids as a way to scare her into hiding, sure, I'll give him props there for that was a smart idea. Although, what prevents this guy from reaching the caliber Andrias has is he doesn't follow through with being an actual threat. Once Lunaris takes over the world he's all, "Aite, I'm gonna sit down on my ass and not do shit.", which is one of my biggest issues with Moonvasion. I just simply can't buy into how Lunaris managed to overthrow everyone with his troops. Like, how the actual fuck did his army even manage to outmatch some of the most skilled individuals in Duckburg Scrooge had at his disposal? Sure, there were a lot of Moonlanders, but its all about the quality of their skill not quantity. I'd argue they shouldn't have struggled as much as they did against Lunaris' troops, given they only had a bit of training to prepare for invading their Earth. Season 2's finale is simply ridiculous on that regard.

When Andrias revealed his true nature and quickly built an army I felt the terror he instilled from the get go. This dude has the strength, resources, and intelligence to get shit done, unlike Lunaris. Never mind the fact he is massive beyond belief, which this particular frame sells with a perfectly ominous tone. At that moment Anne was about to give him the Calamity Box I was scared shitless of what this guy was gonna put the main cast through on a traumatic level. One of the most important things you can do for selling a villain is making the viewer feel a sense of dread whenever they're simply on screen. They don't even have to necessarily do anything, either. Just their presence can be enough to make someone go, "Oh, damn. Things are about to get wild in the worst way possible for these heroes.", which Andrias totally accomplishes this idea with flying colors. Even DuckTales Season 1 understood this through showing Magica's looming dark presence around Lena and abusing her, too.

Andrias has a personal connection to each of this cast of characters, which is why his revelations of being evil totally make their anger, pain, and sadness feel so genuinely earned. We got to see time spent with them interacting around King Andrias for the first half of Season 2 and especially seeing the trust Marcy had in him, too. That's why Andrias' betrayal to each of one them is painful to watch because he hurt all of these people in the best way a villain can do, by throwing that optimism in their faces to brag about it. This man literally crushed Marcy's hopes and dreams laughing his ass off saying, "Whoops, looks like I spilled the tea, as you kids say!", rubbing the harsh truth in her face and everyone else's, as well.

Andrias is a prime example of how to write a villain. Lunaris is how you drop the ball with writing a big baddie for a show.

#amphibia spoilers #amphibia season 2 finale #amphibia true colors #amphibia #ducktales 2017 #king andrias #lunaris #amphibia season 2 #anon asks #anon answers #ducktales discourse #putting this tag here just to be safe #like don't get me wrong I love ducktales 2017 #however it definitely isn't without issues #especially when looking at season 3

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barnesbabee · 5 years ago

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He’s Dancing Like A Stripper || C.S

Summary: Strippers were made to get people’s attention, but what happens when you catch their attention?

Pairing: Choi San x Reader

Words: Billions of them

Genre: Smut

A/N: I have some kinky followers. You’re my favourites. Enjoy xx💖

REQUESTS SUPER OPEN

---- THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING ANON ----

It's not that you regretted it, but you certainly didn't love it here.

Your mom was getting re-married, and she insisted for you to be at her bachelorette party. Of course you didn't want to be there (around middle-aged women that had about nothing to talk to you about), but you also didn't want to disappoint your mom or make her sad, so you agreed to go.

You thought that after the gins and extravagant dancing at some random club you'd be done, but oh were you wrong. One of your mom's friends suggested that you go to a strip club to "celebrate her last days of freedom". You dreaded the idea.

If you were with your friends it might have been fun, but you were absolutely not looking forward to appreciating men's bodies with your mom and her friends. You tagged along nevertheless because you're a good daughter.

You sat with your "group" in one of the pink fur sofas, bewildered by the ambient. It smelled of alcohol, horny people, and desperation. You shifted in your seat, clearly uncomfortable at the women beside you screaming at the toned man in almost no clothing dancing teasingly in front of you. He swayed his hips along to the song, adding in complementary body rolls as his hands followed his movements.

You averted your eyes from the scene and accidentally ended up making eye contact with one of the other strippers on a separate stage. The man didn't break the contact, he simply smirked and bit his lip as he kept working his hips.

The man was certainly one of the most (if not the most) attractive men in the room. He had perfectly combed back, coal colored hair with shaved sides, wide shoulders and a jawline to die for.

The stripper quickly finished his shift and disappeared behind the curtains of his stage. You let out a breath you didn't know you had been holding for a while now and snapped back to reality, as if the man's eyes had put you in some sort of trance.

You decided you needed some air, since you couldn't use your phone inside the club, and you were oh so bored.

You made your way out of the door for a second, to scroll down Instagram and reply to some messages before your mom realized that you didn't actually need air, you were just sick of the night.

It had been almost five minutes, and you were ready to go inside when someone spoke up beside you.

"I've seen many expressions inside that room, bored surely wasn't one of them."

You looked up to see the owner of the soft voice, only to see the male stripper that had caught your attention. He still had the stage makeup and the perfectly styled hair, but he was now wearing a black Adidas tracksuit. You smirked at him.

"Nothing caught my eye." You told him teasingly.

The male grabbed the zipper of his jacket and pulled it down slightly, partially exposing his bare chest.

"Is that so?" He questioned in the same tone.

Your eyes rested on his exposed skin for a second and then traveled back up to his eyes.

"Is that part of some plan?" You asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest and raising an eyebrow at him.

"It's part of the plan where I take you to my room backstage and you let me fuck you."

The sincerity of the statement amused you. You laughed faintly at the man and shook your head.

"And this is the part where your plan doesn't work because I'm not going anywhere but back inside."

You turned on your heels so you could return to your mom's side when he grabbed your wrist.

"Come on, I've never seen someone so bored in there, I loved it. I loved that none of those half-naked men peaked your interest, it's as if their presence was a bother." He stepped closer to you and whispered in your ear "I wanna make you unbored."

You inhaled a sharp breath and stepped back slightly.

"I- I can't. My mom is inside, she asked me to be present in her bachelorette party I can't just leave her."

The man grabbed your hip, pulled you towards him, and kissed your jaw.

"She won't even notice you're gone, and I promise you you'll have the best night of your life."

Your mind was saying no but the alcohol and the pool forming between your legs said yes.

Fuck it.

You looked him in the eye and smirked.

"Are you going to show me that room then?"

One of the man's hands slid from your waist to your ass and gave it a squeeze as he bit his lip.

The male guided you to the small room in the back of the strip club. The hallway leading to said room had several other doors, which you assumed were for the other workers. You two reached the very last door and he opened it for you.

The floor was made out of dark wood and the walls were red. A black, round, large rug decorated the floor. To your right, by the door was a grey vanity with some makeup spread on it, on the wall in front of you was a black closet with sliding mirror doors, and, finally, to your left was a big black couch and a white coffee table in front of it. There weren't many decorations, besides some photos of what you assumed were his best stage moments hung in the wall.

You looked around and took in the scenario. The male crept up behind you and traced your curves with his hands.

"San." He whispered in your ear.

You looked at him, confused.

"My name is San, just so you know what to yell."

You blushed a little at the realization that you accepted a one night stand with a man whose name you didn't even know.

"I'm Y/N..." You told him quietly.

He turned you around and kissed you softly, starting by your jaw, then your cheek, and then the corner of your mouth. His lips ghosted over yours and your desperation for him made you close the gap.

Your arms draped around his neck as San's hands worked on undoing the buttons of your cute pink button-up dress.

Once he'd gotten all the buttons you let go of him for a second to let the dress fall off of your shoulders, then reconnecting your lips and attaching your hands to his neck.

San's kiss had the right amount of passion and roughness to it, as he suckled on your tongue and bit on your lower lip. The male disposed of his jacket swiftly and moved his lips down to your neck. He bit down on some spots and as he did it, your hand traveled to the hem of his pants. Your fingers tugged on the strings of the sweatpants, undoing the bow that was holding them up. The item of clothing fell down to the man's feet and your hand was free to palm the man's clothed member.

You moaned at a particular bite he gave you and he smiled at it. You placed your hands on his chest and pulled him away softly. You then dropped to your knees and slowly pulled down the waistband of his tight boxers, allowing his member to spring free.

You were quite surprised at the length and instantly felt the desire to see if it fit whole in your mouth. You wrapped your fingers around his shaft and swirled your tongue around his tip, tasting the precum.

San's fingers found your chin and tipped it, making you stare at him while you sucked him off. You went as far as possible, until his tip collided with the back of your throat, making you gag. San grabbed your hair and repeated the process until you had to gasp for air.

The man chuckled at your appearance and made you swallow his cock once more. A couple of tears escaped your left eye and there was drool all around your mouth. San's breath quickened and his hands left your hair, letting you take full control.

"Fuck Y/N, I'm coming."

You let his cock hit the back of your throat a couple more times before pulling away and stopping completely. San looked down at you with a darkened expression and chuckled. The man knelt down, so he could face you, and grabbed your jaw.

"You're gonna wish you'd never done that." He threatened.

As if it was nothing, the man swung you over his shoulder and threw you on the couch. He removed your soaked panties as quickly as possible and attacked your breasts with his mouth. San's fingers found their way between your folds and he inserted not one, not two, but three fingers in you. You yelled out his name loudly, not caring about who heard you. You didn't know what to do, the feeling of his mouth and his merciless fingers were too much for you and you loved it.

San curled his fingers inside you and moved them around. Your high pitched moan announced how close you were, and that's just what San wanted to hear.

"You want to come now, don't you?"

You nodded desperately, already regretting not letting him cum in your mouth. He pulled out his fingers and inserted them in his mouth, making sure you watched as he licked them clean.

San then knelt on the sofa and spread your legs wider so he could position himself in between them.

"I'm gonna make you scream my name."

You couldn't describe you much you wanted him ramming into you, and never before had you craved something you'd never had. San entered you without permission and you instantly grabbed onto the sofa's pillows as you took him all in. God he was huge.

San grabbed one of your legs and placed it over his shoulder while the other held your waist.

As you were already sensitive from his fingers, it didn't take long for you high to approach.

"San... San I'm coming." You announced.

His pace sped up, and you yelled out for his name as you clenched around him and your back arched. He did not stop thrusting into you, however. He sped up even more and slapped your inner thigh harshly. The overstimulation was becoming too much to bear, and your legs started shaking at the feeling.

"Oh my God San please..."

Your little beg made him pull out and paint your stomach with his cum.

He looked down at your pretty, petite figure all fucked out.

"Have you ever thought of becoming a sex worker?"

#san #choi san #san smut #choi san smut #ateez #ateez san #ateez smut #ateez scenario #kpop smut #kpop

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chayacat · 4 years ago

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Devil’s Sweet Star (12)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

WARNING: This chapter include a rather disturbing scene that is an organ exit, specifically, the intestines and...Other things. If you are a sensitive potato, I apologize for the potential disgust or potential nightmare following this passage. But if you are one of those who has already seen much worse with the saga Saw or Leatherface ... I don't know what to say. ('-') Well then... Have a good read!

***

Do you like to go out at night, when the starry sky honors you with its presence? It's always a fascinating show and it's even more so when a shooting star or an aurora borealis appear. For some, it's the perfect view, the perfect time to show your feelings to the person you love. For others, it’s the spirits of those who have left us who, from heaven, look at us and protect us. And for the Nordics, the aurora borealis is the bridge that connects Midgard and Asgard.

But tonight, it was just a starry sky. A beautiful and mesmerizing starry sky that Danny was looking, leaning against his van. If he had a cigarette on him, he would have smoked it while watching the sky. But Danny wasn't a big fan of cigarettes, in fact he didn't like it at all. He didn't understand why people were ruining their health with such a poison. And the same was true for alcohol. He had no more than two drinks. He had already had the bitter experience of both too many times with his parents.

Hmph. His "parents." Danny calls them his tormentors instead. He remembers his “life” with his parents, his HELL’S life. Since he was young, Danny’s parents treated him like a dog, beating him and insulting him every time for nothing. He did everything to have the attention and love that a child must have. But he received nothing but hatred and disgust from them. His father was an alcoholic and a huge smoker. His mother smoked very little but was obsessed with religion.

For them, Danny was just a mistake, an unwanted child that they had to treat as such. And that's what they did. And if he thought he would find solace in making friends... he was wrong. His classmates made fun of him, and he found himself alone... always alone. He always avoided problems, but when he had to defend himself from the bullies of his school... He did. And if his parents played the comedy in front of the teachers, once at home, Danny was beaten to the point of losing consciousness once.

His years of college and high school were no better... but no worse either. In high school, he had managed to make friends, with whom he often made the wall to go and have fun at night. At that time, he no longer feared the wrath of his parents, especially his "father". He was a cute little boy when he was a child, and as a teenager he was a handsome boy, who attracted a lot of attention. His current appearance, apart from size, has not changed since.

How many girls wanted to go out with him? hundreds. How much did he have been in a relationship? Just two. And one of those two relationships ended badly. Yet he remembered an evening at the fair where he and his friends consulted a fortune teller. He didn't believe in this stuff but it was always a good time to have fun.

“Your life has been nothing but sadness and suffering my boy. But soon, a new life will be offered to you and one day you will finally find the one that is linked to you. The chosen one of your heart, is not here young man, but elsewhere.” she said. He remembers smiling, holding a laugh so as not to offend the old woman. But later, one of his visions proved correct.

“Where do you think you're going like that, you dirty little jerk?! You're not going anywhere! you hear me??” His Dad shout, beating him again.

But this time... It had to stop. He had struck him in return, with a force he did not know himself. Her mother squeaked when she saw her husband on the ground, slightly frightened but still angry.

“I've done everything. Absolutely EVERYTHING to have even a little love! AND WHAT DID I GET?! ONLY BEATINGS AND INSULTS! ... But it's over. I get out of here and believe me that you will have NOTHING of me. You can both go to hell. I hope you die in the worst way there is in this f****ng world.”

And since that day, he has never felt so free and so alive. But what this fortune teller told him always kept him in mind. And if that person with whom he was related... the chosen one of his heart... was simply... You?

Since you both met, you are the only person who has been so pleasant, innocent and... kind to him. Of course, you’re acting like this because he was acting as Jed. But if Jed had never existed, if he had only been himself... Would it have been the same thing?

Maybe... that you'd be in a relationship. He would love you as much as you would love him. He'd protect you, do anything to make you happy. Of course, he would never tell you about his... second "job." But what if you get sick? To the point of ending up in the hospital and dying just like...

“Danny...” He shakes his head. He doesn’t want to remember that. NEVER again.

“Come on Danny. Stay focused. You can’t screw all you've made until now.” He whispers to himself before he puts his Ghostface’s mask on.

He faced Mike's house. Certainly, Mckellan had to die first on the list but... the desire to eviscerate Mike was stronger, more enticing, more... Exciting. Danny licked his lips, thinking about how he was going to take care of his next victim. He had prepared everything, orchestrated and imagined the faces of the unfortunates who would find his corpse.

He's going to pay. Oh yes, he's going to pay SO MUCH for all the humiliation that Danny has endured since he started working at Roseville's Gazette. He's going to regret every fucking word he's said about him. Every fucking blow he's given her. And his attempt to strangle him... in front of everyone... will be the fatal blow that Danny will return to him.

Danny took a gift package and sneaked up to Mike's house. Even if he knows that at this time, everyone is asleep in this neighbourhood, it is better to be careful of a potential walker. He had parked in the same place as last time; he knew that no one ever went there.

He reached the kitchen window and saw it slightly open, so he took advantage of this opportunity to enter the interior without making any noise. He immediately walked to the basement, which was right in front of the kitchen, and went downstairs, realizing to the sound of the water that Mike was in his bathroom, taking a shower. Just perfect.

He rediscovered Mike's "playroom", the one in which he practiced his... disgusting and twisted fantasies. And he's the one we call f****ng psycho? Hmph, Danny found the champion in this category. He admits to being a little crooked sometimes, but really far from doing that kind of crap.

He placed his "gift" on the table before taking an object heavy enough to knock Mike out. As well as a rope to be able to tie him. On the practical side, he didn't need to take anything. Everything was provided to him on the spot, for once.

"How nice you are Mickey... make it easier for me at this point, I would have almost taken you as an assistant ... if you weren’t a fucking pedophile and a drug addict. What a waste. Well, time to call.” Danny said taking out another disposable phone. He hid in a corner of the room, so that Mike would not see him and composed his number. Hoping he got out of the bathroom.

“Hello? Who the f**k is there?” said Mike on the other line. His voice was hoarse and tired. Looks like he smoked more than he should.

“Hello Mickey...Miss me? I hope so.” respond Danny sneering about this situation.

“You little...motherf***er! I don’t know who the f**k you are but you gonna regret everything you do to me, you little shit!”

“What a lovely language...Look since you didn't like my previous gift, I brought you another one... He's in the basement. Why don't you open it? I'm sure you'll like this one!”

“Go f**k yourself with your gift! You trapped me once! and it's already too much for me to leave you alive!” Said Mike enraged.

“You could make an effort Mickey... I bend over backwards to find you a gift to make me forgive and you don't even want to go and see what it is. You're breaking my heart. Too bad... I guess I can send your photos to the authorities... they'll be happy to put you in jail.” Replied Danny getting ready to hang up.

“Rrrrr...Okay Okay ! I'm going to open your gift! You psycho...”

He heard Mike heading towards the stairs before descending to the basement. the excitement caused Danny to tremble, he was waiting for only one thing: for Mike to open his "gift" and see his reaction before knocking him out. And once attached... the party can begin.

He went deeper into the darkness when he saw Mike advancing towards the table where the gift package was. Danny's hands trembled with excitement as Mike trembled with fear. After a moment of hesitation, Mike finally opened the package and backed away, swearing and holding back from vomiting.

Remember when I said a "head was going to fall"? Well, a head actually fell. A man's head now stood on this table, and for Mike it was not unknown to him because he was one of his drug dealers, the one who offered him the best drugs.

The head was cut with sharpness and precision worthy of a surgeon. the face was marked by the drug that this man was consuming and dark circles almost as black as coal were plummeting before his eyes. Teeth had been torn off and tongue cut off.

Mike recoiled a few more metres before feeling a hand on his shoulder, when he turned, he had no time to react and received a blow, strong enough to knock him out. Danny looked at his unconscious body, a diabolical smile on his face. He took the rope and a chair, then lifted Mike's heavy body to attach it to it. He weighed his weight the animal!

“Look at this... What a beautiful sight. Ah Mickey... I will make you my most beautiful bloody work the world has ever seen... I'm going to make myself a huge pleasure to cut you pieces into pieces... make you suffer until your last breath.” Said Danny before laughing, thinking about all this.

Mike awoke after 30 minutes and, quickly noticing that he was tied to the chair, he tried to untie the ties. Unfortunately for him, Danny had tightened them up to the max. The latter came up to him, sneering, passing his gloved finger over the blade of his knife.

“Sleep well? I was starting to worry I thought I'd killed you too fast... it would have been a shame after everything I've planned for you... Don't you think so?” He said taking Mike's face with his hand.

“You’re f***ing twisted! You’re a crazy psycho! Let me go! Said Mike giggling in his chair.

“Oh... Not right now. We've just met face to face... I'm not going to shorten this moment so quickly.” replied Danny approaching his knife to Mike’s cheek. “So, do you like my gift? I must admit It wasn’t easy to find him because...He’s like a rat running everywhere in the house to steal some food. But he was so cooperative after I ripped off his tooth and cut off his tongue.

