#but also even with this i struggled to answer concisely and i am sorry for that. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whosjunglejim4322 · 4 years ago

Text

Umbra | J. Seo (m)

》 Genre: vampire au! Smut, fluff, minor angst and mentions of violence, This story also features Yuta, Taeyong, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Doyoung and Mark as his coven members

》 Warnings: spitting, dry humping, mentions of blood obvi, mentions of feeding, strong boy trying not to fuck you into oblivion, his eyes get black he's when he's hungry/horny, disgusting amount of fluff, omg sorta strength kink? Johnny is very in love w you and very protective cause some of his brothers are out of pocket, Jungwoo wants to b ur bestie lowkey, Yuta is a lil shit

Chapter 2

There are many things that Johnny loves about you. He could spend all his time showering you with professions of his adoration, and he'd never grow tired of it. Though, his concept of time and yours are slightly different.

He's patient, excessively so sometimes, in your humble opinion. But, he also never expected in his three hundred and forty five years of existence, to find someone who manages to warm his cold and stagnant heart in the way you have.

Now, anytime away from you is a bit bothersome.

It's just, he never knew humans like you existed. In his world, there are either those who lust after his kind and the benefits in which their heightened senses and skills provide, or those who see him as a complete moral abomination.

Even now, in a society that has to live in conjunction with vampires, there are still so many people who fear him. Well, they fear what they think he is. A creature of the night, a demon, something that is only greedy for strife and nothing more.

You were the first person who genuinely throttled him, curious and wide eyed, completely fascinated by him. And not in a way that made him feel like he was under a microscope, but in a way that made him feel as though he was something...to be admired.

Your heartbeat, even after a year, still flutters like the wings of dragonfly whenever he displays his strength; swinging you up into his arms like you're made of feathers and all things delicate.

At first, he thought you were scared, weary, perhaps, about his abnormalities. He couldn't find any other explanation for the way you seemed to shrink in his presence whenever he'd dip his head below your chin to grace your throat with his lips, cooling your hot skin.

It didn't make sense. Not until he realized there is a direct correlation to your change and scent, and these moments in which he can be himself around you.

You like it. You like that he's different, a complete opposite to what you'd find in the common world. If he thought he could be any more enamored, anymore breathless than he was before (no pun intended) he was wrong.

Even now, with you lying with your back against his hard chest, playing with his slim fingers, your voice is nothing but earnest. Curious, in your own little world that consists of just you and him.

He thinks, no he knows, that if he had a pulse it would be racing every time he's around you. Every time you ask him a question that would normally repulse anyone else, even when you place his cool palm against your blazing cheek, giddy about the difference in temperature. He can tell that you just want to know more about him, about how he exists in the world. He simply can't resist indulging you.

"So...everyone doesn't taste the same? I always just assumed that blood is, well, blood." He smiles to himself as you trace shapes into his palm, before flipping his hand over and grazing your fingertips over his protruding knuckles.

The feeling of your skin against his is so pleasant he almost gets distracted.

"Well, it depends, really," his free hand strokes up and down your arms, savoring the softness. "sometimes the difference is slight, like someone who's A or B negative, but other times it can be quite stark. It's about chemistry really."

He can already see your expression in his head, furrowed brows, lips pursed in a manner too cute for your own good. He absentmindedly pushes you further against his chest, reclining slightly against the pillows as to make it more comfortable for you. You hum in satisfaction.

"Chemistry? Like how you feel about the person?" He can't quite pinpoint what is laced within the lilt of your voice, he answers nonetheless, chuckling warmly.

The sound is like pure velvet, causing your skin to tingle. You shiver, and he pulls your blanket over you, worried his lack of body heat may be disturbing your comfort. He doesn't realize how wrong he is.

"It's more like, how that person has lived. Their natural...how do I say...essence? Yes, their essence sometimes can determine how desirable some ones blood is to us."

He doesn't miss the way your heartbeat falters in rythm. He grins, as you take both of his hands in yours and intertwine your fingers. He twists his wrist and brings your knuckles up to his lips, kissing your skin.

You shift underneath the covers, suddenly thankful for his cool temperature. You know that most of the vampires that exist in society use blood bags from the banks provided, but you still wonder...

"Am I...am I desirable to you? Like, my blood, or whatever." You wish you could say you usually aren't so bad at speaking when you're around him, but that would be a blatant lie.

It's the most endearing thing he's ever witnessed.

His hands are gone from yours and elsewhere in the blink of an eye, one strong arm locked around your torso as his free hand reaches down to cup your chin. He turns and lifts your head towards him, gently, and the look in his eyes has your breath stalling momentarily.

"Of course you are, silly," he says it as if it's the most obvious thing ever, leaning down to peck your nose. Butterflies swarm violently in your belly. "I desire you in every way there is to desire someone, it makes me want to keep you all to myself. No one else should be allowed to even think about you, or your blood, in that way."

He looks lost in thought for a second, pupils almost darkening the whole of his irises, before he seemingly brings himself out of his daze. You turn in his hold, adjusting your position so that you're practically lying on top of him, chests touching and your legs cradled between his hips. He holds you effortlessly in his arms.

"Well it wouldn't matter anyways, cause I'm all yours." His pearly teeth show from behind the pillowy surface of his lips, as he leans in to kiss you in a manner that has you reaching out to wrap your hand around the nape of his neck.

"Mhm, all mine." He murmurs, nose nudging against yours as he shifts back and forth from your top lip, and then your bottom, tongue exploring the surface of each.

Kissing you, is another experience entirely for him. He wonders if it feels for you as it does for him, like pure intoxication. It brings back memories, memories he didn't think could still be reachable in the depths of his mind.

A time where he was warm, where life thrummed through his veins like the rushing current of a river. You are springtime on his tongue, the rays of sunlight that once heated his skin, the smell of flora in the air that mingles with the fleeting breeze.

He almost whines when you depart from his mouth, yearning already heavy in the pit of his stomach.

You look almost nervous, suddenly finicking with the front of his shirt as you sit back on his lap. He can hear the acceleration of your heartbeat, can smell the anxiety that is almost as heady as your desire.

He reaches out to cup your cheek, something he often does as a comforting gesture. You smile softly, meeting his curious, tepid gaze.

"So...I have a question," your voice shakes and you huff. "I mean, I was just wondering," he senses your struggle, wrapping his arms around you and sitting up so that your chests are nearly touching again, his palms splayed against your lower back.

"You can ask me anything, sweetheart. You know that." His voice, as sweet as honey, calms your racing pulse for a moment. Until you actually say the words out loud, wincing as if preparing for a scolding.

"Well I know you have a family, of sorts, from what you've told me. And I know you've always been really...hesitant to tell me more about them? I mean I've never been over, to your home or met them,"

Understanding washes over him, hands rubbing your back soothingly as the glint in his irises provokes an odd sensation within your belly. Like he knew this conversation would have to be had one day.

He lets you finish speaking, though your voice has even more of a tremor than before, now.

"Sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable, I understand if you don't want me over there."

Urgency calcifies in his chest, the sad lilt to your soft voice making him feel ill. The way you say it is as if you think he doesn't want you in his space, like he's keeping you away from there because of something other than rational reasoning, doesn't sit right with him.

He cups your jaw, firmly but gently.

"I want you with me as much as possible, never think that I don't want you. That is not at all why I haven't brought you over there," You have no choice but to believe him, when he's looking at you with such a passionate gaze far heavier than what you're used to in a normal setting, his words concise.

"I am...well I'm old, and so are they. I've spent a long time being alienated, far before we were even accepted in the new world. We've settled here since before you were born, so you won't remember what it was like when people were forced to live along side us."

You hate hearing the unusual grain of what seems to be dejection in his tone, though you listen fervently anyways, his hands still comforting you despite the fact that his eyes are the ones cast down. You want to kiss the furrow between his dark brows.

"I've accepted who I am, furthermore I've accepted who I want to be. I realized that, it would do me no good to be a monster if people were willing, even if begrudgingly, to accept our existence. But my brothers,"

Your stomach sinks at the way he says it, knowing without a doubt that this is the answer to your original question, that his stance had to be explained before he told you something like this.

"they don't feel the same way as me, so they are stuck in their ways beyond coercion. They live very different lives, they are what our kind refer to as nightcrawlers, it's sardonic inside joke for those of us that would rather not conform to the new age of mutual concurrency."

"They are still a bit resentful for the fact that they can't exactly give in to their natural instincts. They don't see the humans acceptance as welcoming, they see it as a mockery. Do you see where I'm coming from?"

You look a bit out of it, like maybe you're frightened and he's suddenly worried he's gone overboard, that he's scared you in a way that can't be fixed. His eyes are suddenly frantic.

But then you speak, and you don't sound vexed, nor unsettled. Your question is simple, your thighs tightening around his waist as if to draw yourself closer to his comfort, arms looping around his shoulders.

"Do they all feel that way?"

He smiles, muscles untensing as you play with his hair in the way you usually do. Your eyes never leave his, and he wonders how he got so lucky.

"The youngest, well the youngest in our years, they're a bit less malicious about it. They don't cross anyone unless someone crosses them, but they can be excessively territorial because of their youth."

The tension, despite talking about a topic so heavy, is light again. You feel a bit silly now, understanding why he might not want you in close proximity with his coven.

But, still, knowing that there are people, for lack of better term, that have been in his life unimaginably long; a completely different, solidified version of a family, it makes you more nosey than usual. Could they really be that different from him?

"And...you're sure that if I were to meet them, it would end badly?" His eyebrow twitches in an inquisitive manner, surprise coloring his sharp features.

"I- well I thought you were just curious, I didn't think you'd actually want to meet them. Especially after all of that,"

It's as if he's speaking to himself out loud, his pink tongue flicking out to wet his lips. You resist the urge to kiss him so suddenly.

"but I don't suppose so. It's already established that you're mine. If there's one rule we follow, it's that. They know how I feel about you, despite our differences."

The sturdiness to his voice when he speaks of you being his, has your belly filling with heat at an irrational rate, and you suddenly remember how it felt to see him before you actually got to know him.

He's incredibly intimidating on the surface, firm and stoic. You can't see how anyone would want to anger him.

"So then I'd be safe, meeting them. And I'd get to see if you guys really have furniture."

Despite not needing to, he swallows. It's hard impossible to say no to you, when you look at him like that and sound so genuinely interested at a prospect that would make any other person run for the hills, even cracking jokes.

You're soft, and too innocent for your own good. He should say no, but to risk seeing a pout form on your soft lips, or having to hear the disappointment in your voice, it's unbearable.

"You really want to meet them, don't you?" He can't fight his smile when your face lights up like that.

"Well, I think it's important. They're your family, one way or another." You're gentle when you speak, honest.

"You're safe with me, you have to know that. But they're...not used to being around humans that aren't just accessories. The last thing I want is for one of them to say something that makes you uncomfortable."

It's evident in the low timbre of his tone that he's serious, and any smart person might listen. But as he said, and as you believe wholeheartedly, you're safe with him. Safer than you'd ever be.

And, as wrong as it may be, you want to see what other vampires are like. You're really only used to Johnny, the exception, where as most modern vampires only come out when absolutely necessary. Meeting him, and falling in love with him, has given you a brand new sight towards the world. Is it that insane to want to meet his brothers that have been so close to him for so long?

"I'll be with you, so it won't matter. I'll bet they're not even that scary, no ones scarier than you."

Your triumphant, playful smile has him grinning from ear to ear, leaning down to capture your lips between his own. Even though you're wrong about them, he's weak. Too weak.

"Yeah? Afraid I'll eat you for breakfast?" His breath is suddenly against your earlobe and you shudder pleasantly, grasping onto his shoulders before regaining some sort of composure.

"I'm definitely dinner, breakfast is really overrated. Unless it's breakfast for dinner, that's way better for some reason?"

He's kissing you again, despite the fact that he's smiling too hard for his own good, swiftly flipping you over so that you're caged underneath his body. His weight is barely perceptible even with your chests touching, forearms holding himself up.

"You'll be the death of me, you know that?" He has a hard time speaking without strain due to the way his throat has suddenly tightened with need, your legs wrapping around his trim torso and pushing his hips further against yours.

"Not possible, unless I've suddenly charmed your heart into beating again." You tease, though his eyebrows remain furrowed in concentration as he kisses you between words, dangerously sensual. You smell too divine.

"Very possible, actually. If you only knew how you make me feel."

Your belly lurches at the desperation that flows from him, his aura downright fever inducing. Without thinking, your crotch nudges his, bucking with the slightest of movements. But it's enough, enough to have his jaw clenching and a habitual breath of restraint leaving his nose.

Five fingers grasp your chin, so he can kiss you, hard. His hips begin to roll as his teeth nibble your bottom lip, the fabric of his jeans an arousing juxtaposition to your soft lounge shorts, your lack of underwear making it all the more satisfying.

He's hard, too. Knowing his dick is just underneath, hard for you, it'll never not give you whiplash. It gets you drunk, knowing your effect on him is as overwhelming as his on you. You're whimpering against his tongue, rubbing yourself on his bulge.

"Mmm, fuck." He growls, capturing your wrists in his palms before your next breath, raising them above your head and making sure they're comfortable against the pillows.

He's inches away from your face now, and his expression alone is enough to have your walls pulsing around nothing, desire seeping into your chest and hardening your nipples, goosebumps forming across your skin.

He looks at you like he's hungry, nostrils flaring avariciously. He tries so very hard to fight the darkness that fills his sclera like ink, knowing how very monstrous and unlike himself it makes him appear.

But he hears the way it makes your heart race. He can practically taste the thrill that seeps from your pores, the unbridled arousal that drips from your cunt like syrup. Your neck cranes upwards to try and reach his lips, and he smirks before meeting you halfway.

"Do you want me to keep rubbing your pussy like this," he looks down between your bodies and purposely rolls his hips in an accentuated fashion. "or do you want my dick?"

His voice is brusque, but caring and accommodating as it always is, his plump lips quivering slightly from the way his mouth waters.

"Can I have your dick, please?" You return, his mouth quirking up into a sideways grin.

"Such good manners," he kisses you again, sloppily, the sounds lewd and causing you to shiver against his unwavering body. "how could I ever deny you?"

You blink, and cool air is breezing against your wet slit, the nakedness sending a wave of tingles through your nerve endings. Before you can look down, you feel his cock against your clit, smooth and rounded tip gathering wetness from your hole before circling it over your clit.

He uses one hand to keep your legs parted for his viewing, fingers softly gripping your flesh as he sits back on his haunches. You feel impatience crawling up your throat, toes already curling as your bud throbs and your walls ache.

He's so pretty, he is raven hair against olive skin, an onyx sky against shimmering stars. Your hands reach out for his hips, delicate but fierce in their strength. He rubs his shaft against your folds, before prodding at your entrance.

