#but i can’t deny that i started performing the thought experiment of ‘how would i feel if i was him right now’ and the answer is uh AWESOME
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diffenbachiae · 4 months ago
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crying at the kitchen table cause i can’t figure out what’s going on with me gender-wise like suddenly i can’t stop questioning everything about myself and my presentation and what it means and what i am REALLY and none of my clothes feel comfortable anymore and i want to cut off all my hair but what if this all goes away in a week ???
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blackbat05 · 3 months ago
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The Gall of HeR!
Evan Buckley x Reader (Gender not Specified)
Plot: You come back home feeling blue from work. Luckily, Buck is there to lend you some support.
Genre: PG-13
A/N: New character! Only started watching 9-1-1 last year but wasn’t in the best back then. It’s been such a huge support to get where I am today so it’s only appropriate to do this! Also I can’t deny this is based on actual experience recently so this is my way of therapy😂 In all seriousness, note to self to always fight for myself because no one will do it for me.
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“Hey! I’m home!”
Buck pads out of the kitchen in his “kiss the cook apron” that Eddie gave him as a Christmas Present last year as a joke.
“How’s work?”
I sigh, putting my bag to one side before unceremoniously dumping myself on the couch. “It was good, and then it was bad. Do I make sense?” My nose crinkles in confusion and I at that point I wished that my brain would stop running at a hundred miles per hour. Though, a part of me really needed to vent my feelings in a safe space. Buck was my safe space.
“They approached me for a possible promotion at the Library.” I start and Buck’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, that was my reaction. Inside. I didn’t expect this at all.”
Buck comes to sit beside me on the couch, body angled to face me fully. I take a deep breath and proceeded to explain how I had to ground myself first, to hear more details from HR before committing to that decision.
“So, I had that first meeting with Esther and obviously I needed time to process right? I didn’t understand some points that were raised and I wanted to clarify with her what some things meant to I called a second meeting the next day.” I explained. “The second meeting goes fine. It mostly involved her clarifying my doubts. Then after the meeting, she sends me an email noting all the things we discussed, and guess what?” I find the rage in the pit of my stomach bubbling.
“She adds in the extra clause that initially, they thought of reverting me back into my original position if things didn’t work out. But after considering the company’s position, if I did not perform or if I decided not to continue, I would have to leave the company!” My voice gets higher with each passing second. Buck reaches out to grab my hand, a soothing reminder that I was not in the library reading that darned email but I was here, with him.
“And then, Esther had the gall to storm into the library and yell at me what I meant when I sent that email and now she’s in trouble with the higher ups! My fault? How is expressing my opinions in a professional manner my fault?”
I finish off telling Buck that I wasn’t afraid of taking on the challenge. But my biggest issue was only being informed of this only after my second meeting and when I bought up the possibility of not taking on the role to her.
“Wow.” Buck purses his lips. I look at him reproachfully.
“You think I’m acting up too.”
“No. I think you’re standing up for yourself. No matter what others may say or think. It’s good that you question everything that’s being presented to you least you be taken advantaged.”
“Even if it means they might pass me up on this because they think I’m such a prima donna?”
Buck laughs. “In all seriousness. There are more ways to grow than besides promotions at work. You’re growing as a person and that’s more important. Do what you want to do and always do it for yourself.”
You don’t know what you did to deserve this man in this lifetime. Someone who supported you no matter what. That’s what you really needed right now.
“Thanks Buck,” you threw yourself into him for a hug. “I think I really needed to hear that. After all those times of doubting myself, I really needed to hear it.”
“Hey, you know I’m always your biggest supporter. Now let’s go and have dinner. Bobby taught me how to make this lasagna and we are not about to let it get cold.”
“Gosh, what would I do without you?”
“You’ll never have to know.”
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dreamyrat · 5 months ago
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now that i’ve written about sappy functional middle aged labru i’m thinking about more realistic and sad scenarios…
kabru who gets married young and has children because HEAR ME OUT he believes it makes him more trustworthy than being a bachelor… not quite aware of why he feels the need to appear as normal as possible around others and encouraging laios to do the same… continuing to be unaware of his feelings for laios, writing it off as purely sexual and therefore easy to deny and ignore, despite the fact that he’s closer to laios than anyone.
laios never marrying because the idea of disrupting the status quo is uncomfortable, since he just got used to being king and kabru’s family. also fundamentally disagreeing with kabru’s opinion on needing to get married just for the sake of others, by extension never having to confront his attraction to kabru, even being afraid to get near it mentally. thinking that his jealousy and insecurity stems purely from the threat of losing his closest friend and confidant, DEFINITELY no other reason.
I think kabru would marry a working class woman rather than nobility because they can relate to each other better, the idea they both have to serve people in some capacity, and all the turmoil and triumph that comes with that. I imagine kabru performing the role of doting father and husband very well. his wife loves how attentive he is and how he notices things about her no one else ever has. he’s patient but stern with the kids and earnestly connects with them. until he ultimately burns out and his wife realizes he can’t be honest with her, despite years of trying to get him to open up. up until that point his romantic relationships had all been fun and non committal, and she took pride in the fact she made him want to settle. she never could fully explain what was off about their relationship, because he really was very kind and loving, until she realizes how deeply kabru has repressed his emotions and cant help but question everything and feel she fundamentally misunderstood kabru as a person…
maybe a near death experience with laios triggers it, and kabru’s unable to take care of himself completely, he can’t mask his fear and neurosis and rage anymore, he can’t eat or sleep until he’s okay. he throws himself into his work and refuses to acknowledge that he is struggling when she asks him about it. her realizing that despite kabru’s best efforts to love her and care for her, his relationship with laios is more emotionally intimate than theirs, will always be what drives him and centers him, and she shouldn’t have to compete with that… she obviously mourns what she thought their marriage was, and can’t help but feel betrayed, but overtime starts to feel a deep empathy for him.
I guess I want to explore how kabru’s social dexterity has the potential to be just as destructive as laios’ social ignorance… even though they both have the best intentions and care about others.
when his wife divorces him, he is forced to be honest with laios about why she left, and he has immense guilt over not being able to love her correctly, about being fundamentally flawed and strange, the child that was raised to be a perfect doll, the monster kid no one wanted to play with, how his efforts to compensate for his innate wrongness blew up in his face anyway, which obviously laios can relate to better than anyone.
I think they would dance around each other after that, both now fully aware of the attraction but being so practiced in the art of denial they dont know what to do. It just feels so good to have it out in the open, they forgot that they can actually do something about it. Also kabru feeling like he shouldn’t be allowed to indulge after causing so much pain.
when they finally do get together, it’s surprisingly shy and chaste at first, like they are scared to face the depth of their desire and the years they wasted. it’s slow until it’s not, and everything bubbles to the surface, and they have mind blowing autistic sex. lol.
as for his children i think laios always really liked them as their weird uncle and since he has no heirs, he’d leave his kingdom to them. I’m not sure if kabru’s ex wife would be able to have a relationship with kabru after they get together, but maybe… maybe they could be friends.
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kunekojo · 2 years ago
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Hii, I'm not sure if you write for these characters so I'm a little nervous, I read the list of ideas and I was wondering if you could write what it would be like to give a massage to zangetsu (including the hollow) and also to Ichigo, nsfw pls ^^♡
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Heyyaaa, please don't be nervous! To be frank, I hardly started writing seriously a week ago and most stuff I felt like writing was Shunsui and Kisuke. So please, there's no need to be nervous about a few characters I did not yet write for! Honestly, I'm so sorry for taking this long but I wanted to make sure this comes out good
There's always room for more ^-^ I sincerely hope this is to your liking and that I did them justice.
NSFW Massage with Zangetsu (featuring Hollow Ichigo) and Ichigo x Fem!Reader
Warning: NSFW
Zangetsu
“You seem terribly stiff.” you point from behind as you carefully study the hint of restraint in his muscles.
“Do I?” Zangetsu turns his head and asks bluntly, a little taken aback by your remark.
“Yes, quite a lot.”
He can’t quite understand your capability to notice such tiny insignificant details, but it’s not unexpected of you given your observational skills. A little preoccupied with something else, he brushes this thought away. There’s no harm in restraint, so why should he be bothered by it? 
“It’ll go away.” his short response makes you slightly furious. You are aware that the situation is not severe, but it doesn't mean he shouldn't take care of himself just this one time.
You've just seen him at work the past two days, so a little extra attention shouldn't hurt. It just will only last for a short period of time, not more. You reach out and seize his hand as you watch him turning to leave, which causes him to look at you bewilderedly as you clutch him tightly.
“I know but, can’t you let me take care of it? I promise it’ll be so much better afterward.” your pleading places him in utter confusion, what can you possibly do to ease up such a minor inconvenience? 
Truthfully, it does cause him plenty of discomforts but not enough to halt him from tending to his work. Still, he can’t deny his curiosity, rather because he can hardly imagine what cure you might possibly hold. 
“Take care of it? How?” he mouths softly, erasing some of the gaps between you two with tiny steps.
Zangetsu watches you silently with stern eyes holding a hint of intrigue, urging you to go ahead and speak. 
“Would you let me give you a massage?” you offer timidly but the excitement in your eyes tells him this isn’t only about his back pain. But that won’t make him not take up your offer, especially since you give him your usual look of anticipation.
It doesn’t take him much to nod in agreement. He may not hold an interest in massages but if it’s something you wish to perform on him, he won’t reject it. However, his quick confirmation places you under so much cheerfulness that you immediately lead him to the bed. You signal him to take off his upper cloth and he quickly does it, placing it as neatly as possible on the nearest table. 
“You’re going to enjoy it, trust me,” you reassure him to which he gives you a content hum and a slight smile beams on his face.
“Alright, I trust you.”
Once he stays still, you place your hands on his back, gently propping him closer to the softness of the matter. It feels so intimate to have him so close that you don't want to remove your hands from him. You even grease your fingers to make the experience better for him, but when you press against the sensitive portion of his skin, you can hear him groan. Even so, you don't feel any discomfort in his voice; rather, you hear maybe a hint of... Pleasure? It truly surprises you, making you want to look for additional places to hear him again.
Again, you stroke the appropriate area, but this time his grumbling is a bit louder, and Oh god, you almost seem to be enjoying it a little too much. Your cheeks are already burning red, but you try to contain it for a little longer to explore more of his body.
“Move your hand a little lower.” his low-toned voice stuns you but you comply with his request.
Fingers creeping lower against his skin, you press gently enough for him to let out a pleased hum. Then, you slowly make your way around his waist and swirl gentle long-pressed motions. Although you don't really know anything about massages, he seems to be enjoying himself as he guides you around just with the noises he’s making.
The feel of his muscles’ tenderness makes you want to wander around his front but this isn’t about you following your desires, it’s about giving him a good time. However, you can’t help but think about the image of you trailing along his chiseled pecs, deepening your touch with each grunt he gives. The way you’d caress his stiff shoulder, pressing yourself into him to grasp him from behind. You feel a fine tingle in your lower as your daydream’s features grow a little descriptive with the possibility of taking care of him in ways he likes. 
The huff of his voice snatches your attention and you’re back to reality. You hear slightly ragged breaths coming from him and you wonder what’s going on. But as you pay a little attention around, you notice you’ve accidentally bent over his back with your hands tightly wrapped around his abs. 
How did it get like this? You question yourself, a little embarrassed with your stunt. Feeling bad, you toss your body back but he’s quick to seize one of your arms, not letting go of you. His firm grip makes you gasp and right when you’re readying yourself to mumble an apology, he cuts you off.
“No, keep going.” he demands with a faint groan, bringing your hand back to where it was and you comply, drawing soft-pressed traces. Did you just make him horny? You must find out.
You lean forward and rest your head on his shoulders out of curiosity, letting your gaze drift down to his groin where you are surprised to see the prominence of his pulsing member. Its slight twitching makes your walls clench, urging you to gradually lower your hand. Zangetsu hums in satisfaction as you gently make your way to his downward and right when you’re close in range to it, he pushes his hand into yours and settles it on his crotch. 
The sensation of his twitches makes you wonder how much he’s waited for you to touch him like that, but now it doesn't matter because you'll take proper care of his trouble. As another grunt squeaks out of his mouth, you teasingly wrap your fingers around his cock and stroke along the created line there. 
You can feel the impatience in his motions, but once you draw your lips closer to his ears, you whisper. “Shhh, don’t worry, I’ve got you.” you can’t see the expression on his face but the relaxation of his tensed build helps you picture it.
You can’t bear to play with him, so you swiftly reach for his pants and unbuckle them open. When you slide your hand underneath his underwear and softly pull his throbbing cock out, Zangetsu breathes heavily, making you wonder how much it’ll take for him to burst. 
You glide your hand across his shaft, jerking it at a slow pace but the sudden tightening of his hand around yours makes you jolt. You open your eyes and stare confusedly only to notice the coming of an unfamiliar chuckle. 
“Grip it tighter.” the hollow urged you, steadying your own pace and you tried to keep with him. 
His appearance takes you by surprise but not as much as previously and just by the shift of the atmosphere you can tell how much this situation will escalate. This thought makes you smile and you can barely wait to see just what’ll happen next. 
Once he deems your jerks quick enough, his hand moves away, finding comfort close to your thigh. He bents his back to place it between your thighs as his fingers blindly reach for your cunt to shove soft presses. You gasp at how much he’s deepening his thrusts, slightly messing with your pace but you’re quick to compose yourself. 
You both touch yourself rhythmically, panting with each heavy stroke either of you performs. But you can tell he’s much closer to his arrival than you, given he was the last to handle you. It compels you that you’ve got the upper hand so you must make sure he cums first at all costs. 
You quickly move your palm up and down while letting out a small gasp as bubbles of cum begin to form on his tip. As you tighten your hold, he tosses his head back, giving you the opportunity to go faster.
You jerk him a couple more times and loudly pant in his ear, causing him to hunch his hips and slither as liquid rapidly drops down his cock and dribbles onto his jeans. He exhales quickly and appears to be about to fall over, but just as he turns to face you, you pull away from him, grinning in anticipation. 
You can foresee his words just by the way he’s glancing at you intently as if he’s readying to do so much more.
“Now’s my turn.” He smiles mischievously and borders you in his arms.
Ichigo
“Ouch.” you hear him right next to you.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. I think I pressured my muscles too much.” Ichigo replies, rubbing his chest but the noise of another pained gasp makes you clutch his pecs.
You massage the area with gentle pressings but despite feeling his soreness worsen, your touch gradually eases him up.
You swing your hand around as he's carefully observing your motions and he can’t help but wonder where you learned to do that.
“There, is this better?” You ask, parting your lips whilst you watch him closely for any more signals.
Your voice makes him lower his head to look at you, but when sees you staring at him with wide-open eyes and not halting your hands, a wave of warmth surges through him. The way you rub him feels so good that he can’t put into words how great it is but hum contently instead.
“Yeah, it is.” He approves, drawing his face close to your lips to place a smooth kiss. “Thank you.”
But right when he’s about to pull away, you tightly grasp his shirt.
“Hold up, where do you think you’re going?”
“Huh? What do you mean? It doesn’t hurt anymore.” He insists with furrowed brows, confused with the way you’re not letting him go. What was more to do?
“I know but it doesn’t mean there’s no need to prevent it.” You protest, a little unsure if massages work that way but it’s worth a shot.
You follow him with intent eyes, hinting that he has no choice but play along. You really won’t give up until he gets that massage, won’t you? Ichigo sighs in slight amusement at how precautious you are, giving into your wish. After all, it’s a pretty good feeling so why not have it for a little longer.
“Fine.” He agrees as a soft smile builds on his face as your trailing softens his body, filling him with a craving to feel you linger across his skin for much longer.
“Good, but I need you to remove your shirt.” Your implication takes him aback, stunning him momentarily.
“What? Can’t you just do it like this?” The timidness in his voice makes you chuckle, how can you tend to him properly with material slipping between your fingers? “It can't be any different with my shirt off.”
“No, silly. There has to be no obstacle for this to be effective.” Your explanation sounds a little far off but he doesn’t really want you to stop at this point. But the way you indicate it'll feel better makes him burn with a little intrigue. “Or I can just leave you be and-“
“No.” The shifting in his voice makes you blink at him curiously. It takes you by surprise just how quick he replied and you can’t help yourself but wonder what made him change his mind?
You lean toward him to observe him better but the look of pleasure in his eyes tells your traces are simply that good. However, the way he watches you so tensely gives you a vibe of uncertainty.
“Are you sure? Ichi?” you search for his reassurance which he provides by gently pulling your hand away so he can take out his shirt.
“Yes, Y/N. Don't worry, go ahead.” he smoothly presses your fingers against his chest and you gaze back at him, returning to your pace.
Feeling his muscles so plainly helps you rub him better than before, thing you're able to tell by the way his body relaxes. You focus all your concentration on the area but Ichigo can't seem to look anywhere else but at you, as you do your little performance. His eyes dart to your face and stay to observe your firm expression with great interest. But when you part your lips as you lose yourself in touching him, he can't take his glance away from their tenderness.
Have your lips always been this fleshy? He wonders, desiring to run his finger across them to test it out, but he won't interrupt you when you're this focused. Still, his mind does the trick for him, picturing how you would probably lift your head to look into his eyes. It's the image of your expression that brings more warmth in him, so much that your fingers running down his chest worsen it.
But he can't compose himself at this point, not even after he sways his stare toward your firm hand.
The sudden sensation of his hand lifting your head causes you to stop with a gasp, but as he presses his lips against yours, you do nothing but indulge yourself in his taste. With your hand unmoved, you clutch his muscles as his other hand wraps around your waist, gradually pulling you closer.
The drive in him to do this makes you question whether this was a consequence of your massage but the deepening of his kiss causes a jolt of arousal to run through your veins.
Ichigo makes sure he leaves no corners of your mouth untouched whilst you grant him the pleasure to explore inside. The heat of the moment makes you both pant into each other’s mouths, lingering for more.
Holding you, he slowly leans you down to lie on the mattress and moves his hands along your curves.
“Ichigo.” you let out a faint moan as he halts the kiss by lifting himself to observe you from above.
The red hue flushing your cheeks makes his stiffening member throb. Watching you beautifully laid down fills him with a desire to make more noises escape from you. But how should he do it? He ponders but soon sees your thighs rubbing against each other in search of a stimulus.
“Y/N, please spread your legs.” he pleads, unable to take his focus away and upon hearing him, you hum and comply.
Hands reaching for your lower, he hastily takes your clothes off, and once he’s left with the sight of your wet folds, his mouth rushes to your love box. His hands go under your legs to settle them to rest on his shoulders while his mouth begins brushing your sex.