“P-P-Please...Don’t do this! Take everything you want!”

“Everything?” Said Danny before exploding with laughter. “But everything I want is your SCREAMS and you DEATH. After all you did, this is all you deserved. Fair enough don’t you think? But you know what? Since you're going to die... you’ll see your executioner's face.” He replied before taking off his mask.

“Ol...Olsen...”

“Oh, it’s true. My name is NOT Jed Olsen.” He said cutting off each of his hands with a blow, which made Mike scream a lot. “I’m Danny Johnson...The Ghostface. And I'm gonna take a real pleasure to slaughter you for everything you've done to me... You're not going to be a loss anyway. Because unlike you... I don't spend my fantasies on children."

He put on his mask on and thrust his knife deep into Mike's stomach, killing him like a pig. he pulled out the intestines that hung like ropes. he stabbed him many times, piercing his eyes, cutting his virility and his tongue before finishing him off with a sharp blow to the throat. Blood squirted everywhere, and in this show, Danny's crazy laugh was heard, he had nothing to fear, Mike had soundproofed the room for his... Fantasies. No one outside could hear it... and no one was going to come to Mike's house at this hour.

But it wasn't over oh no... He has to finish his work. He took Mike's intestines and cut them into fine pieces before throwing them all over his corpse like confetti that’s thrown at a party. After all, it's a party, isn't it? He took the drug dealer's decapitated head and carefully placed it in Mike's arms with a little message on it: "I, Mike Harris, killed this man without any remorse." And he placed Mike’s d**k on his mouth instead of his tongue which layed on the ground.

“I don't like being robbed of the star Mickey... but I confess that making you look like a murderer on this one makes me laugh a lot... We'll keep you the worst image of your existence, pedophile, drug addict and murderer. Jackpot. Now...Say Cheese!” Said Danny before taking a picture. “One down. There's one left. Sooner or later McKellan...you’ll meet the devil himself. And then... I could focus a little more on my sweet angel.”

As with every murder, he erased all traces of his passage, and after making sure of it, he left as discreetly as he had arrived. Then he took the road to go home. But before sinking into the arms of Morpheus... A small visit is necessary.

The window of your bedroom was barely open, but that's more than enough for Danny to pass his knife and open the window just enough to pass. You were sleeping peacefully, the blanket almost covering your head but he could still see your face, your little and adorable angel face... He stood frozen in front of you for a few seconds, a smile on his face. Then he took a picture, an umpteenth trophy, an umpteenth memory.

“Don’t worry... Soon, all your problems will disappear... and I'd be the ONLY one to obstruct your thoughts. In a good way. Sleep well, my little sweet star...And never forget...” He said, kissing your forehead. “You’re mine. And only MINE.”

And then he vanished. As if no one had ever entered this intimate place... But little by little... The devil tightens his grip on you. Even if he will continue to scare you... He will do anything to be the only object of your obsessions.

And he won't let anyone near you.

***

(And it’s done! Phew thinking about Mike’s death wasn’t easy but I've made it! Again, I hope you’ll enjoy it like the other ones and if you got some questions or you just want to talk you can! For now, the French potato girl I am will get some rest! have a good week end everyone! See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

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bluebellhairpin · 5 years ago

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Fight or Flight, Rider [8]

Poe Dameron X Pilot!Reader

A/N: This series ain’t dead yet people! And Rider isn’t dead yet either! - Nemo

Summary: Rider becomes commander of the most dangerous ship in the First Order. Poe and company freak out over a thought-loss. And some certain emo boys get a beating.

Warning(s): Mentions of Blood. There’s a dead body that shows up once too.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

As it turned out, the entire new ship was strategically filled with - what the First Order would call - defective StormTroopers. Much like the Resistance’s beloved Finn, they didn’t want to fight.

They were waiting for their Poe Dameron to give them a chance to get away.

And they got you.

However this situation was much different to Poe’s. Instead of one Trooper, you had a huge ship-full. Instead of a TIE-Fighter you had, well, one huge ship - more like once you disposed of the Officers, you’d have the ship.

As the two unhelmeted Troopers led you through the ship, other Troopers removed their helmets in tandem, and as that spread, blaster shots and yells could be heard from the halls in the distance. It was a mutiny. Caused by little old you.

“What do we call you?” the first Trooper - MO-3679 - asked, “I don’t think ‘The Rebel’ would fit anymore.”

“Rider, calling me Rider is fine.” you said. Giving your nickname felt like the better thing to do, no where in any records was there listed a ‘Rider’, however there was a ‘(y/n)’, and you were not about to be tracked or locked up again.

Walking wasn’t really doing you too well at the moment, since you were clutching your side in an effort to try and stop the pain in your ribs. But MO said that they’d need you at the command. You knew the Resistance best, you’d know how to properly fight and escape the First Order. You reassured MO that she and the other Troopers seemed to have a good handle on the situation as it was, she still diagreed.

“Attention,” a speaker overhead crackled to life, “First Order personnel have been eradicated. Prepare for the jump to Hyperspace.”

You looked over at MO, raising an eyebrow.

“The kriff does that mean?”

“All the commanding Officers have been ejected out to space.” She said, acting like it was absolutely not something to be worried about. “So now you’re officially in command of this ship.”

Okay. That’s a touch shocking, if not unexpected.

“And hyperspace?” you asked, “This ship isn’t completed enough to be able to withstand a jump. Parts would still be exposed.”

“That’s what we wanted everyone to think,” the other Trooper - KS-6836 - answered as MO started opening the door ahead of you, “This ship isn’t just hyperspace ready. It’s shields are fully operational, as well as it’s weapons system. It’s fully functional. We just needed the First Order to not know that.”

You decided then and there to just not be surprised at anything anymore.

The door slid open with a hiss, revealing a large and rather busy-looking bridge. Troopers were manning every station, and over in one corner was a pile of white helmets. An Officer Trooper approached you, their helmet was only tucked under an arm, not on the pile with the rest.

“You’re the Resistance fighter.” They said, nodding at MO and KS, before walking back the way they came. You assumed you were meant to follow, because they kept talking. “The Resistance wasn’t entirely told what this ship was made for, so I’ll tell you now to make up for it. It was meant as a tracker. A Hunting ship. It’s untrackable, and impossible to trace.”

“It was made to destroy the Resistance?” you concluded.

You’d seen plans for smaller, lighter ships for that purpose on Nephimm. They were to be specifically made for the best pilots you’d have, to be sent out into the galaxy and battles to scope out exactly what was happening without being seen. You piloted one when you went to the rescue back on Criet.

But how did the First Order get plans so similar to the ones back on your home planet?

The Officer nodded, pressing their lips together, before breaking out in a grin.

“And now it’s going to destroy the First Order. Ironic, isn’t it?”

__________

Poe was freaking out.

Much like everyone else in the control room, his emotions had been on a roller coaster from the moment you exited hyperspace at the First Order’s end, and since their connection with Z2 ended, the room was crossed between anxious, sorrowful, and overall hopelessness.

They’d just lost their best pilot, even though no one would admit it with Poe in the room.

“General, what do we do?” Gareth asked, “We need to do something, right?”

“Of course we need to do something!” Daylen said, stepping forward to stand around the table, “Rider’s gone, so you kriffed up there big time, now we need to fix it. We go in and hit them with everything we’ve got.”

“No, we will not do that,” Leia said, leaning forward, sharing a look with Rey - who had joined them just as their feed cut out minutes ago, “We’ll wait, just a little longer. (y/n)’s strong, she might’ve made a way out.”

“You really think that?” Poe asked, voice cracking ever-so-slightly. “You really think she’s still alive?” Leia smiled knowingly.

“You don’t?”

__________

“Ren is on that ship, you know that right?”

“Of course, why did you think I’d give you the order otherwise?” you looked back at the trooper at the controls to your right, smiling. They shrugged.

“Because you’re a sadist?” they offered. You shook your head, smile falling so slightly.

“If Ren is on that ship, then we hit it and we hit it hard, right where it hurts. If we can end things here we will, and if we can’t then we still make sure they know we were here.”

“I think they’ll know when we aren’t here.” the trooper quipped again, “It’s a big ship you know.”

You turned to face them fully, wiping away the blood from the cut on your cheek that was, somehow, still bleeding.

“What’s your name?”

“TR-7182.” You quirked up an eyebrow.

“Not gonna rename yourself?” They glanced up at you, smiling widely.

“You wanna do that for me?”

“Lower the enthusiasm, cheap shot,” you scoffed, “Anyone here could rename you.”

“I can!” MO said, jumping from her place where she was at the door behind KS. You barked out a laugh, nodding at her as she continued to blabber at her new companion. She was actually rather friendly, you’d found.

“Rider, canons are hot, ready to fire at your leisure.”

You nodded at the new news, looking out at the two Star-Destroyers, with narrowed eyes.

“Shields up, now.” you said, “Fire!”

__________

“General!” D’Acy said, looking over to the huddle from her screen across the room. “The new ship - the one Rider went to destroy - it’s firing on the other two Destroyers.”

“What?”

“What we’re monitoring, it’s -” D’Acy stopped, shaking her head in disbelief.

“- The ship’s gone off radar, but the Destroyers are taking hits.” Cyro clarified, Rose poking her head over the Mirialan’s shoulder.

“They’re being… Destroyed.”

Poe went over to the screen, seeing exactly what was described.

“That makes no sense,” he said, casting a look at Finn, “Why would they fire on each other?”

“Don’t look at me, I don’t work with them anymore. Remember?” Finn shrugged. “I will say, that is a bit weird though.”

__________

“Our shields are holding well. The Destroyers have taken enough damage to cause a chain reaction.”

You nodded, talking to the trooper on your left.

“I want to see that chain go off. Fire a few more shots, then we’ll get out of here.” You said, pressing in the Resistance base coordinates into the pad in front of you. Then a thump came from the window above you. “Oh, ew.”

Groans came from the crew, seeing the frozen body of one of the Officers from before float back away again. They obviously didn’t push him out of an airlock near the back of the ship. It was a bit gross.

The ship fired again, rocking you a little with the force it sent off, and landing two hits on each Destroyer, and just like the trooper said, a chain went off, explosions of red went off all over the ships.

“Let’s beat it, kids. We’ve done our damage.”

The ship turned a little, before starting off with a slight lurch.

“Entering hyperspace in three, two, one.”

__________

Series Taglist: @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @writefightandflightclub @robindoesntloveme @kiaralein @danicalifxrnia @americasass-romanoff @morgannope @smolpeachees @afootnoteinyourhappiness @lonelydarlings @rae-rae-patcha @oakleyves @seninjakitey @fanfin-glutton @softly-sad @liadamerondjarin @music-geek19

Poe Dameron Taglist: @p3nny4urth0ught5 @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @hp-marvel-starwars-kotlc

Both Taglists are Open!

#fight or flight rider #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron series #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars series

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theimprobabledreamersworld · 4 years ago

Link

Yayy! Despite trying to fight off a monster of a cold, I’ve got a new chapter written! :D

As I mentioned yesterday, this one is written from Logan’s POV because I’ve been wanting to create a back story for him in this story :)

I’ll post the chapter under a line on here, but please check it out on Ao3 too! I love reading comments and stuff to find out what people think :)

Hope you like it!

Taglist: @psychedelicships @edupunkn00b @jwillowwolf @kacklingisanart @look-ma-im-on-tv @stardustlv @lost-in-thought-20

Chapter 5. My Heart Was Made Of Stone. And You Broke It Twice.

“But the wind has changed. My walls are weakening. They’re gonna fall soon. And I’m gonna need you.”

Logan was a man who always kept his emotions in check. He never let himself get too consumed by any kind of feeling. Happiness, sadness, love, hate, anger… Ever since he was sixteen, he refused to be vulnerable ever again. If you’re vulnerable, you can be broken. He had been broken far too many times when he was growing up.

His parents were agreeable, he couldn’t deny that… but he was never enough for them. Even as a young child, nothing was quite good enough. He remembered when the class teacher told his parents that he was the first child to learn how to write his name… he stretched up to show them and they let the paper flutter to the floor saying it wasn’t neat enough. He was only four! It got worse as he got older. Every time he was proud of something he had achieved, like getting a high grade, he was always asked why it wasn’t full marks. The unattainable goals were never reached and it took a lot to even vaguely satisfy them. He worked himself into the ground for the entirety of his school life, it affected his health, but they still weren’t happy. He was never strong enough, creative enough, serious enough, smart enough… and it hurt so much to know that. His friends however were amazing, they would always encourage him and make him take breaks when they knew he was working way too hard. They could always cheer him up and he was eternally grateful for that. Logan clenched his fists… he hated how much it knocked him down when he would walk in smiling over something that happened at school, to be told they weren’t interested and to just go and study. He always set himself up for the fall almost every day… no wonder emotions became such a hinderance. Luckily, music was his salvation for about eight years.

Logan took his head out of his hands, readjusted his eyes to the light and felt how raw they were from crying before staring at the dusty piano in the house intently. He used to be pretty good at playing. He loved his classical music, and still does. Just not playing it anymore. When he still had lessons, he was always thrilled with the challenge of increasingly difficult pieces given to him by his teacher. It was funny, his music teacher was the only person who ever truly believed in him. He was also the one person who could convince Logan to perform. The last concert he ever played in was the day before his sixteenth birthday, he played his most difficult piece to date… Chopin’s Fantasie Impromptu Op 66. They decided on that because it was originally a piece that no one was ever supposed to hear, Chopin never wanted it to be released after he died… but they did it anyway. His teacher said that he could then perform it however he wanted to, artistic interpretation and all that. He practiced and practiced at school so his parents wouldn’t hear it before. When it got to the concert, and his parents actually turned up, he was genuinely surprised. He walked out on the stage and sat down looking for his teacher who gave him a smile and a thumbs up, then the music began. He felt almost like he was watching himself play, he had never played with such determination before and as the final note rung out… there was silence. Before the room broke out into applause, his teacher was standing up clapping vigorously, then some of his classmates and other parents stood up too. His parents however were sat down, clapping politely with a neutral expression on their faces and Logan’s smile faltered. He gave a quick bow and walked quickly off the stage. His teacher followed him and gave him a hug while telling him how proud he was. Logan couldn’t stop the tears, he had never cried in front of another person, but no one had ever been proud of him before either. How embarrassing. The first time he had been shown positive interest by someone he respected, and he cried until the top of their shirt was damp with his tears. His teacher just held him and told him everything was okay. After he had calmed down and the tears had stopped, he went to go and join his parents for the second half of the concert, but their seats were empty.

In that moment, he didn’t get upset again and stayed unusually calm, and he knew that this was the final straw. He stayed at a hotel for the night at the insistence of his teacher, that way he could sort out his head and start looking up different apartment options. Which he did realise could be tricky as a sixteen-year-old… but he was smart, reliable, didn’t drink or smoke and had a substantial amount of money at his disposal. He waited until the morning and snuck back into his parent’s house to collect all of the things that he deemed necessary. Thankfully, the hotel manager was understanding and let him stay for the bare minimum price until he could find an apartment for himself. It took a few months, and the landlord had to be persuaded by his music teacher, but he found an apartment which was close to everything he needed and was affordable. One day, he would repay that teacher back for everything he had done for him.

He looked at the calendar, the picture of him and Virgil smiling and holding up their wedding ring hands was taunting him on the wall. He noticed the date. Wow, it had been ten years since he left without looking back, and he never heard a single word from them.

That was clearly for the best.

Ever since then, he never let emotions get the better of him ever again. However, as he looked around at the decimated living room, he had clearly broken and let all of those emotions consume him once again. Logan inspected the damage, as he traced the hole in the wall, the shattered photo frames and glass covering the floor, it caused his heart to fill up with regret. His heart was already full of pain, the regret was enough to make his heart quite literally tear in two. Virgil was the first person he felt like he could be vulnerable with again. When they first met, there was something about him, something that reminded him of himself. Maybe this guy was just as broken as he was, as he saw him hiding in the corner of the coffee shop trying to stay away from the world. He told Virgil this many times, but he had encased his heart in stone to keep it safe. As their relationship developed, as stupid as it sounds, he could feel the stone wall cracking and breaking off piece by piece, and he honestly didn’t mind in the slightest.

Now, he didn’t know what was going on with his heart. He was hurt, he was angry. It’s not every day you find out that the man you’ve been married to for the last five years spent most of his life as a well-trained and dangerous assassin. Going by Virgil’s words alone, the body count to his name is staggering and who knows how many people he’s hurt over the years. The argument they had earlier in the evening was playing on repeat in his mind.

“I couldn’t tell you!” Virgil shouted across the room.

“Why the hell not?! I’m your fucking HUSBAND Virgil, you are supposed to trust me. No matter what’s happened in your past!” Logan rubbed his forehead in frustration.

“Okay, you want to know why I hid everything from you? I did it to PROTECT you! My past is something that can be used against me, it is still being used against me. If anyone from it came after you… I would never be able to forgive myself!” The tears wouldn’t stop rolling down Virgil’s face as he spluttered out the words while his body shook with sobs.

Despite the hurt of seeing Virgil in so much pain, Logan couldn’t contain his anger. “What makes you decide if I need protecting? I can handle myself, ever since I was sixteen I’ve been on my own… You know that!”

Virgil sighed, like he was debating whether or not to say his next sentence.

“Remember when we met all those years ago? You told me about how you were attacked and how scared you were after it? Well… it was me. I was the guy who saved you. Every day since that moment, I vowed that I would protect you no matter the cost. Then I fell in love with you along the way, and I’ll love you until the end of time. If you want to know the truth about me, I know he gave you something. Look at it, and I won’t blame you if you try to turn me in to the police afterwards. I have to go now though, otherwise you will get hurt… I’m sorry, Lo.” Logan was left dumbfounded, and Virgil ran out of the front door, slipping away into the night.

There had been so many lies and too many secrets. He remembered that USB stick he threw in a drawer months ago. He opened it up and stared at the blue object, the label that read ‘Virgil… ?’ taunted him mercilessly. He looked over at his open laptop that was spared from his destructive anger, should he look at it?

Logan shook that thought away instantly, he needed to clear up first before making any kind of decision. He crouched down on the floor and started to sweep the glass over towards the sofa with his hand, just so he could clean it properly soon. He got to the first photograph, him and Virgil sitting in a restaurant holding hands and smiling at the camera. That picture was taken by Thomas and Nico, their two closest friends… He thought he should text them and see if they could come over. Virgil left half an hour ago, and he already felt too alone.

He’d contact them later, but for now. He wanted to stare at photographs and revel in his memories.

#fanfiction #ao3 #My story #ts fanfic #ts fandom #au #ts logan #ts virgil #assassin au #new chapter

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akitokihojo · 5 years ago

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Delicate - Chapter 4

"And who might you be looking for?" Sango questioned suggestively, the smirk on her face implying she'd noticed the several glances Kagome had spared up and down the halls. She'd thought she'd been nonchalant about it, but apparently not.

The question was, of course, rhetorical. Even if it wasn't, she treated it as such. Her best friend would know better than anyone who her eyes constantly searched for considering how habitual it had become. This time, it was a conscious search. She hadn't seen or heard from Inuyasha since Friday night, and her worry was nagging at her. All she wanted was to see that he'd recovered, to see that little smile he'd usually give in passing, and the stress would be satiated. Until then, she played it all off with a spirited shake of her head as she normally would. The last thing she wanted was for her concern to be notable. Out of respect for Inuyasha, Sango was completely unaware of what had occurred that night.