He always watches your expression when he first slides in, the way your mouth falls open and you are suddenly this beautiful, agonizingly worked up thing. He bites down on his bottom lip as his eyes flicker from your pussy, lovlier than a flower and welcoming him with a squeeze, to your face.

Your eyes are bleary as they stare back up at him, your breathing already erratic. His lip curls with the need to hiss, to ravage you. But he takes it slow, he loves watching you fall apart too much. And you're so wet around him, moaning his name like it's the only word you know.

"Johnnyyyy, oh - umph." He rocks into, gracefully and with a deliberate curl. You claw at the front of his tee shirt, pulling him down to your face.

He eagerly obliges, meeting your lips with a soft smack, the angle only pushing him deeper within your body. His pace has increased, the front of his thighs colliding with the back of yours. His mouth somehow remains steady, as if he's not fucking you like he is.

He's parting from you sooner than you'd like, but you know he likes to fuck you like this, able to see all of you and savor it. It's still the most incredible thing he'll ever witness or experience, he's sure of it.

He can't believe a creature like him could be so lucky, here with his manhood buried to the hilt inside of someone so breathtaking, so innately divine. Your essence is thick and wet, coating his shaft each time he pulls out.

"Such a pretty pussy, so fuckin' pretty baby." His voice is gruff, nose twitching and eyes black. You wrap your fingers around his strong, sturdy forearms as his hands grip the softness of your waist. His lips purse and a string of spit dribbles down your clit.

"Ungh, oh my- ohhhhh Johnny please please." You're not sure what your begging for, and it doesn't matter. Because he'll give you whatever it is you need before you know you need it, already hooking your legs over his broad shoulders, gripping your jaw and pushing it up so that he can mouth at your sensitive neck.

"Mmm, I got you baby, I'm right here," he takes your earlobe in his mouth before marking your throat, licking and sucking. "I can already feel your belly tensing sweetheart, gonna make a mess for me?"

All you can do is nod, eyes squeezed shut and hands exploring his firm abdomen while he pushes himself all the way into you; rocking his hips back and forth to make sure the tip of his cock is rubbing that sweet spot inside of you. Your clit is being stimulated in the process, and you know you're not going to last long.

He knows it too, and his thumb is suddenly on your swelling bud, rubbing you in circles faster than you can comprehend, but with just enough pressure to have your nails digging into his back with fervor. Having unbreakable skin must be a plus, in his case.

You're tensing more now, twitching even. Your energy is buzzing around him, electric. Your heart pounds like a drum, rattling against your ribcage and causing blood to thrum viciously throughout your veins. His thrusts become a bit more frantic, his senses completely overcome with you.

He's so lost in his own pleasure he doesn't even hear you cum. He feels you go limp underneath him, back arching off the bed and your walls spasming around his cock.

He realizes now that you're trying to shove your face in the pillows, a silent sob ripping through your body. He's pulling you to him, and you're suddenly in his lap, as he comforts you with a soothing coo.

When you move your face from the crook of his neck and he's met with your teary eyes and damp skin, he's thrown off the edge.

Your forehead is against his as he bites back a snarl of sorts, pumping into you from below with as much restraint as he can muster as to not overwhelm you since you've just cum as well.

He has to move his hands away from you for a quick second, opting for the bed sheets instead while you cling onto him and kiss his cheeks, his jaw, his neck. He feels selfish, but he also doesn't want to crush your hip bones in such a state.

Your breathing is still uneven, even after several minutes and once he's sure that he's in his right frame of mind, his arms are around you again.

Your body is sweetly ravaged by his mouth, lips leaving a wet trail over too much skin in such a short amount of time. You're still sensitive, wincing as his enthusiasm causes you to shift on his lap.

"Oh." He uses one arm to wrap around your middle, slowly pulling you off of his dick and lying you down against the comforter.

You whine at the loss of contact as he disappears, returning in a blur with a warm, damp cloth. He's in between your legs, wiping away your shared mess and muttering soft sorrys when he's just a smidge too rough. You're still embarrassed by his need to take care of you like this, bashfully looking away.

You don't realize he's gone and returned until the covers are being thrown over your body, his arms securing you to his solid chest and his lips against your ear.

"You need sleep, don't argue." He kisses the back of your head and you smile to yourself, snuggling further against his figure. You feel like you're being warmed from the inside out, despite how cool his skin is against yours.

"M'not gonna argue, you made me tired," The thump of your pulse and the shy lilt to your voice satisfies him, and he wishes that he could make love to you all over again.

"When will you take me to go meet the others?" Your speech is already slightly slurred with sleep, a yawn following. He sighs, kissing behind your ear.

"Give me until tomorrow night, I need to discuss a few things. Then we'll go, I promise."

He wishes that this could be a more exciting prospect for him, that in the back of his mind he weren't, for the first time in a long time, genuinely worried about how his brothers might react.

It's got nothing to do with his capability. Without question he will keep you safe, his strength is comparable to the eldest and he'd forge fire if it meant having you whole and in his arms.

But his coven, they're different than what he knows you're expecting. He knows that because of primal, and ancestral rules that they will not lay a hand on you.

If he's honest, it's more so what might come out of their mouths that worries him. He can't have them slip up and say something they're not supposed. It'll kill him if there's even one crease of worry or sadness etched onto your pretty face. He won't allow it.

But if it's important to you, it's important to him. You're here, asleep in his arms, and he's certain that if he had a soul, he would trade it if it meant another lifetime of your existence.

•

Johnny isn't next to you when you wake up, which isn't a particularly uncommon occurrence. It's just that normally he'd let you know beforehand, even shaking you awake sometimes just to mumble a be back soon in your ear, despite the fact that you're half asleep.

You reach over to your bedside table to grab your phone, clicking it on and feeling a bit less tense realizing he's left you a message. You smile.

Sorry I had to leave so early, sweetheart. I'm speaking with my brothers and getting some things taken care of. Don't worry. I love you and I'll see you soon. xx

He must be serious, about the way they behave. It's not that you don't believe him, you'd just rather see the positives, in whatever way you can. It's a little bit startling to think about today, if you're honest. Especially after such an all consuming night, the sun now too bright in your eyes, the scent of Johnny still on your sheets and clothes.

You feel anything but dark and dreary when you think of him. That's not to say he's not quite scary if you don't know him. Broad and towering, gaze low and piercing in a way that'll have you looking away nervously if he were to make eye contact with you.

But you can't imagine him as anything but what he is, beautiful and lively and kind, soft around the cold hard edges.

You stretch as you rise from your bed, joints popping as you pull yourself onto your feet. You wince slightly, realizing between your thighs is still fairly sore, ghosts of his touch lingering on your heated skin.

You and Johnny don't have sex incredibly often, at least not by normal human couple standards. It's pretty obvious why. His ability to control his strength, his desire, his thirst; in that state, as he has explained, it leaves him a little bit frayed.

It's not like you're not satisfied anyways, he's more than generous with his mouth and fingers, and despite the fact that he holds nearly half of his full vigor back when the two of you are intimate, it's still a little bit throttling for you afterwards.

The day is boring without him, quite frankly, but despite whatever you may think about it, you still respect his decision to plan ahead for your visit.

You do get it, it's not that. If anything, you just feel too safe with him. To the point where you sometimes feel invincible in his arms.

It almost makes up for the fact that you don't get to show him off as much as you'd like, as silly as it sounds. His kind can go out in the sun, but it's a bit bothersome after a while from what you've heard. He is almost a cliché in that department, most days either spent with him in doors or at night.

Sometimes, though, you wonder what it would be like if he were human. It wouldn't make a difference, you're sure of that, because he'll always be your Johnny. But the thought does venture into your mind every now and then, because of the way he speaks of his humanhood. As if he's trying not to admit how much he misses it.

You often wonder what he must have looked like when he could blush, with his vibrant smile on show, and dimples high on his soft cheeks.

A small, selfish part of you envies the people who might have gotten to witness him like that. Warm, a little uncoordinated maybe, eyes topaz in the sun. He must have been a sight to behold, throughout his human life.

Deep down, a part of you knows that, that is what this whole thing with his brothers boils down to. You're not just curious, you're madly in love with him. So much so that when he's away, it does feel uncomfortable. You never believed people when they spoke of love that way, you always thought it to be quite gross, actually.

And maybe you're just a silly little human with silly little feelings, to be so smitten after a year. But there's no going back now, he's a part of you, so of course you think about how much of him you've never gotten to see. Of course you want to meet any tangible part of his incomprehensible life, his family. Even if it's not conventional.

It leaves an odd pit in your stomach, thinking of him young and youthful, thinking of his mother and father and the life that they had created so many lifetimes ago.

You think of him at eighteen, maybe still plush in some areas not yet tainted by the work of adulthood. Had he ever been in love, back then? You swallow back the irrational bitterness you suddenly taste.

You think of him at twenty, and what he might have been passionate about. What life was even like for him. You think of his first kiss, and him at twenty four, a year before his life as what he is now, began.

Truthfully, you don't know a lot about him. It's a strange, sudden realization, but it's just never really mattered in all honesty. Because you know him, how he is now, which is all you'll ever get and is more than what you could've ever asked for.

You've always felt like it's different because his existence in itself has been so tremulous, and in a lot of ways very hard to talk about without it getting uncomfortable because of all that he has lost, or subsequently reminding him of what he is.

Never things he'd admit out loud, but definitely something you've picked up on in his expression or the wistfulness in his voice. It doesn't matter, to you; the bad parts. He's yours, and somehow you two have found each other despite so many centuries vouching on never having met one another at all. You wish you could truly express to him how nothing would ever stray you away.

You've showered and eaten an inadequate dinner by the time Johnny shows up, presence barely perceptible until he's wrapping his strong arms around you from behind.

You're used to it by now, not even flinching anymore. You melt instantaneously, placing your hands over his that are resting around your waist.

"Hi." He whispers, lips against the shell of your ear. You shiver and let out a giggle, turning in his grasp to get a kiss. He's on your lips before you even have to lift yourself on your tippy toes.

"Mm, hi." You mumble, hands cupping his jaw. You hum as he pulls you closer, spinning you so that you're pressed against the counter, his hand on the small of your back blocking you from the hard edge.

"We could stay here, you know," he smiles against your mouth, half teasing and half serious. "a change of plan never hurt anybody."

The idea is actually tempting.

"But I just showered." You pout, and his hands are rubbing your sides, eyes contemplative.

"You're right, you shouldn't go over there smelling anymore enticing than you already do, anyways." He says it with a grit of his teeth, as if the mere thought bothers him.

You're too distracted by his face to really absorb what he's saying, smiling up at him, practically beaming. Before he can quirk his brow and boop your nose with the tip of his finger, you kiss him again.

It's chaste, but it's sincere.

"You're so cute when you're all disgruntled." You state, throwing your arms around his neck. He snorts, shaking his head and licking his heart shaped lips lips out of habit.

"I'm not disgruntled, I just want this to go well." He replies, broad shoulders slumping. You unhook your arms from around him to grasp his hands, large and welcoming in yours. He intertwines your fingers.

"It will. Because I'm with you." It's simple, and undeniable. He knows that, and accepts defeat when he sees how truly bright the gleam in your eye is. You're his own little sun.

During the drive to his home, Johnny takes this time to give you some much needed insight on the creatures you’ll be meeting. He gives you their names, some key characteristics so that you won’t be startled by their behavior, but he doesn’t give you their ages. He simply refers to the one named Yuta as the oldest, and Mark as the youngest.

“Youngest and oldest in vampire years or..?” You ask, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smile at your interest. You forget to focus for a moment, tracing the planes of his side profile with your eyes.

“Yuta was my age when he was changed, but he is, in our terms, the eldest. Mark is the youngest both in the factors.” His thumb strokes the back of your knuckles where your clasped hands rest on the center console, though it doesn’t soothe all the burning questions that you’ve decided need to stay in your head, for now.

You think of mark first, something about his youth, despite the fact that he is centuries older than you, seeming a little bit less intimidating. Almost abstract, in a way. As he describes the youngest, it’s easy to picture a boyish smile, innocence. Until he throws in the fact that the ones that get changed before the brain is fully developed, tend to be the ones with more of an unsteady grasp on their more potent emotions. You can guess what that means, and he suddenly regrets ever opening his mouth.

Johnny almost debates whether or not he should turn the car around and forget about this occasion all together, growing anxious at your monotone expression and the way you are chewing the skin of your bottom lip, and not realizing you are just lost in deep thought, not perturbed or uncomfortable.

Really, you are just trying to make out what his brothers may be like. Taeyong, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Doyoung. For some reason, it’s the thought of meeting Yuta that seems the most daunting. Despite the fact that he is Johnny’s age, not technically but anyways - knowing that he has been around for so long has you wondering how a person like that even thinks.

Maybe you should've listened to your boyfriend. No, you're brave. But sometimes you are not very smart.

You are pulled for your reverie of sorts when your surroundings become darker, gloomier in the way that the trees seem to shield the road ahead from the sun, forming a canopy from above and casting misshapen shadows across the ground.

You don’t realize you’re clutching his hand tighter until Johnny turns to look at you with worried eyes, all the stars and every wish that he could ever grant you swirling in his chocolate irises.

“Are you alright? We can turn around and-”

You shake your head in defiance, determined. You aren’t going to back out now, not when you can already see the house from around the bend, pillars high and spiraling, a wide balcony peeking out from behind the trees.

“I’m perfectly fine, promise.” you give him a soft, reassuring smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes but he knows you’ll likely scowl at him if he keeps insisting on your indifference, so he takes the car just a little bit further, rounding a bend and stalling before cutting the engine.

The house is a lot more grand that you’d previously expected, the outside still kempt but not as pristine. Mostly, you thought that it would offensive to coin their home as something dark and menacing, not wanting to contribute to the cliché. But, it does in fact feel as though you are walking into a lair.

It’s beauty is undeniable, though, despite the lack of real warmth that it exudes. Upon entering, wide open space greets you, black marble flooring underneath your boots and a staircase straddling either side of the entryway. Above it is a balcony, hanging over the foyer from the second floor.

“So I was correct, about the furniture.�� You murmur, pressed against his hard side with your arms wound around his forearm despite the fact that the house is seemingly empty. You know that it’s not, though. Any living being who walked into this house would be able to feel it, the static that seems to raise the hair on the back of your neck.

“You'll have to forgive our complacency when it comes to interior design,"

The voice seems to appear out of nowhere, melodic and smooth and echoing off of the walls in a way that makes the direction of the sound imperceptible. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see someone making their way down the left staircase, gliding more so than walking.

"So many years leave us comfortable, rather than fashionable."

Two figures float behind him, while three others descend down the opposite staircase. You could've sworn you'd only glanced at Johnny for half a second, before they suddenly materialized.