The feeling of his firm tingles makes you squirm below him, providing him with what he wanted. You feel the tip of his tongue caress your clit with pressed strokes and moan with each circling he performs.
“Oh, Ichigo,” you whine, placing your hand on his head to push him deeper. He wants to hear more of that.
But right as he savors your sweetness, he finds the right pace once you let a sharp cry out. Ichigo quickens his motions, occasionally sucking your clit. His grip around your legs tightens with each tremble you make, giving more music to his ears. He can't get enough of your juices, greedily eating you out to get more.
His tongue moves so well around your slick folds and makes you toss your head back as shivers run down your spine. But he's doing such a great job that you can't restrain your hips more not to buckle into his mouth, begging him to make you cum. God, the way he will make you cum.
Your toes curl while the incoming climax makes you seize his hair harshly, and once you shout his name fiercely, he helps you ride through your orgasm.
Your body quivers profoundly in his touch, but the placements of smooth kisses over your cherry make you gasp with how sensitive you are.
“So good.” Ichigo mumbles, lifting himself to look over how good he made you feel.
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kanene-yaaay · 3 months ago
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Lending a Helping Hand (Tickletober Day 1)
Kanene's Notes: I wrote this on a whim, not gonna lie jhgtfdefghjdfgh. For some reason I suddenly felt compelled to participate of this lovely even so here I am! I am following both @/august-anon tickletober list and @/Jamiedraws mxtxtober list because I wanted to see what would come out of mixing those two together juygtfghjdcfgh I think most of my stories will be about mdzs so it seemed fitting :D Anyways, Day 1 - "Ghost" and "Antecipation".
Warnings: This is an AU. Ticklish!Jingyi and Ler!Wei Wuxian. Around 1.500 words.
[~*~]
The Patriarch Yiling was a devious monster, an empty shell of what had been once considered a man but now was known for atrocities beyond human comprehension. The sects still shivered at his name, parents used his story to make their children behave and other demonic cultivators dreamed of following his path, in archiving and surpassing the amount of power he once had. Every book that talked about The War talked of him. 
(But Hanguang Jun didn’t. He cut down every gossiping and always reminded them to have a critical mind when it came about the stories of one being told by another.)
But (almost) everyone could agree, he was a monster, and it was naive, crazy, even to believe you could win against him.
Jingyi was about to discover how crazy it was.
"Senior Wei!" He squirmed and ordered his hands to move, voice already trembling around the corners and getting a squeaky turn. It was all for nothing, just like before his own arms no longer answered him. Hysterical snickers began falling from his lips. "Stohohop! Why me?!"
"Well, you offered!" the ghost smiled and moved his hands towards him and with a scared kind of curiosity he watched as his own hands mirrored his move, wiggling fingers perfectly mirroring the older one in every mischievous twitch, getting closer until it was barely touching his clothes, still. The clear promise of a tickle attack made shivers run like electricity through his nerves. "Aiya, Jingyi! So young and your memory is betraying you already? Don’t you remember how you came to me so excited this morning, saying you wanted to help experimenting with my new ideas?"
Jingyi half groaned and half giggled. In his defense, it was very hard to try to remember something when a single finger decided to poke his ribs and make him dance from a side to another like he was performing the silliest of the dances. "Senior Wei!"
"Almost! Now repeat that but with less I-am-about-to-get-destroyed-by-ghost-tickles feeling. Don’t worry, I’ll help you remember.” Then, the ghost started doing a high pitched voice that sounded nothing like him. Jingyi would be bristling in protest if the (his?) hands found the horribly ticklish spot right next to his stomach and was trying to pinch it senseless. “'Senior Wei, Senior Wei! My classes have been canceled, can you believe? I can stay here with you the entire day!'" 
“This is not…” hs snorted and started to squirm even more, feeling himself slip more and more into titters. “Behehihing tickled to death was nohohot what I-I meheheant!"
Wei Wuxian chuckled mischievously, very much proud to realize that not even death took away his amazing tickling and teasing skills. He spent years honing it to perfect, afterall. “You should’ve been more clear, then. Or are you going back on your word, now? Tsk Tsk, and here I thought that the Lans prided themselves in their honor and fairness. Leaving a poor ghost here all alone, denying him his last wishes of experimenting and being happy before we part our ways. Refusing to even help me for a single day… Sniff. Where has the compassion gone in this new generation?"
Jingyi stomped his feet on the floor, protesting. The effect of it was dimmed by the giant smile going from ear to ear in his face. The hands now decided to “walk” with two fingers up and down his ribs, making his nerves dance with the anticipation and light tickling
"Y-you’re not going awahahay. And I can’t spend the entire day like this, stohohohop tickling me!"
“Tickling? I would never!” Wei Wuxian gasped and pulled his hands a few inches away from his skin, wiggling them in front of his face and giving the whole “ghost tickles” a new meaning as Jingyi squeaked and kept giggling uncontrollably, almost feeling this wiggling touch back on his torso. “See? I am not even touching you and you are still laughing, that has nothing to do with me.”
“I am nehehever-” his face was starting to get hot, looking at the playful way Senior Wei looked at him with a merciless grin definitely didn’t help. The more the older one kept poking, playing, teasing him, the more he felt that he would crumble in the very moment the actual tickling started. “nehehever helping yohohour experiments agahain.”
"Aw, but you must, Jingyi! Aren't you excited to know what will happen? Who will win, your natural defenses or my attack? Shizui, Don't you think it's an important research to know if ghosts can make you tickle yourselves?"
"It's not!" Jingyi's protesting words disappeared in a shriek when his hands pretended to lunge to his body, clawing, only to stop to hover above his belly. More uncontrollable, protesting giggles fell like a waterfall from his mouth. "Thahahat's stupid. Shihihihihizui, tell him!"
Shizui, like the good, righteous kid he was, pretended he heard nothing of their banter and kept feeding the rabbits hopping around him. When Wei Wuxian turned away snickering and twirling around Jingyi teasingly, he sent his friend an apologetic smile.
Wei Wuxian continued with plenty of mirth and dramatics. Delighted as always to be free to exercise his pranking rights. "Is that how you talk with your seniors? Lan Jingyi, what would Hanguang-Jun say?"
"He wohohohould protect me!"
"Would he, now? So where's your Hanguang-Jun, huh? To take you out of the evil Patriarch Yilling’s claws."
“Nohohot evil. Stohohop it.”
Wei Wuxian’s grin softened, for a moment. Then he lightened up once more. “Maybe I could even tickle him when he appears! It would take me much more energy but can you imagine? Is Hanguang Jun even ticklish? Have you ever seen he gig-" The ghost stopped as if he had been his, going from looking thoughtful for a moment then startled and embarrassed. If Jingyi didn't know him better, he could say a flash of hunger appeared in his eyes. Probably he was already going crazy because of the antecipation, though.
"Anyway!" He clapped his hands and Jigyi's own followed his moves. He tried once more squirm free from it, but it was impossible to concentrate his qi enough to push away the... possession? Control? Whatever this was before Wei Wuxian got a hold of it once again.
A loud squeal flew from his mouth when a finger poked too close his bellybutton, and he immediately descended in stronger giggling. 
The smirk that opened in Wei Wuxian face was positively evil. 
"I think we found a good spot." He sing-songed, the finger started circling his bellybutton, lightly scribbling the trembling skin around it, pulling guffaws that stopped him from pulling his belly away from the ticklish touch. Everytime it tried to twitch away, the finger would poke and poke and poke the button until he was too distracted to protest. “Sehehehenior Wei, wait!”
For a blissful second, he did.
Somewhere near, someone was letting out the most high pitched, half disparate and half joyful laughter. Jingyi felt his entire body want to run away, to squirm and trash and laugh with all the energy he was holding still. Only when he opened one eye to look at the floating ghost in front of him and his childhood friend smiling softly in the background did he realize he was the one responsible for these sounds. 
A silly snort intertwined in his laughter.
Wei Wuxian tapped a finger on his lips, pensative.
“Should I? Should I wait a bit more?” The finger scraped the tiniest bit on the walls of his bellybutton and Jingyi jumped on the same place, nodding and giggling and snorting and making himself stand still so the tickling wouldn’t be worse. “Hmmm, let me think about it…”
The finger kept light touches, soft tickles grazing the horribly ticklish skin. Jingyi shook his head at it.
Until it finally stopped.
A breath of air, his snickers were still filling the air.
Wei Wuxian tsked. “No. I don’t think I will.” 
And then attacked. 
(Shrieking, mirthful laughter danced in the air.)
[~*~]
Something something wat if Lan Wangji palyed Inquiry and Wei Wuxian answered something something what if he became closer to Shizui and Jingyi and watched and helped them as they grew up something something what if those 13 years of waiting were filled with his laughter and love something something.
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randomnumbers751650 · 1 year ago
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I reached the most recent chapter of Oshi no Ko and I have to say it’s quite the trip. The way the author mixes so many things in a huge pot, wildly different things, creates a unique experience. The 2.5D play was really the highest point of the first part, because it played just like a standard shonen tournament arc, but a good one, where acting techniques were like signature attacks. But the real plot really starts after the Miyazaki trip, with the change in Ruby’s character. There will be spoilers in these unedited thoughts, so I'm just writing right from the brain.
I feel what attracts everyone most is that, in the end, it’s a tragedy. Aqua/Goro was born as an idol’s son, but one thing that always bothered me is how, in spite of being mentally a middle-aged man, Aqua acted like a child. He wasted his entire (second) childhood being obsessed with vengeance. It’s clear that he’s not well in the head. Seeing his half-brother calling him out so that he stop toying with Kana and Akane and he even realizes that he has nothing to live for but vengeance.
And then we learn why he acts like that. He didn’t really have a family, in spite of his grandma loving him and trying to help others in a way he was denied when he was a kid. It always bothered me how much Goro was a nobody; he was infatuated with Ai (in a meaning more ample than just “romantic”) in a situation that the term “idolatry” is more than fitting, in terms of character and I still think some of those things could be better foreshadowed. Revenge stories don’t tend to interest me, so I continued following his arc in spite of that, that’s why the Miyazaki arc was such a shock. I don’t take back what I said about him, especially because chapters later, he’s back on his thing. But his “adultness” showed when you compare to what happened with Ruby. A strange character that both pushes the plot forward and is pulled by it.
Her character arc was better foreshadowed. Her sharp tongue discussing in twitter in the beginning hits different after Miyazaki. In a short time, she goes from innocent to master manipulator and the public notices something changed and they love it – the idea that a girl must lose her innocence to be loved by all isn’t something new (does anyone remember Perfect Blue?), but they executed here in a quite somber way. This is girl having a nuclear, non-instantaneous emotional breakdown and everyone can’t just take their eyes.
It's also showing how it’s not just Aqua and Ruby that want to kill the one who killed Ai – Kamiki – but a lot of people. But the guy is really a serial killer. So the scale of the plan to get him is really impressive, to make a successful movie, mobilizing a massive quantity of resources, in which all the promises and compromises are being paid, sometimes with interest. And, as any tragedy goes, you can expect things aren’t going the way they’re expecting.
I criticized OnK before because, as well-written as it is, it cannot be free from the stereotype of “anime is for weird people”, with all those incest jokes. And then, in chapter 123, it surprisingly “pays off” (notice quotation marks). Serina falls in love with Goro because…honestly, she’s just a teenager who never loved and didn’t receive love from her parents since she was 4. Due to her terminal disease, she’d never have a significant one, that’s why I understand she had a crush on Goro, he’s the only one who showed affection for her. A “normal” girl would be like “oh, I said that when I was young, haha, that was a weird thing”, but Ruby isn’t a “normal” girl, because there was nobody to talk with her about these things – especially because Aqua was, again, manipulating people (I mean, it was obvious, right? To make her have a great performance as Ai, right?), just to get his objects. Even the Girl of Crows said “wow, this is going to my cringe compilation”, it’s obvious that this will be a wrench tossed in his plans, everything was going too smooth to be good.
But as someone said in this site, OnK is a story about how far the unloved would go. Ai, Aqua, Ruby, almost every named character has some degree of “unlovedness”.
And yet, one thing that I enjoyed how the characters are unique in the sense of how unrelatable they are. I think “unrelatable” might not be the best word, but we make a big deal of how characters should be relatable, but some of the most interesting characters are completely unrelatable. I recently played Project Wingman and why did Crimson 1 do what he did in the last mission? If you were playing attention to the plot, you'd know no one but Crimson 1 could’ve done that.
The things Aqua did aren’t things a normal person would do, but nobody in the world but him would do. We talk about “resist temptation”, but in reality it’s not hard for us to “resist the temptation”, but this temptation is made that no one in the world would fall, but them. I feel this is a path to make a character, especially a villain or an antihero, unique. Like Aqua, you can say “if I was in Aqua’s place, I’d do different” – even if the phrase may sound sanctimonious, that’s exactly the point! But then, it wouldn’t be the same story. Still, the characters make sense given the circumstance they’re given, that’s the sense of realistic a writer should aim – consistence in-universe.
Given the plot points, we’re approaching the end, I think. Personally, if the Girl of Crows (I also love how youkai/fair folk she is, she's there to make the plot happen and I say this in the best way possible) doesn’t end saying “humans are a bunch of bastards who can't live without drama”, I’ll be disappointed.
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widowsliver · 2 years ago
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hi, me again, u sounded so enthusiastic in your answer and your reply to my comment so i just had to ask : what was finsbury like for u? and go into detail, i just love to talk and hear about it so HIT ME WITH ALL THE THOUGHTS
THE THOUGHTS ARE THOUGHT-ING LIKE THEY’VE NEVER THOUGHT BEFORE. thank you so much for taking interest in my over-explained enthusiastic ramblings — I again apologise well in advance.
I also just want to preface incase anyone stumbles over this post, this is about my experience personally, and I recognise not everyone would’ve had the same experience as me. nether the less, everything shall be under the cut if you care to give it a read :)
okay, so I’ll start off by giving my experience getting into finsbury. we took the tube (and ran into another ‘75 fan on the way) and commuting was pretty easy (we were staying just outside of london, took us just over an hour to get to the park) and we got there just before 11am. if I remember correctly, I believe we were the second group of people to get into the holding area because of the concern of the crowd going onto the street, and from there it was pretty chill and the security that we ran into were all amazing and up for a laugh! the waiting did suck as they prolonged opening the gates but not much you can do about that, safety over everything!
as soon as we got in we ran to merch, grabbed a t-shirt and some scran and situated ourselves a row behind middle right pitch barrier — very happy with our spot (will include a video at the bottom) and the people around us were lovely.
onto the music!
After Life I thought were really good at opening and definitely got the crowds attention, kept thanking everyone for turning up early to see their set and it was appreciated. a very good performance overall!
Pretty Sick I admittedly did not pay that much attention too, although I don’t want that to be taken negatively, as it dawned upon me how many hours we were going to be there for. had to preserve battery lol.
American Football I will also admit was pretty similar, I was very concerned with scranning a milkshake… no regrets.
The Japanese House were the only one other than the 1975 that I would consider myself a pretty big fan of, and I’m pretty sure I cried at least twice. hearing ‘sunshine baby’ live whilst knowing I’d pre-ordered a personally signed copy of ‘in the end it always does’ was magical and amber herself blew me away with their vocals and presence on the stage. can’t wait to see them on tour.
Bleachers were probably my second favourite (not including the 1975) of the night. really great to watch on stage despite not being a fan and the energy the crowd was giving was immense!
Cigarettes After Sex although good, and I did enjoy, did feel a little out of place on the setlist. although I can obviously see why they were the last act before the headline, taking that out of consideration, I would’ve preferred to have watched cas after the japanese house, and then bleachers.
ladies and gentlemen… the 1975!
I don’t even know where to begin when talking about the 1975. from tim healy to people, I genuinely couldn’t have wished for a better show (although the nothing revealed / everything denied stan in me is praying for the day)
the opening. wow. although it was arguably obvious they were going to open with the 1975 (bfiafl), it didn’t make it any less impactful. hearing those chords striking that piano I’m convinced I felt it within my gut. absolutely breathtaking — and it set a high standard that was carried out throughout the entire night, completely electrifying.
to talk about the first ‘surprise’ of the night — ‘love me’. although I do preach being an abiior stan, iliwys also has a special place in my heart, ‘love me’ being my second favourite (after ballad… yeah) this is when I knew this gig wasn’t going to be topped by anything I’d previously seen!
‘part of the band’ will also get a mention here that despite being a regular on the setlist, reaches deeply into my heart. a tear was shed (and I had no clue what was to come).
“who gives a fuck this is too much fun!” matty’s little speeches honestly kept me going.
tim healy. tim healy singing my favourite song off of bfiafl. I thought I died and went to heaven right there. another crying mark.
also trying to kill me with ‘be my mistake’, this was a block of non stop sobbing.
oh, you thought you died right there?
HERE HAVE BALLAD!!!
at this point I was the luckiest woman ever that the couple we made friends with in-front of us let me swap with him so I was on the middle barrier. kindness from strangers is the best thing ever.
I genuinely don’t even know what to comprehend about ‘medicine’.
and as you can clearly see, having CARLY appear was not easing me down gently at all. doing this post has made me realise how the hell did I get out of there alive??
(I also went feral during ‘the sound’… not one of my proudest moments)
guys snippet… into iawds… as per my last post you can imagine what I was going through. the only thing that was running through my head was “I need to book my box tattoo appointment”
and now to wrap it up, ‘love it if we made it’ and ‘give yourself a try’ (and ‘sex’) being my all-time favourites and were the best way to end the gig…
until the 1975 to literally make me die dead right then and there when I heard the beat to ‘people’.
all in all, despite some people disagreeing, including consumption at the end really solidified the era and drew the door (or tv screen) to a close for one final time. your new era. your old friends.
(p.s the only negative thing I have to say is getting out of the park was an absolute fucking nightmare and made our journey three times longer, but seeing the 1975 definitely made it worth it and I’d do it all again)
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sciderman · 3 years ago
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so i thought too much about this.
i like the toxicity between peter and wade.
pete and wade could not have had a perfectly healthy romantic relationship with anyone bc they were so fucked up before they met each other. like if you think how much they’ve grown since the start of the blog…
they bring out the worst in each other but they’re willing to confront their worst when they’re with each other instead of repressing it like they did in the past. this might be the most communicative either of them have been in any of their partnerships.
these two are so codependent but it’s the main reason either of them improved at all.
most people would leave. and alone, they don’t leave their comfort zone, even if it’s miserable… these two push each other too far,,, they get uncomfortable. when it’s time to fight or fly,, they fight with each other for each other.
and it’s kind of comforting ?? maybe it’s my experience, but i think every close, long-term relationship has some hurt in it. you do your best to prevent but that doesn’t guarantee peace. and i think that’s okay? like an occasional struggle can be satisfying after the fact bc it’ll likely lead to some growth
so, idk.. i don’t hate the idea of there being some underlying toxicity between them. and it’s kind of satisfying to admit that
they bring out the worst in each other but they’re willing to confront their worst when they’re with each other instead of repressing it like they did in the past
you’re after my heart anon  
i wouldn’t go out and call them toxic, exactly - i feel like toxic means that there’s no hope for them and they’d be better off without each other and that’s - that’s not the case, i don’t think. they might be unhealthy - but toxic kind of implies they’re totally irredeemable. 
but you’re on the money, you’re on the money - they both share this trauma over being unworthy of love - they’re both so, so desperate to be loved but so, so convinced they’re undeserving of it, and they’ve both convinced themselves they have to hide or contort themselves in some way to fit some ideal. to become eligible for that happily ever after. 