"So, what are you gonna do when you see him?" Her friend asked, walking along at her side.

"Do?"

"Yes, do. You guys have something going here, and it's cute, but you gotta amp it up a little. If not for your sake, then mine. I am living vicariously through you, Kagome! The well is dry!" Sango exclaimed, gesturing to herself overzealously as they stopped several feet before their classroom. "He made a big move last week by scaling your house like freaking Spiderman just to get to your window! People don't do that for fun, alright? This isn't parkour. And, I can assure you he didn't do that for a pin. Ball's in your court, my main gal, and you gotta reciprocate to let him know you're interested."

Kagome was a little taken aback by Sango's passion, the fervor in her brown eyes alight. "Did you have coffee this morning?"

"Yes, what's your point?"

"I can see why your dad doesn't like you drinking it."

"Focus." She grabbed the sides of Kagome's arms to make sure the emphasis was as dramatic as necessary to get her attention, and it took all of Kagome's effort not to sputter out a laugh. "Do you like him?"

"You already know the answer to that!"

"Then do something about it."

"What, exactly, am I supposed to do? Swoon before him so he'll catch me before I hit the ground? He'll just call me an idiot and tell me to get my shit together." As much as she knew that was true, she still found the whole situation humorous, especially the thought of the hypothetical scenario.

"Okay, so you'll just have to make it impossible for him to stop thinking about you. Oh, yes, I've got it!" Sango said, her face beaming as the epiphany hit. She dropped her hold on Kagome, rubbing her hands together in preparation of a scheme. "You know that flirty look you do? Where you have those sultry eyes, and you do that little, crooked grin, and then you look them up and down real quick? Do that! You'll mess him up for the rest of the day!"

"Excuse me, what look!?" Kagome felt the heat rush to her cheeks, her mouth hanging agape.

"Oh, don't play dumb. I've seen you stunt guys. One time, you did it so well, even I felt weak in the knees. I've got no taco cravings, girl, but you fucked me up."

"Sango!"

"Hear me out! The objective, from a woman's standpoint, is to wreck the guy they favor until he just can't take it anymore. I promise you, you do the look and he won't be able to forget it, and then he'll be knocking on your window again in no time. Wreck hi - oh, wreck him." She slyly gestured to Kagome's left, fading her motivational speech off in a low murmur to seem casual.

Subconsciously following Sango's nod, Kagome turned, her dark eyes landing on the half demon as he made his way through the hall in the direction of his own class two doors down. His golden stare met her own, but there was no luminescence behind it. It was dull and lackluster, like he didn't actually see her; she was just part of the crowd. In an attempt to attain his normal reaction toward her, she smiled warmly, never breaking the contact their eyes held. But, he did. He regarded her with such obvious disdain that it jostled her to the core, her grin immediately falling.

As Inuyasha made his way passed and beyond, Kagome's head shifted to follow him, waiting for any sign that he didn't mean it. She was sure it had to have been unintentional. There was no logical explanation for it. Inuyasha was snarky, temperamental, but to her, he wasn't cold. Not even when she frustrated him. He just wasn't. Inuyasha never turned around, though. He said hello to a person in passing and then disappeared into his class.

"What was that all about?" Sango gently inquired. Kagome could only shake her head in answer, signifying that she didn't know. She was racking her brain, trying to figure out what she could have possibly done to deserve it. Maybe he felt embarrassed for oversharing and wanted space. It was easy to understand, especially considering he wasn't much one for opening up. He might have regretted doing so. Humility makes people respond poorly; it was common.

Seeding deeply, Kagome felt a dark shadow of doubt crawl over. That look, the carelessness in his gaze, sent her a message. One she couldn’t decode on the spot. One that brought her to second-guess her initial suspicion. Maybe, for the moment, in the moment, the answer to this wasn’t what was important. She’d respect his chosen time to himself. He’d eventually come around. This was Inuyasha.

By the third day, her stomach was physically aching. It was like he adamantly refused to look at her, and if he did, she was just like any other irrelevant person. She'd given into the temptation and texted him the night before to see if he was alright. That was it. She didn't pry, she didn't bring up Friday or anything he'd told her, or even the way he'd been treating her. Just a simple text saying, "Is everything okay?" It went ignored. The guy even turned his read receipts on to let her know he'd seen it about an hour later. They weren't on before. It was deliberate. She could read the petty memo he was sending perfectly clear.

It hurt. Kagome didn't understand, and her mind was already exhausted from the amount of overthinking that wrung and twisted and carved uncertainty into every corner. What had she done wrong? She had to have done something. That was the only plausible explanation. Even so, how could she apologize? It would be meaningless if she didn't know the causation behind it, and even more so since he refused to talk to her. If she sought him out, it would ring of desperation, and as the glances still held cold or disinterested, the sensations he sent her stabbing and crippling, the rejection was too dense and painful to allow herself anywhere near him. If she did, she would only be willingly subjecting herself to more.

She felt stupid. So, so stupid. There was a part of her that had actually begun to believe he liked her. Even just a little. Yet, here she was feeling disposable; like she hadn't left even an inkling of an indentation on him. Typically, so it goes, if a guy treats you this way it was best to say, "Fuck him," and blow him off just the same. Take a day to handle your feelings, pick yourself up, and move on like a big girl. So, why was her chest feeling so stiflingly congested? Why did it sting so much for him to treat her like nothing when no relationship had ever developed between the two of them? It wasn't just hope that ruined her lucidity, that was a fact she didn't have to convince herself of. Kagome, though a daydreamer, knew the hanyou was distant from the beginning. Despite it all, she thought there was progress. She thought he was growing more comfortable with her. She thought he was learning to trust her. And, the salt in the wound was she didn't even know where she'd gone wrong to mess it all up.

Whenever they'd pass each other, Sango made it a point to distract her. She would either hook her arm in the crook of Kagome's and guide her in a different direction, or abruptly start talking a little louder to effectively regain Kagome's attention. There were very few times she brought up Inuyasha's sudden Jack Frost attitude. It was killing her that her best friend looked so sad all the time and she didn't know what to say or do to help. She feared bringing him up, in general, would only make Kagome's eyes fall to the ground in visible disappointment as she attempted to smile through it. Because, this was Kagome, after all. As hurt as she was, she never tried to show it. By the end of the week, though, Sango was reaching her limit. Something more had to have happened; it didn't make sense that the guy would change his mind out of nowhere. As a spectator to it all, she felt Inuyasha was pretty obvious as his feelings developed for Kagome. The infamous grump of the campus was progressively becoming a big softy for one single person. She wasn't the only one who'd noticed. It wasn't the major gossip filling the halls by any means, but it was pretty clear to those paying attention. How does someone just turn all that off like a light switch? She could be wrong, but she didn't necessarily get player vibes from him either. Something just wasn’t clicking here, and a badgering prickle in the pit of her abdomen continued to annoy Sango to no ends.

Just after school, as they were making their way out, Sango gave Kagome a small tug to the side so that they were out of the way of everyone in the corridor. "Spill. It's been long enough and everything seems to be worse. Am I missing something here?"

"Just about as much as I am." Kagome shrugged. No name needed to be said for her to understand who and what Sango was referencing. They had a pre-spoken agreement that, even prior to all of this, they kept it all hush hush since his hearing was sensitive. The last thing she ever wanted was for him to be tipped off by catching his name from wherever he stood. Especially now. On top of that, no one else needed to know what was going on. "I honestly don't know what changed."

"So, that's it? He literally went from sneaking in through your window in the middle of the night to this? Did something else happen in between? Like, did he make an actual move on you; get a little handsy and take the rejection hard?"

"No. No." Kagome shook her head fervently in reassurance. "He came, he took the pin, he left. He wasn't even there for a full five minutes."

Sango released an airy scoff, completely dumbfounded. "Are you kidding me? That's really it? What a prick.”

"Well,” Kagome hesitated, sighing deeply. Despite the circumstances, she was still reluctant to share Inuyasha's personal information. It played a key role in the scenario, though. It had to. Because, Sango was right, no matter how much it didn't make sense now, it was even more illogical to think he'd go from minor flirting - if that's what they could call it - straight to the cold shoulder. "Okay look, I didn't tell you this because it was kind of a sensitive topic, but I guess it doesn't really matter now. That next night, after Ayumi's thing went down the drain, I ran into him. He was really upset about something, so I made him walk with me a little to calm down and he opened up. That was our actual last encounter."

"You're gonna have to give me a little bit more to work with. What was wrong? Like, something between you two?"

"No, it was more about some family issues." Kagome answered, keeping it bland.

"Okay," Sango nodded, picking up on the hint. "He vented, and then what?"

"I hugged him. Then, I went home."

"Did you maybe say anything that could have possibly insulted him, or made him feel uncomfortable for talking about it all? I mean, from what you've told me, he comes off as fairly guarded. I feel like it'd be easy to tip the scale."

"I didn't say a word." Kagome admitted. "He asked me not to before he even started. He told me everything, and I just - I hugged him. Do you think that was what did it? Maybe the hug made him feel patronized?" The question came out as uncertain as she felt about the idea.

Sango’s face twisted slightly. “What? No. How? Did he, like, push you away?"

"Not immediately. He hugged me back first. And, even as he pushed me, it was really gentle; not in a back off sort of way, but more of a nudge. He told me I should get home since it was late, and it just felt like he was saying he'd calmed down and wanted some space."

"Wow. Yeah, that's gotta be it. I can't believe you tried to comfort him. What a bitch." Sango said with a straight expression, completely sarcastic in her statement.

"If that's not the reason, then I don't know what is." Kagome said, exasperation showing in her tone and flinging hands. "I've gone over it all so many times in my head -"

From down the hall, Sango noticed the familiar smile of Inuyasha's friend, her eyes instinctively traveling to the silver-haired boy walking next to him. Reacting swiftly, she cut off Kagome as smoothly as possible, her tone as friendly as any other conversation they'd had. "You're brother's clumsy, but he’s not dumb. I'm sure he won’t try to go up the stairs while he's home alone."

Though there was initial confusion, Kagome clued in at the suggestive shrug of Sango’s brows, only faltering to pick up the new topic for a moment. “Y-yeah. I - I know, you’re right. He’s just been erring on the bad side of natural selection recently.”

“You worry too much.” Sango giggled.

Kagome watched Sango’s neck stiffen slightly, her eyes flickering over Kagome’s shoulder then towards the closest wall in disregard of the boy about the pass them. There was a slight brush as Inuyasha maneuvered through, his white shirt skimming the sleeve of Kagome’s black cardigan. He’d glanced at Sango but not at her, continuing down the hall.

“Now, that was just mean.” Kagome mumbled. “He did that on purpose.”

“Hey.” Miroku greeted, undetected as he’d stayed behind. His tone was careful as he approached, sympathy etched on his brow. “Sorry about him. He’s been acting pretty strange lately.”

“I don’t know if you two follow any sort of bro code, but can you tell me what I did to make him so mad?”

“I would if I knew. I will tell you something else though, and I’m pretty sure he’d sell my body parts to a meat market if he knew what I was about to say, but what the hell. Life’s about taking risks, right?” He shrugged, his forehead crinkling with how dramatically he’d risen his eyebrows. It was like he was trying to joke, but his apprehension held back the punchline. “Every so often, Inuyasha does this thing where he cuts people out. I really don’t know what happened between the two of you, but I’m pretty sure that’s what he’s doing here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just as it sounds. He just drops everything and pretends he never knew you. I don’t know why. If it makes you feel any better, I'll admit this time it seems a little different. He’s been more irritable in the last week than I’ve ever witnessed before, and that’s saying something. The guy is your typical Shoujo manga tsundere boy through and through, so attitude from him is like milk in your cereal; it’s a given. But, now he’s so crabby, it’s difficult to even get a basic response to a question from him. I can’t think of anything you could have possibly done to provoke this, Kagome. I’ve known him long enough to know this is internal. If I’m right, which I’m almost sure I am, he doesn’t like letting people get close to him, so I’ve seen this a couple times already. It’s like this routine of self-sabotage, but I’ll be damned if he ever listens to me.”

“If that’s the case, then why hasn’t he cut you out? What makes you so special?” Sango inquired, crossing her arms over her chest in defense. Miroku visibly tensed, a thick swallow bobbing his Adam’s apple. His Indigo eyes seemed to gloss over as he turned to look down the hall, suddenly seeming like an empty shell.

“Could you please not look at me directly?” He awkwardly spoke, voice wavering. “I might have a mental breakdown, and I feel I’ve been doing a really good job at holding an adult conversation.”

The girls eyed each other peculiarly before Sango turned away from him enough that he'd relax. "... Then why hasn't he cut you out? What makes you so special?" She asked again, more monotonously this time.

"Honestly, beats me. The only thing I can think of is he got used to me being around. I'm harmless. But, let's face it, you're not." Miroku suggested, aiming the comment at Kagome. She frowned, brows furrowing in response.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, it hasn't been confirmed or anything, but it hasn't been directly denied in a while, either. Whenever I asked, he would just change the subject. Which, to me, translates that the guy was head over heels."

"Wait, wait, wait." Sango interjected, making the mistake of turning to the hanyou's friend. Noticing his immediate discomfort, she then swiveled on her heel to talk to Kagome while her hands spoke in Miroku's direction. "You're telling us that his legitimate response to having feelings for someone is to stop interacting with them!? Isn't that a bit, I don't know, counter productive?"

"Depends on the area he's trying to be productive in, if you think about it. He doesn't like letting people in. Feelings equals closeness."

Sango groaned, "You're contradicting yourself. He has no problem letting you in, yet he cuts everyone else out?”

"He doesn't let me in." Miroku countered smoothly. "I just figured him out. Keep in mind what I said; this time it's different. This time, even he's effected by the distancing."

Kagome ground her jaw, the pout on her face more of aggravation than anything. Things were making more sense, and she was appreciative of the insight, but that didn't mean she saw Inuyasha in any better lighting. In fact, everything was made worse. What a dick move. Just like that, he was done. Because of what? Fear? She could understand the theory, really she could, but it didn't make it right. She hadn’t actually done anything to deserve this. No one did, and he's done this to numerous people. His irritability per their separation didn't make her feel any better, either. Miroku was right. While thinking only of himself, Inuyasha was simultaneously voyaging down a self-destructive path.

Truthfully, she didn't know how to feel. She was still sad, but it was transitioning into something else now. She pitied him, what he'd been through, his turbulent mindset that had him scared to let anyone near. Above all else, for her own sake, she felt angry. Angry that she wasn't even given a chance. Angry that she was treated like she was expendable by the person she’d come to value so much.

Fine. If that was his choice, then fine. There was no point in trying to change his mind, and quite frankly, he didn't deserve her persistency at this point. It would be a nuisance to the both of them.

Miroku gave a careful shrug, a minor cock of his head apologizing as much as words would, backing away and turning around to head out of the emptying hall.

Finally, Sango was able to turn and fully look at him. This wasn't the first time she'd noticed just how broad his shoulders were, how toned his physique seemed, and how nicely his school uniform hugged him. She really enjoyed his smile most of all, and she'd enjoy it a little more if he didn't have a tendency to get super awkward around her - and only her. She tried to take it as flattery, but sometimes it made her overthink that something was wrong with her. They couldn't even have a proper conversation. Other times, it was pretty amusing to watch him instantaneously grow flustered. With the perspective he'd just handed them, though, Sango felt a sense of respect forming for him. He wasn't just a cute, fumbling weirdo. He was kind. It was like he wasn’t afraid to step up when it mattered. He didn't owe Kagome any sort of explanation, yet he willingly gave one without prompt.

"Hey, Miroku?" Sango called. He glanced over his shoulder, blue eyes landing on her. "Thank you. I like your new haircut, by the way. Looks good on you."

His face flashed pink, lips parting slightly as if he were about to respond, but instead of words, the only thing he formulated was an inarticulate groan of some kind.

"You're gonna break him." Kagome stated.

"I know." Sango smiled proudly, the curve on her lips quickly falling away. She could sense that while Kagome feigned amused, the shift in her mood and in her lackluster expression was evident. She was justifiably upset and pulling a typical Kagome by trying to cover it up. Now that they knew the gist of what they were dealing with, Sango felt better equipped to help her handle it all. "So, do you want the straight-forward truth or gentle approach?"

"Both." Kagome sighed.

"You have every right to be upset right now. He hurt you. He's a jerk. But, if that's the way he wants to play, then he can do it alone - just like he wants. He'll realize his mistakes when he’s miserable. You gotta let it go, Kay. He's not worth this." Sango cocked her head sympathetically, rubbing the side of Kagome's arm. "So, you're gonna do what everyone does when they get their heart broken: You're gonna mope, you're gonna eat your weight in ice cream, and then you're gonna take the longest bubble bath of your life and wash him off of you."

"My heart's not broken." Kagome meagerly dismissed, a crooked smile on her face.

"Then why do you look like you're about to cry?"

"Because, we're talking about it." She shook her head, looking at the floor and smiling, as if it would shadow the emotion in her eyes. "It's like asking someone, 'What's wrong?' Even when they're completely fine, they'll still cry."

"Okay, here, I've got a plan! Yuka's birthday shindig is tomorrow." Sango wiggled her shoulders, a positive grin lighting her face. It hurt to see Kagome distraught, to hear the weakness in her voice as she fought back tears. A distraction was obviously necessary right now. "She's having it at that karaoke place on Tustin. I know you hate singing, but you can come and listen to me sing, which you know will be a good time. We'll get all nice and dolled up, look hot, feel good, laugh a little, it'll be fun. Plus, I think Hojo will be there."

"So?" Kagome chuckled, catching her insinuating tone.

"First of all, the guy goes to an all-boy school now so let’s show him some compassion, alright? I'm pretty sure he's jonesing hard for the female specimen since the last time we saw him was months ago. He'll see you, he'll go all goo goo eyed like back in junior high, fall at your feet a little - I mean, if that's not great for the self esteem, I don't know what is." She shrugged. "I think it'll be good for you. Please say you'll go."

Kagome gestured for them to start walking out, her easy expression showing her lack of resolve. "Can I wallow on Sunday?"

"You may. I'll even join you, if you'd like. I could use some wallow time, myself." Sango replied, hooking her arm in Kagome's as she walked at her side.

"Why? What happened to you?"

"Miroku. Miroku happened to me."

—

Kagome and Sango giggled loudly as they made their way down the block, the street lights and storefronts lighting up the semi-populated area in the night. They'd gone to Yuka's birthday party, and she'd invited more people than anticipated, all of them squeezing into the karaoke room - some either having to stand or sit on laps. Sango, of course, sat on Kagome's. It was easy to tell that the blushing boy next to them really wanted to offer a seat, but the only way he could build up enough courage to do anything of the sort was by literally offering his seat over. He was so close at one point to patting on his lap in proposal to Kagome as she came back from the bathroom, Sango could see it written all over Hojo's face. It was amazing to see that even though they went to different schools, and he'd dated around, and Kagome clearly had no interest in him, the boy was still adorably smitten whenever they were around one another. He was more the gentleman type; not very bold, at all. So, watching him try to buck up the confidence necessary to blatantly hit on Kagome in front of everyone was interesting on its own, but Sango just couldn't let it get that far. She lurched forward and grabbed Kagome's hand, dragging her away and into her own lap before Hojo could mutter out a word.