The man is suddenly right in front of you, and your eyes act as if they have no choice but to meet his, your breath stalling. It reminds you of the first time you saw Johnny, how shocking it was to be faced with such inhuman beauty.

"My name is Taeyong, it's lovely to meet you." The creature flashes a bright smile, something unreadable in his sharp eyes. His quaint lips are mischievous, or maybe you're just paranoid.

You don't have a chance to respond, already surrounded by a group that seem oddly eager to meet you despite what Johnny had warned, their gate an obvious contrast to your boyfriends.

They seem to sway effortlessly rather than stand perfectly still, their proximity closer than that of strangers. The energy around them feels unpredictable, and without thought your hand tightens around Johnny's.

"Wow, she smells good." A voice muses from the group, and you follow it to find a face that you somehow automatically know belongs to Mark. His face is youthful, eyes wide and full of glee and then a bit amused, due to what you can assume is from your boyfriend glaring at him sharply.

"No wonder he's so attached." The boy beside Mark, with dimples as deep as you've ever seen, hums to his friend.

"Please, don't be so crude, children. She is our guest." This voice is authoritative, the timbre low but the tone gentle like the stroke of a feather.

The group seems to make way for him without thought, and again, you're instantly struck with recognition simply by his presence alone.

He approaches you without caution, you blink and he's suddenly right there. His hair is longer than the others, curling around his prominent chin and framing his elegant features.

"It's a real pleasure to meet you, we've heard so much about the little human that's enamored our dear brother." You can't look away from his cunning face, his eyes are almost wild in excitement, plush lips stretching across his face to reveal a million wat smile.

He extends his hand towards you, with a bit more reserve now - and the first thing you notice are the sharp, glossy black nails that are more akin to claws, formed into stilettos at the tips of his delicate, slender fingers.

"Careful." Johnny mutters to his brother through his teeth, the man giggling in amusement as he gently takes your hand in his. You hadn't even realized you'd extended it back, his skin almost colder than Johnny's if possible.

"Tsk, so worried. For what reason? Look, I'm being as gentle as a hummingbird. Her hands are so soft."

Yuta. It's undeniable, he's too confident, bemused by this whole ordeal and even more so by the way his brother has stiffened beside you, pulling you back just a fraction of an inch.

The elder sighs wistfully, allowing your hand to drop from his. He meets your eyes once more, your skin buzzing oddly.

"My name is-"

"Yuta. I-I know, I mean I guessed."

It's the first word you've spoken to any them, and your voice is shakier than you'd like, throat dry. The mans lips twitch into a grin, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he clasps his hands together in a stunned manner.

"Wow, perceptive you are. So sure, despite appearing so meek."

You can't decipher his tone, worried that maybe you've messed up by interrupting him. He seems a bit perplexed, in a curious way. You're grateful for a new voice introducing themselves, directing your attention elsewhere.

"I'm Jungwoo," His voice is the most welcoming. "your skin is so pretty. Is that weird to say?" He mutters the last part to the slender, inquisitive man beside him, who's features are similar to that of a feline. He seems indifferent.

But, for the first time since you've arrived, you smile, an odd sense of relief flooding through your nervous system. You feel Johnny relax as well, and you glance up at him for just a moment, to see him already looking down at you.

"It's nice to meet you, Jungwoo," The jubilent vampire flashes you a smile. "all of you, really. Thankyou for welcoming me into your home."

"Of course, doll. Should we give her a tour?" Yuta speaks and Johnny responds almost a heartbeat after the elders suggestion.

"I can do that, give her some space." His voice is polite but firm, and Yuta giggles again, while the others back up a bit. Johnny readjusts his grip on your hand and begins moving towards the right staircase, turning his head to send the rest a look you can't see.

He leads you down the left corridor into a massive hallway, the walls a deep shade of plum, floors white marble instead of black like the ones downstairs.

Once you're out of view from the rest, he stills, turning towards you and rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

"I'm sorry about that, really." His eyes are apologetic and you snort, embracing his middle and kissing his chin.

"Sorry for what? I'm fine, they were fine."

He lets out a sigh, broad shoulders slumping as he does so. He believes you enough to not keep on, pressing his lips to your forehead before continuing his non informative tour.

"I wish they'd keep at least some of their thoughts to themselves," you're turning, brought down another lengthy hall with a massive picture window framing the north wall. Heavy burgundy curtains keep the sun from shining through the glass.

To the left is another set of stairs, small in comparison to the ones you've seen so far, framed with elegant railing. "this is my room, up here." He points to the door that sits right at the top of them, lonesome and heavy looking.

Your heartbeat is suddenly loud in your own ears, excitement bubbling in your belly at the prospect of being in a space that belongs to him. He senses this, and smiles to himself as he wraps his fingers around the doorknob and pushes it open.

Everything about his room is inherently Johnny. It's simple, but so very him.

The atmosphere is completely different to what the rest of the house provokes, the floors a deep cherry red, hardwood. A round, red rug sits in the middle of the room, a leather sectional nestled in the corner to the right. Beside it hangs rows of shelves with a multitude of books, more than you'd normally see lounging in some ones room. He's probably read them all three times over by now.

He has a television, which shouldn't make you giggle as it does. It's far bigger than necessary, taking up almost all the space on the eastern wall. There's a door almost adjacent to the one you entered from, which you presume is the bathroom.

"I love it, it's so comfortable in here." You muse, trotting towards the sectional and throwing yourself on the massive sofa. He chuckles, sauntering towards you and lifting your head so that he can place it atop his lap.

He can't lie to himself, it makes him ache in the most pleasant of ways to have you here, in a place that has been his only real peace since he's met you. Well, scratch that. You are his only safe haven.

"Yeah?" He replies, scratching your scalp lightly, studying the softness of your features as you gaze up at him, elated.

"Mhm, it feels like stepping into a different house entirely. Not that I have an issue with the interior design." You playfully mock his brother Taeyong’s earlier words, and laughter bubbles from your boyfriends throat.

"You don't think it's too melancholy? The house, I mean."

You shake your head indifferently, hair ruffling against the material of his jeans that are covering his thick thighs.

"To be honest it is quite....vampire-y, but it's elegant. And big. And knowing you live here makes it not seem so dark."

His hands are suddenly cupping the area just underneath your arms, effortlessly pulling you up so that you're straddling his lap. Your thighs find their place immediately, knees squeezing his torso.

"You're too good. Too pretty to be in a place like this." Despite his tone his eyes are formed into crescent moons from his smile, and you don't fight the urge to kiss him.

"Shush, or I'll battle you to the death." You mumble, his nose nudging your cheek as he tilts his head to move in a steady rythm with your mouth.

"Mm, think I beat you to it." He teases, and you can feel his smile. You're not in the frame of mind to scold him for that one.

Naturally, without even thinking, your body heats up fast from the way he kisses you. Even if he's trying to be chaste, it always ends up with a flame being fed by his tongue. His scent, the sensation of wholeness when you're surrounded by him.

Especially now, in the comfort of and quiet of his room when all you can hear is the smack of your mouths, steady and calculated. You're encapsulated by everything that belongs to the person you love.

A soft push to your shoulders has you humming in confusion, you're still not back on earth when you break apart to see the contrived, reluctant expression that twists his face.

"We can't - not here." He strains, very much so aware of way your hips are planted so firmly against his, the sweet scent of blood that rushes like a current through the area between your thighs.

You pout, and instinctually he's cupping your face between his palms, kissing it away. His fingertips graze the shell of your ear.

"Don't give me that look, you know why I'm saying no. If they thought you smelled good before, you'd be the finest of dining options if you walked down there wet."

Your body pulses with arousal, arousal that he can practically taste on the tip of his tongue. A petulant whine slips from your throat, while your palms graze his hardening length through his jeans, and his cock twitches.

Fuck. He really can't deny you, can he?

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vannyvancan · 3 years ago

Text

“nice to meet you“ Roommate!Shinsou Hitoshi X F!Reader Part 1

MINORS DNI

my masterlist

Tw for : Assassin!Shinsou theme, female reader, gun usage, slight insecurity (?), NSFW for the most part on the later chapters, drug usage, corrupt government talk, harassment

This was the worst timing of your life. It was September and you knew time is going to pass quickly to chilly December. Even though late summer's breeze made it pleasurable to go out in town to run errands, the increase of supply demand made you squeeze out what little energy you had for the office job at logistics. Barely earning your required minimum wage in the small flat that you owned, your life was miserable for your financial conditions. Then your dear neighbor friend gave you an idea.

"Put up a roommate flyers? You can definitely share expenses with someone to ease your wallet"

Its not like it was a bad idea. You had roommates in the past in your time in college, you just were afraid of the mess you'd usually come back to once your classes would end. Now that you are an adult woman with a job, it seemed almost silly. Still wearing your summer loose shirt and shorts as house-wear you were basking in what little warmth summer had to offer, you looked out of the flat window to gaze at the orange sunset while preparing your fliers, the mixture of pink and purple ombre sent your mind in a state of serenity. For a moment you had forgotten your financial worries.

If only there was a way for you to excel more at your job and earn more, you've tried to, but the corrupt system only allowed privileged people on the spot.

The thought sent you back to reality and you grimaced, sighing and turning your head back to the paper you reread the information on it.

„Looking for a roommate at Address XXX, phone number and e-mail contact info...“

It was really neat even, you made a cutout for each number and email paper so that people can pluck it and consider it. You sent out fliers and continued on with your day.

The moment you sent out fliers around your workspace, around your building and in the most populated places in the town, the realization settled in that you'd be sharing expenses with some total stranger, you didn't have any friends that needed help, almost everyone that you knew off was either married and living with their partner or busy helping their parents and therefore still living with them. You had asked your closest friend, Uraraka if she needed it as a temporary stay before she moved out of country, but her plans caught her working on the other side of the city and was too far away from you. She probably had a similar situation like you so you felt bad.

You only hoped that the person that would knock on the door and be your roommate would not end up harassing you, make a mess more than you usually make yourself, or like your pessimistic parents would say, kill you.

Within two days, you get a call early morning, startling you awake.

Flying out of bed to pluck your phone out from charger you coughed out your morning voice and looked at the unknown number on the screen, swiping the green phone you answered. You were curious on the sort of person you'd have this conversation with. Maybe you were a bit naive, because on one hand you were anxious, but you sure were also exited to have a person in this soulless flat.

"Hey... Is this the right number for a roommate flier?"

You've never heard a voice such like his. Spending your almost entire life in that neighborhood you've grown accustomed to voices such like your local sweet lady at supermarket, the friend from work had much more boring voices. But this guy seemed to have come from the outside. Perhaps Uraraka knew of him? You could ask, but doubtful.

Maybe he came to work temporarily? Your mind raced with questions as the mysterious, low voice left you speechless and it took you some time until he asked again

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Oh- y-yes I'm sorry!"

„My name is Shinsou Hitoshi, I was wondering if we could discuss about it further and meet up somewhere? Preferably an hour from now, at... Midoriya's Lounge Cafe? Sounds good?“

God, his voice sent your legs wobbling and it was only 7:05 AM on Saturday. He obviously had energy to do it now and you were barely awake, about to pass out by the mere vibrations from the speaker.

„Sure! Thank you for considering my place. Let's meet up there.“

Waking up fully you dressed up, plastered some make up on and stormed out, you also made sure to hide whatever leftover clothing from your living room in your bedroom to hide any nasty appearance if he decides to come here.

The stroll was short, the cafe he proposed was a 20 minute walk from your place, you weren’t sure if it was a coincidence that he chose this place or if he was considerate for choosing a place close by, but you were grateful for it.

8 AM and the cafe was rather busy at Saturday morning, good thing was that there was a lot of free space between tables, you'd usually pick this place to have a peace of mind when it was afternoon lunch break and you weren’t much hungry.

Now entering, the door made a small 'ding' from the doorbell, marking your entrance, your eyes scanned the area to find anyone who would be remotely looking at your direction. You didn't know how Shinsou looked like, but he could of easily tracked on the contact info how you looked like.

You made an eye contact with an individual staring at you, were his purple eyes staring back at you the whole time? The gaze sent the hairs on your back of your neck stand out. He was intimidatingly dangerous, it was apparent. His arms seemed to have enough strength to crush both of your wrists with just his one hand, his tall figure managed to find comfort in the armchair, knee poked a bit on the side and you could only guess how tall he truly was judging by his sitting position. The only coloured thing he wore was the purple strap adorning his black pants and t-shirt. The strap also matched his eyes and wild hair. It sure was in unusual colour, but you didn't question it since the owner of the said lounge was green haired.

He slowly tapped a finger on the table two times while looking at you.

'So this is Mr. Shinsou?' You questioned yourself, it was only logical, to whoever else he might invite to come sit beside him? Gulping a lump in your throat, you approached him, setting a bag on the other chair you noticed a sports bag was beside him. Was this all of his luggage? He didn't seem to have much if he was ready to move in right now, maybe he was only a temporary stay? Maybe he just came out from a gym.

Of course, it was 8 AM. And the man now sitting across you seemed to be the type to buff himself a lot, you held in your breath again once your gaze set on his exposed forearms and how tight his black shirt hugged his figure. It took you good amount of time to introduce yourself to him, but he seemed to be patient enough to let you get comfortable.

„Hello! You must be the one for the flier, my name is Y/N. It's a pleasure to make acquaintance.“

„Nice to meet you. I ordered us coffee if you don't mind?“ He smiled lightly

„Oh I don't mind, I love coffee in here, I'm a regular.“

After a short greeting, you two had a small talk on his and your state of living, you were sure he was going to be a semi-distant person, judging by his work schedule that makes it almost impossible to meet him throughout the day and night, you were kind of worried, but didn't judge much since it was his job of choice, he never said what he did though.

„Well you could say I'm a night owl. I go where I'm asked, taking calls left and right. Don't worry, I earn enough for your rent.“ He crossed his legs and laid back on the armchair, letting his arms rest on each side of it. You didn't say it but you were especially enjoying the view.

You were quiet careful when it came to relationships, ever since you had your heart broken in hopes of finding one, it made you feel insecure if you'd ever find a soulmate. This man made it seem like he was a big fish to catch, and you were out of his league so you quickly established it before any further thoughts entered in your mind.

„Great! So you want to come to my place now to look around before deciding? There's a guest room where you can leave your stuff.“

The indigo haired man nodded, after you had drank your morning coffee, you both payed for it and left, he took his sport bag and you eyed him curiously. You barely know him and now you know now he is going to come and live with you. Its not like you had much of a choice... you had to save on something, you were starving, and he came by quickly to come and live with you. As exciting as it is to have an attractive individual come and live with you, it also terrified you.

The walk back to your place was quiet, occasional questions slipped out from your mouth. Asking about his food preference and anything he didn't like to make his stay more comfortable. He seemed pretty open about anything.