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wade compulsively feels like he has to become someone else - put on a performance, become anything other than what he is, just so he can be deserving of love. 
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wade’s consistently frustrated that he can’t quite fit into any role. he tries - he really, really tries. he has a desire to transform - he tries to be anything his lover asks of him, or tries to become what he thinks they want. because he’s convinced that what’s underneath the mask is unloveable. 
and peter, peter’s just the same. he’s convinced if he puts all of himself on display, with all his faults and baggage and underlying ugliness - he won’t be loved. 
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so peter parker rejects and denies so much about himself, all for the sake of feeling like he can assimilate. he can pass by undetected. he can live an ordinary life, and keep his secrets locked away. 
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they both have these expectations for what love is and what it should look like - and i think being together, it’s forcing them to reevaluate what love really is. peter, finally, finally - is in a relationship where he doesn’t have to hide. 
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he can be ugly, he can be gross, he can be a freak and it’s celebrated by wade. wade wants all of him on display. but... to an extreme. 
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peter, on the other end of the spectrum, wants to see the authentic wade but is scared to push him. 
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he wants wade to unmask, constantly, but knows it’s something wade has to do on his own. 
they’ve really come so far, because peter’s learning so much about emotional sensitivity from his exposure to wade. because yep! historically, peter’s been a jerk and the reason his relationships fell apart was his inability to be honest about himself and a general ineptitude when it came to dealing with other people’s emotions. with wade - he’s forced to confront all of that, and become a better peter parker. one that’s emotionally sensitive, and one that’s making peace with himself and all his hang-ups. 
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wade forces peter to finally address all his shortcomings to become a better man - and peter does the same for wade in kind of - embodying everything wade wants to be. not only that - but being a presence in wade’s life that is ever-present
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he’s willing to wait it out until wade opens up on his own. just like wade did for him. 
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peter, for all his trouble finally embracing his authentic self - adores wade’s authentic self. loves what’s behind the mask. loves wade’s soft, soft core that he tries so hard to hide. underneath the machismo and the violence that they both hide behind. 
peter’s afraid if he pushes wade too far, he’ll lose him - whilst wade is doing the opposite - he’s actively pushing peter to see how much he can get away with before he loses him. 
i love them! they’re always at complete opposite ends of the spectrum when approaching issues, but they’re such similar animals with the exact same fears. 
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haru-chan702 · 3 years ago
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𝓚𝓝𝓨 𝓣𝔂𝓹𝓮𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓼 {𝓕𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻}
ʀᴇɴɢᴏᴋᴜ ᴋʏᴏᴊᴜʀᴏᴜ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1
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He is the type of guy who would let you have your experiences without helping you unless you ask him. It is a day like any other at the villas of the Pillars. Since Kyojuro is also your master, you decided you wanted to see and try to do a particularly difficult kata. He accepts and shows you one of Flame kata without explaining, at your request, how to do it. You both wanted to see if you can understand what to focus on. But after an hour of you were rehearsing, still nothing. He didn’t offer you his help and you didn’t ask him, but maybe a little suggestion… «Kyojuro…I need a hand…» «I thought you wanted to do it alone, otherwise I would have helped you for a while.» «I know, in fact I really wanted to do it alone. But not anymore…» «Oh ok.» He gets behind you and takes your hands to change your grip on the katana, then he explains how to breathe and lets you perform the technique that finally comes perfect.
He’s the type of guy who wouldn’t be jealous even if he saw you give in to an advance, because he knows you only love him.  You and Rengoku had gone to a village on a mission: some children were disappearing and you two thought there was a hand of a demon. Once in the city, being still day, you decide to have lunch and Rengoku immediately rushes into the first ramen restaurant he finds, dragging you inside. The cook is a boy of about Kyojuro’s age, very nice and polite. As soon as he sees you enter, his eyes light up and won’t stop staring at you for a second. «Do you want me to start making ramen for you now?» he asks you in a courteous tone approaching your table always staring at you. «Yes, thank you, we are very tired.» you say. «How can such a beautiful girl walk in this sun? It’s a horrible thing.» «Oh well I…» you blush slightly. No one had ever called you “beautiful” apart from your boyfriend and you couldn’t deny that hearing from someone else was pleasant. You smile gently and thank for the compliment by pulling a lock of hair behind your ears. «With a smile like that, the sun can only be ashamed.» continues the boy, making you become more and more red. «You’re very kind. You too are a handsome boy.» you say trying not to make him misunderstand everything.Once he’s gone, you look at Rengoku expecting a scene, but you see him smiling as usual. «My Y / N fell in love ~» he teases you. «I-I’m you girlfriend, baka!» «Well he’s a handsome boy, isn’t he?» «Yah, he is…but it’s not you. And if a boy doesn’t has the name of Rengoku Kyojuro, I don’t want him.» You see him blush slightly and then cover his eyes with one hand. «Thank you..» you hear him murmur and then he takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours. «I know you love only and only me, but hearing it is a beautiful thing.» You smile and squeeze his fingers.
He’s the type of guy who would forgo his lunch to give it to you.  You and Rengoku went on some kind of trip with Tanjiro and Nezuko. Between workouts and missions, no one ever had time for recreation, so your teacher thought it was a good idea to get you off a bit. Only at lunchtime, you noticed that you didn’t get enough food and one of the three wouldn’t eat. Since you are too selfless and a little selfishness wouldn’t hurt you, you sacrifice yourself. “Besides, I ate a lot for breakfast. I can last until the evening.” At the time of eating… You serve the food and sit next to the Nezuko box. «Ittadakimasu!» both your boyfriend and Tanjiro exclaim. «UMAI!» Kyojuro yells as he tastes what you have prepared. «Y / N…but you don’t eat?» Tanjiro asks you. «I made a mistake in serving, but it doesn’t matter, really.» Rengoku looks at you as if thinking what could be done. «Here. Eat this.» he says simply handing you his bentou. You look at him dazed, tilting your head. «If you want we can-» «No, eat it. I can resist until tonight, you can’t.» your boyfriend says, knowin what you are about to say. «But…we can sh-» «You wouldn’t even be able to share it with me if you wanted to.» «Ok ok…but I’ll take your lunch away!» You two keep arguing about who should eat, but in the end you gave in and eat the food. «Okay, I’ll eat. But only because if it cools down it is no longer good.
He’s the type of guy who’s always ready to support you in your bad moments.  It was the time of your period and mood swings were more and more present. A small thing was enough to make you pissed off or cry and all without being able to be foreseen. And during one of your usual workouts, you had exactly the mood swings. Rengoku had assigned you and Tanjiro to perform the 3rd kata of Flame breathing, but you still did not come. You didn’t know what I was doing wrong, but still nothing came out. Tanjiro, on the other hand, had already succeeded four times and it frustrated you even more. At the umpteenth time it fails you, you throw the katana to the ground and yell in exasperation. «It’s enough! I give up, what’s the point of continuing to try if that will never come to me?!» You strode into your room and slammed the door, then shoved yourself into a corner and cried quite a bit. «Y / N…can I enter?» asked a voice you know. «Mh.» Rengoku walked in and sat down next to you, stroking your head. «What happened before?» «So the Flame Pillar will then become Tanjiro because you have decided it, so what’s the point of trying?» «No no hey…I said it would be Tanjiro because I understood you didn’t want to become one. You can both be Pillars, you’re strong too.» «Yes, but if I can’t do the third kata, the others will be impossible.»  you exclaimed drying yourself some tears that were still flowing. «You should have your period soon, right? It’s normal, you’re tired and you need a good dose of rest.» «So…then will I succeed?» «Of course!» «How do you know it?» «Because you are the strongest and most determined girl I know, my love.» he says and then starts to cuddle you.
KNY Masterlist
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donutloverxo · 4 years ago
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His queen
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Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.
Note - An anon asked for an au sequel to first night with no stucky but this can be read as a one shot. Thanks to lizzygal(link to ao3) for her advice on this! This is written for @sweetlyscared's 1k angst challenge! Congrats boo! I used the prompt 'Do you love her?' Although this is hardly angsty but it's as angsty as someone as soft as me can get🥺 Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Summary - Married life with Steve was amazing (although with a few bumps in the way) until you discovered a heartbreaking secret.
Warnings - explicit sexual content, painful sex, innocent naive insecure reader, dub con/noncon, soft dark Steve, jealous Steve, ooc villain Sharon, like a little breeding kink, some angst.
Pairing - soft dark king!Steve x reader
Word count - 5.3k
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Steve jolted when your palm hit him across his face, his hand circled around your wrist, ready to fight whatever it was that slapped him off, his grip loosening when he realised it was just you. You wiggled your hand away from his grip, mumbling incoherently before turning away from him, so that he could only see the silhouette of your nude back in the dim light.
Although he had been with a handful of women, he never had to share a bed with one. He didn’t think he’d ever have to, he was born in royalty, raised to be a king. While he liked having your soft warm body in his arms, he maybe could live without your hands slapping him, or both your legs over his thighs and hips.
It was customary for wives to have their own chambers after the honeymoon period was over. And with a heavy heart he had sent you to your own chambers, he made sure you were treated to the best luxuries possible.
But he found himself missing your presence soon enough. Your legs over his, you annoying him for attention whenever he was working, the way you hummed a song in your head, how you often clumsily bumped into things, your sweet beautiful voice, your scent, everything about you.
So he went to your room, told you that you were to live with him in his chambers from then on. You were hesitant at first, but didn’t say no to him.
You could never deny him anything. He loved that about you. How subservient you were despite being so fiery.
He was grateful to have made you move in, in times like these, when his cock was hard and achingly pressed against your thigh, he had you right where he wanted you.
He softly called out your name, he’d rather have you awake for this. He loved listening to the sweet sounds he could pull out of you. When you didn’t so much as stir he decided he would just have to wake you up another way.
Pushing your legs off his, spreading them apart to make room for him as he hovered over you, pressing soft kisses, rubbing his beard against your skin, he made his way down to his destination, he was parched for your nectar.
He kissed your petal, your cunt already oozing with need, your body would always want him even if you weren’t awake. He frowned when you didn’t move at all. He had been a bit too rough with you that night, exhausting you, making you pass out as soon as he was done, but he was growing more and more impatient.
Scraping his teeth over your clit, he bit it ever so lightly as you yelped awake.
“Oh!” you gasped when you looked down to find the king between your legs.
Swallowing a lump, because this was still so very strange to you. Your mother had told you how a man and woman make love before your wedding, but she never mentioned anything like this.
From your knowledge the king putting his mouth there wouldn’t result in you getting pregnant. But it did bring you great pleasure, to the point where it was maddening.
Sometimes it was the only thing on your mind.
It was as if you were addicted to it.
“My king...” you squirmed when you felt him push his fingers inside you, “I’m so tired... I have court tomorrow...” How he managed to do all his duties and still have you at least thrice everyday was beyond you.
“You don’t have to go. You’re the queen, the future mother of my children, you deserve a day off. Besides I do work you a bit too hard, don’t I?” he asked before plunging his tongue into your heat.
“Huh? No... I’m glad to be serving you...” And you had yet to give him any heirs.
It wasn’t long before you released all over his mouth, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard coated with your slick as he wiped it off with the back of his hand.
“You can stay in bed all day tomorrow. That way you’ll be strong and ready by the time I’m back.” He told you before capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, as you tasted yourself on his mouth.
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Turns out a day off was everything that you had needed. You were born a princess, albeit of a kingdom standing on its last legs, you were the youngest of six sisters, your prospects weren’t all that great.
Your mother told you that you’d be lucky to get a rich lord, let alone a Duke or a prince. A King was out of the question. She taught you how to handle a household, she never could’ve prepared you for court or to be a queen. You always dreamt of marrying for love. Of running away after falling for a stable boy and living far away and being free.
But you married the King of the most prestigious kingdom in the whole world. While you had grown to love Steven, you didn’t love all the responsibilities that were thrusted upon you so suddenly, you didn’t like how you were always under scrutiny. Every move you made was watched and judged by others. You still couldn’t believe your life sometimes.
So it was nice to have a day to yourself. You had slept in till late in the morning, having your breakfast in bed before taking a leisurely bath and then decided to go for a walk in the garden just before the sunset before you’d have to go back up and have dinner with your husband before having to perform your wifely duties.
“Your grace,” you smiled upon hearing the familiar voice, turning around to see Lady Sharon approaching you.
You hadn’t seen her in over a month. She had been so kind to assist you and help you get acclimated to your duties, you’d always be grateful to her.
“I thought you were under the weather,” she frowned. It was the excuse you had given to skip court with your ladies that day. Which wasn’t a complete lie. You were a little sore between your legs. But a warm bath had fixed that.
“I’m feeling quite better,” you said, standing upright, a dignified smile on your face--formal and curt.
Always be formal and curt with everyone. Your instinct was to hug her when you saw her after her month long trip, like you would to any of your sisters or friends, but you must always act like a queen since you were one.
“How was your trip?” you asked her as she hooked her arm in yours so you could both resume walking.
“It went alright. Mama wants to marry me off to the Duke Stark, the trip was some sort of matchmaking ploy,” she snorted.
“What’s wrong with Stark? He seems so charming.” You remember meeting him at your coronation ceremony. Where he had got you beautiful pearls from an exotic country.
“He maybe charming, but at the end of the day - he’s manwhore.”
You gasped incredulously, your hand over your mouth as you looked around to make sure your maids didn’t hear you, “Lady Sharon,” you chastised her, “We can’t use that sort of language.”
“Forgive me, your grace,” she apologized, “I often forget how naive you are.”
“What? Naive?” you huffed. “Not using such filthy language hardly makes me naive.”
“Live a little, all royals are debauched in one way or another. I’m surprised to see just how much of a square you are.”
“Is... is being a square a bad thing?” You wanted to know. You never thought of yourself as a conformist, in fact your mother used to tell you you’ll die an old maid if you didn’t start acting more like a lady and less like a spoilt brat.
“Sometimes it is...” she pondered. “Well, for instance, being a square in bed might be boring for some men.”
“What?” you gasped again. Tightening your grip on her arm and walking at a faster pace to put some distance between you and your maids, “Give us a minute,” you told them.
“Lady Sharon,” you looked into her blue eyes, much like your husbands but a little darker, “Have you ever been with a man?”
“I have,” she shrugged. “Just the one. He was my true love.”
“Bu – but you aren’t married.” You frowned.
“So?”
“So, how can you make love to anyone if you aren’t married...” Your mother had told you that making love only ever happened between a man and his wife.
“I... you do know what making love entails right? This is what I meant when I said you were too much of a square,” she chuckled.
“Don’t... don’t make fun of me...” you pouted.
“I’m sorry, your grace, it’s just,” she put a hand over her mouth as she cleared her throat, “Really funny. Two people, who aren’t married, can make love. Being married is good but not a requirement.”
“I suppose that makes sense, me and his majesty could do it even if we weren’t married...”
“Is he happy with you?” she wanted to know.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just, you don’t know much about physical relations, and there needs to be a certain level of knowledge and experience for it to be good at it.”
“Do you think he is unsatisfied with me?”
“I wouldn’t know,” she shrugged. “Does he seem unsatisfied?”
He was always asking for it. Which you preferred, because you’d die of embarrassment if you ever had to initiate it. You couldn’t go for too long without it either. He had went on a hunting trip for just a couple of days and you wanted to jump on him and keep him in your bed as soon as you saw him.
Why would he ask for it again and again if he was satisfied?
“I’m not sure... since you know so much about it would you give me some advice?”
“My, I would’ve thought you’d call me a harlot or a whore instead you’re asking for advice...” she smirked.
“Oh, I would never. That is what my mother would say, probably, but you’re my friend. Besides, I would want to make love to Steve even if we weren’t married, and if he was a stable boy.”
“A stable boy?” she quirked a blonde brow.
“Yes! And I would be me, a princess. It’s just a silly dream I used to have,” you shrugged. “What happened to your love? The one you lost?”
“He got married to someone else,” she stated. And although she was firm and sophisticated as always, you could hear his voice wavering and how much pain she was in.
“Oh my... I am so sorry, Sharon,” you said, engulfing her in a hug to comfort her, now that you do actually love someone, now that you know what loving someone deeply means, how overwhelming it can be, you couldn’t even imagine what losing that love would feel like. “You’ll find someone better.”
“There is no one better, your grace. But I’ll give you some advice,” she pulled away from you, putting some distance between you both, “You have to pay special attention to his balls. Many ladies tend to forget them.”
“Ball...? Like toys? I don’t believe he has any.”
“Your grace,” she rolled her eyes as she snickered, “He does have them. That is where your children will come from.”
“Um... what? Wouldn’t they come from...” you looked down, to the place between your legs. That’s where kids come from. That’s what you had been told.
“Well, yes, that is where they will pop out of. But the balls... the ones right behind his manhood, that’s where his seed comes from.”
“Oh...” you nodded as you realised what she was talking about. “So... what about the... balls?”
“Just pay special attention to them. He would like that. Suck on them, tug on them... but gently!” she chuckled as she realised she would have to talk down to you since you were so inexperienced.
“Oh... alright... anything else I can do?”
“Try to be more... active... instead of just sitting there and taking it you know?”
“Alright. I think I get the gist of it.”
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“You ready for me, petal?” Steven asked as he looked down at you, naked and vulnerable, so beautiful and all his. He nudged his cock against your intimate lips, prodding at your entrance as he awaited your answer. He knew he could be too much for you sometimes, he was trying to do better. So he could make you love him at least half of as much as he loves you.
“Mm-hm... but um...” you trailed off. Not exactly knowing how you would go about asking to suck his balls.
“What?”
“I was just wondering if... I could... do that...” you fluttered your lashes, that usually got you whatever you wanted from him.
“And what is ‘that’?”
“You know... when you make me put my mouth on you...”
He didn’t usually make you use your mouth.