"Be nice!" Kagome gently shoved her friend's arm, trying to swallow her laugh. "He's innocent!"

"I just don't get it! How does he still have it this bad for you? Do you think he's never gotten over the fact that you gave him his first kiss? That's gotta be it!"

"He was mine too, and I've gotten over it!”

“You were never under it. It was a dare.”

“Exactly. He probably doesn't actually have a crush on me, at all! I mean, think about it! It's most likely just harmless flirting."

"Kagome, have you not realized his name is an action among all the people that have ever gone to school with him? Have you never heard that!? Like, when someone is crazy about another but can't articulate that properly, they just fumble over themselves and try to tell them through hints or any other possible way besides outright saying it - like gifting bunion slippers - they're pulling a Hojo. He's got a reputation for a reason." Sango explained.

"Ah, so Miroku's a Hojo around you."

"You take that back!"

"You've got your very own Hojo." Kagome teased.

"Friendship timeout! Thirty seconds!" Sango laughed.

“You’ve got a Hojo!”

"Oh, are we near The Square?" Sango asked, taking in their surroundings. Up ahead, the opening to the area was bright and bustling, orange lights strung from across store tops and posts decorating the environment and building the comfortable ambience for socializing. "I heard they have this really good coffee place! Let's get some!"

"Sango, it's past ten!" Kagome mentioned. "You're dad's gonna kill you if you come home wired."

"He won't be able to tell the difference between a caffeine buzz and the comedown from an outing." She dragged Kagome forward, attempting to scout out the place with her nose. Coffee beans guided her like the force, pulling her through the crowd and straight to the line that connected to the window for blessed java. "Want something?"

"No, thanks." She giggled, amused by Sango's addiction to the one thing her family forbid her to have.

"You're gonna leech off of mine, aren't you?"

"Just a sip." Kagome waited patiently next to her, her eyes drifting over the people hanging out and talking, eating food, drinking coffee, and generally seeming to be having a good time. It was a nice atmosphere, and ages seemed to vary from people her age to maybe early twenties. Feeling watched, she followed the sensation, spotting Inuyasha in a small group he was mingling with, golden eyes glued to her.

Even from the distance, she could determine his furrowed brows and straight-set lips showed he was unhappy, maybe even a little surprised to see her. The feeling was mutual, quite frankly. It’s like there were no safe zones. So, she returned the scowl, giving an exasperated roll of her eyes as she deliberately turned her back to him.

He'd caught her scent in the large-spread crowd, finding that lately he felt he'd be able to pinpoint it anywhere. He tried to ignore it, dismiss it as someone's annoyingly-similar perfume. It was no use. The aroma pulled his focus, bringing his attention to immediately land on the joyful girl. His stomach knotted uncomfortably, hearing her laugh, seeing her smile, noticing how the lights from up above bounced off her skin to glow beautifully. Her hair was in successive waves, not how they usually fell; like, her black locks had been curled only for the strength of the spirals to fall away. Her makeup was nice, intended for a night out, eyes shadowed in blended browns that made the depth of her irises pop dangerously. Her getup was upsettingly appealing, a grey tank top loose on her torso while a tight, black skirt hugged the curves of her hips, topped off with flats and a red, plaid, unbuttoned long sleeve. What a cruel happenstance, salt sprinkling into the wound he'd carved on his own.

Of all places to come dressed like that. He'd told her it wasn't safe just a week ago, yet here she comes waltzing around like a human magnet for unwanted, male attention. Her stare was more brutal than her attire, coldly sneering at him like he'd done to her before. He didn't like it. It tasted acidic, her spite. His fingers began to flex at his side, even as he turned away to refocus on the conversation between Miroku and the other guy they stood with, agitation pressing him with her so near. He'd already noticed a couple of men check her out just as she and Sango appeared, topping the list of shit he wasn't liking at the moment. It was hard not to pay attention to it. It was hard to even pretend not to pay attention to it. The half demon peeked over, his jaw set and blood growing increasingly hotter, chest contracting on his inhale when he witnessed two guys talking to the two girls. Already. Jesus fucking christ, already!

The guys were definitely older, and from their tones that he could just barely pick up over the multitude of conversations happening around, it wasn't a chat they were intending on keeping casual forever. One stepped a little closer, and just like that, Inuyasha was done.

Sango stirred her straw through her blended coffee while the guy closest to Kagome asked if the two of them would like to hang out with their group of friends. "We were just passing through, actually. Thanks, anyway.”

Kagome received the subtle head nod from Sango signifying it was time to go, the two of them flashing friendly smiles to the guys. Before they could make any further move, though, a hot-approaching person caught Kagome’s eye and she turned in time to see Inuyasha marching over, haughtily shoving himself between them and the two boys.

“Let’s go.” He all but growled, amber eyes burning through her.

“What?” The question was sharp on her tongue.

“Come on.” His voice was rough, deep, causing hesitance in her reaction, making Kagome have to force a response while she intentionally twisted her expression in defiance.

“No.”

“Now, Kagome.”

“Look, man, she doesn’t want to go with you.” One of the guys objected.

Inuyasha steadily turned around to face the fucker, the hanyou standing a couple inches higher than him. The idiot was scrawny and human, easily no match for Inuyasha, his short-lived bravery fading away as the half demon stepped closer in a manner to size him up.

“Back the fuck off.” Inuyasha warned.

“We don’t want any trouble. You know her or something?”

Kagome held her breath, never once having seen this side of Inuyasha. He seemed menacing and large, and she swore she heard a threatening growl begin to rumble through his chest.

“Yeah. You?”

“We were kind of in the middle of getting to know them, so -“

“Well, that’s over.” He smiled condescendingly, spinning back to face Kagome. Without a second thought, Inuyasha crouched down, picking Kagome up and tossing her over his shoulder, carrying her off toward the back path they’d found each other on the week prior.

She hadn’t expected it in the least. One minute, Inuyasha was squared up with someone, the next she was being carried off in the world’s most awkward position, a yelp leaving her mouth as her feet left the ground. Kagome’s hands were braced on his mid back, trying to prop herself up so there wasn’t too much weight applied to her stomach against the bony part of his shoulder. His gait provided a little bounce that she swore was never there before, serving to jostle her slightly every few steps or so. Her hair had flung over her head, and with how she was positioned, it was difficult to push it all out of her sight, making it impossible to see the entirety of The Square’s reaction to the scene Inuyasha had just procured - which was probably for the best. No matter how much she told the half demon to put her down, or wriggled in his hold, he never did. Of course, her demands were cut off by multiple, frantic oh my god’s, and her movements were nothing more than baby kicks because she was terrified of being dropped. The guy probably didn’t even take her seriously.

Sango, in wild shock at Inuyasha’s barbaric attitude, hastily went to follow after her helpless friend, strong arms wrapping around her core to stop her mid stride.

“Wait, wait, give him a chance.”

“Give him a - he literally stole Kagome!” She argued, pushing the arms away as she faced Miroku.

“I know, he comes off horribly but I promise he means well!” He defended, the grimace deep on his face. “Just give them a few minutes to try and talk things through.”

“He means well…” Sango scorned, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Funny you say that, considering you literally told us yesterday that he ghosts people on the norm.”

“Valid point.” It was hard to argue against that. “You got me there. But, if he really wanted to ditch her, he would have never pulled a stunt like this. No matter the situation.”

“That doesn’t make it okay!”

“You’re right! You’re absolutely right! All I’m asking for is a few minutes. His communication skills are questionable, but he might be coming around. Let’s not interrupt the possibility.”

Reluctantly, Sango huffed, giving in without another word. Miroku knew the guy better than anyone, and his conviction was heartfelt. It was almost impossible to believe that anything bad would happen with how he spoke. It was comforting. So, she’d trust him.

He watched her relax before him, though her arms stayed crossed, her brown eyes washing over him and around the area as she made no further move to follow their friends. All at once, it seemed as if a force had body slammed him, giving him no opportunity to inhale a breath as he took Sango in, his nerves going haywire like every fucking time before. She was gorgeous, mesmerizing, like no other woman he’d ever seen - in person. It was like he physically felt his expression fall into one of peril, his eyes wide as he tried to gather his bearings. She wore a dress, a wonderful, wonderful dress, that hugged her curves like he wanted to. The baby blue complimented her skin tone, her chocolate brown hair straight, and long, and flowing over her shoulders and the front of her body. He stared too long, uncontrollably so, and of course, she noticed, a frown marring her plush lips.

“What’s wrong?”

Oh god, how did he look right now? It took all the effort he had to aim for recovery, focusing on a single objective. It was like he was a young boy learning to flirt all over again, hopeless and awkward and desperate for love. A compliment. He had to compliment her. He had to compliment her.

“Y-you look - wow - um, that’s a - a dress that - no - you’re - you have pretty…” His stammering was worse than ever, tense and forced, his voice monotonous and robotic. He focused on her hair, her eyes, her mouth, her arms, her waist, her hips. “Thighs.”

Sango blinked, lips curling in distaste and confusion, completely taken aback. Was she supposed to thank him? The redness blistering the entirety of his face spoke volumes of how much he hated himself in that moment, his chest so still she wasn’t even sure he was breathing. Thighs. Of all things, he said her thighs were pretty. What was wrong with this guy?

“I could crush you.” She simply stated.

“Yeah. That’s hot.”

And with that, she took her leave, walking the path Inuyasha had carried Kagome away in.

Miroku was ready to cry. He was so close, so close, to an appropriate compliment and he blew it. The worst thing was, he still meant what he’d said. His body washed cold, and he felt empty, light, like he could drift away with the next breeze.

“Dude…” The two guys from before had remained, overhearing it all, equally mortified for him.

“I don’t know why!” Miroku wailed, begrudgingly following after Sango despite his humiliation. At this point, he was more inclined than ever to keep his distance from her.

Inuyasha placed Kagome on her feet, the girl grunting and stumbling backward from his unforgiving lack of gentleness. He caught her arms, stilling her, her hands quickly smacking him away and swinging around to pull her clothes down, desperately trying to ignore the underwear that had ridden up. “Jesus, Inuyasha, you had your hand on my ass that entire time!”

“Yeah, well if you weren’t wearing the world’s shortest skirt, I wouldn’t have had to pin it down to keep it from rising any higher!” The hanyou rebutted.

“You wouldn’t have had to keep it from rising if you didn’t go all ape man and chuck me over your shoulder!”

“If you didn’t say, ‘no,’ I wouldn’t have had to!”

“Oh, so I’m not allowed to not want to talk, but it’s perfectly fine the other way around!? You’ve been ignoring me for a week, Inuyasha, so why the sudden urgency!?”

He shook his head, a crooked grin pushing his cheeks, chuckling to taunt her. Nothing was humorous, he was just being a jerk. And, he was successfully infuriating her.

“No, in order to ignore you that would mean I’d have to care to a certain degree. I don’t. I see you around, I don’t care. I get a text from you, I just don’t care.”

Kagome rolled her eyes, slowly, antagonizingly. Yeah, sure. “Then, what’s so important? I mean, it must be important if you’re willing to break your silence.”

“Fuck it. If I say anything, you’ll just end up moping around for another week like you already have been.” He said, pulling the excuse right out of his ass. He had no good reason for snagging her. He had no good reason for anything. He just couldn’t stand the fucking sight of chummy pricks hitting on Kagome. He acted impulsively. Now, he was going to have to lie impulsively and end this so he could get a fucking grip over himself again. “Go home.”

“No! No! You don’t get to do that!” Kagome yelled, adrenaline heating her entire body and fueling her temper. “Why have you been such a dick to me lately!? Everything seemed fine before!”

“I don’t owe you an explanation!”

“The hell, you don’t! I’m on the receiving end of your crap! I have the right to know why!”

“God, you’re too much! Don’t you get it!? You’re too fucking much!” Inuyasha exclaimed, flailing his hands in exasperation. “I don’t even know how Sango deals with you all the time! You’re ridiculous! You’re so self-righteous, and you’re pushy as fuck! Once I realized you were getting a bit too close to me, I bowed out!”

“What do you mean, too close!?” It was hard to ignore the sting that was making home in her chest, carrying on further because it was too late to stop herself.

“What the hell does it sound like to you!? Think about it, Kagome! I swear, no one could possibly be that bad in school! It’s almost like you were purposely failing tests just to get me to come over!” His first mistake: eye contact while she took the hit. It was like some light faded from her rich irises. Still, like a train out of control, Inuyasha continued. “You give me your two cents as if your opinions are supposed to matter! You touch me, hug me! Geez, you like me and it's so fucking obvious!”

Hurt her pride, and she’ll leave. That was the plan. Whenever you throw out sensitive accusations like this, true or false as they may be, the natural reaction to the humility was to object, redirect the shame, and then walk away. He’d seen it so many fucking times, it was like clockwork.

The saliva she swallowed tasted bitter, a gelatinous denseness overfilling her stomach. He’d looked away, radiant eyes gazing at whatever he could except her. She hadn’t fully thought out a response. At this point, it was hard to form rational thoughts anymore, her voice coming from her lips of its own accord. Because, silence would only make him think he’d won. “I-I fail to see what’s wrong with that!”

Kagome had always compared the golden hues to that of embers, but as his eyes snapped back to her, the befuddlement, the surprise at her statement shifted the color to deepen, resembling the heat of an actual fire. Anger didn’t back up the change, as one would expect. In fact, she could physically feel his rage temporarily subside in the wake of this.

“I mean, really! What’s wrong with that!? So I liked you, big deal! Sorry it was inconvenient, but I never once tried for anything more, or ever expected you to reciprocate, so don’t act like I was next-level clingy and desperate for your attention! Because, I wasn’t and you know it! Why do you look so surprised right now, Inuyasha? Where’s your vicious reply? I mean, with the look you’re giving me, it’s almost like you had no idea I really did have feelings for you, which would only discredit your argument and -“ Her jaw dropped a little at her own realization. “You didn't, did you? What, were you just throwing out bullshit to try and make me look bad? To embarrass me!? What - what is that, a defense mechanism of yours?”

“Oh, fuck this.” Inuyasha blurted, the words tight in his throat. He turned around, beginning to walk away, the lining of his stomach burning while his chest twinged painfully. His fingers trembled, and he clenched them into fists, his breathing erratic. Mistake number two: allowing his nerves to get the better of him at her admittance. He didn’t know. She called him on everything, but he was so thrown by the reality that she really did care for him. “You’ve got it all wrong, but think whatever you want.”

“I don’t think I do! You’re not this mysterious book no one’s ever been able to open, you know!? I’m sure you wish you were, but you’re a bit too expressive for your own good! What’s this really about, Inuyasha!?”

“Shut up!” He barked, aiming it over his shoulder.

“Are you afraid of something!?”

He kept walking, the sigh he let out rigid and flaming, especially as he noticed Sango and Miroku watching from afar. He heard Kagome’s vexing laugh from behind, and it was like he'd walked full force into a wall, enclosed in a space with the bitch and having no other choice but to turn around and accept her challenge.

“That’s it. I can’t believe I didn’t figure this out sooner.” Kagome said, astounded.

“What the fuck are you going on about!?” His face was red, furious, marching back over to her to continue on like he’d never tried to leave.

“It wasn’t just that I was getting close to you! You were getting close to me too, and it freaked you out!”

“Nothing scares me!”

“Bullshit! I scare you! You’re just not willing to admit it! It’s easier for you to blame me and play the big shot! You felt something for me, and that something wasn’t going away, and it terrified you! Because opening yourself up to someone means opening yourself up to someone potentially leaving! Right? But you, being who you are, always walk around with a pack of matches in one hand and a container of gasoline in the other just so you can burn your side of the bridge before the other person has the chance to burn theirs!”

“God, Kagome, shut up! You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!”

“Considering how upset you are, I think I’m pretty freaking close!”

“Why can’t you just let it go!?”

“I will when you own up! I’m right, aren’t I!? You’re the only one hurting you, Inuyasha!”

“If that’s the case, then why the fuck do you care so much!?”

“Why would you question that!?” Kagome flailed her arms, dumbstruck, her voice breaking from the unbridled emotion burning her throat. “If someone is willing to care, even after all of this, shouldn’t that be something you’re grateful for!? God, you think the entire world is out to get you, you’re willing to hand out blame like lottery tickets! Believe it or not, not everything will turn out as bad as you think it will! You just refuse to give anything or anyone a fucking chance! You’re so busy preventing anything from happening that you literally prevent anything from happening!”

They stood just inches apart, staring at each other with fury and outright condemnation. Their chests rose and fell heavily, hot breath filling the small space between them. His scowl uncreased, his features softening as it seemed he steadily regained control of himself. Inuyasha leaned closer, his eyes glossed over, causing Kagome’s breathing to sputter and hitch in her chest. His voice was low, gruff. Venomous.

“You’re a waste of time.”

Everything inside her went cold. She wasn’t angry anymore, a dull blade silencing her temper. It was like she suddenly felt unsteady, the sensation starting calm and growing to a wobble, making Kagome feel as if she were swaying no matter how still her feet actually were. The argument wasn’t the waste of time, it was her. She was the waste of time. And, he wanted her to taste the poison in his sentiment. The only thing he could have said that would have been more painful than this was that he hated her. She could only guess that was next on his tongue. Brown eyes drifted to his chest and the black shirt that covered it, down to his stomach that seemed to blur with the sting of tears she was trying to fight off, down to his dark jeans as her face contorted slightly before she resumed control, then to the tiny spaces of the cement that separated their shoes.

Mistake number three: hurting her so badly, he'd hurt himself.

He lost control. He lost sight of the purpose of everything. The words just came out of his mouth, he didn’t mean them. Everything he’d said to her up until this point was mean and distasteful, but this was unmatched. He crossed a line; immediately, he knew it. Kagome didn’t deserve this. She was good. Kagome was good. And, she was right about everything. Inuyasha could hear his blood pumping in his ears, feel his heart thumping aggressively. The quiver in her chin halted his breathing, and the salt he suddenly smelled tasted like his acrid punishment. Frozen, he just listened to her unsteady breathing as her composure visibly wavered, dragging him lower and lower. He shouldn’t have said it, but it was too late. There was nothing he could do now.

“Okay. I’m sorry.” Kagome whispered, her voice not cooperating. There was nothing in her that could convincer her to look directly at him. If she did, she’d fold. She began to back away, creating distance, her body shaky and light. The damage was done. She wished she'd never pushed him for answers. Sometimes it was better to be ignorant. It was hard to swallow that someone, Inuyasha, thought so little of her. All she wanted now was to go home. She just wanted to go home, get away from him, stay away from him for good.

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#Inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #miroku #sango #mirsan #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fic #inukag fanfiction #inukag fanfic #inukag fic #high school au #coming of age #my writing #akitokihojo #delicate

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b0n-chann · 5 years ago

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My follow up to prompt 131! If you haven’t read that one yet I highly suggest you do, as this follows up directly after 131 ends. Pleaseeeee enjoy! Again, thank you @sentimental-ghost for requesting that prompt because it seriously gave birth to this mini series. 😘😘😘

To Love and Protect (part 2)

Part 1? Part 2? I’m still deciding but I guess it’s a follow up so we’ll call it part 2.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

“Miss, we will be landing in Nevarro shortly. Shall we look for the Razor Crest?” IG-11 asks you, not looking up from his position. Although he is a droid, you found his presence helpful and even comforting during your time on the ship.