„Is that all of the luggage you are taking with you or are you going to come back with more?“

„No, this is all.“ He responded, short and concise. „I'm a man of simple needs.“

God he should stop talking, or more like you should stop asking questions like a curious kitten, his voice made you jump on the phone but it was a stuggle to be with him in lounge to hear him talk as well. Once arriving, you struggled to find a door key for a second and you opened it to reveal a simple flat.

„Here we are.“ You looked at him and let him enter first.

You weren’t going to let your guard down still, if he was going to do something behind your back you at least wanted to have a little bit of chance to escape. His foot stepped inside, softly stepping on the plush carpet with his dark shoes he inspected the area almost innocently. You sighed in relief and entered after him, closing the door behind you.

„On the right is a door to the guest room.“ You said as you took off your jacket and tossed the key to the stand. „There's a bathroom in here and my room in on the left. If you ever need me just knock on the door alright?“

„You doubt that I don't have manners? Careful you might lose a roommate now.“

He turned sideways and grinned at you. There was something about this individual that's going to be a handful for you, nevertheless of how little you are going to see him throughout the day. After the short tour, he signed a contract of living with you. As you suspected, he was going to be a temporary stay in the city, he promised to be out of your neck in six months, after that, he was going out. He gave you the first pay and shortly after that he was phone called by someone on his end.

'Busy bee, isn’t he?' You thought to yourself as you watched him leave, shrugging the thought away you glanced curiously at his bag in the room that he left.

'It's not polite to look at other people's things.' You hummed and closed the door to now Shinsou's room. Feeling the unease fading away now, you decided to not worry yourself about other people's things as you had too much of your own.

Dialing the phone now yourself you sent a message to your friend.

[Today] 'Hey, Uraraka? Want to go out someday? I have so much to talk about! <3 '

#bnha shinso hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou hitoshi #shinso hitoshi #shinso hitoshi x reader #bnha shinsou #shinso x reader #shinso #bnha reader insert #mha shinsou #mha shinso x reader #god wtf so many tags

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punkpresentmic · 3 years ago

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Traitor Aizawa AU Pt. 3 — 1, 2:

Shouta ran away in the middle of the night. When Hizashi woke up, it was to an empty bed, to fists pounding at their shared suite, to UA in lockdown. Hizashi was immediately forced outside & taken in for questioning.

Shouta had left Nezu a resignation letter, in his own unmistakable handwriting. It's blunt, concise, & it contains detailed descriptions & evidence of his betrayal. It makes no excuses for his actions & it does not discuss his motivations.

When Shouta visits that night weeks upon weeks later, he says nothing of the letter & nothing of his motivations. Shouta is silent as Hizashi sobs, dutifully keeping his Quirk erased as asked. It's been a pressure building on Hizashi for far too long, so when the dam breaks, there's no stopping it. It's an unwelcome but necessary catharsis—one he needs because of Shouta, one he can have because of him. Hizashi cries himself to sleep in his husband's arms.

& in the morning, again, he wakes up alone. It could have been a dream, but this time there's a note on his nightstand. It's painfully simple, the script rushed: I'm sorry I couldn't be here when you wake up. I'm sorry it has to be like this. I want to talk with you soon. I love you, Hizashi.

He should report this. Shouta betrayed UA, he's a wanted villain, & he expressed interest in taking Eri. Hizashi should turn in the letter.

Hizashi makes himself a coffee, & he sets the letter in front of him, & he stares at it blankly while the Sun rises slowly outside. The moment the light hits it, it's like the decision has made itself. Hizashi puts the letter through their paper shredder, tucks the pieces into his pocket, buys a muffin at a coffee shop, & throws half of them away in his napkin in one trash can, half of them in another down the road. He doesn’t tell a soul. Not Nemuri. Not Eri. Not Nezu.

He has to see Shouta again.

It’s two weeks before there’s another Shouta sighting. One day Hizashi comes home & senses the difference immediately. &, oddly, it's not a bad different. He knows exactly what it means. So, he takes off his gear in the entryway. Locks the door. Takes a few calming breaths before he calls into the apartment: “Honey, I’m home.”

He steps into the bedroom. Sure enough, Shouta is sitting on the bed.

Hizashi stops. He looks like shit. Exhausted, face sallow like he hasn’t been eating, eyes red & irritated like he hasn’t been using his eye drops. It occurs to Hizashi that his prescription probably ran out. He can remember the last time he picked up a bottle from the pharmacy; he’d teased Shouta about his 'special eyes' that regular eye drops don’t work on. “How did you know I was here.” His voice is rough too. Hizashi wants to offer him water, a meal, something. He hovers in the doorway.

“I’ve felt your absence since you left. Of course I know when it’s changed.”

Shouta says nothing. Hizashi relents slightly, asks him if he’s eaten. As expected, he gets a shake of the head. Hizashi turns on a heel, brings the both of them tea & leftover takeout. Shouta scrunches his eyebrows in confusion when Hizashi hands him what’s always Shouta’s order. Hizashi shrugs, nonchalant as if he didn’t take up ordering it after Shouta left. Shouta opens his mouth to speak, but Hizashi holds up a hand. “Eat.”

& they do, in silence. Shouta is positively ravenous. Hizashi has so many questions. So many questions. But he shares this strange meal with his husband, wordlessly offering Shouta what he doesn’t finish as well. Finally, Shouta clears his throat. “You didn’t tell anybody about me.”

Hizashi doesn’t have it in him to glare—to make any expression, really. It’s all very… heavy. Fragile. Ephemeral. Breakable. Dangerous. Wrong. Hizashi purses his lips. “You’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do.”

He winces. "Hizashi, I wish I could tell you everything, but I can't."

Hizashi swallows the emotions that rise like bile in his throat, a potent mixture of fury & nausea. He has little control of what falls from his mouth. “You know, somebody referred to you as my ex the other day.”

Shouta’s expression is pained. He shakes his head & pulls his wedding ring out from its necklace tucked away as always in his ratty costume. Hizashi almost laughs. When Shouta commits to something, he commits fully, with his whole chest. It’s why so much of this doesn’t make any goddamn sense. It all threatens to choke him, but he laughs around the lump in his throat & shakes his head too, taking Shouta’s hand & squeezing hard to imprint the indent of the ring he put there into his palm. “It’s just not right, man.”

This time, Hizashi takes a page from Shouta’s book & bumps their foreheads together like a cat. Hizashi offers a watery smile. Shouta lets his eyes fall closed, inhales deeply. “I know it was too much to ask in my letter for you to believe that I'm still the person you believe me to be, but…” Hizashi freezes and pulls back, causing him to trail off.

“Shouta… what are you talking about?”

A flash of confusion, then fear crosses Shouta’s face. “The first letter I wrote to you. When I… When I left.” Shouta’s eyes search his for any sign of recognition, clearly troubled when he finds none. “I wrote everyone in my class letters. & Nezu. & Kayama. Hell, even Yagi—do you really think I wouldn’t face you of all—”

“—Shouta. None of those people received letters. Besides Nezu. I read your… resignation letter. Saw the evidence you laid out so logically for him. But I…” Hizashi’s blood suddenly grows cold. “Shou, the police took me down to the station that morning & searched the apartment. I didn’t think they took anything.” His breathing picks up. “They never told me anything about a letter—”

Shouta is barely breathing. Finally, after a long pause he swallows. “Nezu. Nezu must have found his first & arranged for a search & seizure. He would have extrapolated there were more.” He wipes a weary hand down his face, shaking his head. “You never… None of the students…” He covers his eyes, which must be aching. Hizashi has never been hesitant to offer physical reassurance to Shouta Aizawa, but he hesitates here & hates that he does. He pulls Shouta close with an arm over the shoulders.

“It’s alright,” he lies. Shouta knows. “We can talk now.”

So Shouta reiterates what was in the letter: what he’s done, how he loves him, how he wouldn't leave or do this without him if he had a choice, how he intends to return when this is settled, how in the meantime he would trust nobody else to watch over his students & Eri, how he needs Hizashi to trust that he is who Hizashi knows him to be.

“How am I supposed to be certain of that?” Hizashi whispers when he’s done.

It hurts him, Hizashi can see that. But all of this hurts. “I don’t know how to answer that.” They’re still holding hands. “But I want to,” he adds. “I want to prove it to you.”

“I want that too.”

There’s a tension in the air as they hover, faces close, uncertain if it would be okay to kiss each other. They think better of it, pull back with small sighs.

Instead, they discuss Eri. Shouta has been watching from afar when he can safely. He knew how she was struggling with her Quirk. He saw the doctor visits that hadn’t improved anything. He wanted to help. He also knew that he couldn’t sneak into UA forever, that the instant UA caught wind of it security would render it impossible & arrange for his capture. But if she’s with him, he can still help.

Hizashi shakes his head. “Shou, wherever you’ve been, it’s nowhere fit for a child. Your Quirk helps her, but her support network is here at UA. You were part of that network. & now you’re not. She is not leaving UA.”

Shouta shrinks, & after a moment he nods. He was always one to listen to reason. Hizashi, again, has to relent. As far as he can tell, Shouta only wants what’s best for her & it’s killing him not to be able to participate in that. So Hizashi elbows him lightly & pulls up pictures on his phone of all Eri has been up to lately, some of the students also making appearances. He leans Shouta onto his shoulder. It’s a tender moment. Almost normal. But all too soon it has to end. It’s not safe for Shouta to stay the night & there’s a certain window of time he has to catch to slip past security.

Shouta says he’ll return. He squeezes Hizashi’s hand as he goes to the window—the hand with his ring on it. Promises.

(pt. 4)

#isaythings #fic #traitor aizawa au #traitor!aizawa #angst #erasermic #but wait! there’s more! <3 #i will keep talking abt this whether or not any1 asks abt it & that’s a threat fjdjdj #but you’re also welcome to ask abt it 👀👀#in case it 👀👀#inspires smthn 👀👀

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wisteria-lodge · 3 years ago

Text

slightly burnt badger primary + bird secondary

I suppose my main question would be if I really have Bird in the Primary or Secondary or I just model them because I find Ravenclaw a cool house that I'd like to be in if Hogwarts was a thing. I have taken the tests, multiple times, multiple tests, and I usually get Ravenclaw. But I would be lying if I didn't say I'm not rigging them after figuring out Ravenclaw answers if I don't get Ravenclaw. I mean naturally Ravenclaw has got to be somewhere, either in a house or a model since I like it so much but the fact that I like it so much makes me distrustful of the results.

Bird is not Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw is like, Dark Academia aesthetic and drinking tea in front of rainy windows.

Rigging house sorting quizzes usually means you’re... not a Badger or a Lion, the two secondaries most focused on personal authenticity.

You can like a house and not have it. Maybe you model it, maybe you just like it. Both things are fine. :D

I'm warm, generally non-judgemental, understanding, generally fair if possible.

... that’s just people stuff. Especially with all those wiggle words!

I strive to help whoever I can, if I can, in any way I can.

Okay, that could be Badger primary, or Paragon Lion.

I am open, honest and expressive with my feelings.

That’s also such people stuff. Everyone can be emotional, and I’d say most of the sortings do value honesty... the difference is they value honesty in different contexts, and for different reasons.

In a loyalist people sense, it is hard for me to tell if I prefer everyone or just a select few people. Most often, I don't care much about knowing the person to help them; if I can I just do. I don't often ask myself why, it comes for me pretty easily, but if I were to answer it, I would say simply because the world is a better place when we help each other. And kindness is so beautiful. At the same time, I know I would jump in more readily for my friends than a stranger.

But my guess is that you would feel a guilty about not helping the stranger, if they needed you more. This is a Badger primary answer.

(and at the same time, I struggle with the paranoia at the back of my head that even my closest friends could turn on me and betray me in some way, but I often ignore that).

Hmm. Is this a tiny bit of Burnt Badger that I see. You want to trust the community, but don’t 100% believe you can?

I try to find multiple philosophies to guide me through life, but I often return to people in some form of another. (People are so beautiful and ugly and so worth it and undeserving but deserving ❤️ contradiction I know. But we wouldn't have many things without people. I mean we'd still have physics, chemistry and nature.)

‘People are important because they’re people.’ Classic Badger primary.

I am sorry, I am rambling so badly. If you've gotten to this point and didn't delete this yet thank you for your patience ☺️

Apologies = burnt secondary??? Or heck, sometimes that ‘Am I being a bother’ thing is a Burnt Badger primary thing.

Considering my Secondary.....it is hard. I am torn between Bird, Badger and Snake. I definitely like the Bird Secondary ideal, and my go to when I don't understand something is to either Google it (which I suppose would be Bird) or ask someone (Badger).

Okay, so a Built secondary. Very good.

But often in a crisis I end up thinking on the spot. Don't all people do it? It's more like "ok this didn't work, what could work? Would this work? Do I have the tools I need at disposal for this to work, can I use them or procure them or what can I do with the tools that I've got?" (Which from my understanding it would be Snake? Please correct me if I'm wrong).

What you are describing is Bird. Birds think in terms of tools. A snake would be more likely to think... am I even in the right environment right now?

I think that would be it. I don't know if this is sufficient data to extrapolate the necessary conclusions, but if you're not bored by it, I could try to be more concise. What would be your thoughts? Thank you for your time! ❤️

Honestly, this one was quite short. And from the information I have, I would say you sound like a Badger Bird. (or a Huffleclaw, in the old terminology)

#sortinghatchats #sortme #wisteria sorts #badger bird #badger primary #bird secondary

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ontowanderlust · 4 years ago

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Time + Victor

So... I'm going to give you more work because I'm curious what you'll write (sorry... not really 😅). The genre is up to you.

Time., n.

Somebody had asked me before: what’s it like to date someone like Victor?

Well...dating him means a lot of things. It means that you’re dating not just Victor as Victor but also Victor as CEO and let me tell you now, it’s not as glamorous as it would seem.

Dating a CEO means a lot of patience:

It means his phone will ring in the middle of a date just because an urgent matter had surfaced and he had to be the one to oversee this matter.

It means not seeing him for days because he had to go somewhere you can’t follow- that he had a plane to catch and the flight is leaving in an hour.

It means sleepless nights and lonely days because of the gap between timezones of countries I couldn’t even pronounce.

Dating a CEO means that the relationship is bound to be a ticking bomb with how busy he is. One moment you are with your boyfriend, the next thing you know you’d be facing a screen just to see his face.

It’s a blur, being in a relationship with him. It’s fast and slow at the same time.

And sometimes, it’s just too tiring to keep up- to try and catch him before I got swept by rushing people around him.

Then why don’t you just let him go?

Because, despite all that, dating him means loving him- and I mean all of him.

It means after the call had settled, he’d give me his attention- wholly and much more.

It means receiving a text from him- albeit short and concise, that his plane had safely landed and “don’t worry too much, I’ll be back before you know it.”