Most of the times Steven had a strict unofficial schedule he followed when it came to lovemaking. He wasn’t someone who liked or embraced change, he was always strategic, as a king and as your husband.
He’d kiss you till you were out of breath, then your neck, and then your breasts, he’d spend a long amount of time there, maybe because you liked that the most probably. And then he’d use his fingers to work you up, tasting you, eating you out and drinking your nectar.
That drove you mad, till you were on the brink of insanity.
You loved it as much as you hated it. You had never felt so out of control in your entire life. Not even when your parents told you they were going to marry you off to a kingdom far away, to a man you had never even met before.
Steven would complain that you thrashed and moved around too much, although he would encourage you to make all the noise that you wished. He pinned you down by your hips. Sometimes he’d make you make once, twice, thrice, it depended on how desperate he was to get his own release.
And then he’d have you on your back. Whispering the filthiest things to you as he fucked you, filled you up with his seed.
He’d hold you close to him, kissing your hair, kissing your cheeks and touching your ever so intimately. That was when you were the most clingy, you’d hold on so tightly to him. You were more vulnerable than usual. You would tell him about how, even though you love being the queen and his wife, it was so new and overwhelming, how you miss your family and your old life. How things had changed and so drastically. He’d always tell you that it would all be okay. That he would take care of you and never let anything bad ever happen to you.
Then he’d have you on your hands and knees. He told you he liked looking at your behind and spanking it.
After that you’d both fall asleep. Sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night and nudge you awake to love you some more. But he rarely ever made you suck him off.
“You wanna suck my cock?” he smirked as you meekly nodded. “Go right ahead then, petal. It’s all yours now, you don’t have to ask,” he told you as he sat up on his knees.
You looked at his cock. Hard and standing tall and proud up against his stomach. You now knew that being aroused made him hard and much much bigger. Maybe that’s why it’s often such a tasking job to take him--often leaving your cunt so sore.
Soft dark golden hair, much like that of his beard, and then you noticed them. His twin balls.
You took a deep breath as you took him in your mouth, suckling on his head, following your instincts and what he had taught you.
Your hand coming up and cupping his balls, massaging them gently in your hand. You stopped when you felt him go stiff.
Pulling his cock out of your mouth you looked up at him. “Did I do something wrong?” as you wiped your spittle and his preejaculate off your mouth.
“No,” he shook his head. It wasn’t often that he was stunned. Not ever really. But you, taking that kind of initiative, to touch him without him asking for you to, did shock him just a little.
He held onto the back of your head, bringing his balls just next to your mouth, against your soft lips, “Suck on them,” he told you.
You suckled at one, working the other one with your hand as he pulled at the roots of your head.
“Fuck! Stop!” he heaved, pulling you away, “I have to save it for your beautiful cunt, my queen,” he told you as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before he pushed you back down on the mattress.
Swiftly entering you, you were still as tight as the night of your wedding, which meant he had to be patient while fucking you, and he tried. He really did. But he was not a patient man. Especially not when you had just put your mouth on him and worked your magic in mere seconds.
He put most of his weight on you as he slowly pushed in and out of you, your face scrunched up in pleasure as you dug your nails into his shoulders.
With your pussy hugging him so well, almost as if it was made for him, as if you were made by the gods just for him.
“What have you done to me?” he rasped, touching his damp forehead to yours. You had weaved some sort of magic on him, making him crazy for you. Now it was hard to tell where he ended and you began.
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You pressed a hand against your mouth to stop from giggling or making any sort of noise. Resting your back against the cool surface of the throne. You chose the back of the throne in the court as your place of hiding. Maybe it wasn’t the most strategic ploy but you were playing against a six year old.
Lila Barton had asked to play hide and seek with you. Only to receive a scolding from her nanny--to not bother the queen with such trivial matters.
It was as if you were reliving your childhood. You always felt you were made to grow up and be a lady too fast. With your mother and sisters telling you how important it was to act mature and be a lady, or you wouldn’t be able to marry well. Or marry at all.
So you jumped at the first opportunity to play with the kid. Making her count to twenty before looking for a place to hide. You had to go get your lessons for sewing so you didn’t have a lot of time, you hoped she would find you soon.
“But you’re not even considering it!”
You perked up when you heard the familiar voice, it was Lady Sharon! You had to thank her for all her advice, things had been going great with Steven ever since you listened to her. He had been opening up to you as well, although he was still as voracious in his love making. If anything... he wanted you even more now. Which you didn’t think could even be possible.
But some part of you absolutely loved it. And you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way.
You peaked out to see her, to maybe call her to join you on the floor, hiding behind the large throne. You frowned when you saw that she was holding onto Steven’s arm, looking up at him with a certain desperation in her eyes.
“There is nothing to consider. I’m a married man. It would be adultery – a crime,” he stated.
“Bu – but you promised, you told me you didn’t love her. You said you didn’t have any other choice. I’m not asking you to leave her for me, I know that’s not possible. I’m not a fucking idiot like her.”
You slapped a hand over your mouth again to keep your sobs in, tears streaming down your face as you watched your husband, and his lover, have a lovers quarrel.
You couldn’t hear any more of it. Couldn’t bear it breaking your heart anymore than it already had. You quickly got up, fleeing out of the room by the back entrance - which the servants often used.
“You watch your mouth when you speak of the queen,” he yanked his arm free of her, putting some distance between himself and her, “I didn’t make any promises like that. I told you I intended to be faithful to her even if I didn’t love her.”
He knew it was a mistake to ever get involved with Sharon. He never wanted to be a womanizer. But he had his needs. He didn’t think she would become so obsessed with him. He had broken off their short fling as soon as he became betrothed to you.
He felt responsible for all the rumours about him and her and her ruined reputation. So he had arranged for her to marry his good friend Stark but she had her mind set on him.
“I like the queen. She’s a good friend of mine. I don’t intend to replace her,” she explained. She had no interest in being a queen and having such tedious and boring responsibilities anyway—the power and the status that came along with it just wasn’t worth the hassle. She pitied you and how you just weren’t made for the job.
“But she can’t satisfy you, she can’t give you what you need-- What I can give you,” Being the Kings mistress would probably be better than being a Duchess and marrying some boring old man.
“Won’t you even think about it?”
“No I won’t. And you are to never speak of this again,” he warned her.
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“Your grace...” Lydia was completely confused. Standing there with your dress in her hands as you frantically stuffed your clothes in a chest.
She had never seen two people as in love as you and the king. When she first met you, it didn’t seem as if you and Steven would make a good couple. She assumed your marriage would be like any other she had seen. Cold and distant.
Steve had never been smitten with a woman, she always felt there maybe something wrong with him. But he had grown so fond of you in such a short time. Even going as far as asking you to live with him in his chambers. Having the king around often made her duties to you challenging. But she was happy for you.
“I don’t understand. What wrong? Why do you want to leave so suddenly.” Does the king approve of your sudden departure? If not would she get in trouble for it?
“He lied to me,” you sobbed. “I thought--” you let out a hiccup.
“Calm down,” she said as she rubbed your forearms. She wasn’t afraid to touch you in such friendly ways, you weren’t as stuck up as most royals.
You took a deep breath as you tried to explain to your handmaiden why you both had to leave as soon as possible. Before Steven gets back. You’ll move all your things to the room you were supposed to live in and just lock him out of your chambers.
“I would’ve been fine living on my own. Just being a wife and a queen. But he made me believe... that we could be more. That he loved me. It’s not true,” you shook your head. “He lied. He has another lover.”
“Oh,” she let out. She was disappointed on your behalf but not surprised. It would be strange if the king didn’t have any other lovers. “I’m sorry, your grace.”
“I’ll be fine,” you sniffled. “This'll be a good lesson for me. My mother always told me I have my head in the clouds and should live in reality. That’ll teach me to dream.”
It was almost funny for her to watch you babble nonsense, stable boys, princesses and backstabbing friends, take a break to cry your heart out and then resume packing and trying to order all the other servants.
“What’s going on here?”
Everyone stopped moving as soon as they heard the kings voice. He of course looked at the Lydia for an explanation.
“The queen wants us to...”
“I’m moving back to my old chambers,” you briskly walked to him, standing right in front of him, looking him in the eye. He was much taller than you, making you crane your neck to actually get a good look at him, but you still tried to look intimidating and confrontational.
“Why?” he frowned. “Put everything back just as it was,” he ordered everyone.
“No!” you stomped your foot, looking very much like an indignant child who had his toy taken away, than a queen, “Don’t! We’re moving!” But of course nobody would listen to you over Steven. Not just because he was their king, but also because he was much more intimidating than you.
“Stop it!” he reprimanded you. “Whatever troubles you may have, we can sort them out together, but you are not moving back. And that’s the end of that.”
“No! I’m leaving! I’d like to see you try to stop me!” You hmphed. Pushing past him and making way for the door. You didn’t need to take your things with you now, you could just send for them later.
You screamed bloody murder when you felt Stevens arm around your stomach, as he threw you over his shoulder in the blink of an eye, “HELP!!” You yelled at the guards and your maids, who didn’t want to get involved, quickly scurrying out of the room.
“Ring the bell if you need anything, your grace,” Lydia said on her way out to you before she closed the door. It didn’t seem as if the king intended to do any real harm to you so she wasn’t that worried about you.
You kept on hitting his back, thrashing around his hold to break free, “Put me down!”
He threw you on your marital bed, his fingers making quick work of ridding him of his clothes so he could show you how he was just never going to let you go.
“Why do you even care? If I leave or not? You can just call for your lover!”
“My lover?” he frowned as he tried to push your skirts up your legs, which was proving to be a difficult task. Maybe he should’ve asked the maids to undress you before making them leave.
“Do you love her?” you asked, looking up at him and stopping your futile resistance for a few moments, your lips wobbly as you felt your vision blue with tears. You were born a princess, living a relatively sheltered life, never knowing pain so unbearable. As if you would never recover from this, you would never be the same.
You would never believe in love again.
“I have no clue what you’re talking about, petal,” he said, getting frustrated with all the buttons and ties on your dress and ripping your skirt apart. Which he regretted, just a little because you started crying again.
“No! I like this dress.”
“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you a hundred more.” He said as he hovered over you, diving in to kiss your beautiful lips and make you stop saying such preposterous things.
You sniffled as you tried to push him away, making him gather your wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head.
“Stop it,” he told you. “When will you understand that you belong to me now? If I say you have to live with me, here, then that’s what you’ll do.”
“I’m not your slave,” you retorted as you tried to wiggle your hands out of his grip.
“Stop listening to rumors! There are plenty going around. I do not have a lover.”
“No. I saw it with my own eyes. You and Lady Sharon. Just this afternoon.”
“What did you see?”
“I... she said she was your lover...?” You tried to think of what exactly had been said between them. But you couldn’t remember. You were blinded by your fury and your sorrow.
“We used to be lovers, before you and I ever met, but not anymore. I could never think of another, I could never love anyone else,” he said softly as he touched your cheek with his other hand, “You want to know why?”
“Why?” you pouted, feeling a little stupid now.
“Because you’ve ruined me, my queen. You’ve made me a lovesick fool. I could never love anyone else the way I love you. Do you want to know how much I love you?” he asked as you meekly nodded.
Pulling his cock out of breaches, he pushed your skirts up, exposing your thighs to him, he rubbed his cock along the slick of your pussy.
“Did fighting with me make you wet, my queen?” he asked, making you avert your gaze.
“I...” it was the way he had simply thrown you around, how he just wouldn’t let you leave, “Maybe...”
“Hm, don’t start picking fights with me for no reason though. My poor heart won’t be able to bear it,” he cooed as he kissed your cheeks, wet from your tears. “You look beautiful when you cry, love, but I only want you crying when I’m fucking you, you understand?”
“Yes...”
He pushed inside you, you were tighter than usual, it was difficult to even properly enter you. The pain of it of course made you cry again. You sobbed into the crook of his neck as he shushed you.
“You feel my love, darling,” he asked as he was buried to the hilt inside you, “I’ll give you a child soon enough. Then you’ll have a living breathing proof of it,” he whispered in your ear as he started steadily moving, making sure that he won’t hurt you.
“I wish... I was your one and only... like you are mine,” you sniffled as you held on to him, soon it is wasn’t hurting as much, it was a little uncomfortable but you could bear through it.
“You are my one and only. You’re the only woman I have ever loved. Do you love me, petal?”
He looked down at you, wanting you to say it. He needed you to love him, for you to say it to him, he needed to know you weren’t here just because you were scared of him.
“I love you, Steve,” you sniffled, rubbing your runny nose with the back of your hand.
He smiled at you, his hand trailing down both your bodies as he twisted your pearl between his fingers.
“It’s okay... it’s okay...” He kept telling you as you screamed at the top of your lungs, your climax making your mind and your vision fuzzy.
“I’m going to fill you up, petal,” he told you as he finished inside you, staying inside you for a long while after he was done just to make sure you knew how he belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him.
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amistytown · 4 years ago
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The Brothers Comfort MC During a Panic Attack
This is my first attempt at writing down my headcanons for the brothers, so I apologize if anything is out of character. I meant it to be short and sweet, but it grew out of my control after a while. I’m a perfectionist and wanted to rewrite everything. I made minor edits and am posting it anyway or it’ll sit in my drafts forever; I admit I put the most effort into Lucifer’s, forgive me. Also sorry for the repetitiveness and any typos you may find. I decided to write how the brothers would comfort MC during a panic attack, especially as someone who suffers from anxiety and panic attacks themselves. Honestly, I wrote this as a way to comfort myself since I’ve been dealing with terrible anxiety lately. Of course, everyone experiences anxiety differently, so I can only speak from my own experiences. I didn’t go into detail when it comes to the symptoms themselves because it’s from the point of view of the brothers and only so many are visible to the eye. Trigger warning for depictions of anxiety and panic attacks. Thank you for reading!
LUCIFER
Lucifer is troubled. Following lunch, you disappeared, currently absent from class. This is unlike you, his worry intensifying every minute you’re out of his sight. Yet he maintains his composure, resigning himself to scouring the academy grounds. Time passes at a torturous pace, his thoughts beginning to take a turn for the worst. He contemplates whether to involve his brothers and Lord Diavolo himself at this rate, however the sound of his D.D.D diverts his attention. A wave of relief washes over him at the sight of your name lighting up his screen, chased by frustration at you, your silence, and himself for losing track of you so easily; he couldn’t bear living if anything happened to you under his watch. He expects this behavior from his brothers, not you. Though his heart sinks, the Avatar of Pride uncharacteristically overcome with guilt while he reads your message. Of course, you are not his brothers. He should not have doubted you.
Your texts are apprehensive, a weighty pause between them as you hesitate to lay bare the darkest depths of your soul. He approaches you cautiously, to avoid upsetting you further. Your words alone convey the sheer panic taking possession of you, the last of your strength used to press send. Outside he discovers you, huddled miserably in an isolated corner of the building, swathed in shadow. The desire to shelter you from the world burns within him, but your eyes widen fearfully in his presence, wounding his pride. Immediately, you apologize. Sorry you’re missing class, that you left without telling anyone, and upset him—especially when you’re aware of his busy schedule. You’re sorry for not having the courage to pull yourself together, succumbing to your anxiety, your shame palpable. The hand clutching your D.D.D is trembling, your chest heaving as you struggle to breathe. He aches for you, each tear shed hurting more than the last, your pain managing to touch the very core of his being and set him alight.
If anyone is sorry, it’s him, pride be damned. Kneeling in front of you, he assures you an apology isn’t necessary—your wellbeing of great importance to him. He wants you to rely on him, grateful you confided in him despite your doubts. Hopefully, he can eventually put your mind at ease. His voice low, soothing, he continues to console you, making sure you’re aware he’s not upset, and your feelings are valid. Although he’s not familiar with the inner workings of anxiety itself, he’s willing to listen, learning how to support you to the best of his ability—starting today, providing you’re comfortable accepting his offer. Initially, he prioritized your safety for the sake of the exchange program and Lord Diavolo’s wish to unite the three realms, now it’s merely out of adoration for you, his beloved. Once you’re ready, he’ll let you know you’re not alone. He’s never too busy on your behalf. 
Offering you his hand, a smile graces his features as you accept. Slowly, he helps you to your feet, steadying you against him. He notes the way you relax at his touch, shoulders sagging and head coming to rest on his chest. Only you exist in this moment, his gaze not leaving you, not even for a second. Standing in silence until your breathing settles and you regain your balance, he sees you through the height of your attack before escorting you back to the House of Lamentation. He’ll personally excuse you from the remainder of your classes, understanding you need a quiet place to recover. Classical music plays softly in the background of his room, and he’s content to have you in his embrace, drawing you onto his lap after you finish the tea he brewed to calm your nerves. Lucifer pays you special attention, massaging your tired body and kissing you tenderly, his breath fanning across your lips as he reminds you how special you truly are—brave, compassionate, and incredibly loved.
MAMMON
Mammon mourns his loss, wondering how he let them gain the upper hand; admittedly, a foolish mistake on his part. He dreads breaking the news to Lucifer, and the resentment that shows on his brothers’ faces once he confesses does little to ease his mind. Still, he worries about your reaction most of all, knowing his stupidity has put you in a precarious position. In that moment he believes their words—only a greedy scumbag like himself dares to place his human’s happiness on the line. Although certain of his win at the time, he should consider how his actions affect you more often; otherwise, how can he claim he’s the Great Mammon? His confidence is his downfall in the end. Now you’ll suffer along with him. Yet you feign optimism, attempting to soothe everything over despite your innocence. His guilt only grows, a heavy weight on his shoulders. One he deserves.
Three days of waiting on and performing for large crowds at The Fall proves hectic for everyone. He can tell you’re struggling beneath the façade of a composed and hospitable server, going above and beyond to ensure the patrons leave satisfied. Furthermore, you lend him and his brothers a hand, coming to their rescue; it should be him making it as easy on you as possible. His concern for you runs deep, no matter how hard he tries to maintain his usual air of indifference, but you have the nerve to reassure him—it’s meant to be the opposite, dammit. Each night he goes out of his way to check on you, frustrated that you continue to dance around the subject. He can see the exhaustion on your face, hear the slight tremor in your voice, the toll his stupid decision is taking on you, and it stung. You comfort him, even when he’s undeserving, so why won’t you allow him to hold you and kiss the pain away? Not that he’s asked. You should realize by now you can rely on him, right?