“Yes. Head towards the outskirts of town, I’m sure they would have landed there.”

“Of course.”

In the next few minutes, the rocky terrain of the planet comes into view. IG pilots the small ship, slowing down to look for the Crest.

“There,” you point out, catching the gleam of the ship in the light. The droid turns slightly and you feel the ship begin it’s descent. Your heart skips a beat, wondering if Din was still there, but know that more than likely, he and the group were already in the city.

You exit the ship and are welcomed by the dry heat of the planet. The desert plains never suited you, the sand and wind always too rough on your skin but you reveled in the heat. Everything had felt too cold since Din left, and feeling something, anything, was a welcome change. The droid follows closely behind you.

“It appears that the ship is empty,” the droid speculates, unable to detect any life forces within the confines of the vessel. “However, I do believe my master did not make it.” You look at him in alarm, and follow his gaze out to the desert. You notice a form on the ground; at quick glance you would have thought it was a pile of rubble but as you squint harder, you realize that it was indeed Kuiil. You run over quickly and drop to the ground next to him.

“Kuiil!” You gasp as you turn the ugnaught over and shake him. No response. “Kuiil!” Still nothing.

“Miss, I do not detect a heartbeat coming from him. I do believe he has passed.” A quiet voice comes from the droid. You know that he’s a droid but his voice is reserved, sad almost.

You did not know the ugnaught well but he seemed trustworthy, and Din must have thought highly enough of him to ask him to join him. Another pang hits your heart as you think this, as you remember his last words to you. You sigh and give Kuill’s hand one last squeeze.

“Let’s get him back onto the ship for now,” you tell IG-11 as you stand up. The droid quickly picks him up as you make your way to the Razor Crest. He places Kuiil in the storage area and you take one last look at the ugnaught, noticing a comms bracelet on him. You take it from him as you try to analyze the situation.

“Do you think he had the child with him?” You ask the droid. What other reason would Kuiil have to return back to the ship without anyone else? Your heart drops, realizing that if that is the case, the Empire would have the kid.

“It is a possibility. I believe we should look for the child to ensure his safety. I am a nursedroid, and am designed to protect.”

You stifle a laugh at his statement. You get up and peruse the weapons case before settling on a few blasters.

“Of course,” you say as you toss one to the droid.

———————

You and IG-11 head towards the city, deciding that if the child was indeed taken, that would be the best place to look. The sun beat down on you as you both tread through the desert sea and you are grateful that you had taken off your extra layers back at the ship. IG-11 signals for you to stop.

“I sense three life forces directly ahead of us, Miss.”

“I can sense the child is close. Maybe he’s one of them?” You contemplate, not realizing what you had just said.

“How do you know the child is there?”

Oh, kriff.

“I...don’t really know, but I’ve always been able to sense when he’s close by.” You shrug, telling the droid just enough. The only person that knows about your connection to the child is Din. “Are you able to tell if he’s there?” You ask to try and distract IG.

“I have been programmed to recognize each of your signatures, the shock trooper included.” Kuiil thought of everything. “I will approach the group first. In the event that they are hostile, I will dispose of them quickly. Please stand by for back up.” IG-11 leaves little room for you to argue. Just as you are about to start, he interrupts you. “Miss, please, I am required to not only keep the baby safe, but you as well. This is the best option. Please, stay behind me.” If he was concerned about your ability, he did not make it known.

You can only sigh in response. “Okay, let’s go then.”

Two storm troopers come into view as you and IG-11 walk over the last dune. You sigh in relief as you see the child with them but instantly your blood boils as you watch one of the storm troopers hits him. IG-11 steps forward and makes your presence known to them.

“Stop that.” The storm troopers quickly draw their blasters on the both of you.

“Identify yourselves!”

“I am IG-11. I am this child’s nurse and this is his mother. I require that you remand him to us immediately.”

One of the troopers laughs. “A nurse droid? I thought it was a hunter. Aren’t IGs usually hunters?

“Yeah, well, evidently this one’s a nurse. And you sure she’s his mother? They don’t look alike at all.” You roll your eyes to yourself. These two were exceptionally chatty. You just hoped they were as lousy a shot as storm troopers are rumored to be.

“I’m sorry, nurse, but you’re gonna have to get out of here.” The first storm trooper shoots at IG as the droid walks closer but misses horribly.

“Are you denying my request?” IG asks.

“No,” the first storm trooper says. “I’m telling you to get out of here.” He walks up to IG, his blaster still aiming at him. IG makes quick work of this, however, and grabs the storm troopers arm and twists it in the other direction before flipping him over, effectively knocking him out. You cringe, hearing the bones in the storm trooper’s arm crack.

“Hey!” You hear the other one cry. Before you can even lift your blaster up, IG grabs him by then helmet and slams him into the ground. Twice. You remind yourself never to piss off the droid. You quickly make your way over to the speeder with the child and open up the bag. He blinks up at you and recognition fills his eyes as he coos excitedly at you, his little arms raised, begging to be picked up.

You are eager to oblige him. “Hi there, little one,” you say as you pick him up. You touch his ear affectionately in greeting. He coos at you and you laugh as he pats his hands on your face in greeting. He keeps his hands in place and a vision forms in your head; he and Kuiil are riding on a blurrg with the Razor Crest in the distance. You can hear Din’s concerned voice calling out to Kuiil multiple times. You see this playing out in the position of the child and before you can reach the ship it feels like you’re falling and everything fades to black and brought back to the present.

“Are you alright, Miss?” You hear IG ask but his voice seems so far away. You shake your head as if to clear your vision and you see the child looking up at you expectantly. Was that the child showing you what happened? You know that you both have a connection, but this is the first time you have experienced anything like this.

“I’m...I’m okay,” you reply. You try not to think about what just happened but realize that if Kuiil and the child were riding back to the ship that something must have happened to Din and Cara. You look over to see IG inspecting the speeders.

“Are you comfortable riding this on your own?”

“I can manage.”

“Very good, Miss.” The droid walks over to you and takes the child from you, strapping him to his front. “I will protect the child for now, I am unsure of how many hostiles we will encounter if we make our way into town.” You nod in agreement; it’s a smart decision and his metal body would offer more protection than you could.

You walk over to the speeder and inspect it, everything appearing to be intact. You haven’t driven one since before you met Din and the idea of being on one again excites you. You get on and turn on the engine, the speeder revving to life. IG follows suit and you both take off towards Nevarro City.

As you travel through the desert you hear the comms bracket crackle to life.

“Kuiil! Do you copy.” Din’s frantic voice comes over. Your heart leaps into your throat. “Kuiil!”

You speed up next to IG, the child babbling excitedly in front of him. You can hear him through your own communicator and you realize the child must have one too.

“Kuiil has been terminated.”

“What did you do?” You hear Din’s voice, scathing. Before IG can respond you answer.

“Coming to save your sorry asses.”

“...You came.”

“Is that all you have to say to me?”

“What are you doing here?” Din asks, effectively ignoring your question. This time it’s IG who answers.

“Performing my base function. To nurse and protect.” With that you and the droid speed up your pace.

————————

Din’s heart pounded in his chest as he hears your voice. You were supposed to be far away from here. You were supposed to be safe.

“Guess your little plan backfired,” Cara says from the front of the cantina as she looks out to the army outside.

“Don’t get me started.”

“I’m just saying, did you really think she’d take that lying down? Do you even know her? Hell, I knew she’d come back here to kick your ass and I can’t wait to see her do it.” She really couldn’t. When Din walked into the Crest without you and told her that they were leaving, Cara had been dumbfounded. It took Cara most of the way to Nevarro to get him to tell her what happened, and when he did, she punched him. Hard. She tells herself that she did it for you to justify it.

“Look, can we figure out what we’re gonna do to get out of here?” Karga says from the bar as he downs a drink and then another in rapid succession. Just as Din begins to say something they watch as all the troopers turn their heads towards the edge of town. And that’s when they hear it. Blaster shots.

IG arrives in the square first, blasters blazing as he jumps off his speeder and uses it to crash into several troopers at the side of the cantina. He continues his assault as you follow shortly behind, providing cover. As you speed by the droid, he grabs you off of the bike by the leg and arm, surprising you as you are turned sideways, parallel to the ground, and watch your own speeder crash into another squad of storm troopers. However, your surprise is short lived as you continue to shoot down more enemies as IG turns you in the air before placing you down behind him.

“Nice moves, IG!” You say between blasts, trying to run for cover. The line of troopers was never ending.

“It helps that you are very compact, Miss.” More troopers go down. IG turns his upper body towards you to protect the child. If it wasn’t such a dire moment you would have laughed; the look on his little green face is of pure delight. The droid begins to move, forcing you backwards and towards a few stacked crates you can use for cover.

“Was that a joke?!”

———————

The three in the cantina watch as you and IG continue your assault at the Empire.

“I’m telling you Mando, if you’re really set on leaving her tell me now because I love her,” Cara says as she watches the droid spins you around as you shoot down troopers. Din doesn’t respond, he eyes still transfixed on you. All he can think of is getting to you.

“Cover me!” He says as he runs towards the cantina entrance. The door opens and he shoots a trooper before kicking another to the ground but all he can see is you. He tries to make his way closer but is caught off guard by two shadow stormtroopers. While he tries to disarm one, another rushes him from his other side and throws him to the ground. Din recovers quickly but before he can counter, a blaster shot disposes of the trooper quickly. Din looks up to see you, your arm extended.

He reaches for you and you pull him up. “You’re here, Beautiful.” His nickname for you slips from his lips. He watches as your expression goes from shock to pure rage as you punch a storm trooper and throw him into another two.

“You. Do. Not. Get. To. Call. Me. That.” You say as you shoot another trooper behind him. Din looks at you in amazement. You are beautiful and terrifying and he’s has never wanted to kiss you more even if he knows he’s risking a shot to the beskar. You both hear IG fall to the ground and notice that backup troopers are arriving. Din looks over your shoulder and walks past you, his gloved hand giving yours a squeeze. You realize he’s going for the E-web and cover him while he lifts it off its base. He swings it around and takes down trooper after trooper as you watch in awe at his strength. You always thought that he was capable but watching him now, he looked invincible.

A loud blast near the cantina catches your attention as they blow up the door and you grab another blaster off the ground and run off before Din has a chance to stop you. You slowly edge your way through the cantina door, guessing that Cara is in there providing cover fire. The storm troopers have their backs to you looking through the large room and you use this to your advantage. You shoot two in quick succession before ducking behind a table to take cover. You take a deep breath, listening for a pause in blaster shots before popping up quickly to take out two more. You move your aim over to the last trooper who has his own blaster aimed at you and before you can shoot, the shadow trooper crumples to the ground, Cara standing behind him with her own blaster trained on him.

“Gods, am I glad to see you,” she rushes over to you and clasps your shoulder. You return the gesture in greeting. You both quickly make your way back to the windows of the cantina to provide more cover just in time to watch Din attempt to swing the E-web around towards Moff Gideon. But he’s not quick enough. You look on in horror as the Moff shoots the case of artillery next to Din, causing a large explosion, sending the Mandalorian flying back off his feet. The blood drains from your face when you realize he isn’t getting up and you try to rush out to him but Cara stops you.

“Wait! Let me go get him.”

“Cara, please! I need to, please,” you say, barely forming a coherent sentence.

She looks at your, her gaze softening just slightly. “Do you think you can haul the tin can back in here?” You know you probably couldn’t without using that which you realize you shouldn’t because of the Empire. They were already after the kid, and if they realized you had similar abilities, it would be impossible to hide. “I’m not saying he’s a goner but you need to stay in here and stay safe for the kid and for him. Cover for me, I’ll bring him to you, okay?” You nod as she runs outside. You take down enemy after enemy as you watch Cara lift Din by his shoulder plates and begins to drag him back towards the Cantina. Rage fills you as you continue to shoot down trooper after trooper; and you enjoy the feeling of hatred and power as it consumes you.

“Hey!” Cara yells, placing a hand on the top of your blaster. You stop and whip your head in her direction; eyed wide and chest heaving with adrenaline. She holds her hands up in front of her as a sign of peace. “There you are,” she says in a quieter voice. You look around seeing IG with the child tucked safely in his pack, and the man you saw on the holocom, Greef Karga. Your eyes finally land on Din and you rush to him, collapsing before him.

“Din...” you say softly. You place your hands in his and squeeze. A sigh of relief escapes you when you feel a soft squeeze back.

“Hi, Beautiful,” he wheezes. You wince at how labored his breathing is. “Sorry, I know you told me not to call you that, but old habits die hard.”

“It’s fine. You’re fine,” you say, trying to reassure yourself more than him. You can barely focus on anything else besides the man in front of you. You barely register that IG is attempting to remove the grating from the wall.

Din presses a glove hand against your cheek and the familiar smell of leather and blaster residue brings you a small comfort. You feel his thumb stroke your cheekbone slightly.

“I’m not going to make it.”

“Don’t say that, you’re fine. We’re gonna get you out of here.” He gently takes your other hand and places it at the base of his head. You feel something warm and sticky, and your hand shakes as you bring it back to inspect. Blood.

“I can fix you right up but...but I have to...” you begin to say, your hands slowly inching towards his helmet. He stops your advance with his own.

“You know I can’t.”

“But, Din...”

“This is the way.”

You bite back your tears. You want to rip his helmet off of him and tell him he’s stupid. You want to scream and ask him if the creed is more important to him than you and the child. More than anything you want to fall into his arms and tell him you love him.

“You have to know, I lied about everything before I left.” His hand finds your face again and you lean into him once more. “I never wanted to leave you. You...you’re everything to me.” You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel him wipe your tears away. “Beautiful, you had to have known.” You shake your head in disbelief. You feel a pull at the back of your shirt and see the child behind you. As you turn he scrambles up into your lap, looking up between you and the Mandalorian.

“No,” you say. “You’re not allowed to do that. You’re not allowed to say things like that when you won’t let me save you.” You’re body is shaking at this point as you hold onto the child tighter. A blast of fire interrupts you as the cantina door bursts open. A flame trooper steps in through the flames and another pass of fire comes through, the force of its heat throwing you and the child against the Mandalorian. For the briefest moment fear strikes your heart but an immediate calm washes over you and once again you find yourself in a trancelike state. It feels almost like a dream as you watch your hand and the child’s hand raise up in sync as you see the flames comes so close to you before time seems to stop. You exhale and everything comes crashing back as a huge wave of energy is pushed away from you and the child. The fire is forced the other direction, sending the trooper and flames flying out of the cantina. You blink a few times and look down at the child who is looking back at you.

“What in the world was that??” Karga asks but the droid is quick to silence him. Even Cara looks alarmed but keeps quiet as she watches the three of you.

“You had to know...that was why I didn’t want you to be here.” Din says with some effort. “I needed to keep you safe. And I knew you wouldn’t let me go without you.”

“I’m so mad at you still,” you say lamely.

“I know, Beautiful, but let this be my apology.” Din yanks a chain off his neck and presses it into your hand. “Bring this to the covert. Tell them it’s from me. Tell them you and the kid are my family and they’ll protect you.”

Family.

Your heart throbs when he says it. “I can’t leave you.”

“You have to. I’ll hold them off long enough for you to escape. Please, let me do this.”

“Din...”

He places his hand behind your head and brings your forehead down to touch his helmet.

“I love you.”

Said at the same time and you can almost laugh at the irony. Here is a man you thought incapable of loving and being loved, yet so thoughtful and fierce in his loyalty. He wouldn’t let you stay, this was his final act of love for you and for the child.

“Miss, I will stay with the Mandalorian. Escape and protect the child. You are his mother,” IG says as he kicks the grate open. He comes to you with the empty sack, placing the child in it before returning him to you. “Many hostiles are making their way to us, our time is limited.”

You look to Din once more and he nods. You touch your forehead to his helmet one more time before taking his hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. The child coos, his hands reaching out for him.

“Sorry, baby,” he says as he touches the child’s ear. “Can’t go along with you this time.” He shifts his gaze to you and watches as your tears fall.

“Hey.”

“I know,” you say with a watery smile, “good bounty hunters aren’t supposed to cry.” You squeeze his hand once more as you get up and look to the droid.

“Promise me you’ll bring him, IG.”

“You have my word, miss.”

With a quick nod of your head you bring the child up closer to you as you enter the darkness of the sewers. You feel your chest ache with each step further you take away from the Mandalorian, your heart left bleeding next to him.

————————

Okay. OKAY. I SWEAR THIS WILL CONTINUE AND PART THREE SHOULD BE THE LAST. I’M SO SORRY I KEEP DOING THIS. But I love you guys soooo much!!

Tag list:

@momc95 @electricprincess888 @maia-hocane @lamnothome @highonsoundwaves @tedpicklez @renreypoe @mabelleen @cryptkeepersoul @holamor @mando-vibes @lustriix @katialvi @spookyold-saintjm

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peachyteabuck · 5 years ago

Text

nothing ever lasts forever ~ act iii, “if we ruled the world”

summary: a sort-of non-avengers au where everyone has their powers and absolutely no one is in a highly powerful mob (or, at least, that’s what the feds think).

or, a commission in three parts for anonymous, who asked for a series about wanda x natasha x reader.

pairing: wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff x reader

words: 3,501

trigger warnings: switch!nat, sub!wanda, dom!reader, strap ons, degradation, bratty wanda, brat taming

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

READ ACT I, ACT II

Wanda gets the text that night, just as you’ve fallen asleep and Wanda was about to follow suit. Your light snores fill the room, Wanda listens for them as her too-bright phone screen burns her eyes.

Office. Tomorrow morning. 10.

And then a knife emoji. Sharp. Natasha Romanoff does not tolerate a lot of things, including tardiness.

Wanda goes to bed afraid and wakes up even worse – the churning in her gut only intensifying as she walked up the concrete path that lead into Natasha’s house. She’s never been more terrified in her life. Is she about to be fired? Are you dead? Is she dead? Is Wanda a ghost? Has Natasha been convincing Wanda that she’s been alive this whole time and now it’s time to break the façade and have Wanda move onto the ghost realm?

Being called into Natasha’s office and being asked to sit in the center chair is nothing short of demoralizing, intimidating. She’s seen it happen before, clients or employees Natasha has to deliver terrible news to – they never take it well, always crying and sobbing and wailing. They always have to be carried away by the guards stationed outside Natasha’s office and into their cars.

Will that have to happen to her? Will two giant-ass dudes have to carry her outside so she can have an emotional breakdown on the impeccably well-kept grass? What if someone sees her having said emotional breakdown on the impeccably well-kept grass? What if Wanda Maximoff gets caught by the many institutions of which she is running and hiding from?

The chair has a heavy dent in it from the other shameful citizens (and non-citizens, and those not defined as people) of whom have sat in the chair before her. Natasha doesn’t meet Wanda’s gaze, keeping her eyes focused on the bare desk in front of her.

Both of them can barely breathe, each having an equally silent crisis. Neither speaks until the door has been long shut, the sounds outside the room blocked out by the heavy doors.

“I once had sex with your girlfriend,” Natasha says, so quick the words mesh into one.

Wanda shakes her head, running her hands through her hair. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Natasha exhales deeply, clenching her eyes shut before speaking again. “I had sex with your girlfriend.”