It means even though I struggle to catch up, he would gladly slow down until I am walking beside him, hands intertwined, anchoring each other.

It’s hard to compete for his time but you know what? I’d gladly wait especially if it’s him.

If anyone’s wondering about the ask itself, anon gave me a lot of prompts the other day and me being the horrible person that I am, took a while before I answered their asks. I’m so sorry!

The thing is... this prompt is quite the challenge. When I was starting out the dictionary prompt, this was one of the first words I’ve thought of for our dear CEO and the idea had just sat there until anon graciously prompted me with it.

And having a goldfish memory, I forgot my initial plan for the word so now, I spent few days wondering about what to write. I’ve gotten angsty ideas and fluffy ones too aaaaand even a song fic! But ultimately- I went with...whatever this is. Lmao. I’m a horrible person, have I told you that? Now you know.

On the side note, I had pulled the Gavin karma for the wedding karma rerun event! Whoop! It took me what, 4 ten pulls? My MLQC account is broke. Damn. Thank you wish tree. Oh but hey, I already got a Victor karma from that event waaaay back so yep, I’m a happy gal.

I dunno if people even read these notes. Sorry if it’s quite long. I figured I can talk here since I don’t interact much with your reblogs and likes sorry! Do tell me if it’s getting annoying- these notes, I mean.

Anyway, send in some prompts (please be patient with me!)

MLQC Dictionary; Masterlist

#mlqc #mlqc dictionary #koi to producer #love x evol #mr love dream date #love and producer #mldd #mr. love dream date #mr love queen’s choice #mr. love: queen's choice #evol x love #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan

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the-volume-is-astronomical · 3 years ago

Text

The Crown, The Sword, and The Gay

Meant To Be Good News

A/N: ... heyyyyy- its been a bit. I got rapped up in exams and i felt like being productive today so u get a chapterrrr and i wrote another one so u have about two chapters guaranteed ill try to be more consistent lol (also long chapter as compensation)

(also let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!)

First | Previous| Next

words: 2286

summary: Virgil doesn't want to deal with this mess but he was sent to deliver a message so, theres not much he can do

pairings: eventual prinxiety, eventual intrulogical, eventual moceit, Remile

warnings: some potty language (not much), stress, anxiety, negative self talk, food mention, worried for a characters safety

(let me know if there's any other)

They went up the steps in silence.

As they entered through the door, Roman grabbed the basket that was abandoned during the argument. He left it on a table near the entrance, he headed towards the corner with shelves, grabbed a brown book, nothing interesting in the cover, just a plain brown book and headed towards the window seat to read.

Virgil was struggling to decide if he should try to speak or not, he absolutely despised small talk but if he didn't talk he didn't want it to get awkward. He looked over to Roman because if he did decide to talk to the prince, what in the hell would he even talk about?! Virgil saw the royal glance up from his book to look at the small table near all the shelves that had a single red book, it was simple like the one he was holding, it just had a title, yet it caused more intrigue than the other.

When Virgil took a good look at Roman he looked somehow defeated, like he had lost- no, given up on a 100 year long fight. The monarch glanced once more at the table with the red book, this time however, he caught a glimpse of the stormy knight, “ You should sit down, the trip back alone takes a few hours, it's gonna be some time before you get to go back.” Virgil looked up at the prince who had resumed his reading, “Uh… yeah” he took a seat near the desk Roman kept glancing at.

Virgil decided to take a glance at the book. It seemed to be a fictional adventure book...seems interesting. Roman looked at the table again and spotted the tall knight carefully opening the book. “It’s an adventure book. Just a fairytale.” Roman’s voice seemed to startle Virgil as he immediately slammed the book shut.

“Y-yeah sorry, I didn't mean to open it without permission, that was so rude of me and-” Roman stopped him mid rant “It's alright, you can read it. One of my personal favorite books.” The prince smiled at him to show he didn't mind “I’m not much of a reader. I just uh… got curious, I guess?” Virgil didn't seem sure of his answer. “Well, I can give you a small summary! If you’d like me to, of course.” Roman backtracked pretty quickly, snide comments about how excited he got over meaningless things forcing themselves into his head. But Virgil’s “Sure, Why not?” Made him a little less apprehensive.

“Ok! So, the story is focused on this boy named Aaron. He is a poor farm boy living with his family in a village that was overthrown by the guards, they became corrupted and betrayed the royal family and took control for themselves.” Virgil just nodded along.

”They treated the least wealthy of the kingdom the worst, they didn't have money to bribe them with so to them they were useless, it got to the point where they were becoming the robbers, they would never steal from people with money because they were cruel people. Aaron and his father wanted to make a change but his mother didn't want them to, she wanted to play it safe and just gather enough money to leave for a better place.”

Roman rambling about the story not realizing how little of a summary it actually was since he definitely wasn't being concise, “I agree with the mom. Her plan sounds safe and effective.” Virgil didn't really mind, at least he wasn't going to be bored while he waited, “Maybe so! But where's the fun in that, dear knight?” Roman didn't really get the knights perspective “May not be fun but at least they'll get outta there without a problem” Virgil thought he was in the right and that the main character would make stupid reckless decisions for the drama and suspense.

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

“Aha! They went back to the mom’s plan anyway! There was literally no need to try and do all that heroic shit.” Virgil was now fully invested in the story, he probably wouldn't have been if Roman wasn’t such a good storyteller.

“Well yeah... But it was worth it! If they didn't try they would have never known the outcome of that situation.” Roman was happy the knight seemed invested, he was mostly happy because he finally got to discuss the book with someone, and that someone had very different opinions than himself.

There was a knock on the door.

They both looked at each other, It didn't feel like they had been talking for that long. So, who in the hell was at the door?

Virgil stood up, hand fidgeting with the hilt of his sword. Roman stood as well, they both walked towards the door. Virgil opened the door, only to find Ruth on the other end of the door. “Oh, it's the lady from earlier.” Virgil turned to Roman as he let her in.

“Nurse, how did you get back so quickly?” Roman spoke up. “I wouldn't say it was that quick, it's been a few hours. But we found someone along the way so that did speed up the process.” Ruth talked as she noticed the untouched basket and started nearing it.

Roman and Virgil on the other hand looked at each other with confusion. It didn't feel like they had been talking for more than half an hour. “I'm sorry, I must have been talking your ear off.” The royal felt a need to apologize, “Hey, at least you made the wait entertaining.” the knight did not deem it necessary.

Ruth turned and glared at Roman. “So, you haven't eaten?” Roman glanced at the untouched basket and cursed under his breath, he completely forgot. “ Well…” Ruth was not having it “You brat.” She walked behind him and started pushing him towards the table.

“I had an excuse!” Ruth stopped pushing him “And what is it?” Roman turned to meet her eye and said, “I get nauseous when I eat too early.” Ruth looked unimpressed “I'm fully aware Roman. But it's almost noon.” Roman’s brain scrambled for another excuse “I was reading and I lost track of time.” She was still very much unimpressed. “As long as it wasn't the book you always read, fine by me”

As Roman’s nurse made sure Roman ate she noticed Virgil standing a few feet behind them. “I wasn't able to introduce myself earlier. I am Ruth, the brat’s nurse.” She extended her hand with a smile. Virgil shook her hand while he chuckled, which was interrupted by Roman’s overdramatic offended noises. “Nurse! You’re making him think I'll be a nightmare to care for!”

Ruth turned to him “Was I supposed to lie to him and tell him you’re a delight? My apologies, sire” Roman put a hand on his chest and gasped. “Now I understand why Trent called you a witch!” Ruth laughed, “You’re just basically proving my point.” Roman could only grumble and go back to eating.

Ruth took a look around the tower and spotted the red book on a table. “I see you've decided to become a liar huh?” Roman turned to her “Whatever do you mean?” She walked towards the table and picked up the book “Seems like someone was reading the same book they always read, I don't understand why they read it if they've memorized the whole book!” Roman knew Ruth was only joking but he didn't appreciate being called a liar “I wasn't reading it this time it was just out in the open! You can ask him!”

Roman pointed at Virgil, Ruth just looked at Virgil expecting an answer, “He wasn't reading that book, he was reading the one by the window” it wasn't a lie. “You better not be covering for that devil.” Virgil noticed there wasn't any malice behind her voice, her words portrayed something different. “Are you accusing me of being a liar? I thought that was reserved for the prince.” Ruth started laughing “Hey! You’re supposed to be on my side!” Virgil just chuckled.

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

Roman’s nurse sat next to the window, looking out worriedly. Roman knew his nurse fairly well, “Has Remy not gotten back yet?” Ruth sighed and turned “My son and his tardiness again”.

Roman went over to his nurse, giving her a hug “I’m sure he’s just a little late..” Ruth tried to smile at Roman “I know Roman. I'm just a worried old hag.” Roman rolled his eyes and sat by the window

Ruth looked out the window one last time and took a deep breath. “Well I have to get going so we get there some time before sunrise” Roman stood up to say a proper goodbye to his nurse. “See you in a few days…” Roman really didn’t want to let go but he didn't have much of a choice.

Ruth started packing what she had brought in silence, once she neared the door she spoke “Roman, his and her majesty will have to be informed about this incident..” Roman was obviously not content because this would surely somehow be put partially on him. “Yes, I understand.” Ruth smiled sympathetically and turned to the storm eyed knight only a few feet away.

“Virgil, you’ll have to stay with Roman for a while longer. Commander Arlott sure didn't expect the need to find a replacement for Trent and truly not a day after being stationed here.” Virgil just nodded, he understood the circumstances and was glad to be able to witness such a sight. “The Commander insisted it would take quite some time to take someone off their post, he insisted he wasn't worried.” Ruth opened the door ready to leave, while Virgil was just trying for the pressure to not get to him.

Ruth said her final goodbyes and exited the tower.

Virgil then turned to the Royal, who went back to the same spot he had been before Ruth arrived, and just stared out the window as his nurse left.

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

As Roman sat near the big window just looking out he started wondering why Virgil had even come here in the first place. He vaguely remembered Trent mentioning him being a messenger but that could just be some Knightly insult he was unaware of. So… he asked “Virgil, if you don't mind me asking...why exactly did you come here?” Virgil looked alarmed for a second as he had just zoned out for about 20 minutes “Commander Arlott, wanted me to deliver a message to Trent” Roman just responded with a simple “Oh” and resumed his staring out the window.

“So… how did the book end?” Virgil felt a little embarrassed to interrupt the silence to ask but he got extremely invested, to the point that if the Prince refused to share the information he might just read it himself. Roman just laughed, he knew how intriguing the book was “Well… In the middle of the mother’s plan being in motion they actually got word of a rebel group that had been inspired by their attempts to take the crown back.” Virgil sat down right across from the Royal nodding for him to go on.

Roman continued speaking but he kept getting distracted by a tapping sound. At first it was nothing, but then it got so prominent he couldn't ignore it anymore. Mid-rant he stopped himself and started looking around to see where the sound could possibly be coming from.

Virgil was confused as to why the heir had stopped speaking but then he started to hear taps. They didn’t sound like just a regular forest sound and they would surely not hear minuscule noises from such a height.

“Dear knight, are you hearing that?” Virgil nodded and stood up to see what could possibly be causing the ticks, Roman stood right along with him and then suddenly pointed towards the balcony doors. “Virgil, it's coming from the balcony.”

Virgil stopped to listen carefully “Yeah, but what's causing it?” They then saw a little pebble hit the glass doors of the balcony and make the tapping they had been hearing.

Roman went to the balcony with no hesitation and opened the doors.

Virgil started having his thoughts race a mile a minute, what if this was to lure the prince out to assassinate him? If the prince died on his watch he would be hung no doubt.

As these thoughts crossed his mind, he moved forward to follow the prince. He then quickly realized the prince was leaning over the balcony having a casual conversation with his possible murderer.

“Remy, what are you doing here? Ruth is going to kill you if you don't get there by sunrise!” Roman screamed down to the man in a black cape with dark tinted glasses covering his eyes. “Well yeah! But I had to make a stop here! I have something for you!” That made Roman start jumping with anticipation as to what Remy could have brought him from his trip

“What is it Rem? Is it something fancy? Is it food? Is it a book?” Though his eyes couldn't be spotted, not only because of his glasses but due to the height, it was very apparent he rolled his eyes. “No! It's a letter.” That got Roman even more excited. Could it actually be him? Roman haven't received anything but it could actually be! Finally some good news!

“Who’s it from?!” Remy looked down at the letter as if inspecting it “I don't know.” That caused Roman’s excitement to dull immensely. He would have surely marked it. There’s still a chance it could be him, right? Roman’s anticipation quickly turned into more of an anxious feeling.

taglist:

@meowthefluffy

@shade-romeo

@pattonsmile

@sevencreepycatsinacoat

@mychemically-imbalanced-romance

@innerpostturtle

@queenof-hell

@joyrose-fandomer

@vpow

#prinxiety #remile #ts roman #roman sanders #ts virgil #virgil sanders #roman angst #prinxiety fic #platonic remy n roman

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catboynecromancy · 3 years ago

Note

sometimes i’m like yes i could write a fanfic if i wanted to because i have many ideas, but then i read masterpieces such as your latest work and i’m like yeah i could never write in such a beautiful way, like how the fuck do i even describe a city and a weather i have never experience, but also i get that writing can be self indulgent and i want that, and like sometimes i do think of words that sound nice (at least in my mind) but is always in the most inconvenient circumstances like in the shower, or when i’m about to fall sleep, so i never have the opportunity to write them down, and i always forget what i was thinking. anyway, if it’s ok to ask i’m a little curious about the process of how you write your stories, you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to. and it goes without saying that i loooooove your writing xoxo 😘

Hi anon, sorry it took me a bit to get to this. I hope you're having a lovely morning/day/evening/night wherever you are! 💕 I am going to try making this as concise as I can, okay?

First off, I want to say how much I appreciate you for taking the time out of your day to send this message. Thank you so much for reading my work and being so supportive of me and for the nice words about my writing 😭💕

Next, I want to say, you should absolutely write fanfic! If you have ideas you want to see come to life, try your hand at writing them! Everyone starts somewhere and writing is, like pretty much everything else, a thing that you can practice on to develop your skills over time. Reading both published fiction and fanfic helps immensely with writing as well, especially when it comes to learning how to describe things in ways you find personally satisfying. 😊

I am going to let you in on a little secret. Or maybe it's not so much of one. Most fic writers whose stuff you like? They compare themselves to other writers, they look at someone else's work and they feel discouraged (or sometimes inspired!) about their own stuff. They think, "Oh, I wish I could describe this particular emotion the way they did", or "Wow their characterization is incredible, I could never", or "The way they handle dialogue is so good why can't I write like that?"