Watching you suffer in silence tortures him. He can’t deny it regardless of his best effort to make light of the situation. You barely eat or spend time outside your room, saying you’re tired, which isn’t a lie—working is exhausting, no doubt about it—but he understands you well enough to notice the subtle signs of your anxiety, your smile unable to trick him into believing otherwise. Perhaps you find him as insufferable as his brothers do, or worse, and don’t want to see his face after what he’s done. That doesn’t stop him from showing up at your door, hoping he can offer some form of comfort. However, you keep up appearances, supporting the seven of them during the longest weekend of their lives. You work hard too, his chest swelling with pride as he watches you care for his brothers and customers alike. How can you like an idiot like him? You’re selfless and loving, looking past his flaws to see what lay beneath his sin. His human. His angel. He wants—no needs—you to be okay.
The last day comes and goes in a blur. Finally, he can toss these ridiculous clothes and rabbit ears in the trash and never perform that dance again. Better yet, you’re free of his burden, though the guilt remains. He can’t relax until he’s positive you’re okay, knowing he’s genuinely sorry. Standing outside your room, he tries to muster up the courage to open his heart to you—apologies not his strong suit—when he hears you crying. They’re small, muffled sobs that manage to shake him to his core, blood running cold. Yeah, he should knock, but he can’t control himself, throwing the door open without hesitation and rushing to your side. The sight of your tears is almost too much to bear, and he draws you into his embrace, face heating up at his own moment of vulnerability, but this is about you, not him. He can be strong for you too, telling you everything’s going to be okay, that the Great Mammon is here to help.
After his stupidity, you tell him you were afraid to bother him? He can hardly suppress the shock at your confession, the sadness in your eyes breaking his heart. You wanted to make sure it went smoothly for his sake? You suffer through Hell alone because you chose to put his feelings first? Crazy. Though he thanks you, not completely ashamed to admit he’s touched. However, he tells you that you don’t have to put aside your feelings for his benefit; he prefers to be by your side then know you’re having a rough time on your own. He is your first. Taking the initiative, he asks what he can do to make it up to you, no matter how big or small the request is because he’ll do it in a heartbeat. You opt to stay in his arms, burying your face into his chest, and he wipes away your remaining tears, being as gentle as he possibly can. He can feel how tense your body is, your skin unnaturally warm, and it takes a while until you stop shaking. It’s moments like these he’ll tell you how much you mean to him—that he loves you, okay—and he wants you to come to him for everything. He’ll hold you, taking your hand in his, and kiss you with all the adoration in the world because you’re incredibly important to him. Mammon can attest to that.
LEVIATHAN
Leviathan invites you to his room to play video games, a daily routine the two of you have comfortably fallen into. He loves gaming with you, though on occasion you opt to watch instead, thoroughly enthralled by whatever is on the screen. Miraculously, you enjoy listening to him ramble—whether it’s about the game he’s playing, anime he’s watching, or TSL among other things—genuinely showing interest in his passions; he’s incapable of expressing how truly grateful he is for your company. His heart nearly bursts whenever you compliment him on his gaming prowess, encourage him during a particularly intense battle, or merely tell him how you enjoy hanging out. How in the Devildom did a gross otaku like him get so incredibly lucky? He can hardly believe you love him of all demons. The thought alone sounds crazy lmao. 
Unable to contain his excitement, he awaits your arrival that night, ensuring everything is perfect when he hears a knock on the door. However, his smile fades the moment he lays eyes on you, mind beginning to race as he wonders why you look miserable, your gaze trained on your hands. Before he can speak, you apologize, dissolving into tears while you return the game he let you borrow. You’re stuttering, completely winded, and he can barely hear you confess to accidentally corrupting his data in your panic. In fact, he loses track of the number of times you choke out a sorry. He treasures his games, his collection extensive, but he cherishes you most of all. The loss is a minor annoyance, nothing that lessens the feelings he harbors for you. Although difficult, he overcomes his insecurities to show you it’s okay—you’re loved.
Not only are you sad, but you’re also terrified, a part of him wanting to destroy the game itself if it means you never have to experience the pain that torments you now. Regarding you carefully, afraid to make matters worse, he reassures you that he’s not upset—far from it, honestly—and that he cares about you more than any game. No stranger to your panic attacks, he reaches out to take your hand in his, hoping you find comfort in what he has to offer. And when you finally glance up, hope shining in your tear-filled eyes, he can’t help but wrap you in his arms. A warmth spreads across his face, heart pounding in his ears, but he knows you need him, allowing his body to relax around yours.
Holding you against him, he tells you everything’s all right, stuttering out how he loves you and, most importantly, wants to you to feel better. Your arms circle around his waist, causing his heart to jump into his throat, but he only pulls you closer. You’re his Henry, and what friend is he if you can’t rely on him? Leviathan is understanding, wanting you to come to him for support at your most vulnerable. Now he puts his knowledge to the test, easing you into his room with continuous words of affirmation. You always know how to console him at his lowest, and he hopes he can return the favor. If anyone deserves to feel loved it’s you, who brought joy into his otherwise bleak world, and he’ll sit with you every day and night if you need him to. 
SATAN
Satan knows he shouldn’t be awake, though he finds it difficult to satiate his curiosity as he peruses the books lining his shelves. He barely registers the sound of his D.D.D, reluctant to put the book aside to see who’s messaging him at this ungodly hour; Asmodeus most likely. His tune changes after he sees your name lighting up his screen, his annoyance replaced with worry. He knows you struggle, especially at night, but he can tell you’re hesitant to reach out. Nevertheless, you gradually begin to confide in him, his patience limitless if you’re concerned, and he feels a sense of relief that you choose to trust him at your most vulnerable instead of suffering on your own. Pouring over every book he can locate on anxiety, he studies it religiously, engraining each page into his memory. Not by giving unsolicited advice—he doesn’t want to make that mistake twice—but by comforting you the best he can, even if it simply means to stay by your side, waiting for the panic to pass.
A second later, he appears at your door, gaze softening as your eyes meet. In the darkness of your room, he can tell how exhausted you are. You apologize for bothering him, particularly this late, but he dismisses you with a shake of his head and a reassuring smile, sitting beside you on the bed. It saddens him that you feel the need to, but he’s familiar enough with anxiety by now that he understands how much of a manipulative monster it truly is; if only he can destroy it with his own two hands, strangling the life out of it so it no longer taints that innocent soul of yours. To watch you struggle fills him with a rage that he forces deep within himself, fully aware anger isn’t the answer no matter how great his desire to protect you is. So, he cups your face in his hands, your skin warm beneath his fingers as he strokes your flushed cheeks and presses your foreheads together. 
Focus on him, he tells you, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and his voice while he whispers words of love and encouragement. He never tires of letting you know how beautiful and strong you are, that he’s always here for you and loves you—all of you. You unravel in his arms, opening your heart up to him, and he listens intently, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips the moment you look uncertain. You’re not a burden he promises, hoping one day you’ll believe it yourself, but he’ll remind you every chance he gets; forever if he must. It’s worth it in the end, when you relax against him and smile, kissing him in return. Slowly, the anxiety leaves your body, Satan thankful that the waves of panic have receded enough to let you rest your weary mind. He remains next to you, pulling you down to lay your head on his chest and closing your hand in his, entwining your fingers. He’s content here with you, watching you fall asleep and chasing away the nightmares.
ASMODEUS
Asmodeus loves shopping, but he loves shopping with you most of all. The day is bright with you by his side, and he can’t help but buy you clothes and matching accessories to bring out your inherent charm. Your potential is endless, and he gushes over how gorgeous you are, unable to contain his excitement when your cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink in return. He can hardly control himself around you, gaze fixated on your every movement and heart racing each time you flash him one of the sweetest smiles he’s ever seen; your very soul seeming to shine through and blind him. Nothing prepares him for the love he feels for you, but he considers it a welcome surprise, his desire to grow closer to you intensifying day after day. You captivate him, the Avatar of Lust of all demons. What an exciting turn of events!
Of course, he attracts attention wherever he goes, posing for pictures with adoring fans and basking in the compliments constantly thrown his way; nothing new, but he enjoys it, nonetheless. Who can resist the allure of his very presence? However, anger wells within him at the sight of you being shoved to the side, falling to the ground and lost to the crowd that has gathered. Their words of flattery fall on deaf ears as he rushes to you, throwing a heated glance at the lowly demon who dares to touch his darling human. He desires nothing more than to punish them for such an injustice, but the fear in your eyes tells him otherwise. By the time he scoops you up into his arms you’re trembling from head to toe, and he can feel your heart pounding against him. A part of him places the blame on himself, an unfamiliar feeling, but he chooses to ignore it for now, focusing on getting you home in your worsening state.
In the peace and quiet of his room, he sits you on the bed, wrapping you in his arms as he affectionately runs his fingers through your hair. He can tell you’re upset—in an absolute state of panic by the looks of it—and all he can do is hold you through it, quietly asking what you need and willing to answer your every beck and call if it means that adorable smile graces your features once more. For a moment he considers seeking out Lucifer, worried something has gone terribly wrong, but thankfully you find your voice, mumbling into his chest about anxiety and panic attacks, that you’ll be fine—eventually—and are sorry for ruining your date. He doesn’t understand completely, though he knows you need him, promising to stay by your side for as long as you want. Kissing your cheek, he assures you there’s no need to apologize to him, your safety more important than anything else; the demon who laid his hands on you won’t go without punishment either.
Admitting a bath helps calm you down, he prepares one for you, steam rising from the surface and the heady scent of roses filling the air. Together you slip into the water, enveloped by its warmth, and he hums in contentment as you lean into him, his arms coming to rest around your waist. He watches you carefully, making sure you’re able to relax and preparing himself in case you call on him; he’ll do anything for you if it brings you the happiness you deserve. Your eyes flutter close, Asmodeus showering you with delicate kisses, comforted by the fact your breathing has levelled out and you appear a lot calmer than before. The day didn’t go as planned, and he hopes to make it up to you, vowing that no one else will hurt you on his watch. He loves himself. He loves his brothers. But loves you most of all.
BEELZEBUB
Beelzebub notices you haven’t touched your dinner and is beyond happy the moment you offer your plate to him. Yet he can’t bring himself to enjoy the food in front of him while you excuse yourself from the table, eyes downcast and voice quiet, the usual smile gone from your face and leaving behind an emptiness that rivals his own hunger. His mouth waters at the thought of seconds, but his concern for you grows, and he decides to follow you without question, disregarding the ravenous growl of his stomach. He catches you in the hallway, calling out your name. You turn to him, his brow furrowing in unease at the sight of your tears and the slight tremble of your lip. It hurts him to see you in obvious distress, and he earnestly offers his support.
The only sound is that of your sobbing. He desperately wishes to hold you tightly and rid you of your pain. However, he falters, studying you. Your gaze is trained on the floor, shoulders stiff with tension, and the color drains from your cheeks. When you speak, he’s surprised by how helpless you sound and the fact you’re trying to reassure him, putting his needs above your own although you’re struggling to hold yourself together. Fear flickers across your features at the echo of the brothers’ voices travelling up the stairs, and he mumbles out an apology as he carefully lifts you into his arms, cradling you to his chest. 
Before the others can round the corner, he hurries down the hall and slips into your room, determined to protect his vulnerable human. He notices you relax against him, your fingers curling into his shirt, and he can’t help but want to keep you close, relieved after you lean in closer to wrap your arms around his neck. Stroking your hair, he allows you to cry, his patience and love for you endless. Eventually, you mutter an embarrassed sorry, thanking him profusely, but he’s merely relieved you’re beginning to feel a bit better, reassuring you that you can always depend on him. 
Listening to you intently, he never breaks eye contact. You open up to him about your anxiety, his stomach twisting as you describe what you call a panic attack and how it wrecks you both mentally and physically. Beelzebub knows he has a lot to learn, but he expresses interest in understanding anxiety and, most importantly, how he can help you, so you don’t suffer alone. For the rest of the night, he keeps you company and eases you through the remainder of your attack, giving you plenty of hugs and rubbing your back in soothing circles until you no longer shake, and your heartbeat returns to its usual pace.
BELPHEGOR
Belphegor enjoys the time you spend together, especially when the two of you are alone. He asks you to accompany him in the attic, and it’s not long before he curls around you, falling into a peaceful sleep as he listens to the steady beat of your heart. However, when he awakes it’s to the sound of your soft cries in the dark, which fill him with a fear he can’t seem to shake. Without hesitation he’s at your side, sitting up to softly place a hand on your shoulder and ask you what’s wrong. The sadness in your eyes as you glance up at him, tears staining your cheeks, tugs at his heartstrings. He can’t bear to see you upset.
Once he realizes you’re having a panic attack, he’s attentive to your needs, cradling you in his arms as you cry into his chest. You confided in him about your struggles with anxiety after you fell to pieces in front of him months ago. A part of him understands, the loss of Lilith haunting him throughout the years and instilling a similar feeling of unease within him, especially when his nightmares seem to blur the line between reality and the painful memories of his past. You always came to his rescue and now it’s his turn to comfort you in your time of need. Sleep can wait.
With you in his embrace, he brings you down to relax against the pillows, pulling the blanket around your shivering form. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he gently brushes the remaining tears from your face, whispering words of love and reassurance. He listens to you when you’re comfortable to talk, the slight tremble of your voice causing him to draw you closer and press a kiss to your forehead. Belphegor tells you he’s here for you—forever—and although he’s still learning about anxiety and finding the best ways to comfort you during an attack, he wants you to depend on him no matter what. Even if that means you wake him up in the middle of the night. He won’t rest until he knows you’re okay, and you’re peacefully sleeping in his arms.
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astaroth1357 · 4 years ago
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Demigod MC Series: Demeter
Have I been using this series to vicariously punish Belphie for the events of Season 1? I cannot confirm nor deny that statement.
Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter
Lucifer
Didn't think too much of the "human" when they popped out of the portal. Sure they had a straw hat and a huge basket full of produce but it wasn’t like they were… Wait… No… Were they…?
Oh no. Oh nonononono, this is not good…!!
Demeter is notoriously doting and protective of her children (see her freakout and breakdown after Hades abducted of Persephone as proof) and they've pretty much done the EXACT. SAME. THING. here!!
It was a mad scramble by him and Diavolo to contact and appease their godly Mother Bear before she came roaring down to Devildom herself to turn them all into barley. Thankfully, Zeus must have intervened at some point because though she was indeed PISSED, she didn't threaten to barge in… yet.
She made one thing very clear. Bend so much as a single hair on her precious child's head and there would be WAR…
The MC received a 24 hour security detail after that. Just Mammon wasn't going to cut it, he needed NO chances. It was a full rotation of Mammon, him and Beel for the entirety of their stay (Asmo and Levi both threw hissy fits at the prospect of babysitting, Satan couldn’t be trusted not to kill them just to irritate him, and Belphie was out for… obvious reasons).
In some ways, it wasn’t so bad. The MC was a very mild sort of person, rather even tempered. He’d dare say they were pleasant, mostly content to just tend to their gardens and be out in the moonlight…
But the problem was, he just could not convince them to stay OUT of nature. Including the forests, which were full of hellish beasts fully intent on gnawing their flesh from their bones… and their specialty was plants, not animals, sooo…
Their habit of sneaking out to wander the woods got so bad that he very nearly considered pulling a Belphie 2 and locking them in the basement for their own good. But Devil knows what damage their mother would do if she found out…
At least they make for pleasant company… And Diavolo seems to like them quite a bit himself so the mortal gets a pass from him. Now if they’d only consider their own safety for a change…
Mammon
They make him a KILLING.
Like, no seriously. Their produce is insane!! He’s never tasted food so good, especially stuff that’s come fresh from the ground! It only took a few berries for Mammon to throw on a straw hat himself and start harvesting! He’s a farmer now, baby!!
Weeellll not quite. He’s still absolutely only in it for the money, but anything he brings to a farmer’s market goes so fast that he can hardly care about the labor! He’s never made this much Grimm in his life!! And it’s totally legit for a change!
He bought himself another car, paid off half of his debt, and even got Levi back that 2 or 3 grand he leant him centuries ago. Really, Mammon’s living his best life and it’s all thanks to MC!
It’s a good thing his blatant grifting doesn’t hurt his relationship with them at all, in fact they seem to enjoy having his help regardless. They bring him drinks on hot days or invite him on picnics and stuff, it’s… it’s really sweet. They’re very nice to him and he appreciates it…
But… COULD YA JUST STAY PUT ALREADY???
It drives him INSANE that they won’t stay out of dangerous places!! After he started caring about them for more than just a meal ticket it only got even worse!!
He’s not usually one for monitoring someone’s every move (that kind of control freak behavior is more a Lucifer thing) but he eventually had to set up familiars around the House just to keep them from sneaking out at night...
What was so interesting out there anyway?? There wasn’t any kind of plant that he could bring them himself! They didn’t have any need to be out there!! 
They’d keep telling him they’d be fine but it’s not like he’s going to actually buy that. They were too… nice to be dangerous or anything so why would he believe them?
No more running off, MC! Please, he’s beggin’ ya!!
Leviathan 
Wait, gardening? Like, being outdoors and stuff? Ew. No thanks, he’ll pass.
That was more or less his first reaction when they showed up and it never really got much better than that…
He admits that they’re friendly and it’s not like he dislikes them or anything, but their thing so far from his thing that they just don’t have a lot in common… you know?
For starters, they get So. Antsy. when they’re inside for too long! He tried to invite them to a marathon once, but they could hardly keep still and kept looking around like they were searching for a window… He said, “to jump out of.” They insisted just for some fresh air, but he didn’t buy it...
They’re nice enough to listen to his rants, but they’re barely ever inside for him to do so and like HELL is he going to leave his room and stand around out there for that long. Ranting is at least a one to two hour engagement! What if he gets hot out there? And have you SEEN Devildom bees?? Hell no!!
He has, however, asked them on multiple occasions to reproduce flowers he’s seen in different anime, especially ones that have a very unique look and they’ve done some real wonders with that!
He can now claim to be the only person to ever own a Ruby-Jade Vine plant, straight from the pages of TSL when it was used to brew tea for the Lord of Lechery during his brief illness and-is anyone even still listening anymore?
The point is, it’s a flower so rare it was imaginary but now HE has it!... or had it for about a week until his utter incompetence of all things plant killed it…
He begged the MC for another but they were out of the plants they needed to make it and would have to go back to the human world to find more… He’s still mourning his loss… Poor Henry 4.0…
Satan
Well… He’s called this MC “salt of the Earth” and he does truly mean it. Take of that what you will.
He doesn’t get much in the way of intellectual conversation out of this mortal UNLESS he’s talking about plants, farming, or botany… Interesting topics and complex in their own right to be sure, but that’s pretty much their wheelhouse and they like it there.
That being said, the feats that they can perform are genuinely mind-blowing! They are the ONLY person he has ever met who can cultivate the Devildom’s own ultra-rare Phantom Orchid, a plant only blooms when it reaches a perfect state of undeath (i.e. both taken care of and neglected just enough so that it's only barely alive. The balance is so tricky to master that one hasn’t bloomed down there for centuries!)