Wanda eyes go wide with sadness – worried her worst nightmare is true. “She…you…she chea-“

Natasha holds out her hands, only now realizing her mistake in phrasing. “NO! No! Absolutely not. No, that’s not what happened. That’s not…No, Wanda, she didn’t cheat on you with me, that’s not what I’m saying.”

Wanda – still wringing her hands – breathes deeply. “Then what…what…”

Natasha sighs, trying to find the right words. “Do you remember when Bucky got hurt? Like, when his arm got,” she wiggles the same arm Bucky lost in the accident – the one Natasha inadvertently caused.

Wanda looks confused but answers anyway. “Yeah, like a year ago.”

“I got, I got super drunk that night. And it was, uh, the woman is now your girlfriend, she uh…she helped me that night – she uh, she got me back to her apartment. Made sure I slept and didn’t die choking on my own vomit. And took care of me the next morning…” Natasha sighs, worried about what she’s going to say. “The next morning, we had sex.” Natasha whispers the last sentence sadly, wringing her hands. “We haven’t talked since.”

Wanda, stunned, says nothing. Each time she believes she’s found the words they fail to capture the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts flashing in front of her eyes. Blood pounds in her ears and her hands shake and her heart pounds – nevertheless, the two of them continue to converse even as Wanda’s eyes water. Everything’s a blur – the only clarity when Wanda thumps her way up the several flight of stairs that lead into her, your apartment.

She opens the door hastily, hands shaking near-violently as she finds the right key and turns it in the lock. If this were any other day, she’d step in as quietly as possible – try to be a voyeur in her own home to try and catch even a second of you cooking peacefully. You’re in one of her shirts, a large one that hits your thighs and rides up when you bent down or stand on your tip-toes or bend forward over a pot.

Whatever you’re cooking smells delicious, enough to distract from the matter at hand – to stop Wanda in her tracks as thick spices and hearty herbs fills her nostrils.

Still, it only allows her a few seconds of peace before she’s stepping into the kitchen, fists clenched at her sides and breathing quick and shallow. The wrath, the dread, it blinds and deafens her – the only thing Wanda hears being the only words she could hope would leave your lips.

“I mean, I know what you did, what you do. You’ve told me enough I just…” you sigh. “I had no idea. I like, sort of knew what Nat did. I just didn’t have any idea that you two knew each other. Or that she, uh, was your boss.”

Wanda looks as if she’s about to cry, her chest heaving. “Are you sure?”

You nod, moving toward her but not touching her. “Wanda, I’d tell you if I fucked your boss the second I would’ve found out – but, babe,” you try to calm your beating heart by digging your nails into your palms. It doesn’t work. “Even if I knew, you have to understand. This was over a year ago, I haven’t seen her since, and I love you. We’ve built a home together. Me having sex with her doesn’t change that.”

There’s silence, then, the thick kind that comes from a fight without resolve. You’re worried she’ll storm out, only to return when she decides – or, worse, tell you to pack your things and leave. Wanda does neither of those things, though, instead silently moving to the stir the pot before tasting at the wooden spoon.

You know everything will be fine when she makes a comment about needing more salt – the special kind you bought a long while ago from the farmer’s market that somehow hadn’t run out. Your mother once told you that the kitchen could end all disagreements, all squabbles and verbal throwdowns. You never really believed you until now, as you both silently cook, and then eat, and then clean up together.

Not a word is exchanged until you’re both in bed, you curled around her on your side as she lays flat on her back. It’s then, after the sun has long set and the last scents of food had gone up though the vents, that one of you speaks.

Wanda swallows, mumbling something that, whether or not is her intention, only she can hear. “Natasha says she wants to see you.”

Your eyes narrow, brows furrowed as you pick up your head to look at her. “What?”

Wanda doesn’t meet your gaze as she speaks. “I talked to Natasha this morning about it. About you. That’s why, uh. I came home like that. It’s not that I don’t trust you, I just…wanted to talk about it…”

You nudge closer to her as she trails off, trying to reassure her. “It’s okay, babe, you don’t have…I trust you. It’s okay.”

Wanda nods before continuing. “She and I were talking, and she asked to see you after. Wanted my permission, though. Wanted to make sure I was okay with it.”

“Are you?” you whisper as your heart rate picks back up – though, this time, for a much different reason.urus

She nods. “I mean, I’m not some overprotective Dad on prom night – I’m never gonna stop you from seeing someone. Told her it was up to you.”

You exhale deeply, still silent. It takes a long while for you to say anything, and even then it doesn’t do much to dissolve the thick tension in the room. “I do want to see her again,” Wanda clears her throat but you continue speaking before she can begin. “But I want you there, too.”

That’s how, two weeks later, you find yourself intoxicated in a way you can’t describe, standing next to your bed as both women kneel before you.

You’re not drunk. Drunk is too extreme. Drunk makes you seem rash, impulsive – like you don’t know what you’re doing, why you’re doing it. Makes it seems like you don’t want to remember this, want to be able to blame all

You’re not drunk, you’re bold. You’re two sips into some old-as-balls bourbon you got when you graduated college – gifted to you by a professor who thought it meant he’d let you get into his pants. Fool. You’re a woman with fire resting on your skin and the world teetering at your fingertips. You control everything. And today, “everything” is defined as two of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen on their knees in front you.

It’s natural, wonderful – the feeling of looking down at them with their big eyes and hair pulled back into French braids and dark collars on their milky skin. Neither of them has leashes – yet…but judging by the glint in Natasha’s eyes and the smirk playing at her lips that you’ll need to get it from its resting place on her desk very soon.

“I think this is the stuff dreams are made of,” you say to no one and both of them. “Two sluts at my feet for me to use. Two perfect little toys at my disposable. I wonder what I should have you do first…”

At the foot of the best is a loveseat, draped upon the loveseat is a towel covered in sex toys – placed carefully with even amounts of space between them. A few empty spots mark where toys used to be – most notably the collars and the baby pink butt plug Wanda’s wearing.

It’s the double-ended dildo that ends up catching your eye. It’s half baby blue and half black, mixing in the middle; thick, long, girthy. Wanda bought it for you awhile back – a gift after she had to leave for a last-minute business trip with little explanation but a lot of apology. You didn’t mind, her explanation for her job had been quite believable and you did not worry. Still, you didn’t refuse the gifts she showered you with when she got back eight days later.

You smile at the memory, but also from the anticipation. You turn back to the two women on the floor, snapping in each of their faces before pointing to opposite walls. Despite this, they wait for your verbal command before moving a muscle.

Such good girls, the both of them.

“Now,” you tell them calmly. Obediently and without hesitation, they do as they’re told. It’s then that you can admire their matching lingerie sets. They were expensive (you hesitate to spend that much on rent, let alone four pieces of skimpy, see-through fabric), you can’t deny it. But the crotchless panties, framing each of their wet pussies perfectly? The matching bras are just as frilly as the panties and the deep maroon contrasts both of their pale skin tones. Intricate lace is almost, almost distracting from their pert nipples and skin you want to bite and bruise and mark. “Face opposite walls so I can watch you fuck yourself properly.”

They’re both so beautiful, so desperate. Through the chorus of their moans and whimpers you can hear their wet cunts fucking back on the thick double-ended dildo.

Wanda, as usual, is already making those noises that mean she’s about to come – her hips making tighter movements and wide eyes screwed shut.

“Aw, does my baby wanna come?” you coo, moving the sweaty hair away from her reddened face.

Wanda whines high in her throat, fucking back on the dildo with vigor. “Yes, yes yes please lemme come I wanna come Mommy please!”

Natasha, the quieter of the two, nods furiously as her face scrunches up in concentration. Her moans are low and breathy, hips driving backwards in target hits against Wanda.

Part of you wants to deny them, watch them with cry and choke on their own tears as they focus on following orders, on being good, on not coming. Another part of you wants to watch them fall apart, watch their thighs shake and legs give out and blissful faces find their way long their faces and listen to them moan and cry and thank you with hushed, raspy voices.

It doesn’t take much deliberating for the latter side of you to win out – to give them permission and instruct them to rub their clits as you take another sip of alcohol. Small sparks dance along Wanda’s fingers as they move over her pussy, control over her powers ceding to that over her pleasure. Some of the small swirls of red-orange-yellow-blue seem to dance between their bodies, affecting Natasha as well, who cries out an especially pained noise as each spark touches and subsequently dissipates against her skin. The thrusts of their hips become even more erratic as the waves of their orgasms come crashing down on them, their breathing only steadying as you began to speak once more.

“Natasha,” you snap once in her direction, waiting for her body to jerk as a signal she’s paying attention. “Get atop Wanda…” you pause, then laugh. “I mean, straddle her to keep her hips pined to the ground.”

Wanda, normally incredibly mousy, seems to be drinking from the same fire-filled cup you’ve been sipping.

“Yeah, as if Natasha could top anybody,” she snorts. You and Natasha both snap your heads towards her, yours crooking to the side.

“You want to say that again?” you more command than ask.

Wanda, voice back to usual smallness, swallows loudly. “Uh, I, uh. I said. I said Natasha,” she coughs, tries to save herself. It doesn’t work. “I said, ‘as if Natasha could dom anybody,’ Mommy.”

Silence – a heavy one – falls over the room. You turn around, slowly, meeting Wanda’s eyes first and then Natasha’s. The latter woman looks to you for permission.

With one, small nod, she stands and looms over the other woman.

“You’re going to regret that,” you say – mostly to yourself. The wicked smile, though, is for the both of them.

“Do you want to test me?” Natasha hisses. She loops her forefinger in the stainless-steel O-ring and jerks Wanda forward so their lips are barely touching. Wanda takes it as an invitation, but pouts as Natasha pulls away. “You think you’re getting anything but a punishment after what you pulled?”

Wanda’s large eyes drain of mischief with every passing second that she studies the woman in front of her – realizing her mistake. It’s not long until she’s looking at her for assistance from you, her pleading eyes and cat-like features so cute you almost give in to her silent prayers.

Keyword: almost.

“Answer your Daddy,” you say plainly. You press your thighs together, desperate for friction but not wanting to give in just yet.

“N-no,” Wanda stutters. “No, Daddy.”

Natasha pulls at Wanda’s collar once more, hissing through her teeth. “I’ll give you one more chance to correct yourself.”

You can practically hear Wanda’s petrified gulp and you relish the fear in her wide eyes. “No, Daddy. I understand I deserve a punishment.”

“Good,” she says, letting the collar go. “now go lay on the bed.”

Wanda does as she’s told – resting her head in your lap. It gives you the perfect view of her face as she prepares to get fucked out of her mind.

Natasha grabs the fake cock and harness from the toy collection and pulls it on easily, the jingling of the individual straps like music to her hears. You pet at her hair, cupping her chin and cooing down at her.

“You gonna be a good girl for Daddy?” you ask.

She nods, lip pulled between her teeth. “Yes, Mommy.”

“Are you gonna be a dirty slut for Daddy while Mommy watches?”

“Yes Mommy.”

Natasha’s ready, then, and announces it by backing up against a wall with the fake cock bobbing against her stomach. “Good girl, now come prep Daddy’s cock.”

Wanda moves to stand, but immediately drops to her knees when Natasha glares at her and hisses, “Don’t you dare.”

She crawls across the room, head hung in shame and pussy soaked with anticipation. Wanda only looks up to wrap her lips around the silicon head, one of Natasha’s hands cradling the back of her neck with the other tangled in her hair. “I’m going to have so much fun with you,” you hear Natasha mumble as Wanda gags for the first time. “Can’t wait to make you come over and over, watch you not know whether to beg me to stop or keeping going. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Wanda nods, never breaking eye contact with Natasha.

“You better not be touching yourself, you needy little thing,” you tsk from across the room as your fingers rub at your own clit. “Dirty sluts don’t get to come, do they.”

Wanda does her best to shake her head as Natasha continues to fuck her throat.

Sloppy, wet sounds punctuate Natasha’s words. “You like that, don’t you, baby girl? You like taking this big cock down your throat like this?”

Before Wanda can nod, Natasha’s pulling her head away suddenly, the woman on the floor gasping for air. She barely has time to catch her breath before Natasha’s picking her up and slamming her back against the wall, Wanda’s legs instinctively wrapping around Natasha’s waist.

Wanda moans, loud and unabashed, as Natasha fucks into her. You grab an unused vibrator from the end of the bed and begin to fuck yourself with it, the thrusts of the toy timed with Natasha’s. It’s good – it’s all so good – and your vision begins to cloud around the edges as you and Wanda both come together one, two times.

You’re breathing heavy when Natasha decides Wanda’s had enough, laughing as Wanda’s eyes remain unfocused and her breath comes out in pants.

“Pathetic,” Natasha mumbles just loud enough for you to hear. She lets go of Wanda’s hips, the woman collapsing onto the floor with weak knees. Still, that harsh exterior melts away as Wanda lays there, motionless and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Natasha crouches down, then sits next to her, face softening. “Aw,” she coos, pulling Wanda into her so that she’s sitting on Natasha’s lap on the floor. “Such a good little girl for me. For us.”

Natasha rocks Wanda back and forth, giving her the occasional kiss to her temple or cheek or wherever else she can reach. You watch them for a minute or two, watch your two favorite people in the whole world mold themselves to each other, oblivious to whatever happened to go on around them. Eventually you go to the bathroom to dampen a cloth with warm water and get a glass of water (or, in this case, a mug you’d been meaning to take back to the kitchen for about a week. It only held water before, anyway, so you don’t feel that bad when you give it to Natasha to hold for your exhausted girlfriend to drink out of).

Wanda whimpers when you wipe down her pussy, flinching away and trapping your hand between her thighs. Before you can comfort her, though, Natasha does.

“Shh libchen,” she coos into her sweaty hairline. “Let Daddy care for you alright?”

Wanda makes a noise high in her throat to signal how much she really doesn’t want the terry cloth against her center, but nonetheless allows Natasha to hold her thighs open as you clean her up. It’s awhile before Wanda full returns to reality – awhile before her breathing goes back to normal, her pupils becoming smaller, her legs not shaking.

“You wanna go to bed or get something to eat?” you ask.

Wanda doesn’t respond, but her droopy eyes and limp body answer the question for you.

“Let’s put her to bed and order food in few hours,” you tell Natasha. “The diner down the street is 24-hour, menu’s on the fridge. One of us can call later.”

Natasha whispers an “okay,” careful not to wake Wanda. She lifts the sleeping woman into the bed you share with her, watching her for a moment before beckoning you over. You oblige, because of course you do. Noiselessly, you and Natasha lay on either side of Wanda, your hands touching ever so lightly as fatigue acts as a fire blanket – putting the previous actions of the night to rest.

You all fall asleep like that, sweaty limbs tangled and chests heaving in sync. In truth, you never could’ve asked for anything better – this, being with the both of them, is bliss. Hopefully, you never have to be without either of them ever again.

#wanda x nat x reader #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat #lukis does commissions #lukis writes stuff

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lavendersblues · 5 years ago

Note

Buddie + 3? I'm living vicariously through you and several others with this ship ^^;

Valentine’s day at the firehouse always sucked, in Buck’s humble opinion. His last few had been miserable (the date with Abby was nice, the impromptu tracheotomy not so much). And now that Bobby was married, suddenly Buck was one of the last single people on their shift.

“Oh cheer up, Buck,” Hen teased as she caught sight of his moping face. “You’re not the only single person in the firehouse this year.”

She then sent a significant glance towards Eddie’s back and Buck didn’t know whether or not to be sad or comforted. He settled on sad, giving Hen the briefest acknowledgement, before returning to staring at the back of Eddie’s LAFD shirt bearing his name.

The thing was bothering Buck most, however, was that he knew Eddie wasn’t supposed to be single.

Eddie was supposed to be spending this Valentine’s day with Shannon. But that option had been taken from him in the most tragic way. Not only had Shannon asked for a divorce, but she’d been hit by a car. Eddie hadn’t even had a chance to make things right before Shannon was gone. It wasn’t fair.

Before Buck could spiral further into his own thoughts of tragedy, self-pity, and sadness -- both for himself and for his best friend slash unrequited love -- Eddie turned and offered Buck a beaming smile that sunk right into his heart.

“Hey Buck,” Eddie greeted, slapping Buck on the shoulder with a hand and giving it a gentle squeeze -- an act reminiscent of a day in the not too distant past where Eddie had broken through the final lock on Buck’s heart. “Have any plans for today?”

Buck shrugged. “Oh, you know, pizza and Star Trek. It’s really just another day when you’re single.”

“True that!” Chimney called from the balcony, and a there was a swell of chuckles that followed. When the echoes died out, as they finished bouncing around the spacious concrete structure, Eddie turned back to Buck with those hyperfocused eyes.

“There’s nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you.”

“So why don’t you come over and do pizza and Star Trek with me and Christopher? We can make it a boy’s night. I’ll even spring for beers.”

Buck’s heart lurched in his chest and then quickly shifted into fluttering almost painfully as a tiny bubble of hope rose up. He tried desperately to quash it and play off his agreement with nonchalance. “Oh, yeah, sure! That sounds great. I’ll bring the pies.”

Eddie gave that heartwarming half smile that sent Buck’s heart into a tizzy as he clapped Buck’s shoulder one last time. “Sounds great. See you at six?”

“Yeah,” Buck dry swallowed. “Six.”

As Eddie’s retreating back disappeared out of sight, Buck heard a faint clicking. He turned to his left and saw Chim and Hen with their arms crossed, Hen with her head bowed as she shook it back and forth, clicking her tongue.

“Boys,” she muttered with heavy exasperation.

Chimney nodded sagely at her side. “You said it.”

---

Buck pulled up to Eddie’s house at 6:03 PM after having showered and shaved (slightly), with piping hot pizza from Giovanni’s, the small local restaurant that was only ten minutes from Eddie’s place and was an immediate favorite of Christopher’s. There were two boxes -- one, a standard combination pizza for Eddie and Buck, and a smaller pepperoni and mushroom pizza for Christopher.

Knocking once for an air of politeness, Buck shouldered open the door with a practiced ease. “I’ve got pizza!” he called into the apartment. There was an immediate flurry of noise as Christopher came barreling down the hall as fast as his crutches would carry him before he collided hard with Buck’s midriff.

“Buck!” Christopher was chanting, hugging Buck tightly. “Buck! Buck! Buck!”

“Hey, buddy!” Buck slid the pizza boxes onto Eddie’s counters before reaching down to envelop his favorite kid in a tight, protective hug. One hand landed on the back of Christopher’s head the way it had when he’d pulled Christopher from the water all those months ago. All Buck wanted to do was wrap Christopher up in his arms and keep him safe forever, but experience had taught him that you couldn’t wrap up kids in bubble wrap.

“Buck! It’s boy’s night!” Christopher crowed happily before detaching himself from Buck and moving back into the living room. “Gonna watch Star Trek with us, Buck?”

“You know it!” Buck grinned, glancing up as Eddie entered from the hallway with a soft smile. Buck’s heart did a backflip. Eddie’s hair was damp, and so was the collar of his shirt -- he must have just gotten out of the shower. He looked so clean he was almost glowing (but Buck was almost positive that Eddie glowed even after a four-alarm fire with his hair sweat matted and his face smeared with soot).

“Thanks for coming Buck,” Eddie said softly as he went for the pizza, using the disposable plates Giovanni’s had provided. “Beer’s in the fridge. I’ll get the disk loaded up in the DVD player.”