I cannot even express the number of times I have read a fic and wished my writing was like that, but then I realize there are stories only I can tell hanging around up in my head, or ways I can put words together that no one else can do. It's the same for you, anon. There are stories that you're the only person in the whole world that could bring them to life, and if this is something you want to do, don't let yourself worry too much about what other people are doing. Instead, look at their stuff, shape it into inspiration instead of discouragement.

I'm not an expert in any way. My writing process is terrible, it's sloppy, it's slow, it's not really much at all. I talk some close friends' ears off (thank you lizzie, sophie, amber, cheeeryos)! I often find inspiration from music, or conversations, and shape those into stories I want to tell. From there, sometimes I outline, sometimes I don't. Most often, I don't, and the only fic I have a full outline for is tapoma. I can sometimes write a couple thousand words a day, or will sit staring at a wall for 6 hours and only get 200 words in. It's all very...well! It's a lot, but it's fun, and it's worth it when I finish something that I feel proud of :)

So I guess TDLR; Anon you CAN write in a way that is beautiful. It seems daunting at first, but writing is like a puzzle, sometimes it's hard to find the pieces that fit together, and sometimes you find them instantly and it all slots together juuust right. Sometimes you have to move pieces around until you find something that may not be right, but is satisfying in it's own way.

Actually, idk where i am going with this. I just want you to know everyone struggles, everyone thinks they aren't good enough, but you are, all you have to do is start!

Also, anon, if you love pynch (and you're 18+) and would at all be interested in a server, there are a lot of us writers in there who I am sure would be glad to talk about our process, our inspiration, and help in whatever way we can, so feel free to hit up my DMs if that is anything that interests you.

💕

#anonymous #asks

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cockroachmotherfucker10 · 4 years ago

Note

I’m worried about heart damage from previous anorexia based on some symptoms I’ve had for years now but can’t quite explain well. I only recovered because I noticed that my heart was beating less and less. Forty pounds later and it might have been too late, anyway. But again, I don’t know how to phrase any of this to my doctor in a concise way. I feel lost and kind of scared.

Anon, I totally understand how you're feeling. Before I give you my advice, I'm going to share my own experience, but if you prefer to skip that (totally fine!), I've added a large heading before my advice.

My Experience

I already had a heart condition (reflex anoxic seizures [RAS]) before my anorexia started, but at my worst, it got...scary.

The chest pain was constant. At night, the pain of heart palpitations--all those irregular flips and pauses and stutters--would keep me up for hours, and I'd pray with every ounce of faith I had to wake up alive in the morning. My heart felt like a fragile, fluttery thing, weak and untrustworthy. But I tried to ignore it, tried to blame it all on my RAS.

Of course, when I entered recovery, my heart issues improved very quickly, as did my breathing problems (it used to be that I constantly struggled to get a full breath and always felt like there was a steel vice constricting my lungs, or like I was trying to breathe underwater)--because my RAS was never the cause. Starving was.

What's interesting is, my heart issues started before I became severely underweight. I had had them for the entire 3-4 years before I entered recovery. It's TERRIFYING how quickly anorexia gave me health issues.

Now that I have spent a year in recovery/quasi-recovery, with relapses here and there, I still worry about my heart. If I go for a short jog in the evening, I will lie in bed hours later and have heart palpitations. If I go too long without eating, my heart will start to feel fluttery and weak again. I have low blood pressure and feel like I'm going to black out if I stand up, or sit up, or straighten out my posture.

And I will be 100% honest with you, Anon: I haven't told the doctor about it. I go to my yearly checkups, but I haven't mentioned my concerns, because I am so scared of finding out that my fear is justified.

I absolutely understand how scary it can be, Anon. I am so sorry you are going through this.

My Advice

My best advice is to make a plan for what you will tell the doctor. First, what do you think they might need to know? I have some ideas:

The symptoms that concern you now

Symptoms you had in the past

Why you think you are having problems

Now let's break it down further. Let's look at the first category: the symptoms that concern you now.

What are these symptoms? (e.g. chest pain; irregular pulse; dizziness; paleness; cold, blue, swollen, or numb extremities; shortness of breath; fatigue)

Can you describe them in detail? (e.g. pain--is it stabbing, burning, aching, squeezing? Irregular pulse--does your heart beat too fast, beat too slow, pound, flutter, skip beats?)

Where in your body do they occur? (e.g. your heart; your whole chest; the left side of your chest; your extremities)

When/how often do they occur? (e.g. every day; at least twice a week; when you lay down)

When did they start? (e.g. X years ago; when your eating disorder started; when you reached X weight)

Have you noticed any triggers that make them worse? (e.g. exercise; skipping meals; caffeine)

Have you noticed anything that helps? (e.g. relaxation techniques; drinking water; eating)

The next category is symptoms you had in the past.

What were these symptoms? Can you describe them in detail? Where in your body did they occur? When/how often did they occur? What made them better/worse? When did they start?

When did they stop? (e.g. X years ago; when you started recovery; when you reached X weight)

Did you make any changes before they stopped? (e.g. increased caloric intake; gained weight; changed exercise habits; was hospitalized; started taking vitamins; changed contents of diet)

Do they ever come back? (e.g. every couple months; only after intense exercise; never)

And finally, why you think you are having problems.

What do you believe caused these symptoms? (e.g. anorexia, restriction; e.g. anorexia, binge-purge; bulimia)

How long did this last? (e.g. X years; most of high school)

What potentially harmful behaviors have you engaged in? (e.g. extreme weight loss; being underweight; undereating; fasting; laxative abuse; excessive caffeine; overexercise; purging)

Can you describe these behaviors in detail? (e.g. X-lb weight loss in X months/years; weighing X lbs; ~X daily calories; ~X hours/days of fasting daily/weekly; ~X hours of cardio daily; ~X times purging daily)

How often and for how long did you engage in these behaviors? (e.g. every day; on and off for a few months at a time; at least twice per week)

When did you stop engaging in these behaviors? (e.g. X months ago; tapered off starting X years ago; after hospitalization in 20XX)

Do you ever engage in these behaviors now? (e.g. every few months; after noticing weight gain; never)

What have you been diagnosed with? (e.g. anorexia nervosa, binge-purge subtype; reflex anoxic seizures; hypotension; iron deficiency; nothing but should have been)

What medications and supplements are you taking? (e.g. Prozac; blood thinners; multivitamins; ibuprofen when needed)

What is your family medical history? (e.g. hypotension runs in the family; father had heart attack at age XX; grandmother died of stroke; most female relatives struggle with disordered eating)

Okay, now that we have a list of some things the doctor might want to know, it's time to make notes. Get a piece of paper, a notebook, a Google Doc, or whatever, and start writing down the answers to these questions. If you can think of any more questions or relevant information the doctor might be interested in, great! Write all of that down too.

If you want, you can bring these notes to your appointment to help you remember the info, or even to show the doctor. If you don't bring your notes, you'll still be prepared for the questions the doctor might ask you.

Now it's time to schedule an appointment. I'd recommend going to your primary care physician first; if they recommend seeing a specialist, then it may be time to book an appointment with a cardiologist.

When you make your appointment, just give the basics of your symptoms. For example, "Hi, I'm _______. I'd like to schedule an appointment with Dr. _______. I've been having heart palpitations and chest pain and I just want to see what's going on."

And now comes the hard part: talking to the doctor. Start with the most important information first (when I listed the questions in blue text, I tried to put the most important ones first in each category), and expand on it when asked.

If at all possible, I would strongly recommend telling the doctor about your history with anorexia in as much detail as they ask for (I'd also recommend asking the nurse not to tell you your weight!). However, I know it might be hard to talk about your eating disorder. Just give as much information as you can, even if it means having to say something vague like "I lost a lot of weight a few years back."

The important thing to remember is that your doctor will not judge you for your history with anorexia. Doctors have seen everything; all they care about is treating their patients as best they can. It's scary to think that something could be wrong, but it's better you discover any problems and start looking at treatment options now, rather than later.

You can do this, Anon! I'm proud of you for wanting to talk to your doctor. You make me want to seek help for my own heart problems. I believe in you, and I wish you the best of luck! ❤️

-Mod Lia

#mod lia #ask #asks #eating disorder recovery #edrecovery #ana recovery #ed recovery #anorexia recovery

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mskinkyafro · 5 years ago

Text

Until Then (RoD x OH Crossover)

A/N: I’ve been wanting to make a crossover fic for some time now and I’m excited to have written, planned, and created such backgrounds to interweave the two MC’s and their books together. This originally was only going to be a simple one-shot but over the last week and a half I spent writing, I’ve been inspired to make spin-off/continuation fics centered around these two MCs. I fell in love with their dynamics and I have to explore them more. Big thanks and shoutout to @jakemckenziesprincess for basically being my beta and making this a better, more concise, and great fic.

Summary: Aunt and niece, Dr. Katrina Michaels and Chelsea Michaels reunite after years and find themselves bonding over the struggles and pain of forbidden romances.

Side Note: This fic takes place after the finales of both RoD and OH 1, and prior to beginning of OH.

Implied Pairings: Logan x MC & Ethan x MC

A soft breeze rustles Chelsea Michaels’ brown, curly tresses, slowly pulling her out of her thoughts. She gazes out at the sight of a tranquil lake that typically is filled with people on a summer day, but today she finds herself alone sitting on the hood of her car. She thinks of how she left the dual lives she was leading behind and now embarking on a whole new adventure. Although adjusting to life in Connecticut and proud of how far she’s grown in the last few months, a part of her lingers elsewhere.

The sound of whimsical chiming interrupts her time of reflection and she looks down at her cell phone. She swipes on the screen and smiles as the image of a middle-aged man with dark brown skin and kind eyes just like hers appears.

“Hi, Dad!”

“Hi, Sweetheart!”

His eyes look tired, yet there’s still a smile that graces his face as he sees his daughter. Through the time she’s been gone, he’s evaluated his parenting and is learning from the mistakes. There’s still things he’d wouldn’t change but overall, he wished it all went differently. But he can’t change the past nor the pain his little girl went through. He can only be better moving forward.

“How’s the east coast treating you, Chels?

“It's been an adjustment, but good so far! The honor’s summer engineer program is amazing! It’s so much excitement, I’m still processing it all. I mean I can’t believe it’s already been a month since I left.”

“I can,” he interjects with a sad smile.

Chelsea pauses speaking and runs her hand through her hair as she looks away from her father’s misty eyes.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know things between us are slowly...well you know--and you’re an adult now. But what can I say? I’m still struggling to see my baby girl all grown up.”

“Oh, Dad. I know...I know things were hard. I didn’t make it easier and I know we have a long way to go but we’ll get there. Besides, I may be getting the hang of this new routine but...well I mean it’s--”

He watches his daughter stutter and can see the lack of spunk she usually has. He cuts her off.

“Something’s off though, isn’t it?”

“How’d you know?”

“You forget. I’m your dad. I know when something is bothering you.”

She cracks a light laugh.

“I guess some things don’t change.”

“Me knowing what upsets my baby girl? Not a chance. So is it making friends? Because your old man had trouble meeting others when I first went to school.”

“No, my roommates are cool. And the other students in the program are nice. I really can’t explain it...it’s just I miss-- well I just...” she trails off and looks down at her phone screen. Her hazel eyes connected with her father’s and at that moment he knew what was upsetting her.

“I see.” he murmurs. His tone was a little rougher than he anticipated.

Chelsea briskly turns away from the screen and clears her throat. Her voice is tight.

“Thanks for checking in Dad. I’ll text you later. Love you. Bye.”

Chelsea ends the call before he can say anything else. He sighs to himself and rubs his hand over his face, frustrated. It was moments like this that he wished Nia was alive. Every day he missed his wife and although he managed to raise Chelsea through a challenging time, a girl still needs her mother. Not happy with how things were left he decided to call his sister. At times he didn’t know what to do, and when those times came, he would call his sister. Without any hesitation, he scrolled through his recent call list until his finger hovered over her name and pressed down on the screen. The dial tone rang three times before he heard a familiar, tired voice say,

“Dr. Michaels speaking.”

“I get it, you went to medical school so you’re the favorite between Mama and Pops,” he says with feign annoyance.

“Keenan, I’ll have you know I’ve been Mama and Daddy’s favorite without even having to become a doctor, thank you very much.”

“Sure, Kat. Keep telling yourself that.”

“Oh, I will. So what do I owe the pleasure of this call? It's been a minute since you’ve called. All I got was measly texts here and there.” Katrina says.

“You could’ve called me if you were missing my voice, Kat.”

“You know how busy I am, saving lives and all. You know, no biggie.”

Keenan scoffs and retorts.

“And me being a decorated detective in L.A. leaves me with an ample amount of time?”

“Who’s bragging about accomplishments now?” she teases.

“You know what? You ain’t no good.”

They two siblings laugh together, drowning out the other by their bellows of chuckles.

“But in all seriousness, are things okay? Is my niece okay? I’m sorry again I couldn’t make it to her graduation. I didn’t go into detail at the moment because of how stressed I was on my end, but I…almost lost my medical license.”

Keenan fumbles with his phone at the news before returning to his ear.

“Woah! Hold up?! What?!”

“Calm down, Keenan. The keyword is almost.”

“Kat, when I used to say ‘don’t kill anyone’, I was just teasing but now I’m starting to think I should’ve been serious.”

“Ha-Ha very funny. It's a long story but in the end, I won my case. Also, I got a promotion.”

“Well, that’s a complete 180. What a first year, I’m glad to hear you worked it out. And congratulations sis! I’m proud of you. So, Ms. Big-Shot what’s your new position?”

Katrina clears her throat before she mumbles.

“I, erm, got a spot as Junior fellow on the Diagnostic team. You know, the team that the Dr. Ramsey--”

“The team Dr. Ramsey is a part of. I know of it well. You forget how much you used to go on and on about how great this Ethan Ramsey was throughout your time in med school. You lived up to the annoying little sister in those moments more than when we were kids and you used to follow me around trying to measure my vitamin intake.”

“I was that bad, was I?”

“You were. But forget that, you’re working with your idol. Are you excited?”

“Well...having him as a mentor and other things has been quite the um-- experience. I can only imagine working with him on a new scale will be just as interesting.”

Keenan noticed a hesitation but didn’t press it.

“I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks.”

“And to answer your previous questions, Chelsea’s doing great. She’s settled in Connecticut. In a town called Manchester, not too far from you I believe. And if I’m honest the last few months between me and her haven’t been the best. They were the worst.”

“What the hell? You two are like peas in a pod. What happened?”

Kennan sighs, “I rather let Chelsea tell you the details. It's mainly her story to tell. Speaking of, she’s why I called. I was hoping you can invite her up to visit you in Boston for a few weeks. I know her program is having a month-long break and from our last conversation, I think she could use some woman to woman time.”

“Of course. Anything for my niece. Does she need a lift? Manchester is about two hours and with my student debt, a car is not a luxury I’ve invested in but one of my friends has--”

“Chelsea has one.”