There’s also something just genuinely relaxing about watching them work or helping them in the gardens… More so than he’d ever expected from such a simple activity.
He admits that he’s taken quite a few strolls through the flower-filled courtyard of the Demon Lord’s Castle just to admire its beauty... But anything that they can grow just blows all of that out of the water!
They even taught him several magic botanical techniques so now he can grow some pretty mad plants himself. Lucifer never expected to find that giant Venus Flytrap in his closet, but one was there regardless. 😏
Just… out of curiosity one day, he asked the MC if they could make him a new kind of catnip. Not for any nefarious reason! You know… just for research purposes…
The nip they made was so effective that the House grounds were FILLED with nipped-up cats for a whole month! He was in Heaven!! (and Lucifer practically wiped those plants from existence so he couldn’t get any more… asshole...)
That must have inspired them because they apparently made a demons-only version that they told him about WELL after the fact. Had he known, he probably would have burned the stuff on principle... Do you know how dangerous demon-nip could be to them? Experiment responsibly, MC!
Asmodeus 
Ehhhh, gardening SOUNDS like one of those things that should be super Devilgram-able, but then you realize how sweaty and dirty you get in the process and it’s a huge turn off… Sorry MC.
When they first came down to the Devildom, he thought two things: 1) Such a sweet little flower child, as adorable as they were, would never survive; and 2) even if they could, he would never ever see eye-to-eye with them on the “wonders” of getting all up in the dirt.
Well, he was right about 2, but certainly not 1. Personally, he thinks his brothers worry about them too much, they ARE still a demigod.
At one point he saw a pack of hellhounds almost trample one of their vegetable gardens and they lost it. Word to the wise, never try to take on a child of Demeter in their own garden. Those hounds were wrapped up in rose vines before they could even yelp...
Yeah, the MC would be fine.
That being said, while everybody else clamors over their produce, he thinks that their flowers are really where it’s at!
Taking just five minutes in one of their gardens is something else... He’s never seen blossoms as healthy and immaculate in all the Devildom before! Their beauty could (almost) rivals his own! What they do isn’t just a hobby, it’s an art.
He’s taken multiple pictures with their blossoms and they go viral every time. It’s so rare to actually see gorgeous, petal-filled flowers in the Devildom, most of the native plants are of the man-eating variety.
His only complaint about this MC is that they seem to feel much more at home in work clothes and dirt than they do in any sort of party-look he tries to give them… Cute as they are, they can afford to gussy up sometimes can’t they? Mud and grass stains don’t make for a good look, sorry.
Beelzebub 
Beel gardens and the MC gardens as well. Add on that they seem to be able to grow all manner of fruits and veggies and he likes this one. A lot.
They had just finished apple-picking when the portal nabbed them so they had a massive basket of apples at the time. Naturally, Beel more or less stole the thing on sight, but the apples inside were so juicy and good that he almost shook them down for more on the spot!
Imagine his surprise when they, half pleadingly, explained to him that if he got them some seeds they could just grow more… and it wouldn’t even take that long.
To be clear, the formula he saw was this: Get seeds > bring seeds to mortal > mortal grows seeds > mortal makes endless supply of food….
Congratulations MC, you’ve now earned the sixthborn’s eternal loyalty after a grand total of… two minutes. He didn’t even know their name, but he was willing to take a bullet for them (provided he got more of those apples).
The next several months were spent with Beel attached to them to the hip in some way, but honestly? It was just so wholesome anyway…
If he’s helping in the garden, he never complains. He does most of the heavy lifting and actually likes being out there with them (unlike others...)
Many afternoons were spent sitting under fruit trees and talking. Sometimes, they go to the trouble of preparing a picnic or something but it would always inevitably end with Beel plucking the whole tree clean of whatever ripe (or unripe) fruit he can get his hands on with a smile. 
The MC never minded though. That’s just another excuse to grow more, right?
His only problem was when the MC would sneak out to the forest… especially when they get too antsy and just go alone. 
He HATES it when they do that! How is he supposed to keep them safe if they just wander off?? He knows that they have a special connection to nature and all, but it isn’t safe…
He’s flown in and scooped them back up to the House on numerous occasions and his “talking tos” get sterner after every rescue... Please stay put, MC! He’d have so many reasons to be sad if you were eaten… 😔
Belphegor 
Okay, he was looking for a capable, if not gullible, human. Not a shoeless flower hippy!
He honestly wasn't expecting much out of this one... Damn their little heart because they did genuinely believed his lies, it’s just that they weren't… well… They were really good at gardening.
… And it grew kind of hard to keep hating them whenever they'd show up just to give him fresh berries or a bouquet to see him smile… He may claim that his heart is made of nightmares and orphan tears, but who doesn’t enjoy being given a batch of flowers? 
Damn their sweetness too… Right to here.
When it came time to kill them he had a heavier heart than he thought he would, but kind of saw it like putting down the sacrificial lamb. Gotta be done to reach better goals... Stiff upper lip and all that.
Unfortunately for him, they had taken to carrying packets of demon-nip with them as a self-defense measure…
He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected when they shouted “Get nipped!” at him mid-attack, but it wasn’t a face full of some smelly herb! Like, really smelly…! Actually, that smelt kind of good… Hold on.
Turns out murderous rage really doesn’t last long after you get what is effectively ultra-strong catnip thrown in your face. They ended up having to go and tell Lucifer what happened themselves because Belphie was way too blissed out on the floor to do anything... They were legitimately worried they might have fried his brain...
He’s told the effects of the demon-nip lasted three days. He doesn’t know, because he hardly remembers any of it... They described him as like he was high on “weed” and “ecstasy” at the same time but he doesn’t know what either of those are either so it wasn’t helpful…
Truthfully, they were so nice to him while he was recovering that he couldn’t even be mad afterwards so all's well that ends well? Either way, he’s sleeping under their orchard trees from now on. It’s peaceful out there...
They burnt all that nip though. It’s some strong stuff...
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the-insomniac-emporium · 4 years ago
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Wounded Love (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader)
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: M for mature. Blood, more blood, heavy language, seriously lots of blood. Literally the bloodiest/most detailed thing I've written. Genre: Super angst with some fluff to ease the pain. We're talking putting honey in your cup of poison to make it taste better. The ending is split, with both a happy and a sad ending. Warnings: Minor surgery (technically?) while the patient is fully awake (that's the reader, btws), blood loss, graphic depiction of a wound and how said wound is taken care of. Possible trigger for self-harm, as the reader is performing part of the surgery themselves. Also brief mention of cannibalism in the bad ending. This may very well be a Dead Dove: Do Not Eat sort of thing. Notes: While I have more medical knowledge than the average person, due to my Girl Scouts training + having a mother as a nurse, I am in no way shape or form a medical professional, and do not suggest that the methods of treatment used in this fic be taken seriously. If you find yourself seriously injured, do not attempt to replicate anything you read here. Only a portion of this is based on a real-ass incident I went through, the rest is based on a dream, and what I experienced was not what you want to do in an emergency.
{Wounded Love}
This was a mistake. Blood stains your leg, your fingers, and bruises start to form all over your exhausted body. And for what? Why had you, a tiny, fragile human, dared to pass through this damned, lycan-infested forest? Because a woman who didn’t even love you asked you to. Now you were going to die, body certain to get left out in the cold or reduced to a pile of gnawed bones. If you had more strength remaining, you might have slammed your hand into the ground in frustration, or screamed until your lungs burned from something other than frost.
But that wouldn’t get you anywhere. Wouldn’t help you get back to the castle, wouldn’t ease the racing of your heart. So you settle for the only thing that might do any good: One quick motion pulls the scarf from your neck, sending a chill down your spine that you promptly ignore. Even with shaky hands and numb fingers, your experience is enough to let you wrap the cloth around your leg, tying the ends in a knot to secure it. The pressure hurts, just not enough for you to prefer bleeding out. A test step reveals that walking is mildly more difficult now.
“I’m going to haunt her,” you muse, under your breath, tears starting to freeze at the corner of your eyes. Still, you are as quietly determined as ever, and so once more you limp down the path. Every time you put weight on your injured leg it protests harder. If not for the snow and ice covering the ground, you might have quickly searched for a walking stick. “What could be so important about this damn package? Couldn’t Doug or whatever-his-fucking-name-is deliver it? Man can practically teleport, and here I am, watching as blood loss and hypothermia race to see who can kill me first.”
Gods were you angry. Why had this happened so soon after you had settled in? Finally you had been comfortable in Castle Dimitrescu, no longer as frightened of the residents, even finding them… charming, in a way. Then the Lady of house called to you for what she claimed to be a simple errand. You had believed her, even when she explained that you would have to leave the relative safety of her home. What a fool you had been.
“What a fool she must be,” you murmur, “to think me safe here. To think I could outlast wolfmen prowling the village outskirts.” Would she even care if she saw you now? Would she be surprised, disappointed? Would she do something to change your fate? There was no reason for her to do so. It didn’t matter how much you had helped her, how much she claimed to appreciate what you did (heavy lifting, repair of clothing, massages). You were as replaceable as any other Maiden there was. And that, that was what made you have a double-take. It came to you in that moment, a thought so painful that you could not deny it was the truth. “She never thought I would survive.”
Bitterness coats your tongue, like blood in your throat, and your brain demands that you destroy your cargo, the very thing that got you sent here in the first place. You almost do it. Feet stopping, arms shrugging the carrying straps off, bloody hands taking hold of it. Tears fall, just two, and hit the package. At that moment your plan changed. This new idea would be far, far more satisfying… as long as you succeeded.
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Spite was one hell of a drug. Enough of it and you could march your warm corpse right back to the castle, fist banging on the front door with everything you had. The path had been shorter than you thought, thankfully, but it had still taken so much out of you. Now you were leaning against the door, sliding down it, unable to support your own weight. Nothing inside the castle stirred. Were they ignoring you? Was Alcina really going to let you die inches from your “home”? Fuck that, you thought.
“Alcina!” You scream, loud as you can, startling the birds in the distant trees. The word echoes around you and rattles inside your ribs. It’s not enough. “Damn it, I am seconds away from dying, get out here now so I can look you in your fucking eyes!” Something tears a little in your throat, turning the last of your words into a hellish screech, leaving you to gasp and croak in the snow. You go to wipe your tear-filled eyes with your hands, only to remember just how much blood they’re covered in.
Sobs overtake you in just a few moments. You’re blinded by tears, deafened by sorrows, and numb from all the cold. In the aching seconds before you black out, you can only barely make out the silhouette of someone rushing to your side…
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The first thing you feel when you wake up is mind searing pain. You try to jolt upwards, only to find a pair of strong, gloved hands holding you down. Someone shouts something, but you can’t make it out, and you feel another hand gently squeeze one of your own. Pained gasps escape your throat one after the other, but whatever is hurting you doesn’t stop. It takes a full minute for you to adjust enough to make sense of where you are. At last, you understand what’s being said.
“-it’s okay, shhh, please, we’re trying to help,” says none other than Lady Dimitrescu herself. She’s the one holding your hand, doing her best not to hurt you with her grip, trying desperately to calm you down. One the other side of you, Cassandra is positioned to hold you down. There’s a tight-lipped scowl on her face, and her brow is furrowed, but she’s not looking at your face, but rather eying somewhere in the opposite direction. Following her gaze, you find her older sister is sitting near your injured leg, and is undeniably the source of some of your pain. In one hand she holds a bottle of alcohol (notably not the wine her family produces), the other holding a wet cloth to your wound. No wonder it stings so much.
“Shit, shit, stop,” you growl, barely getting the words out. But all anyone does is look at you. Alcina’s mouth opens to speak, only for you to cut her off. “I’ve got medical training, for the love of Mother Miranda let me help! How long have I been unconscious?” This time Bela stops, glancing at her mother for direction. The grip on your torso grows looser, with Cassandra evidently heeding your words, and you take the chance to sit up, careful not to move your leg. At this point you realize that there’s a needle of sorts in your arm, attached to a tube, which trails up into a blood bag. It’s clearly been improvised with equipment from the “wine-making” part of the castle.
“Fifteen minutes at most,” a new voice chimes, from somewhere behind you. “I got that cloth you wanted, mother, but something tells me I’m not done fetching things.” Ah, Daniela Dimitrescu. Was the whole family helping you?... Why? As much as you wanted answers, there wasn’t (currently) time for questions. Not when one glance at your leg tells you that some of your flesh is rapidly decomposing. The wound was made only an hour ago, and already it was getting deadlier than you could even process.
“I need a sharp, clean knife, a needle with thread, a glass of water, and someone needs to put a metal tool, sterilized, on the stove, right now,” you said, finding it easier to talk now that no one was cleansing your wound. Without hesitation Daniela dispersed into a cloud of insects, heading towards the kitchen, while Cassandra stood up and moved towards the stairs.
“Guess I’ll get the needle,” she said, sounding rather unenthusiastic.
“What are you planning?” Alcina asks, more concerned than you had ever heard her before. Attempting to reassure her, you manage a small smile before explaining.
“Got scratched and slobbered on by a lycan. Whatever they have, it’s infectious. If I want to save my leg, or at least have a chance at surviving, I have to take measures to reduce the likelihood of an infection,” you say. Now Alcina is slowly stroking her thumb across your hand, eyes narrowed with concern. There’s a look on her face that you can’t quite parse, something she’s not saying. For now you ignore it and continue going over your plan. “The best thing would be to amputate. The tourniquet might have helped prevent the saliva from getting further into my body- and I do mean might- but I can’t keep it on forever. Problem is… I don’t want to lose it. God, I’m terrified of that, and with what we have in the castle I… I’d be more likely to die of shock than not. So, well, forget that idea.
“I’m just going to remove the wound. By making a bigger wound. It’s crazy, I know, but this will kill me if we do nothing. It will probably kill me if we do. The technical term is some shit like ‘de-bride-ing’?... No, debridement, I think. Except normally the poor fucker getting cut open is asleep for the procedure.” By the time you’re done, Lady Dimitrescu is looking at you with horror. Yeah, you had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate the idea. “Look, if this is too much… if it’s not worth saving me, if you’d rather give me a quick death, I understand. If I were-”
“Don’t be foolish, dear. You will not die, not as long as something can be done about it,” Alcina replies, quickly, eager to stop hearing you talk about dying. It’s… strange to hear her sound so confident about saving you, even stranger to realize what she called you. As if reading your thoughts, she shifts in her seat, avoiding your gaze for a moment. Shyness didn’t suit her, and you imagined it was more about her finding the right words. When she speaks, she’s looking right at you again. “I have hesitated to tell you the truth, and now I find the world playing a cruel trick on me, trying to take that which I adore. But I don’t want to aggravate your stress right now. Please, think nothing of what I have said.”
Before you could reply, footsteps reached your ears, and soon enough Daniela returns. In one hand she holds a large pitcher of water. In the other? Several knives, of various sizes, one of which you’re pretty sure you’ve seen Cassandra playing with before. As soon as you see her your face lights up, glad to be able to start the procedure.
“Oh thank fuck- or, I mean, thank you, Lady Daniela,” you stutter, reaching out as she offers you the items. Thankfully Bela had already made room on the table at your side, where she had set the bottle of alcohol down. For a moment you had forgotten that she was there. Had she already known about her mother’s feelings? Based on her lack of reaction, you could only assume that she was well aware. “I’m gonna scream, B-T-dubs. Just, uh, cover your ears?” You offer, already holding your chosen knife (big enough to be effective, small enough to offer precision).
“So… you’re going to do this yourself? Didn’t think you had it in you, red. Try not to cut anything important. Wouldn’t want to have to clean that mess up,” Daniela teases. As soon as she’s finished she has to shift into a swarm, as Bela flat out throws a knife at her. For a moment you freeze, watching as Alcina rises to her full height, staring her eldest daughter down. Behind her, Daniela reforms, clearly using her mother as a shield. “I was just trying to relieve the tension, jeez. It’s like you think she’s already dead.”
“Don’t speak another word!” Alcina snaps, sending a frightening stare towards Daniela. You cough, awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Meanwhile Bela is pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers, clearly tired of dealing with her sister’s sense of humor. “No one will speak a word until this is finished, unless my dear needs something, understood?” Both the girls nod at that, neither feeling a need to risk any further ire.
“I’m just going to start working now,” you awkwardly chime, taking a deep breath before leaning in towards your injured leg. On closer inspection you can see a strange, dark residue in the wound. They’re specks, scattered along the length of it, and they seem more common the closer you look to the gash’s center. Gross, you think. Half curious, half checking for legitimate reasons, you bring your other hand to the cut and gently spread both sides apart. It hurts like hell, and you have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from screaming. But sure enough, the residue is practically solid at the deepest point of the wound. “Those lycans really should be on leashes.”
Out of the corner of your eye you can see Daniela exchange looks with Bela, but neither of them disobey their mother (yet). Shaking the thought away, you finally get to the brunt of the task at hand. Your hand moves slowly, reluctant to inflict such damage against its own body. As soon as the tip of the knife touches your skin, you start to doubt your ability to do this. It takes looking at Alcina, seeing the way she watches you with equal parts concern and tenderness, to remind you why you’re doing this. Death just wasn’t something you could accept right now; not after what she had said, what she had implied.
The knife is fantastically sharp. Hardly any pressure is needed before your flesh gives away, cells letting go of their neighbors like it was a casual affair. You start at the left side of your injury, digging down a little, trying to only go as deep as you needed to. Tears formed in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away. As the first of many screams leaves your mouth, you turn and twist the knife, cutting to the right, then up. Like scooping the seeds out of a pumpkin. Fresh blood springs from the wound, starting to fill up the crevice. Quickly you discard the skin you removed by tossing it into the same bowl that Bela had put a bloody towel in earlier.
“Yes,” you shudder through gritted teeth, “this hurts so fucking bad. No, I don’t need someone to take over yet.” At this point neither of the present sisters are looking at you, seeming oddly uncomfortable at the sight of you cut up like this. Hadn’t they done worse to your fellow Maidens?... Whatever, the thought couldn’t last long when you still had work to do.
Next you take a fresh, damp cloth and dab at your injury, ignoring how it throbbed beneath your touch. Then you resumed cutting, forced to press the knife deeper in order to remove the spreading residue. If you had been a scientist, this would have been utterly fascinating to observe. Whatever had been in the lycan’s saliva was slowly eating at your flesh, but not outright dissolving it. No, it simply left the skin where it was, but killed and rapidly broke it down. Yes, it would have been fascinating, if not for the fact that there was a chance you wouldn’t be able to outpace the bacteria.