Buck grabbed two beers and a bottle of IBC Root Beer for Christopher (Eddie’s way to help Christopher feel included when the adults had their ‘grown-up drinks’). He popped the tops and set them on the coasters spread across the coffee table. Christopher had plopped himself into a special ‘movie theater’ seat that Eddie had bought off eBay. It had a cup holder and it reclined like the fancy new seats that were sweeping the nation, but it was miniature and just the right size for an eager seven-year old to use as he ate his pizza from the coffee table.

“So, what episodes are we watching?” Buck asked curiously from the couch where he had unceremoniously thrown himself, leaving just enough space for Eddie who shoved his legs out of the way before sitting.

“Wait, you actually meant the TV show?” Eddie asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “What happened to the Buck who didn’t care about anything that was made before you were born?”

Buck felt his face heat as he grew flustered. “Well, I just knew it was Christopher’s favorite show that he shared with you so I started watching it. I’m not very far -- I fall asleep a lot when it’s on. But I think I’m in Season 2?”

Eddie looked gobsmacked. It took a second but he shook his head, seeming to regain his composure. “We’re actually watching the 2009 movie with Chris Pine. Lots of explosions and action sequences. We thought it was more your style.”

“And sky-diving!” Chris piped up from the floor. “They go sky-diving!”

Both Eddie and Buck laughed, and Eddie took that moment to hit play on the menu screen before he settled in with his pizza, nestled just close enough to Buck to be absolutely maddening. Buck watched the film with moderate interest -- he’d seen it when it had first hit the theaters with his friends back in Pennsylvania but he hadn’t been super interested in the sci-fi genre at the time.

But now he wanted to watch and appreciate the film for what it stood for as a representation of his growing closeness with Eddie and Christopher.

It was just damn hard with Eddie’s leg burning a brand into his knee through the entire two and a half hour film.

Buck was so screwed.

---

After the film ended, Buck hung around on the couch as Eddie got Christopher ready for bed. He laughed as Christopher kept trying to convince his dad to let them watch at least one episode of the original Star Trek series before bed, but Eddie wasn’t swayed.

“It might be Valentine’s and you might have had too much candy at school, but it’s still a school night and that means bedtime is at 8:30. We’re already late on getting you into pajamas and teeth brushing!”

“But dad! Buck hasn’t seen Tribbles!”

“Tribbles can wait until the next boy’s night, okay?” Buck called down the hall, craning his neck around the corner to see Christopher, half in his pajamas and partially in the doorway of the bathroom where he was standing toe to toe with Eddie. At Buck’s words, however, Christopher gave in, allowing Eddie to usher him back into the bathroom with a grateful smile sent back down the hall to Buck.

After that it took no time at all to get Christopher tucked into bed with one final, “Good night, Buck,” followed by a warm hug and the soft sounds of Eddie telling his son one last story before the door to Christopher’s bedroom shut with a muted click.

Eddie’s feet dragged down the hallway with soft heavy padding noises before the frazzled father himself rounded the corner and he collapsed onto the couch, his head nearly in Buck’s lap. Eddie stared at the ceiling for a long moment and Buck took that moment to stare at Eddie.

“Thanks for coming over tonight Buck,” Eddie sighed, his eyes drifting shut for a few long moments. “We both really needed this.”

“Yeah,” Buck replied, desperately trying to keep his voice from cracking with all of the emotion behind it. He failed. “Anytime.”

Buck paused, then continued -- “And it’s not like I had anyone that wanted to spend Valentine’s day with me anyway.”

From his position on the couch, Eddie stiffened, his eyes still remaining shut -- though now with some apparent effort. After a few moments of deliberation, Eddie sat up turning to face Buck with a heavy expression.

“I wanted to spend Valentine’s day with you, Buck. That’s why I invited you.”

It was like a punch to the solar plexus and Buck reeled backwards. “But -- but I thought you only offered because my whole plan for the day sounded pathetic.”

Eddie’s hand was on his shoulder again, warm and solid and strong.

“I was the one who asked you what you were doing today, Buck. I wanted to invite you over. I just thought your plans would be fun with the three of us.”

Buck’s heart tripped and he felt short of breath. “Wait, so -- so it’s Valentine’s day, and you wanted -- you wanted -- but it’s not like -- I mean you’re not -- you haven’t been flirting with me or anything!” he sputtered, stumbling over his words.

Where Buck was flustered and buzzing, Eddie was calm and steady.

“Buck, I’m flirting with you. I have been since the day I met you.”

“But you -- Christopher -- I don’t -- wait --,” Buck’s breaths were coming in hard and heavy and he suddenly found himself with nearly a lap full of Eddie Diaz as Eddie’s hands cupped his face and the other man drew himself closer.

“Buck, Buck,” Eddie stressed, pointing Buck’s face towards his own, “look at me Buck. Deep breaths. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Or to break your trust, but I --”

Whatever apologies or retractions Eddie had set to spill from his lips were silenced as Buck leaned forward quickly and pressed his lips against Eddie’s. Buck didn’t want the apologies or retractions or the ‘We can pretend this never happened’. He wanted this. He wanted nights watching cheesy sci-fi remake films and eating pizza and hugging Christopher good night. He wanted Eddie Diaz pressed next to him from shoulder to ankle, warm and real. He wanted all of this -- but he’d just been too afraid to say so.

Buck pulled away from Eddie’s soft and incredibly willing lips with a soft smack, feeling Eddie’s exhale brush gently against his skin. Eddie’s thumbs brushed over his cheekbones softly and sent a thrill up Buck’s spine.

“I’ve been flirting with you too,” Buck said softly, through a smile that he thought might actually break his face.

Eddie grinned then, that same bright indulgent smile that seemed to be reserved only for Buck. He pecked Buck on the lips quickly before pulling away, their smiles making it difficult to do much more.

“You’re incredible, you know that right?”

Buck couldn’t help the smirk that creeped onto his face. “So I’ve been told.”

“Shut up.”

Eddie shouldered Buck hard, sending Buck rocking back away towards the other end of the couch -- laughing all the way. But it was worth it, seeing Eddie’s pink tinged cheeks as he rolled his eyes, taking one final swig from his beer.

Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley was in love with his best friend, and it turned out that when your best friend loved you back? Valentines Day didn’t suck as bad after all.

#buddie #buddie is real #911 fox #911 on fox #my writing #OMG I LOVED THIS ONE A LOT #it's definitely going on ao3 #sorry it got out of hand???#rai-knightshade

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dreamiesdotcom · 5 years ago

Text

[7:35] Is it just you, or is the dinner lighting warmer than usual? Or maybe it was the ambiance that changed rather than the lights — the table is full of fancy dishes and everyone is placed on their respective seats, chatting. The extravagant glasses are shiny — if you look closer and focus hard enough, you could see the convincing smile plastered on your face. A sarcastic laugh rings inside your mind as you remember what you had said earlier in front of the mirror as you doll yourself up; Just pretend like you're happy until you eventually forget that you're pretending. A sigh almost draws from you, but you hear a call of your name, diverting your attention from the glassware and you meet a pair of eyes.

The Na's are back in town, and your parents being your parents, invited them over without even telling you that they would be coming until two hours before the whole deal. It's not like they had to tell you though, your opinion doesn't matter and it wouldn't mean, nor change, anything — not like it ever did.

The sound of your name sounded foreign. It has been so long since someone called you by your name that you almost forgot you even had one. To think about it, you believe that it was the way he had said it that was different — unlike others who called your name so blandly, his lips dripped with all sweet things and honey as he spat out every syllable of your name. Looking back, you remember sitting on the same bench for years, listening to the sounds of time passing like fast cars on highways, and the way that you tried to look for the sugar-coating on every cries surrounding you — the way you brushed everything off because of their plain and harsh realities until you finally stopped trying, and never listened to anything, or anyone, ever again. Nothing made you feel alive since then. Nothing was the same.

Not since Jaemin.

His gaze was still soft and it brings you back to years ago — despite not seeing each other for years, he still seems so inviting and his scent never changed one bit. His smile is gentle, kind, and it annoys you because of how much it reminds you of how you still completely, undeniably, stupidly miss him, and you're thinking that at this point, nothing is gonna change that. Alongside the memories, he brings back feelings you'd rather keep buried.

You want to run to him. You can't run to him. He left you. He left you like he said he wouldn't, like everyone else who he said he wouldn't be anything close to — he lied to you and you don't want to run to him who is a liar. But damn was it tempting.

"Oh, I remember our little Y/N and Jaemin running around the playground before," Mrs. Na smiles as if on cue before Jaemin tries to start up a conversation, "I still remember Jaemin asking about how to make flower crowns for his princess Y/N."

"Weren't you guys dating?" your dad cracks up alongside the whole table, except you who had your hands clenched, "I remember my little girl coming home to me and telling me that she has a boyfriend and is gonna be married, at five years old."

"We’re just friends," you say firmly, "Me and Jaemin, we’re just friends," you force yourself to push his name out of your mouth and it left your throat parched. You feel their gazes burn you and you look away, like you always did.

It’s usually not a lie. Usually. But this time, it's true, you're just friends. That was partially true because that's what you called it, but that was not how it felt like. Jaemin is your best friend. Or was. Maybe Jaemin was your best friend — although he was always more than that. Either way, the things you said as a five year old isn't supposed to make you that defensive, and you apologize about being so uptight when you're supposed to have fun with them. They brush it off easily, laughing about how adorable you are despite growing into such a woman.

This feels nice. Just your parents, Jaemin's parents, Jaemin himself, you and the wall you built around yourself. The attention given to you tonight was worth the attention your parents give you a year, and the compliments you got in a single night was equal to what you had in years and it frightened you how strange it felt. You dwell on it until you couldn't anymore, and your past is swallowing you up yet again.

It was a mess after Jaemin and his family moved, leaving you with his favorite hoodie and a snow-drop. You tore it all to shreds — or you wish you did. You didn't want to face the fact that it is still safely tucked under your pillow, and the flower pressed in between the pages of the novel the two of you used to read together. It's still there, marking your favorite chapter, as safe as the piece of clothe — wanting to forget but afraid to get rid of him completely. Jaemin was the only one who saw you. Jaemin was the only one who gave you attention and love your parents deprived you of, and Jaemin was the person who broke you more than all of the others did.

You were in too deep when he left and to distract yourself, you decided to do volunteer work because it kept you busy and the work gave you satisfaction — it made you feel as if you were needed. For the next months you tried to make everybody happy to fill the void in your heart, until it ended the way it's bound to end — you completely forgot yourself trying to make everybody glad, until it drained you, until you had nothing left, until you stopped.

You realized that sulking did you nothing so you eventually resorted to making friends — it was a wild ride. At first you befriended the nice ones, but all it did was make you realize that you were really a disposable person. You weren't there because anyone liked you, but instead they took you in because they didn't want to look rude. You were with them, but you didn't belong, and as you predicted, they all left you and all the blame was directed on you by your parents — they said, you were too uptight, too clingy, too emotional and you always over talked to people it became annoying and awkward.

In spite, you loosened up, isolated yourself so much that you hated affection, let yourself out in the cold too long that your heart froze. Being the good child didn't do you good, maybe you can get more attention with destructive tactics — it's not like there's much to destroy in you, anyway. You made up a lot of stories about your adventures when someone asked you about them, and always told people you're okay, you're fine, you're doing well, even when you're falling apart. Maybe it was partly because you didn't want anyone to know, maybe it was because nobody was interested about you to insist you talk about things because it's so obvious that you're not fine at all — and maybe because you knew that no one would be around long enough to figure out you were lying. As expected, none of your friendships worked out.

You never learned how to make and keep friendships. You did your best to be outgoing for years, but at the seclusion of your room, you can always just stay alone and be fine. As fine as a sad person could be. Whenever someone comes over, you do your best to help them be comfortable — you have to help them. You cook food, serve drinks and even let them have control on what to watch even if it bored you — 'If I keep helping them, they’ll hang out longer'. You just grew tired of it — chasing people who don’t want you for affection they wouldn't provide you with. You grew tired of being so easily led on. It never felt like you belonged anywhere else, and you like it. You grew to like it. You liked it so much it made you cry sometimes, or that's what you wanted to believe. At day you daydreamed of being the person everyone needs, and at night you thought of having someone cuddle you close and whisper assuring things in your ears — every second that passed, you imagined living far, far away.

"Hey," a voice snaps you out of your daze and you recognize your bedroom from the velvet pillows and lavander fragrance — you don't remember your room being this bright, you didn't find the sense of switching the lights on because it was just endless dark even with blinding lights, anyway. "You spaced out."

You settle down and he takes the space beside you before lying down, making a comment about how your room changed a lot but your bed frame didn't even move an inch (despite it being bigger now, he just became a giant). You remain silent through it all, still trying to comprehend that Jaemin is beside you.

"So, how's school going?" he asks you, trying to spark up a conversation. A bad start, really. "Any friends?" An even worst follow up.

"None," you focus your gaze elsewhere, as long as it's not his eyes, "I always transfer schools anyway. All the friends I make the past school year ends up leaving." Lies. You were just not that interesting to make them stay.

Still, you're not about to make yourself look like the broken hearted fool you are to Jaemin — you miss him, yes, and he's not about to know that.

"That's it? You just let yourself be alone?" he suddenly springs up in a sitting position, "Didn't I tell you to surround yourself with people before I come back, so you don't feel lonely?"

'And you also said you wouldn't leave, but I didn't question you about that, did I?' was what you desperately wanted to tell him, but you settle with the plain and boring "Well, it was just easier for me to be alone than to explain why I can't be what they want me to be."

A moment of silence wraps around the two of you and neither dared to breathe, neither dared to speak. He laid back down, groaning when his head meets a hard surface and your eyes widen at the realization — he already took away the pillow and revealed the old piece of clothe and the book way before you could even stop him, and your heart beated so rapidly and so slowly at the same time.

"Oh… you... you kept it," he says, in awe as he scrambles to get up and stand in front of you, "Y/N… You…"

"I didn't know what to do with it. Why did my parents let you upstairs in my room, anyway?" you mutter, eyes looking up at the ceiling, your voice quiet until you decide to crack up to a laughing mess, "If you wonder why I kept it, you said it was only an out of town trip for a week… so naturally, I kept it and waited until you came back to retrieve it. I got tired of waiting and forgot about it, until today. It doesn't mean anything."

Lies. Infact, you though about it everyday, every second that passes, every breathe you take. You whine silently when Jaemin moves to kneel in front of you so that you are at eye level, hands moving to grab yours and you couldn't see anything through the blur covering your sight. You found the tears that spilt pathetic. You almost forgot about them — you hadn't cried in years. Maybe it was Jaemin. You nod your head, yes, of course it's Jaemin. It always is. A hand presses against your cheeks to dry them, "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have lied, because it would've been so hurtful too if I knew someone was lying to me, but I didn't have a choice. I didn't want to break your heart that way."

"So you broke my heart another way, instead?", you chuckle sarcastically, and even if you want to push his hands away, you didn't. It felt nice. It felt cozy. It felt like many years ago, it felt like something you shouldn't get used to because of it's uncertain nature, "Leave." you say in a brittle voice, "Leave before we end up saying things we'll regret later."

"No. You're mad, Y/N, I know, but it wasn't meant to go this far, I swear. It wasn't supposed to," he grasps your hands tighter, "Do you trust me, Y/N? Do you trust me enough to know that I would never intentionally break your heart like that?"

"Why? Will that make you stay?" your tone was shaky and you couldn't help but sob, because hell, that's what you want him to say and that's what you want to hear. That he will stay. That he won't leave. That he's yours, and has always been.

He stands up, and you're just so ready for him to leave. You thought it was the best option for the moment, but the hug he tugged you into proved you wrong, and in his hold, you realized that you were content with being alone, but you didn't fancy being lonely.

This feels nice. Just Jaemin, you, and the wall you built around yourself that took itself down to let him in.

"I'm gonna stay. I'm here to stay." he whispers, and it was enough to open all the doors you locked away from people's reach. It felt weird but welcomed, being hugged by him, and the first time after so many years you felt safe — safe enough to let your guards down. You talked and talked until there was nothing to talk about anymore, until every little heartache was explained to him, until he confessed his love and until he claimed your lips, ever so gentle and dripping of the honey you craved for so badly.

This feels nice. Just Jaemin, you, and the home the two of you built for yourselves. Always happy, maybe facing little bumps every now and then but not any less content, warm, and never short of sugar, sweets and honey.

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trashogram · 5 years ago

Text

Devotee II.

Ryuk/Misa

Warnings: Emotional/Psychological Manipulation, Abusive Relationships, Dubious Consent to Interspecies Relations, Painful Sex, and Sociopath Light Yagami

Part One | Part Three

When he fully processed Light’s proposition, Ryuk had cackled madly. His crowing built up like oncoming thunder, and the chains he wore rattled and clinked with the intensity. He laughed so hard that he had to hold onto his sides, long arms wrapping around his emaciated stomach as if it truly strained him.

Misa had stood behind the arrogant man, looking pale as a ghost. Her eyes were wide as the moon and she was uncharacteristically silent during their exchange, but it wasn’t hard to see why with the whole picture.

“You’ve finally lost it, Light-o.” Ryuk guffawed, feet finally back on the ground after he’d risen out of astonishment.

Light was unphased. “It’s not a joke.”

The laughter finally stopped, and Ryuk stood there with mounting confusion.

“... Why…?” He was truly dumbfounded, brain short-circuiting over how this could possibly be happening.

“You can’t trade her for the eyes.” The god of death chided Light. “No way would - ”

“ - Would offering Misa be enough to gain Shinigami eyes?” Light interrupted. “That’s fine. I figured as much.”

“That’s not what I want.” Light said, lips quirking. “I don’t want anything from you.”

He reached behind himself and pulled Misa forward by the wrist, holding her out for the shinigami to take, as if Misa was just another apple.

Ryuk reared back, head swiveling so fast that were he not already impervious to death, he would’ve broken his neck. Misa looked up at him with her hands clasped together in prayer.

“Ryuk.” She addressed him, voice hoarse. “Please, please do this with me. It’s all I want.”

He’d grown so accustomed to these particular humans, it wasn’t far-fetched to think he’d seen everything they had to offer. Misa’s devotion to Light Yagami went to great lengths, so far that she’d been willing to give her life for his ‘cause’... But this was crossing a different line entirely.

Ryuk’s bulbous eyes bore into the second Kira. He wouldn’t lie to himself. Misa may have been a human, and he a Shinigami, but Ryuk found the young woman plenty attractive. It didn’t matter much, knowing how crazy she was for Light, and how Misa wouldn’t have considered this in the first place. This kind of thing had likely never crossed her mind, nevertheless she was currently begging for Ryuk to fuck her.

She’d rather die first, wouldn’t she?

Or maybe she would die if she didn’t do this. Misa did look like a hostage at the moment, and Light was keeping her there with a harsh grip.

“Please?” Misa’s voice thickened with emotion, misery.

Ryuk was a little sad at the thought of Misa being disposed of so soon. And there was no rule against this, so if he did ‘help’ her here, it wouldn’t be enough to kill him.

There was another long silence, before Ryuk acquiesced by nodding.

“Alright.”

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

“You have to pretend it’s me.” Light had Misa by the shoulders, the caricature of a life coach trying to pep up a client. “That’s the only way this is going to work.”