“What?! No way. You finally taught that girl to drive? Much less bought her a car?!

Katrina couldn’t hide the disbelief in her voice. She knew after the passing of her sister in law her brother struggled with letting Chelsea onto the busy roads.

“You know after all that happened, I was worried that you might never--”

Keenan interrupts her again.

“No. I didn’t.”

“Oh? From a friend then?”

Katrina hears her brother suck in the air.

“You could say that.”

She doesn’t mention the way he sounded as he answered her.

“Well, in that case, tell her that I’d love for her to come visit. My roommates and I have an extra room she can stay in too. Tell her to meet me at Edenbrook in a few days whenever she gets her things together for a stay.”

“Thanks, Katrina. I think her spending time with you will help.”

“Her and me both.”

The two stay on the phone for a few more minutes before ending the call.

Before long a week passes and Chelsea finds herself five minutes away from one of Boston’s greatest hospitals, Edenbrook. She hadn’t seen her aunt in so long. Her being in medical school in the past years had cut down the amount of time she could visit. Chelsea parked her car in the visitor's parking lot and got out. Once out of the car, she brushes lint off her dark wash denim jeans, adjusts her red tube top and ties the laces on her white converse. As she pulls her hair up into a messy bun she looks in her sideview mirror. Approving what she sees she heads to the entrance of the hospital.

Once inside she’s taken aback by how large and modern the hospital is. After taking it all in she looks around the semi-quiet place in search of someone to help her find her aunt. And as if someone was reading her mind, an older man with a friendly smile noticed her uncertain expression and approached her.

“Do you need help, miss?”

Chelsea smiles gratefully.“Hi! I do. I’m here to see my aunt--”

“Oh is she a patient? If you go to the front desk a few feet in front of us--”

“Oh no. She’s a doctor here. Do you know her? Her name is Katrina Mich--”

“Ahh! Dr. Michaels! Of course, I do my dear. I’d be a terrible man if I didn’t remember the woman who saved my life. She’s made quite the name for herself here at Edenbrook.”

Chelsea was surprised to hear such news from this man but it made her happy nonetheless.

“Wow! I had no idea. It's been a while since I’ve seen her but I’m supposed to meet her right now.”

The man extends his hand and introduces himself.

“First, my dear. Hello, I’m Dr. Banerji.”

“Chelsea. Chelsea Michaels. Nice to meet you, doctor.” she says as she shakes his hand.

“Now that I have a better look at you, I can see the resemblance.”

“I get that from time to time. So, did you have any idea where she could be?”

“Well it's 6:00 pm now and her shift ended a little earlier so she’s probably at Donahues. It's that little Pub across the way.”

“Thanks!”

“My pleasure.”

Chelsea waves at the kind doctor as she walks back outside. As she walks closer to the bar, a man calls out, stopping her in her tracks.

“Hey there, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing all by herself?” he asks, his speech slurred.

Chelsea crinkles her nose in disgust and ignores the intoxicated man as she keeps walking forward. As she reaches for the handle to open the door, the man puts his hand on top of hers, and inches forward. The alcohol on his breath assaults her nose as he continues to speak.

“Hey, don’t be so cold. I’m just trying to get to know you.”

“Well, I don’t want to.”

Chelsea yanks her hand free and takes a few steps back to distance herself from the man.

“Come on, a beautiful girl like--”

“Exactly, A girl. I’m eighteen, creep.”

“Last time I checked, eighteen is legal, sweetie.” he attempts to reach out to grab Chelseas’s arm but is interrupted by a gruff voice.

“Is there a problem here?”

Chelsea turns around and behind her is a tall man in a gray sweater, possibly in his thirties, with piercing blue eyes and a stern expression on his face as he stares down the other man.

“Nope. Just having a friendly conversation.” the man replied, his speech slurred even more than before.

“Why don’t you stop making an ass of yourself and leave this young woman alone who is not interested in partaking in any conversation with you.” the man says as he takes a commanding step towards the drunk.

The drunk man steps away from Chelsea and begins to walk off, muttering under his breath. Once he’s a distance away from the pub, Chelsea turns to the stranger.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to get involved. If he got any closer, he would’ve ended up across the street. ” she says as she lifts her balled fist.

The man’s eyebrow lifted slightly, an amusement flash from his eyes as soon as it was there.

“That’s exactly why I intervened. We don’t need any more PITA patients. ”

“Pita? Erm, never mind, so you’re a doctor at Edenbrook?”

“ Yes. And you should run along. You’re a bit young, aren’t you Bambi?”

“Bambi?”

Right as she was going to question the man, he started to head inside, ignoring her confusion.

Inside, it's decently filled with patrons but not overly crowded. The biggest gathering is a group of doctors sitting in the center talking and sipping their drinks casually.

As they stand by the entrance, Chelsea squints as she searches through the dim-lighted space. The man was beginning to question her but she spoke before he could get a word out.

“I’m here to find my aunt. I was told she’d be in here and I was supposed to meet her right now.”

She walks forward toward the group, with the stranger lingering behind.

“Who is your aunt--”

He’s cut off by Chelsea’s excited squeal.

“Auntie Kitty!”

Katrina startled by the almost forgotten name, looks up and smiles widely and gets up quickly from the table as her eyes land on her teenage niece.

“Seashell! How are you? Is it six already? I hope you had no trouble finding me.”

She says excitedly as she pulls her into a big hug.

“I’m great! And it’s no biggie, auntie. I got here in one piece. There was a slight hiccup outside this place, but I had it handle--”

“You called that handled, Bambi?”

Chelsea breaks away from Katrina and turns around to gesture to the man behind her who is hidden from Katrina’s view.

“I did. But your assistance was appreciated, Mr...I didn’t get your name.”

Before he could answer, Katrina speaks as she moves closer to the two.

“Dr. Ramsey.”

“Rookie.”

His eyes bore into Katrina’s and the two stare at each other for a while, almost for too long. As Chelsea stood between the two, she noticed a spark between her aunt and Dr. Ramsey. It was so visible she felt as if she was intruding on something intimate, something only for the two of them. She clears her throat, bringing the two back into reality.

“I didn’t realize you two knew each other,” Chelsea says, her eyebrow quirked at the two.

“Rookie here has been a colossal pain in my ass this past year.”

Chelsea could hear the touch of fondness in his voice despite the words he used.

“What happened to being Edenbrook’s brightest, Ethan?”

He rolls his eyes and barely hides a smile. He turns to Chelsea.

“Please tell me big egos don’t run in your family, Bambi or is it strictly exclusive to her.”

“Wait--Bambi? How’d you give my niece a nickname already?”

He shrugs as a man in a wheelchair rolls up toward the three. He faces Chelsea and extends his hand out. Ethan takes this time to excuse himself from the two women.

“Bambi, Rookie.”

Katrina watches him retreat to the bar as Elijah introduces himself to Chelsea, waving the others to come do the same.

“Hey, I’m Elijah Greene. One of your aunt’s roommates, best friends, co-workers, and partners in crime. You know, the entire package.”

“Chelsea Michaels. You all, partners in crime?” she asks with a laugh.

“Oh, Elijah is just exaggerating. I’m Sienna Trinh, nice to meet you.”

A petite Asian woman steps up next to greet Chelsea. Soon, a Black woman, a Polynesian man, an Indian woman, and a Porteguese man follow suit. Kat points at each one and introduces everyone to her niece.

“Aurora Emery.”

“Bryce Lahela”

“Jackie Varma.”

“Rafael Aveiro”

Jackie then turns to Sienna and says, “Elijah has a point. I mean we’ve done some questionably legal things.” Her eyes land on Katrina.

Brye chimes in, “Are you a criminal mastermind like Hotshot over here, Chelsea?”

Chelsea rubs her arms shyly. She stammers a bit before Rafael interjects.

“I wouldn't be surprised if she was.”

“Enough teasing, you two,” Katrina says.

The group laughs as Katrina’s eyes her niece skeptical as she notices her sudden quiet and skittish behavior. Looking her over she finally notices the colorful pattern of pink flowers surrounded by tendrils of blues on Chelsea’s right arm. Staring the teen down, Kat’s voice interrupts all of the side conversations.

“What the hell is on your arm, Chelsea?! Don’t tell me what I think that is!”

Immediately the rest of the friends look toward her arm and look back towards Katrina. Curious to see her in such a parental role.

“In that case, it’s definitely not a tattoo.” Jackie murmurs sarcastically.

“Not helping, Jackie.” Sienna says as she elbows the woman.

Chelsea nervously looks at her tattoo and rubs it absentmindedly.

“So, this is one of the new things that’s happening with me.”

“It has to be fake. One of those semi-permanent tattoos that last a month, right?” her aunt asks insistently.

Her niece avoids eye contact and looks to one of the others, hoping to get a little help.

Elijah chimes in, “You know, I think it looks really badass. Not everyone can rock a whole sleeve tat.”

Katrina glares at the man and he raises his hands in mock defeat. Before she can lay more into her niece Aurora speaks up.

“I was pegging you as a goody-two shoes like your aunt here. You both have the miss congeniality vibe but clearly there’s more to you.”

“I don’t mean to pry but we heard something about this past year has been crazy for you, but I’m thinking that it's crazier than imagined.” Rafael says.

Chelsea shrugs her shoulders and grabs a nearby chair to sit in.

“That’s one way of putting it. This tattoo is nothing compared to the other things that happened. I can’t talk about much because well-- to answer your question, they for sure dance on the line of legality.”

Katrina crosses her arms over her chest.

“Oh boy, how illegal are we talking?.”

Everyone shuffles a little closer to Chelsea, wondering what’s about to come out of her mouth.

She coughs out “Like...I don’t know, I may have been a part of a crew that may have stolen approximately in total ten million dollars worth of cars.”

There was silence before everyone started talking over the other, however not much longer Katrina’s voice overwhelmed the others.

“What the fuck?! You did, what?!”

Chelsea leans forward and points her finger at her aunt.

“Allegedly.”

“Allegedly my ass! How did you…” her aunt tried to ask but Bryce cut in.

“Woah! Okay so that’s some next level, Fast & the Furious shit. The lives of teenagers nowadays. When I was in high school, the craziest experience was on prom night.”

“Prom. Now that was quite the time. I can tell you must have had some wild ones, Meathead.” Jackie teases.

The others get caught up in reminiscing about their prom days that it gave the two Michaels women time to chat briefly.

“Okay, so now that I’ve digested all of this. All I can say is wow. I’m going to need details later on though.”

“So how mad are you?”

“I’m not mad, I’m concerned. Plus, I can’t have you be the one to freak your dad out,, that’s my job.” she jokes.

The two chuckle and are back to the main conversation when Sienna asks.

“What about you, Katrina? How was your prom? I bet you were Queen.”

“Is it that obvious? I was, but it wasn’t a glorious reign. After the crowning, during the royal first dance, the King got too handsy so I stepped on his foot and caused him to crash into the snack table which split hawaiian punch all over the DJ booth.”

Everyone laughs and Kat’s retelling and Elijah then asks Chelsea,

“So how was your prom, Chelsea? Was it more on the normal side? Handsome date, tux, corsage the usual set up.”

Hearing Elijah’s question sends flashes to Chelsea’s head of that night with Logan. How surprised she was to see him at Riya’s door. From the magical way it was being so intimate with him to the dangers that were awaiting them after. She shakes her head and gives a simple answer.

“It was fine. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Her aunt raises an eyebrow at her niece but the expression is lost due the growls that roared over the conversation. With a blush on her cheeks, Chelsea speaks.

“I guess it’s time for dinner.”

“My stomach seemed to agree as well.”

Katrina holds out her arm and Chelsea gets up from her chair, links her own arm into Kat’s and smiles at her.

“McDermots?”

“You know me so well.”

The two say their goodbyes to everyone as they made their exit, Chelsea looked back to make sure Katrina followed and she caught once again her aunt exchanging heated glances with Ethan. She noted to herself to ask more about the two.

“Auntie Kitty, you good?”

With a nod, the Michaels women left Donahues and headed toward Chelsea’s car.

As they approached the bright neon pink 2015 Stuttgart 999 Widow, Katrina’s gait slowed down.

“You’re kidding? This is your car?! There’s no way my brother cosigned on this baby, even though she’s gorgeous.”

She slowly rubs her hand over the hood of the car.

“He didn’t. It was a gift from a friend.” Chelsea says quickly as she unlocks the doors and gets into the driver’s seat and starts the ignition.

The hum of the engine shook Katrina from her inspections and she entered the passenger seat, failing to keep her shock off her face. As Chelsea pulls out of the parking lot and cruises down the road, Katrina’s eyes lock on a picture strip that hangs on the visor. In it, she saw different poses of the same couple. Chelsea and some young man with chocolate brown skin, dark hair with a matching beard. In each photo, the two were pressed together smiling or laughing and in the last still, the two had their foreheads pressed against the other as their lips were inches apart.

“Who’s that?”

Chelsea looks up to what her aunt points at and mentally curses for not hiding the photo.

“He’s...he’s no one.”

Concerned at a cold response, she pressed further.

“I doubt it. He looks like someone important. And you look important to him too,”

Chelsea presses on the gas pedal and Katrina holds her door handle as the car begins to accelerate faster and faster.

“ Looked. E-d as in past tense. Either way, it doesn’t matter.” she replied sharply.

“One, watch the attitude and two, slow down. And clearly, it does.” Katrina chides.

With her patience running thin and out of frustration, Chelsea veers off to park in an empty spot on the side of the road with a harsh brake. The two jolt forward and then back into their seats.

“Drop it!” She squeezes the steering wheel tightly, ignoring the crazy look her aunt was giving her. In a small voice, she continues.

“...Please.”

A tense silence fills the air as they sit momentarily. After a few minutes, she pulls back into traffic and sighs.

“It all started with my clumsiness and not watching where I was going.”

An hour passed as the two found themselves out on the balcony of Katrina’s apartment looking over the city. Katrina sips slowly on a glass of wine as she leans onto the rail next to her niece. The lights below them dazzle into the night. Chelsea breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Now I forget you’re grown up now so I really can’t pull the ‘I’m the adult’ card but just don’t get used to raising your voice at me.”

“Of course, but--”

Katrina waves her hand dismissively.

“I shouldn’t have pushed too far. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

Chelsea shoots her small smile and she shakes her head in disagreement.

“I appreciate it, but it still isn’t an excuse for me to lash out.”

She then pulls her scrunchie out her bun and runs her fingers through her curls as she continues.

“Talking about Logan, just thinking about him at times is hard. Many would brush it off as a whirlwind romance or young stupid love, but I know they’re wrong. Deep down-- deep down what we had is real. Well, it was.”

She wanders from the railing and sits down, her back against the windowpane.