With this in mind you force yourself to hold in your next scream, hoping to make it easier for you to focus. The knife continued to cut, going lower, setting nerves alight as it did. Your vision starts to blur, and for a few seconds you think you’re going to black out. Someone says something you don’t hear, and then suddenly there’s a hand on top of your own. When your vision clears you see Bela is responsible, her grip keeping you from dropping the knife. She doesn’t let go until you give her a clear nod. Even then, she seems reluctant to let you continue.
Around this time is when Cassandra returns. Her footsteps catch your attention (it’s your understanding that carrying objects is much harder in swarm mode), and you spare her a quick glance before getting back to work. A few moments later she’s placing a set of needles and a long spool of thread next to you. Ironically, they’re the same tools that you’ve used to repair and adjust Alcina’s dresses over the past year. Hopefully they work just as well on flesh, you think. Your next thoughts are canceled out by unbelievable pain. More cries leave your lips, and your hand starts shaking. Panic is settling in fast, your movements getting sharper, leading you to make a brash decision: Time to care less about precision and more about speed.
“Distract me, please,” you gasp between grunts. No one responds at first, and you know they need clarification. Speaking is getting harder by the second, but you do your best. “Brain can’t process many stimulants, same time. Just- fuck- trace skin around wound, touch hair, anything.” Somewhere between your semi-broken sentences and screams, Alcina gets the message. She’s moving closer, now, behind you, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other rubbing gentle circles on your undamaged leg. Across from you Daniela is too busy pacing to help, though you can hardly blame her.
“Should I get the metal thing from the stove?” Cassandra asks, silently hoping that Dani hadn’t assumed someone else was going to handle that part. You’re still in too much pain to talk, so you half nod half grunt in response. Not bothering to say anything, the middle child takes off, swarm moving at what might be a new speed record.
As much as your hands are shaking, you still manage to cut away another strip of flesh, tossing it aside with even less care than before. This time Bela wipes the wound for you, practically reading your mind. The moment her hands are completely out of the way you start cutting again, crying out, throat shredded to pieces from all your screaming. Alcina sounds like she might be close to sobbing, but she doesn’t stop her movements, doing her best to distract you just like you had asked. Even Bela helps, now, tracing spots around your injury whenever she knows she won’t be in your way. The effect is minor, in the end, hardly making a dent in how much pain you’re processing.
If you survive this, though, you’re hugging every daughter as tight as you can and showering them with affection… but only after you finish doing the same for their mother.
“You are so brave,” Alcina murmurs next to your ear. It’s even clearer now how close she is to crying, her voice seconds away from cracking. Hearing her like this almost hurts as bad as the initial lycan attack did. “You are so strong. No other mortal could ever be your match. Do you understand, my dear? You are blessed, divine, and I love you so much.”
In any other setting, her words would leave you melting in her arms, radiating affection so strongly that you might as well have been radioactive. Instead, you are unable to respond, or even look her way. All you can do is press the knife to your skin again, showing your own feelings by destroying yourself for her.
The blade is starting to find more resistance, and you’re having to pause more often, spots appearing in your vision. Going faster only makes things worse, your hand threatening to slip. You’re determined to finish this, no matter what, but your need to control the situation is gradually making things worse. Alcina notices this before you do, and acts before you have a chance to protest.
“Bela, the knife,” she says, then tightens her grip on your waist. Your confusion shifts to panic as your arm is carefully, but forcefully, pulled away from your wound. “Can you finish the job?” It takes you a few moments to realize that Alcina isn’t talking to you. No, she’s speaking to her eldest daughter, who doesn’t hesitate to take the knife away from you. It’s so easy for her, between her strength and your weakness. “Don’t struggle. Let us finish this.”
Protests rise from your throat and die in your mouth. Pain flares harder now that Bela isn’t distracting you. Once more your vision goes dark, but this time there’s no pause, no hesitation. You are suffering, horribly, and the Dimitrescu family refuses to make you hurt longer than necessary. It’ll be over soon, you think, not knowing whether you refer to your pain or your life itself.
Something wet drops onto the back of your neck, then darkness overtakes you…
------------------------
“Damn those lycans, I should string Heisenberg up myself! They’re his responsibility, after all,” Lady Dimitrescu snarls, trying to ignore the tears in her eyes. Now that you’re unconscious, unable to hear what ails her, she feels free to voice her thoughts. “The damn things should never have come close to the path to the village.”
“What if she strayed from the path? Wouldn’t that explain it?” Bela suggests, even as her hands work to remove what seems to be the last piece of dead/infected flesh from your leg. She hates how the words feel in her mouth, hates suggesting that you of all people might have betrayed her mother’s trust. But it makes sense. After all, this whole mess, with you leaving the castle to retrieve a mysterious package, was all a test to see if you would try to run. It hadn’t been her idea, and Bela admitted to herself that she thought it was unnecessary.
“On the way back? Why would she bother getting the package if she intended to run?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, right as Cassandra returns. The middle child is practically juggling the metal spatula she’s carrying, irritated (not harmed) by the heat it produced. One of her brows perks up when she hears the conversation, but she keeps any thoughts she has to herself.
“Just a thought, mother, I didn’t quite believe it myself,” Bela chimes, after a pause. With that said she holds up her hand with pride, clutching between her fingers the last of the decaying flesh. The way the others react, one might have thought that a miracle had been performed. Daniela clapped her hands together, giggling a little, and finally stopped her pacing. “Don’t celebrate too much, now,” Bela reminded her, taking the spatula from Cassandra as she did. “There’s still plenty to do. It’s a good thing she’s not awake for this part.”
A good thing, indeed. She uses her fingers to spread the remaining skin a little, giving a quick examination, then deciding that she had successfully removed all remaining residue. Keeping her fingers where they were, she pressed the side of the spatula to your skin, putting the most pressure at the center of the wound. Three seconds passed, then she lifted her hand. A pause. She pressed it back into place, keeping a close eye on the affected area. This repeated several times, the gaps being necessary to prevent unintentional damage. Once the wound seemed properly closed she set the spatula aside.
“Is that it?... Did we save her?” Daniela asks, opting to finally sit down in a nearby chair. Something about her word choice makes both of her sisters scoff.
“I could sew it closed, as a precaution, but there’s no way I’d do it the way she had intended. It might be best to just give her time to rest, and see what she thinks when she gets back up,” Bela answers. For a moment her words hang in the air, but eventually Alcina gives a little nod and a hum.
“Very well. I shall carry her to my quarters, where she won’t be disturbed. Please, let one of the Maidens know to bring some food up this evening,” Alcina says, gently taking you into her arms as she does…
------------------------
BAD ENDING: It’s been six hours, with no sign of you waking up. Your other wounds had been examined, cleaned, and bandaged. Food had been carefully prepared and brought up to you, though it now remained on the bedside table, untouched. Alcina has gone to call Mother Miranda, intending to speak to her about the growing unrest of the lycans, as Heisenberg hadn’t answered his phone. For the first time since you returned you are alone. It is now, of all times, that you awaken. A gasp sends you into a coughing spree, forcing you into a sitting position. The space around you feels like it's moving, and your vision blurs. Blood spills from your mouth as you finally regain the ability to breathe.
Seconds later your vision clears, but what you see is enough to make you wish you couldn’t. The blood that spilled onto the sheets is a dark red… with even darker spots scattered throughout it. All at once you know what happened: Residue had hidden from you, or gone deeper than your wound, infecting you before you ever stood a chance. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but something deeper starts calling to you. Something older. Darker. It drags you to your feet, ignores the pain of your wounds, and sends you out the bedroom door.
Your mind is racing, thoughts never quite clear enough for you to understand. It doesn’t feel like you’re in control of your own movements. Was something else in charge, or were you operating on an infection powered autopilot? Answers weren’t coming, just bloodshed.
“You’re not supposed to be out of bed yet!” A voice calls out to you, making you turn to investigate. On the other end of the hallway is a maiden, one you instantly recognize. You’ve worked with her before, plenty of times, tag-teaming more tasks than you could count. She was like a sister to you. When she sees the blood staining your clothes, she gasps, then moves to support you. “Please, Lady Dimitrescu will be so upset if you-” her words melt into a blood curdling scream. For a moment you don’t understand.
And then you swallow, a chunk of hot meat slipping down your throat, and the scream dies down.
“What?...” You whisper, finally tasting the blood in your mouth, watching as your friend’s body falls to the floor. There’s a chunk of flesh missing from her neck, and the dots connect themselves in your head. You did that. Every part of you wants to scream, wants to cry out and beg someone to come kill you. Instead you fall to your knees, hard, uncaring. Your hands move themselves, grasping at the still warm corpse. Something has made you stronger, or at the very least removed the mental limits that kept you from destroying yourself. Flesh gives under your touch, tearing like paper, and you start crying as it reaches your mouth.
Footsteps approach, thundering fast, and you want to warn whoever it is. When you turn to look, you feel your hands let go of your meal. Your gaze meets that of a stunned Cassandra Dimitrescu, then drifts to the sickle in her hand.
“Kill me,” you growl, voice distorted, practically echoing. “Kill me now!” Not needing to be told a third time, Cassandra moves lightning quick, swarm-jumping forward before manifesting behind you, sickle dragging across your throat in one smooth motion. But it’s not enough. She realizes this, though, and slams her foot into your back, sending you tumbling forward. It’s enough to prevent you from countering, which gives her time to advance again, this time pulling a knife from her boot and driving it into the center of your back. When you scream, it’s not with your own voice, but that of a monster.
“Fucking fuck, what the fuck, red?” Daniella asks as she rounds the corner, eyes immediately landing on your bloodsoaked mouth. She’s quick to take in the scene, drawing a conclusion easily, even if it breaks her heart a little. Your vision fades as she approaches, and you know that it’s finally over. If only you had expired a few seconds earlier… because the last thing you hear is the startled cry of your would-be lover.
“No! No, darling, what happened-” Alcina finishes her sentence, but you do not hear it. You do not hear anything, anymore. You do not know it… but there will be hell to pay for your death.
------------------------
GOOD ENDING: When you awake, you find yourself in the softest sheets you’ve ever touched, a warm and familiar presence next to you. The first thing you see is Alcina’s sleeping face next to your own. She’s on her side, one arm around your waist, the covers pulled up to her hip. Warmth fills your chest as you take in the sight. For a few moments you just… appreciate this. Never before had you imagined that you would get to wake up next to the woman you loved so much. A sigh, one of bliss, leaves your lips. Slowly you move forward, gently placing a kiss to Alcina’s cheek. Seconds later her eyelids flutter open, and she tiredly takes you in.
“You’re… awake,” she murmurs, hardly awake herself. But her fatigue doesn’t last long. As soon as she’s fully processed the situation her eyes go wide. Then she’s pulling you closer, careful not to hurt you, and peppering little kisses over your face. “I’ve been so worried, dear. You scared us so much.” The hurt in her voice leaves you restless, making you curl up against her, desperate to soothe her worries. Moving hurts a little, but not enough to dissuade you from your goal.
“I’m sorry, love,” you say, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m okay, I’m alive, the plan worked out. You don’t have to fret for me anymore. I won’t leave you, I promise.” Slowly but surely, Alcina calms, exchanging kisses for softly running her fingers through your hair. There’s such love in her eyes that you can hardly believe you aren’t dreaming. “You’re amazing, Alcina. I could stay like this all day.”
“Maybe we should,” she offers, chuckling a little. Once again you give her a quick kiss, unable to resist the urge. “I should have never asked you to leave. I should have just trusted you.” The words give you pause, and you tilt your head in confusion. Realizing that you still didn’t know the full story, Alcina frowns. “The package is worthless, just a bundle of straw and a few rocks for weight. It was never what I cared about.”
Tension builds in your chest, and for a few seconds you have no idea how to react. It takes a minute for you to think, to connect the dots, but once you do it’s a tad bit easier to breathe. A scowl twists your lips as you think of what to say.
“If I had known that Heisenberg was forgoing his duties, I never would have sent you outside,” Alcina adds, the silence taking its toll on her.
“You shouldn’t have sent me either way,” you respond, bitterly, thinking of all that you had seen and heard on your journey. “I would have done anything to prove to you how I feel. There are other ways to show devotion- far less dangerous ways, at that.”
“I know, dear. You have every right to be angry… and watching you suffer has taught me all that I need to know,” Alcina says, still playing with your hair, trying to ease the tension. As upset as you about this recent revelation… it’s not enough to change how you feel about her, and you want her to understand that, fully and completely.
So you lean into her touch, let your eyes drift close for a moment, then softly place one of your arms around her as best as you can.
“We’ll need to talk about this more… just not right now. Right now, I need you, Alcina. I need to hold you, and be held by you, and just know that you’re here. That I’m here. That neither of us are going anywhere,” you say, resting your forehead against hers. “I need to feel safe, and your arms are the safest place I can imagine. Stay here with me?”
“It will be the easiest thing I have ever done.”
497 notes · View notes
xoxowrestlinggyrl · 3 years ago
Text
Backlash.
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Requested: Yes
Pairing: Dominik Mysterio x Afro-Latina Reader
Word Count: 2341
Warning[s]: Just one curse word! That’s all.
Summary: You are a wrestler with ten years of experience and a friend of the Mysterio family. Dominik has a massive crush on you. He asks for your help with training before Wrestlemania Backlash.
A/N: I'm back and better than ever. I hope you all loved this! Sorry for the wait to the person who requested this.
Days before Wrestlemania Backlash Rey and Dominik Mysterio were declared the number one contender for the Smackdown Tag-Team Titles. They will face the current champions, Bobby Roode and Dolph Ziggler at the upcoming PPV. You could not be happier for the father-son duo. The past few years, you have gotten close to the Mysterio family. Coincidently, it was during the time Dominik began his professional wrestling career. You have seen improve so much from when he first got in the ring to today. Since you already had your match, you were sitting on one of the crates backstage, checking your phone. When you heard the familiar voices of Dominik and Rey, you slipped your cellphone in your jeans pocket and hopped off the crate.
“Hey, future champions.” You greeted them with a smile on your face.
Dominik let out a small chuckle, “Future champions? Already predicting the results of Wrestlemania Backlash?” He teased.
You shrugged your shoulders, “Only this match since I am not on the card. I have to live vicariously through my favorite father-son duo.” You were joking with them. Seriously, you were excited about the match. Rey and Dominik have the chance to make history if they win the titles. Also, it will be Dominik’s very first title reign.
“I hope we don’t disappoint you, Y/N.” Rey let out a laugh as well. He looked between you and Dominik. “I have to go call Angie. She wanted to talk to me about renovating our house.” You and Dominik looked confused. This is the first either of you have heard about them wanting to remodel their home.
“That’s the first time I heard anything like that, padre.” Dominik looked at Rey.
Rey looked at Dominik, “It’s something your mother and I just started to talk about.” He “subtly” signaled to his son. Maybe, it is something you were not supposed to notice. You ended up noticing it though. Is there something going on? You did not want to think they are hiding something for you. They are some of your closest friends. You decided to dismiss any thoughts you had. It is not anything important, right?
“Hasta luego, hijo and Y/N,” The man told the two of you abruptly before walking away. Rey was in a hurry. He must really have to talk to Angie about the renovation, right?
Now, you and Dominik were left alone together. “Are you excited for the upcoming PPV?” You nudged him a little bit.
“I am.” Dominik stated before he looked down at the ground for a moment. There is something wrong with him. It concerned you a bit.
“What’s wrong, Dom?”
Dominik looked up from the ground, “I am just not sure if I am ready yet.”
“Dom… don’t doubt yourself, okay? You are more than ready and for this.” You placed your hand on his shoulder, looking up at him. “I have seen you improve so much over the past two years. You are amazing in the ring. I know Rey is so proud of you.” A smile grew on his face as he listened to you.
“Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it. I do have to ask you something…”
You watched as Dominik grew shy. Honestly, you were not sure what to expect for him to ask you. “Yes?”
“I was wondering if you and I could train together? It will help me get ready for the PPV. You are the great, Y/N, after all.”
You felt your cheeks start to warm up just a bit. You are thankful for your brown skin. It helped masked the blush a little bit.  “I’m not that great. I just have ten years of experience.”
“Ten years is not anything to sneeze at. You are so talented. It would be an honor to have you train me.”
You smiled at Dominik, “Yes, I would love to train you, Dominik. I’m going to go easy on you.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Dominik grinned at her.
“Are you free on Tuesday? If so, let’s go to the Performance Center to train.” You suggested to him.
“I am actually. Tuesday is perfect. You got yourself a date, Y/N.” Dominik’s eyes widen when he realized how it sounded. Your heart skipped a beat when he called your training, “a date”.
“I-I’m sorry. I-I I did not mean it that way. Uh, I was confirming that we are going together. You know? I mean, it’s not like you wouldn’t be bad for anyone to date—”
A slight laugh fell from your lips, finding this adorable. “I know what you mean. Don’t apologize.” You assured him. “It’s a date,” You were sure it was just a mistake on Dominik’s part.
~~~~~
It was Tuesday. The day you and Dominik were going to meet up at the Performance Center. You were running a few minutes late because you overslept. When you pulled up to the center, you see Dominik waiting outside. Since it is early in the morning, you managed to find a parking space. You got out of your car, grabbed your bag, and rushed to the front of the building. Your hair flowed in the Florida wind as you ran over to him. He smiled as he seen you. Dominik greeted you with a hug.
You hugged him back, “Sorry, I am late. I overslept.”
“That’s okay. It was just a few minutes.” Dominik stated, casually. He pulled away from the hug.
“Are you ready to train?” You asked with a grin on your face.
“Ready as I will ever be, Y/N.” Dominik opened the door for you, letting you into the Performance Center first. He entered in right after you.
The training is going smoothly. Right now, the two of you decided to take a break. You have no doubts in your mind Dominik is going to do great. However, you cannot deny the chance to help your friend. You were sitting in the middle of the ring, sipping on your water bottle. Dominik stared at you from the other side of the ring. He was not very subtle about it. You closed the bottle as you looked over at him.
“What? Is there something wrong?”
Dominik was thrown out of the trance he was in, “Your water bottle is shaped weird.” Your eyebrows raised, looking at the bottle and back at him. He had a playful tone in his voice.
“Oh yeah? Those are fighting words. This bottle is expensive!” The bottle is not expensive. It was at an average price. You and Dominik joked like this, constantly. You set it down to the side, getting up from where you were seated in the ring.
“Well, let’s fight then.” Dominik joked as he got up.
The two of you began “fighting”. Dominik began tickling you. You let out a loud laugh. “You’re a cheater!” You exclaimed in between laughs.
“You’re the veteran here, Y/N.” Dominik joked as he continued to tickle you. An idea popped into your mind. You launched yourself at him. You and Dominik landed on the mat with you on top of him. Laughs fell from both of your lips.