His natural nonchalance so understated the demand that he had made of her, which he was well aware of. If this parasite of a woman weren’t so delusional, she’d already have left him and never looked back. Of course, she wouldn’t get very far considering he would just kill her, but still.

No sane person would possibly go through with this.

Light had adapted to Ryuk’s presence quickly, and regarded him with the same fondness one might bestow a stray cat. At his best, Ryuk was a not-quite-captive audience to Light’s triumphs, completely aware of how far Light had gone to secure his place as god.

That didn’t erase the fact that Ryuk was inhuman.

He was hideous. 7 feet tall while hunching, with grotesque blue-gray skin marred by stitches and deep grooves in his eccentric clothing. Ryuk was the stuff of nightmares, watching everyone with unblinking yellow eyes and a permanent grin on his ghastly face.

To Light, the shinigami barely resembled a man and looked more like an abomination trying to pretend it was human.

So, Light almost felt sorry for goading the little blonde gnat he called a girlfriend into fucking said abomination.

There wasn’t any reason for Misa to do this, truth be told. He’d planted the seed in her head that this was some nebulous albeit highly necessary test to prove her worth. If she had time to think it over, Misa would’ve realized how little sense this “test” made.

But for his own intrigue, and out of more than a little resentment, Misa’s strings were plucked expertly. She was already so needy, wanting affirmations of his love if ever he could spare them.

Light squeezed her shoulders and held her close. He faked actual care with all the grace of a trained actor.

“I know, I know.” He hushed. “It’s scary. It must seem impossible to you. It would seem that way to anyone, I’m sure.”

Why put her through it, then? Ryuk thought wryly. Aren’t you supposed to protect people you love?

Ryuk waited on the edge of the couple’s bed meanwhile, observing their silhouettes while listening to them whispering in the doorway. He felt confident that Misa herself was aware, on some level, that everything Light said was bullshit, but also knew that that didn’t matter.

Misa Amane wasn’t stupid - she was spontaneous and flighty, posing an issue more because she didn’t fit into Light’s rigid worldview then because of a lack of a brain. Nevertheless, her heart typically outbid her head when it came to decision making; and she was perpetually a prisoner to the irrational fantasy that Light genuinely cared for her.

“But I know you can do this for me, Misa.” Light said tenderly. “You’re so brave. The only one that’s worthy enough to be Kira’s wife.”

Ryuk wouldn’t have believed it had he not been Light’s shadow for this long, but that faux kindness worked. It took longer than Light would have probably liked for Misa’s shaking to have lessened somewhat. Her heavy breathing tampered down while her boyfriend held her close and rested his head atop hers, arms wrapped around her tightly like she was precious.

Light gently detached her from him again after a small eternity, putting a hand under her chin to ensure they made eye contact. Misa sniffled, nodding slowly.

—-----

The door opened with a creak, with Light and Misa filing in, the latter of whom looking like she was about to be executed.

When Misa turned on her heels to face Ryuk, she was unaware of the smug look on Yagami’s handsome face. Ryuk didn’t comment, averse to the unprecedented disgust that settled in his gut at Light’s callousness. He’d never felt disdain for Light’s actions before, though he’d gone beyond what Ryuk believed to be the limit of atrocities for a single human.

Instead, Ryuk’s attention focused on Misa as the girl crept forward, inch by literal inch. She was standing six-feet away from him before he reached out and carefully tugged her the rest of the way by her waist, making her squeak. He let go as he saw the clear trepidation in her brown eyes from this close.

The woman looked lost standing there, until Light cleared his throat expectantly.

Ryuk’s brow lifted. “You’re gonna be in here, too?”

Light shrugged, taking a seat parallel to the bed. The bastard was actually failing at containing the smirk on his face over this.

“Freak.” Ryuk chortled uncomfortably.

Misa inhaled and exhaled a few times, shoulders rising and falling, before masking her fear with determination. Her counterpart cocked his head, watching her curiously.

Without warning, Misa’s eyes shut tight and Ryuk balked when she pitched forward. The woman was so short that she needed to apply her weight on her toes as she made to kiss him. She couldn’t make it all the way, with Ryuk’s mouth being as big as it was, but she pecked his lower lip before drawing back.

He watched her return upright, noting the scrunch of her nose. Oddly, it wasn’t a look of disgust on her face as much as it was one of perplexity.

“You’re really cold.” Misa determined out loud.

“Oh, uh yeah...” Ryuk replied, flinching at the sound of his own voice. “Sorry, about that. Not much I can do…”

The silence that followed was awkward, making Ryuk twitch, and he scoured his brain for a way to end it all.

His taloned hands came to rest on Misa’s hips, allowing him the opportunity to savor the heat that had seeped from her body into her clothes. Even with the fabric of her shorts in the way, he was able to feel the shape of her, and her supple flesh.

Misa grabbed Ryuk’s claws, steadying herself in his grip and wincing at the fact that the shinigami’s hands were just as cold as his lip. Her hands quickly slid from his, up to grasp the leather covering his lean arms.

Her touch started a flurry of feelings inside his abdomen. He was uncomfortable, but the feeling was slowly fading away in favor of excitement.

It had been a while since Misa’s touch had forced him to dematerialize out of shyness. He still felt strangely when she made contact with him, but it was less of a churning in his stomach and more of a fluttering. Ryuk had begun anticipating her affectionate gestures over time, to where he was bummed out if a day passed and he’d been neglected.

Never had his desire for physical contact with her amounted to a shared embrace or groping, however. He wasn’t as delusional as Misa, no matter how badly he wanted something.

“Don’t you think she’s overdressed, Ryuk?” Light asked across from them.

Misa dug her nails into Ryuk’s sleeves while his hands rose to the hem of her tank top and he started to lift it up. He was already pulling the flimsy piece of clothing over her shoulders before Misa remembered to lift her arms up.

When it was off and thrown to the side, the girl immediately covered her chest.

Ryuk chuckled, dragging his knuckles against her side, feeling her ribs beneath layers of skin and muscle. For her part, Misa did an excellent job of not recoiling violently as she so obviously wanted to.

Her arms were akimbo for a moment. Then, Misa placed her much smaller hand over his, holding on to stymy any potential brusqueness on his part.

He didn’t apply any pressure or make a grab for her. Ryuk skimmed, content with just being able to touch her for the time being. His hand traveled past her shoulder up to her neck, and soon tangled in her hair. The palm of his hand was large enough to cover the back of her head in full.

Ryuk’s shoulders straightened when Misa warily leaned into his touch, letting him cradle her head and thread her yellow locks between his spindly fingers in earnest. He didn’t say anything when Misa closed her eyes, just marvelled at how silky her hair was and how it compared to her skin.

Humans were squishy beings, but Misa in particular was soft and smooth just about everywhere.

Ryuk hadn’t given it too much thought before then, but he liked the consistency. Touching her was nice, even more so when Misa gave him access to her willingly - well, semi-willingly.

Their audience of one sighed on the sidelines, unwilling to pretend to be a wallflower.

Light rested his head on one hand, watching the two, who, to Light’s chagrin, weren’t exactly falling in line. He knew that Misa was a magnet for shinigami, but seeing Ryuk be so gentle with her upset Light’s stomach. The man supposed that it was his own fault, hoping that Ryuk might lose the few brain cells he had and break Misa as soon as he got to her.

Then again, that reluctance only solidified proof that Ryuk was able to be manipulated where Misa was concerned.

“You do know what sex is, right Ryuk?” Light spoke up again, impatient. “Or do we need to give you the talk?”

Ryuk scoffed, mood souring somewhat.

“You don’t have to be so nosy, ya know?” He snapped, pushing aside the irony of his own words.

Misa looked toward Light each time he spoke, and Ryuk found that to be a contributing factor to his own ire. He felt like complaining over her lack of enthusiasm as well… maybe that was overdoing it in terms of ignoring irony, though.

The shinigami eyed the shorts around her waist and the bra on her chest. Given his purpose in life, Ryuk possessed a wealth of patience compared to your average human, but considered that he might be on a time limit.

The tentative exploration ended as soon as it began, and without another word Ryuk yanked at her shorts with his free hand.

“Hey!” Misa went rigid with alarm. The shinigami silenced her by placing his mouth over hers, eagerly pulling her in until she was crushed against his bony chest.

The model began to thrash, unprepared for Ryuk’s tongue to sweep over her lips and worm its way down her throat. She took in a mouthful of him, gagging on the unbelievably long appendage. He was too rough, too clumsy, and literally tore off her brazier in his insistence to swallow her whole.

At the feeling of sharp teeth pressed against her, Misa felt fear consume her. It would be very easy for Ryuk to either choke her this way, or for his fangs to bite off her tongue and make her bleed out.

“You’re going to suffocate her, Ryuk.” Light’s voice put a pause on things.

Ryuk halted, and Misa pulled away until she was free to gasp for air. Ryuk was dismayed at first, regarding Light as a pest in a bizarre switch of roles. Yet, when he saw Misa’s skin beginning to return to a normal shade, from the bluish cast it had taken on, Ryuk felt sheepish.

“Oops.”

“It’s fine.” Light was perched on an armchair, legs crossed as he maintained the role of a passive observer. “Just keep it in mind that humans have to breathe from now on.”

Misa twisted in Ryuk’s grasp as much as she could, incredulous. “Light! Can we st -”

“AH!” She shrieked.

Ryuk didn’t wait for more information before he was at her again. She was in shock as Ryuk took one of her breasts in his mouth and swirled his tongue over her nipple. He hummed against her malleable flesh, delighting in how Misa began struggling again while simultaneously mewling.

Ryuk hadn’t spent a lot of time watching humans engaging in sexual activity -- if he saw it, it was usually by accident and normally just tickled his funny bone.

Her hands had moved from his arms to his shoulders, and now she was digging her manicured nails into the back of his neck, either to keep stable or to throw him off.

If her intention was to ward him away, Misa was failing spectacularly. The feeling of being clawed wracked Ryuk’s body with tremors, encouraging him to return the favor by marking her back with his talons.

He’d seen humans going at it before, in all kinds of ways and in all kinds of places, but was surprised by how much he was enjoying it.

Still suckling, the death god finally managed to take off her shorts with minimal damage. Misa was completely bare by the time Ryuk let go of one breast to suck greedily at the other, his shark-like teeth grazing her areola.

Misa was jarred forward, feeling like an unwitting passenger on the world’s worst rollercoaster while being pulled, prodded and wrenched to the shinigami’s liking. His talons were scraping over every bit of skin that he could reach, from her upper back down to her ass, which he kneaded with bruising enthusiasm.

Ryuk let go, drool pouring down his chin as he gave her a hooded stare.

“Yum.” He said huskily.

Misa flushed as a sharp, gleaming grin stretched the corners of Ryuk’s mouth. His typical laugh was muffled while he moved in for another slobbery kiss. With the return of his overly-long tongue, Misa clamped down on it with her blunt teeth in an effort to stop the assault. She jumped when all it did was change Ryuk’s sniggering into a groan, provoking a twinge of heat in her lower belly.

The second Kira whimpered, losing her will to continue fighting. In the background, Kira himself smirked as her conviction visibly dwindled.

#ryuk #misa amane #death note #part 2 #of 3 #light yagami

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albatris · 5 years ago

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Hey hello I sent in an anon about starting tarot a while ago (I do not know when I know it was post quarantine starting but...time is wild) and i was wondering if you answered it? This isn't at all me trying to pressure you please please don't read it that way, i totally get it if you didn't! I just know that tumblr's search function is very broke and I'm scared I missed your answer, which would be sad. (I hope this doesn't sound like a bother it's genuinely all good if not I'm just checking!)

YES oh my gosh holy shit hello hi yes hi anon my dear I did in fact completely fucking forget to actually answer your original ask I am so sorry lmao

thank you for reminding me ajhdfgjhsdfg and again I’m so sorry it took me forever anyway I’m gonna just uhhhh look up your original ask real quick

OKAY so resources and starting decks! there are lots and lots of people who know more than me so I feel a little unqualified to answer this but I can tell you my thoughts?? but I definitely recommend looking into what other folks have to say on starting out, I’m sure there are lots of different opinions and ideas! :D

also sorry, it’s me you’re asking, so you’re not gonna get nice neat dot points and I’m not great at being concise, I’m just going to ramble if that’s ok, very sorry, very sorry

under the cut rambles

so........................

for learning meanings........ it’s a lot of work, there’s a lot of detail and a lot of different things to think about during readings, I’ve been learning tarot for around seven years on and off and I still don’t remember everything!

so IMO it’s best not to come at tarot with the intent to Learn Everything before you start! it’s the perfect thing to learn as you go! my advice would be to just kinda throw yourself in. when you first get a deck, go through the cards and vibe with them some and look at their meanings, but mostly just kinda contemplate them, don’t try to memorise everything at once. start doing readings, look stuff up as you go............. I would recommend keeping a journal where you document your readings............ which will help you with memory and picking up on patterns and connections....... uhhhh

I really like using apps as a companion as well! they can be a super good resource even if you don’t want to use them FOR readings necessarily

I use Galaxy Tarot as a convenient way to look up meanings and summaries of the cards when I just need to kinda jog my memory (though the descriptions aren’t super detailed), and it has a function where you can either do a reading with the app or you can do a reading yourself and then plug the cards you’ve drawn into the app, and it can help you with pointing out recurring themes and symbols and connections between the cards, which can be handy when you’re first starting out and maybe feel a little overwhelmed by the Amount Of Information you’re trying to take in

uhhhh another one I’ve used in the past is Labyrinthos Tarot, which is an app to help you learn and memorise the cards and their meanings., from what I can remember there are sorta, games and exercises to help with it, I forget exactly how it works since it’s been a while since I used it! but maybe that’s a good one to check out too?

I feel like apps is something i should’ve mentioned at the end but anyway moving on to the rest of it

most decks will come with a guidebook of some sort! so you’ve got the traditional rider waite tarot deck (which is probably the default deck most people think of when they think of tarot), and there are plenty of resources online such as Biddy Tarot which can give you a fairly detailed rundown of the card meanings! these meanings can be applied to variations of the rider waite cards, but lots of decks are a little wild and a little funky and are off doing their own thing while still following the basic rider waite structure, and if you receive a guidebook with a deck, that’s definitely an invaluable resource!! ‘cause it’ll give you the artist’s kinda interpretation and their meanings, their own personal touch, even if you then look up the card in more detail online

ALSO tarot is just a whole fuckin tonne about intuition as well though! so as much as it can feel like something where you need to focus on all the details and try and keep them all rigid and by-the-book, you might do a reading and feel yourself drawn in a certain different direction or just get a “feeling”, so you should definitely be open and flexible and listen to what your gut tells you as far as meanings go! plus, you will develop your own relationship to the cards and maybe draw your own personal meanings and associations! that’s definitely not something to fight against and don’t worry about whether that means you’re doing it “wrong” - you should listen to those feelings, those r important!! :D

lastly I will say, it can be helpful to have someone who is more experienced with tarot around who you feel you can ask for advice from or get second opinions from if there’s something you’re confused about! or who can give you tips and tricks from firsthand experience. like, it doesn’t have to be something you learn alone, and having a teacher or companion can be really helpful in terms of bouncing ideas and getting new perspectives! I throw this out there because I always forget to say things like this, ‘cause I forget that other people Are Not Me and other people like being around people lmao rip

and as far as starting decks go........... it really depends so much on what you want and what’s important to you! some people will say start with the traditional rider waite tarot, and if you decide to do that, you will certainly have a lot of resources at your disposal! it’s a valid place to start for sure

but there’s also SO many different decks out there with all sorts of themes and art and personality, and IMO......... I’d kinda urge you in the direction of choosing something you’re personally interested in and engaged with! it can make connecting with a deck easier and can help you stay interested and engaged during learning! but that’s just me

when I got my first deck the lady in the store kinda just took me to the collection of decks and just asked me which ones I vibed with and which one kinda called out to me or one I was drawn to, then she let me take a look at some of them and she showed me how to handle them and use them!! this was my first experience, n I was told just to go with what Feels Good And Right

n there’s so much cool art out there! and many interesting themes! you might not know which one you’ll latch onto until you see it, so take some time to look around and see what speaks to you c:

for instance, certain themes like cats or flowers, certain art styles, maybe certain series you’re into (I have two welcome to night vale decks n the raven’s prophecy by maggie stiefvater), or queer friendly decks! I have the Numinous Tarot which I ADORE, which is a deck with gorgeous artwork and extremely queer, all gender neutral language and lots of diverse designs, etc

so it depends what you’re into! take some time to feel it out, my friend

I would also like to throw out a mention to oracle decks as well! I actually started with oracle decks long before I used any tarot decks c:

I am................... very tired. and blanking on the best way to explain the difference between oracle and tarot decks, but you can look into this if you’re interested! lots of people use both or use them in conjunction with each other and there’s benefits to both n so on and so forth........

but in terms of Starting Out, and getting comfy with doing readings? they can also be really helpful in this regard! I found since oracle decks can have any number of cards and are less “structured” than tarot decks in a way, it can be really helpful as a way to get comfortable with things if you find, just, the Amount Of Detail that is involved in tarot decks overwhelming!!

it was something that helped me get the ~feel~ of doing readings and sensing with the cards and vibin and such, n get some practice drawing connections between cards and deriving meanings from the stories the cards present! but in a way that’s not quite as...... overwhelming?? as traditional tarot decks?? I was SUPER intimidated by just how extensive tarot decks were when I first started and I thought I’d never figure out what I was doing HAHAHA

but again, it’s just practice, I think!

where tarot will follow the same 78 cards and structure and is very traditional and I guess “rigid” is not exactly the right word?? but yeah?? oracle decks are a lot more flexible in what they represent and a lot more loose in the structures they can take

I do love oracle decks because of how varied they are!! each one is its own little system and its own unique universe and it’s really quite lovely, even if you aren’t into Actually Doing Readings with them, y’know?

but then, I find tarot decks the same way, what will all the different art styles and different people’s interpretations and renditions of the same story, like, it’s really fascinating!!

this has just turned into me rambling about how cool they are now

point is, do a little research into what sorts of decks and themes you might like to buy, when you get a chance I thoroughly recommend visiting a store so you can speak to someone who has some experience with tarot decks, they can help guide you when it comes to picking one and giving you some tips!! remember that it’s about intuition and following your gut as much as it is about memory and precision, so you should pick a deck that Feels Right

and uhhhhhhhhhhh

just kinda throw yourself in!! that’s literally my best advice!! you’re never gonna memorise everything beforehand (I’ve been learning on and off for seven years and I still often have to consult guidebooks and webpages) but you WILL absolutely learn as you go

it might feel very clumsy starting out, but as with any craft, you will improve with practice and begin to feel more comfy and confident with it as you go!

I hope this helped out some!! maybe!! possibly!!!!! ok goodnight!!!

#Anonymous #important caveat is that ive kinda just #been vibin on my own for most of my learning so i feel like #maybe there will be things i do that are not necessarily the ''right'' way or the common way or i might be #a little inexperienced and all #but i think it's also very personal and you'll find a way of doing things that works for u #in other words I Have No Idea If I Sound Like A Complete Dumbass when i talk about tarot #HAHAHAHA #anyway ok i hope this maybe gave you........ something...........? to work with #again i am so sorry i dont know how to be concise honestly i could have probably explained this in like #3 paragraphs #i can only hope u were aware of my rambling tendencies before u sent this and knew what u were in for lmaoo

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