“I know I have my whole future to look to. I know there will be other guys but then again I don’t want there to be anyone else. And I don’t want my future to not have Logan in it. What can I say? I love him. I love him so much.” she admits, her eyes glisten at the weight being lifted off her heart.

Katrina sets down her glass as she crouches closer to her niece and holds her close, rubbing soothing circles on her back. A quiet cry flows out as she sits in the arms of Katrina. She whispers into the crying teen’s ear.

“It’s okay. Love is beautiful and at times, a painful thing. Especially when it’s your first love. I know it seems like--”

Through sobs, Chelsea chokes out.

“That’s the issue though! This wasn’t some typical boy meets girl. This was special! Right now he’s out there-- somewhere and I’m missing him so much, wondering if he’s safe. Secretly hoping he didn’ forget me. This hollowness that’s settled is suffocating me. I feel so incomplete. In my mind, only one person can make me whole again. No one seems to understand that. Do you know what it’s like to want someone so bad but can’t be with them? Because if you can’t then I don’t want to hear some patronizing--”

Katrina lets go of her niece so that she’s looking directly in her eyes. As she cuts her off.

“You’re not the only one.”

Chelsea wipes her eyes as her aunt turns away to look out to the city skylight.

“You feel like you’ll drown under these intense emotions. No matter how hard you try, every thought leads back to him. When the wind lightly caresses your skin, you remember the way he’d kiss you softly. And it takes everything in your power not to run to them, risk it all just to have their love even though everything points to why you can’t be together. So yes, I know exactly how you feel.”

She turns back to find Chelsea’s eyes glue onto her.

“It’s him, isn’t it. Dr. Ramsey.” Chelsea whimpers.

Her aunt scoots closer to the teen and rests her head on top of hers.

“Yeah. Ethan and I...well it’s complicated.”

“I could tell. You both stop when around the other, you forget anyone else is even near.”

“I never thought the man I looked up to would become my colleague, much less someone I’d care so deeply for.”

Chelsea traces small patterns on her jeans as she asks.

“Are you sure you two can’t work something out?

“At the moment, no. There are too many variables. Politics of the hospital, gossip, my reputation, the list goes on.” she sighs.

“So there’s two Michaels women shit out of luck in the romance department?”

“Misery loves company. You see, we’re victims of circumstances and fate’s misfortune. We were dealt a shitty hand and this part of life folded.”

The two sit in small silence, letting the hums of street life surround them. Not too long Chelsea speaks.

“Will it ever get better? How do we cope?”

Katrina reaches to grasp her niece’s hand and squeezes.

“ With time, it will. To cope is another battle within itself. I think for that, we have to do something slightly dangerous.”

Chelsea lifts her head, forcing Katrina to lift her own and look down at the teen.

“What’s that?”

“Hope. Hope that one day that our loves still have a chance. To believe that in time, they’ll come back to us.”

Chelsea takes in what her aunt says and with no hesitation latches herself onto the older woman, hugging her tight.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you. It's nice to have someone who understands.”

“It is.”

The two sat there in their embrace, filled with a new kindle of optimism that only lingered before.

Tagged: @silverlitskies

End Note: If anyone else reads this and enjoys and like to be tagged in any future crossover fics, just let me know!

#choices fanfiction #choices stories you play #RoD x OH crossover fic #choices ride or die #choices open heart #logan x mc #ethan x mc #long fic #rod #open heart #ethan ramsey #oh mc #rod mc #Logan rod #logan

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starlling-writes · 4 years ago

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Bewitching Monsters - Leshen

Series Rating: 18+ Chapter Contains: swearing, sexual scenes Pairing: f/genderfluid BeMo Masterlist ☆ Writing Masterlist

A/N: If you reblog this, PLEASE DO NOT TAG IT AS WEND*GO! This is not a wend*go. While the leshen in this story might shift and appear similar to the common image of a one, it’s completely unrelated to any of the Indigenous Americans’ folklore of said creature. Sure, it’s a more well known tag than leshen, but that’s not the point. If I see you tagging this as wend*go, you’re gonna get blocked.

— — —

My limbs stung like hell as heat returned to them. Sitting up was a struggle, but I needed to move, needed to get my circulation up. I didn’t recognize where I was. It was a cozy log cabin a bit smaller than my own home. I didn’t remember how I got here.

After escaping the castle of some murderous vampires, I hopped on my broom and started my way home. I avoided the train, knowing they’d look for me there. Flying would take longer, but I was banking on the vampires checking my home and moving on by the time I got there. I also banked on Vérus not putting up with any lookout they might try leaving.

My broom was only able to carry me a few hours away before it needed to recharge. By then I was well into the woods. I took my cloak from my haversack to keep warm. While I didn’t need to worry about its warmth spell running out, it wasn’t a true solution against the cold. I quickly realized my folly in my rushed decision to stay off the beaten paths. There were plenty of dead branches around for a fire. But without some sort of shelter, this situation would quickly become as deadly as the one I just escaped from.

Someone had to have rescued me. But who? And how far off my path had they taken me?

“Hello?” I tentatively called out. The only things I heard were the crackling fire and the wind hissing outside.

Walking sent needles up through my legs. I wobbled my way through the house, checking the rooms, finding no one. The smell of fresh bread led me to the kitchen. There was a small loaf sitting on the table, cooling on a cloth, and the sight of it made my stomach grumble.

“Help yourself.”

I screamed and whipped around. I tripped over my feet and my hip met the edge of the table. Ignoring the pain burning in my side, I met the concerned eyes of a moth. If I had met them outside, I would have easily mistaken them for a snow sculpture if they stood still. Even their robes were icy white.

“Careful.” They tentatively held out a hand towards me, ready to assist. “Take it slow. You’re safe here. My name is Theophania.”

“Hello.” I bowed my head; it was a bit late for greetings but better than never. “You can call me Witch.”

“What were you doing in the woods?”

“Running from death.”

“Well you nearly meet it anyways.” She went to the fireplace and removed the lid from the cauldron hanging over the fire. The rich scent of stew wafted around me. “Soup is nearly done. Please, relax. You can eat in here or out on the couch. You can even eat while in the bath, if you so choose.” She laughed lightly to herself as she stirred the stew.

“I’m sorry, but where exactly am I?”

Theophania set down the spoon and replaced the lid on the cauldron. She turned and looked at me, her eyes haunting voids that revealed nothing. Her antenna, however, drooped back, giving me a sense of unease. “You’re in der Schwarzwald. Or Feldberg Forest, as most outsiders call it.”

You’ve heard tales of these woods. The forest was an entity of its own, one obstinately set against letting any society try to tame it. It wasn’t a place to go wandering. Tales say, if you were lucky, you’d just wander for endless hours and end up roughly where you started. If you weren’t lucky, the woods would become your grave. It was hard to say what stories were true and what ones were fanciful tales for entertainment.

As my situation sunk in, Theo slowly nodded. “Rest up. You’ll be meeting the waldschrat soon.”

Waldschrat—who or what was that?

Theo was a lovely host during the two long days before I met the waldschrat. She gave me space, cooked phenomenal meals, and it was beyond cozy to snuggle with her on the couch while drinking tea.

While all that was nice, it didn’t dissuade my anxiety.

I knew it was time the moment Theo walked into the room. Her antennas were down flat and she held her hands tightly in front of her. I threw on my cloak and boots and followed her out.

The walk was silent, save for the crunching of snow under my feet. I thought of using my broom but now didn’t feel like the time to use any magic. Gods, the silence was imposing. Did anything else live in these woods? There were no other houses along our walk. I didn’t even find eyes watching from the shadows.

Theo stopped and I almost ran into her. My focus had been scattered everywhere else but snapped to mass of branches and moss in front of us. There was no snow on it. She grabbed my arm and yanked me down to my knees like her. Curse the freezing snow. As soon as she released me, I adjusted my cloak under the knees to fight against the chill.

The air rushed from behind us and swirled in a mini cyclone around the snowless mound. Then it moved. The mound grew and contorted, taking on the form of a satyr. A nightmarish satyr. A skull emerged from the branches, a raccoon I think. Blue fire sparked to life in its eyes. Ah. Waldschrat must be their term for leshen, I thought.

“Sorcerer,” crept a voice, like a whisper grew legs and skittered around like a frantic bug. “How did you come by my favor?”

It would be easier to answer if I knew what their favor was. The leshen approached, shifting as they did. Now they looked like a cervitaur with a fox skull—still nightmarish too. They hooked a claw under the twig necklace. Clarity struck. “A vampire named Aleril gave it to me before I fled Castelul Corvinilor.”

“Ah. Him.” They pulled their claw away, letting the necklace fall against my skin. It no longer felt like metal. I wanted to look, to see if it was different now, but I didn’t dare look away from the leshen. “Tell me, sorcerer. Can you cast a Grand Rite?”

“I can.”

“Then how about a bargain? I shall take you to the edge of my woods, if you perform the Rite.”

“Forgive my forwardness—why do you need a Grand Rite?”

The leshen shifted again to an amorphic mound of underbrush and detritus. “Sustenance has become scarce. I am hoping the Rite will help aid in the matter.”

Surely there were better rituals than the Grand Rite for such a thing, but I didn’t argue. “Has a druid not been able to help?”

“There’s no longer any close enough to bargain.”

“I see.” I wasn’t sure how much help I could be. I wanted to help; but as a witch, I wasn’t sure if what they were offering would equal the payment for such a ritual. I called to the Grand Scales. The ibis was sitting in its nest and regarded me for a long moment before making its decision. As I thought, the ritual required more. Hopefully the leshen won’t mind. “I can perform the Rite. However, as I am a witch, my magic will cost more than just safe travel.”

Judging by how they shifted back to a looming, monstrous form complete with wolf skull, I’d say the leshen wasn’t fond of my response. “What are your demands then?”

It was taking everything I had not to shiver. “As this is your forest, I’ll need you to participate in the Rite with me and lend some of your magic to the spell.”

They cocked their head like a quizzical animal. “Is that all?”

“No,” I hesitated. “I’ll need a spell in return.”

“What spell?” they growled.

Finding words was difficult now. “The Scales weren’t very… concise on that part. But there’s some spell you know that I apparently require.” When they didn’t respond, I rambled on. “Of course, I wouldn’t teach the spell with anyone else; and I swear by the Grand Scales to not abuse it. Or maybe you could just cast it for me when I need it, that way you don’t even have to teach it—”

“Very well,” they cut me off.

The rest of the day, and into the next, everyone prepped for the ritual. There were a surprising number of forest folk now. Mostly, they gathered enough ribbon for the maypole—and dying more red ribbon. Some prepared food for a small feast afterwards. All simple work, but time consuming.

When it was time for the ritual, it was amazing to see how beautiful the ritual space was. Eight saplings circled the center, stretching up and meeting in the center to form a cage around the area I’d perform the Rite. At the top of the trees, the ribbons were secured in a red-white alternating pattern. Faerie lights bobbed around, giving off gentle light.

I approached the central area and noticed delicate runes carved into the saplings. In the middle laid a bed of furs. Hopefully they’d be enough to keep me warm because I wouldn’t be able to rely on my cloak during the ritual. I sat down and started meditating, getting into the proper headspace.

By the time I was ready, the leshen was already patiently waiting beside me in a humanoid form with an elk skull. “You ready?” I asked.

“At your leisure,” they nodded.

I removed my robe and shivered as goosebumps instantly covered my body—skyclad outside in winter was a bitch. I settled before my singing bowl, thankful for the furs. I picked up the mallet, hit the edge three times, then slowly drew the mallet around the rim of the bowl. The hum hung in the air as I carried out the start of the ritual. Just before the note died out, I rang the bowl three more times.

Then the band kicked up. Okay, it wasn’t much of a band, but there were enough drums, a couple fiddles, and a flute to make a nice tune. Other members of the forest took up their ribbons. I moved over to the leshen and straddled over them. They already shifted their form appropriately. Then, on cue, the forest dwellers started weaving the maypole ribbons as I lowered myself down onto the leshen’s phallus.

A creature like a leshen had no need for sex, so I wasn’t surprised by their lack of skill. But I was fine with doing all the work. It actually made it easier to channel the magic that way. I leaned forward, splaying my hands across their chest and pushing them down. This position was much better than lotus. A growl rumbled from the leshen. Then they grabbed my hips and met my rhythm. Either they were a quick learner or I was very wrong about my initial assumption.

I was not complaining.

The leshen surprised me further when I felt a large press against my entrance. I let out a gasp then glanced down between my legs. Before, the leshen’s phallus had been basic and human. Now it had a lovely knot towards the base of the shaft.

“Would you prefer I changed back?” they asked.

“No, it’s fine. I was just surprised.” I pushed down and relished how the knot stretched me. It was even more delightful as it popped in and out of me as I continued riding them. How was this the first time I fucked someone with a knot? Sure, I had a dildo or two with them, but they obviously didn’t have the same wonderful power that the leshen was putting into their thrusts.

“Fuck me from behind,” I panted. If I wasn’t so focused on the ecstasy I would have been more impressed—and maybe a bit creeped out—by how the leshen simply flowed and shifted, reforming behind me while they never stopped thrusting deep into me.

Perks of a shifter species.

Another great thing was that, since the leshen was mostly wood, it felt like I was being spanked with a paddle with each pump. Would they leave my ass red and bruised? The thought sent a rush of excitement pulsing through me.

I wouldn’t be surprised if I came before the maypole finished.

Holding myself up grew difficult. I slid down onto my forearms, my face burying into the warm furs. I no longer needed their warmth. My fingers dug into the fur as moan after moan rocked out of me. I was drowning in bliss.

The leshen’s grip constricted tight around my lower body. I wasn’t sure about them, but I wasn’t going to last much longer. Between the knot, the paddling, and the tight binding… Damn, this had been such a turn of events. I was grateful now for all the circumstances that led to this wonderful Rite.

My orgasm hit and washed through me, blocking out the world for a moment. After the initial wave of pleasure, I focused and weaved the energy we had built for the spell. The leshen release their grip and sat back on the furs beside me. I gradually got to my feet—with a little help from them—and finished off the ritual. If this Rite didn’t help bring fertility to this forest, I had no idea what would.

With the ritual done, I plopped back down on the furs, stretched, then curled up on my side. “I’m going to take a nap now, if that’s alright.”

The leshen leaned over and nuzzled my hair. They pulled my discarded cloak over me before settling against my back. “Rest well, little one.”

— — —

A/N: If you reblog this, PLEASE DO NOT TAG IT AS WEND*GO! This is not a wend*go. If I see you tagging this as such, you’re gonna get blocked.

BeMo Masterlist ☆ Writing Masterlist Story: Previous — Next

#monster love #exophilia #exophilia fiction #writeblr #leshen #shifter #forest monster #forest king #forest guardian #ancient one #old god

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