“You got me,” Dominik stated while laughing.
“Yeah! I do.” You were still laughing to. Your laugh started to fade a bit as you both stared into each other’s eyes. His dark brown eyes are just so beautiful and inviting. He began to lean in to kiss you, and you did just the same. Your lips nearly brushed his when you were quickly reminded how wrong this would be. You are so close with the Mysterio family! How will they react? Then, you pulled away before you both could kiss.
“We should get back to training.” You began getting up. Dominik looked confused, but he nodded his head. Even though you both went back training, it was so awkward. Neither of you could handle it, so the training was cut short. You hightailed out of the performance center, getting into your car.
“Shit.” She huffed under your breath as you slammed your fist in the steering wheel.  Why did you have to make things so awkward?
~~~~
The night of Wrestlemania Backlash came. You avoided Dominik through the week.  Honestly, you did not know how to talk to him about this. You wrecked things by pulling away. What if he is mad? Avoiding him probably made things a whole lot worse. You were dressed up casually since you were not scheduled tonight. You felt a tap on your shoulder. When you turned around, you gasped when she seen Aalyah. It has been a while since you have seen her. You pulled her into a hug instantly.
“I can tell you’ve missed me,” Aalyah joked as you hugged her.
You nodded her head, “I really have. There is so much we need to catch up on.” You both pulled away from the hug.
“I couldn’t agree more, Y/N.” The two of you began walking down the hall together. The PPV hasn’t started yet. Rey and Dominik’s match is the third one on the card. It gives you ample amount of time to catch up with Aalyah and talk.
While the two of you were catching up, Aalyah decided to address the elephant in the room. “What is going on with you and Dom? He told me what happened.”
You looked down at the ground. This is the conversation you were dreading. However, you should have known this was going to happen.
“Y/N?” She looked at you.
A sigh fell from your lips as you looked at her, “I totally ruined it with him. I panicked when we were about to kiss. I was afraid of what your family would think because I have been so close with you all for such a long time now. I don’t want you all to think the only reason why I wanted to be friends with the family was to get to Dominik.”
Aalyah looked at you, “Come on, Y/N/N. You know way better to believe we’d think that. We’ve been friends for way too long to believe that was your intent. If you want to know, Dominik has a massive crush on you. He fell for you the first time he met you. He is going to be pissed I told you, but he should have said something a long time ago.” The young woman let out a slight laugh. A Cheshire grin formed on your lips, knowing Dominik feels the same way about you. You got to make this right.
“I doubt he is going to be pissed when he knows I feel the same way.” You slightly joked. He can’t be mad, right?
~~~~
You and Aalyah were sitting backstage, watching Dominik and Rey’s match. The two of you were on pins and needles now. The father and son tag-team had to dig deep in this match. It was a close one. Rey hit Bobby with the 619 and tagged in Dominik. He climbed on the top rope and landed a Frog Splash on Roode. (Eddie would’ve been so proud). He went for the pin. The referee began counting. Dominik got the three-count. You and Aalyah jumped up from your seats, screaming. You and Aalyah hugged each other before hurrying up to the guerrilla. The two of you managed to make it up there before anyone else. The father and son tag-team walked up the ramp. Dominik smile faltered a bit as soon as he seen you. He looked surprised to see you here.
Rey looked at Aalyah. The two of them began walking away. They know you and Dominik needed to talk.
“Congratulations, Rey.” You stated before turning to look at Dominik. “Hi, Dom. You did amazing. I told you that you could do it.”
Dominik grinned, “Thank you, Y/N/N for believing me.” He had his tag-team belt on his shoulder. There was an awkward silence between you two.
“I am sorry about the other day. I crossed the line, and I never intended on making you feel uncomfortable around me.” Dominik apologized as he looked at you. He looked into your eyes.
You looked up at him, “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry for avoiding you the whole week. It wasn’t anything you did. I was scared…” You began.
Dominik’s eyes furrowed in confusion. “Scared of what? Talk to me, Y/N. You know you can tell me anything, right?”
A sigh fell from your lips, “It’s stupid. I was worried your family might think I only became friends with them just to get to you.” You told him. Dominik eyes narrowed a bit. “I know, it doesn’t make any sense.”
A small laugh fell from his lips, “Not at all. They were waiting for the day you and I would get together. I’ve had a big crush on you since the first day we met, Y/N. I never said anything because I didn’t think I had a chance.” Dominik cheeks started to blush just a little bit as he said this. You couldn’t stop the smile from forming on your lips.
“Dom, you have always had a chance with me. I’ve liked you for a while now. As you know, I was nervous too.” You admitted as well.
Dominik’s beautiful brown eyes were staring into your eyes. He leaned in to kiss you. This time around, you didn’t pull away. You and Dominik kissed, and it felt right. This was meant to be.
“Finally! We’ve been waiting on this forever.” You and Dominik pulled away to see Rey and Aalyah standing there.
Dominik sighed, “Dad, come on. This was a moment with Y/N and I.” He pointed out to Rey.
“Not anymore. We have to celebrate winning the Smackdown Tag-Team titles and your relationship with Y/N finally blossoming.” Rey stated while Aalyah nodded her head.
“He’s right. This is night we have to celebrate.” You held Dominik’s hand.
“You are right about that one, beautiful.” Dominik agreed with you as you both began walking down the hall, following Rey and Aalyah.
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welkinsky · 4 years ago
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A-Z Headcanon | Rock Lee X Re
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@lady-doggo​ this one’s for you :D
A-Z Headcanons Masterlist
Masterlist
Warning: 18+ Content
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Obviously, you are going to be all drained after doing it, because come one.. Lee. So say no more, your man is already with a glass of water and towels and he honestly is so nice and sweet the entire time.
He might also be crying over the fact that you are HIS! Like wow, you're his! HIS!
B = Body part (Their favorite body part of their partner’s)
All. Of. You.! *But your thighs and your neck*
He loves to keep touching them again and again. You two cuddling? He needs to have one leg over your thigh and his face buried in your neck.
Or you two watching a movie together or just chilling in general, either he will have one hand on your thigh or around your shoulder creasing your neck softly without even noticing it.
C = Cuddling
Cuddling with Lee is more like him making being a pillow for you. He loves when you just lay on him, that way he gets to hug you even tighter or you being the small spoon is another thing he will appreciate.
*But return the favor by being the big spoon sometimes too, the guy loves to nuzzle in your neck remember?*
D = Dirty Secret
When you two weren't dating, he may or may not have seen you changing after a bath but OBVIOUSLY not on purpose. He was just passing by when he thought to visit you since you just came back from a mission. He peeped through the window, but what dirty is that he could take his eyes off you, he tried but he can't. But you know what is even dirtier? You knew all along so you put on a show for him.
E = Experience 
You took his virginity. Yes, now don't argue with me. Bye. Read forward.
F = Favourite Position 
Either him on top if he is in control but doesn't mind you on top too, he loves it when you take control. That just shows that you are having a good time too.
G = Goofy
He has a bad habit to misunderstand the situation, and when he does that in a very serious situation, you being you, cannot control your giggles. At least you two calm everybody down with this little dynamic of yours, in intense times.
H = Hair 
You asked him if you can cut his hair, he is hesitant at first but lets you do it. If he likes the results, be ready for a weekly appointment with him.
I = Intimacy 
He is not every intimate with PDA in public because his words are enough. He'll say very embarrassing and intimate stuff with a straight face in front of everyone as if it is nothing but just absolutely obvious. You literally turn into a tomato and he's like "What? I WILL marry you." Yeah, that sorta stuff, straight up.
And is very intimate physically when you two are together alone. Expect hugs, kisses, especially neck kisses out of nowhere.
J = Jack Off 
No, he thinks that it is almost like cheating until you clarify that it is okay. It mainly consisted of you laughing at him and him being all fake angry and really embarrassed but still smiling watching you laugh.
But still won't do it that often.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
He doesn't have that many but would love to tie you up sometimes when he is REALLY feeling himself.
L = Location (Favourite places to do they do)
He likes doing it at home. But if you have any other ideas, he is shy but open to it *secretly wants to do it to*prefers
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Watching you in general? You doing anything? He admires you a lot okay? Also, we cannot deny the fact that you are good at combat too so whenever you beat the shit out of someone, expect it coming that night. Or as soon as you two get alone together.
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)
Lee won’t do anything that you aren’t okay with. You’re his world and he can’t imagine hurting you or making you uncomfortable.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
Lee abso-fucking-lutely loves eating you out. He’s actually really good at it. He had a huge performance pressure but once you guided him, he's a pro now. Lee is a fast learner and it didn’t take him long to figure out what makes you fall apart.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
He usually is a slow and sensual type of person but he is one moment away from beating that vibrator of yours if you say "faster" even once while doing it. Whatever YOU want remember?
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
So remember he gets turned on by watching you being a badass? Bro you ARE going to get a quickie that very day in a bathroom stall. 
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
He is not big on taking risks, but if you want it, he'll do it. Very cautious the entire time though.
S = Stamina 
Come one, we're talking about Lee here. Lee can go for as long as you want with no break.
T = Toy
Lee doesn’t own any. Lee generally prefers to use his own hands instead. But sometimes like to use a vibrator on you and then take you on once you are all ready.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He tried but always melted under your pleas. But you can TOTALLY do it back to him. He will fall for it easily.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
He is kinda loud. But if it is a risky place he's going to bury his face in the nape of your neck to avoid it but mostly to make sure that only you listen to them and you know what you're doing to him.
W = Wild Card (Just a random headcanon because I cannot think of anything starting with W)
He loves it when you cook for him. He's having a bad day? Cook him a gooood meal. He's going to pull you to his lap and feed you too while he rests his head on your shoulder. Run your hands through his hair, please. This way he feels acknowledged that you KNOW how hard he works. Sure he gets praises for him being the best at Taijutsu but he needs motivation and acknowledgment through the process too.
X = X-Ray
He is not a "buffed" buffed kind of guy but sure is full of muscles. Come on, he probably does like 1000000 pushups a day.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Not that much actually, he's more of an if you're down then I'm down kind of guy.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)
He makes sure that you are comfortable and once that is done. Goodnight world. He is KNOCKED OUT! Will try to stay up if you are in a chatty mood but since you know he already works too much the entire day, you let him sleep.
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mcyt-imagines · 4 years ago
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TommyInnit Confession HCs
This is a combination of an imagine and some headcanons, this is a new way of writing for me so let me know if you enjoyed this format! 
- Tommy realising he loves the reader and how he’d confess to them - 
Tommy definitely would deny being interested in the reader in the beginning.
It would probably be a natural progression of feelings but tommy just wouldn’t realise it until WAY too late.
Like he just catches himself thinking about them when he’s just doing schoolwork and chores. And then he’s aware of just how much his mind wanders to them. Far too often in his humble opinion.
He lays hints about his crush when talking with Tubbo. He’s real defensive about it though. “You much of a ladies man Tubbo?” Trying to discretely get advice without actually asking for any. And Tubbo being Tubbo means he completely missed all the hints Tommy was dropping. (Not that Tommy’s hints were any good)
His stream for sure notices a change in his behavior, more scatterbrained showing visible signs of stress maybe a little more irritable too. Tubbo definitely notices the changes too and asks him about it. 
Tubbo would probably ask tommy on stream or in private something along the lines of. “What’s up Tommy, you’ve been kinda uh, distracted lately…”
Tommy for suuuuuure blushes and stutters out a response that even Tubbo doesn’t buy. (So instead he talks to Tubbo about it off stream, doesn’t mention his crushes name, but he keeps Tubbo in the loop. Tubbo finds the whole thing very funny because of how defensive Tommy gets in response, however he offers his support to Tommy, obviously. “Even though I have no experience with romance Tommy. I’ll do my best to be the best wingman ever!” With a salute to Tommy on his webcam. Tubbo quickly leaves the call saying he needs to do some ‘research’ (he puts the word in quotation marks with a wink)
Tommy would be a stubborn flustered MESS if stream ever figured out that he was crushing on someone.
And of course they find out because Tubbo slips up and mentions Tommy having a crush.
By that point he is absolutely CONSUMED by his thoughts about the reader as the more he tries to not think about them the more he wishes he was with them.
He also would 10000% be ignoring or avoiding his crush for as long as possible because he knows he wouldn’t be able to utter a single word to their face. His usual ‘big man’ façade would be in absolute shambles if he were around the reader during this time.
There would be a lot of internal and external swearing from Tommy when he finally realises and accepts that he likes you though.
However, this acceptance doesn’t make him any less stressed because now he needs to figure out whether he is even going to tell you!
But he knows he can’t keep living like this as he can’t keep avoiding his crush forever. And he knows the next time he sees you he knows his heart is going to literally burst out of his chest. And he won’t be able to stop himself. So, he devises a plan.
He gets a pep talk from Tubbo in which they help brainstorm his confession plan but he finds himself messaging Wilbur one late night after his stream. “Hey, can I get some advice?” Wilbur is shocked. “Tommyinnit asking ME for advice? Never thought I’d see the day.”
Wilbur teases him for a short while surely. But when Tommy finally puts his pride aside and tells Wilbur about his crush he sobers up quick and dishes out some solid advice and support for Tommy. “In exchange for my services I better be meeting this crush of yours Tommy.” “You got it big man.”
After speaking with Wilbur Tommy feels as if he can finally breathe for the first time in weeks since he first started to realise his feelings for the reader.
CONFESSION DAY!
Tommy sends the reader a text in the mid-morning asking if they wanted to hang out sometime later today. Also apologizing for how ‘busy’ he’s been the last few weeks using schoolwork or chores as his excuse.
He’s furiously texting Tubbo the WHOLE time he’s waiting for a reply from them. Tubbo pulls Tommy onto Minecraft to try and take his mind off the situation. Offline of course, Tommy would not be able to handle streaming right now.
Even Wilbur sends him a few messages to check in, jumping on discord to give his ear for Tommy to chew off. Which he most definitely does.
Eventually his phone dings and Tommy DIVES for it. “THEY SAID YES!” Both Wilbur and Tubbo groan from Tommy’s mic peaking with his screech.
Tommy waits for a few minutes before replying per Tubbo’s request. “I read it online! You don’t want to seem too into them.” He proclaims with false authority as Wilbur chuckles in the background of the call.
The rest of the afternoon blurs for Tommy as he stays on call with Wilbur and Tubbo as they do their best to distract his overactive mind.
However, as the clock ticks on he knows he needs to start getting ready or he’s going to be late.
Wilbur demands that he choose Tommy’s outfit. So for the next half hour Tommy proceeds to perform a free fashion show for the two, only for Phil to join for a short while to give his two cents before going back to his stream.
Eventually Wilbur settles on what he dubbed “-a classic Tommyinnit look-” one of his favourite red shirts paired with one of his nicer black jackets and the dark charcoal pants his mum had made him get a few months ago for a wedding. They are very uncomfortable.
Tommy heaves a sigh as he thanks Wilbur and Tubbo for sticking around with him today. They both send him away, “Good luck Tommy!” “Go get ‘em big man.”
Tommy had agreed to meet the reader at the park, he thought dinner would have been a bit much. Wilbur and Tubbo both agreed on that front. This park was right near the water, so it had a great view of the sunset. He was still pretty chuffed about that fact, his chat was sooo wrong, he could be romantic if he wanted to after all.
Of course, he was a little late. He repeatedly told his mum to speed. She refused of course. His mother of course had noticed exactly what this ‘hang out’ was and had quizzed him about his crush the night prior.
“Don’t leave the car mum.” Tommy was quick to warn her, he did not want her to be anywhere near them. She didn’t need any more dirt on him to embarrass him with. She could end his whole streaming career in an instant if she wanted. A truly terrifying thought.
Tommy was quick to move near the waterfront puffing slightly, nose a tinge pink with the oncoming chilly wind from the lake. “Hey Tommy.” Tommy would freeze instantly before quickly turning with a forced smile, a little too big for his face. “Hey!”
His crush would lead Tommy over to the nearby bench they had been sitting on before he arrived. And they would definitely sit closer to Tommy than he would have wanted.
Tommy would be so obvious. Stuttering over his words, a LOT of frantic hand movements whenever he’s speaking to them.
Mid-conversation his crush starts to laugh. “Tommy I think I’ve figure out why you have been ‘busy’ recently.” Tommy stills immediately, sweat dripping off of him in POOLS. “H-Huh!?” He makes a noise in the back of his throat that he has NEVER made before.
This seems to only make his crush laugh more, they turn fully to him and take one of his clammy hands. He quickly goes to yank it from their grip knowing how sweaty it is. But their grip is strong, and surprisingly calm in contrast to his shaking hands. He gulps simply staring at the spot where their hands are touching. “Tommy.” His gaze snaps up to their smiling face hiding slight worry. “Breathe.” And he finally does. His tense shoulders drop, and their hand leaves his. And suddenly he’s laughing harder than he ever has before realizing how ridiculous he’s being right now. And when he looks over, so is his crush.
The conversation from that point on flows naturally as the two finally begin to catch up after not seeing each other for a few weeks.
Tommy finally realises how comfortable they make him feel. He simply stares at them as they speak. Awed that it took him this damn long to figure out he liked them.
His crush stops talking, noticing him staring. He jumps out of his thoughts, “Hey Tommy, take a picture it’ll last longer.” And suddenly he’s sweating all over again as they laugh.
His crush is having the time of their life watching ‘big man’ Tommy squirm beside them. Trying his best to scrounge up the courage to say something, anything to them.
They open their mouth to speak when suddenly Tommy yells, “I LIKE YOU!”
Tommy isn’t even looking at them, he has his eyes squeezed shut and he thrusts his arm outwards holding something which promptly shoves into his crush’s chest. Effectively winding them.
They wheeze in response, “Me too. Don’t know why though goD!” They push out through gasps of air, pressing a hand to their chest. Pain beginning to subside as Tommy realises he literally just punched his crush.
His jaw drops and his silence continues as they take what was in his hands. A small book.
A scrapbook.
His crush’s face softens as they flip through the photos, memories flooding back to them of days long gone by.
Tommy stayed up all night yesterday just to finish the final details on the scrapbook, it isn’t the most aesthetically pleasing thing. (Even he knows that) But he put his heart and soul into it.
“Very sweet of you Tommy. But I didn’t bring anything for you…” They end up mumbling in response. Tommy only grins. “So you like it?” They scoff and finally pull Tommy in for a hug. He stills for a moment, then melts into their hold.
Tommy mumbles his apology for literally punching them into his crush’s hair. They giggle into his chest in response, letting him know that it’s fine, they’re okay. Tommy mumbles something incoherent into their hair and presses a cautionary kiss to the top of their head.
“AWWWWW!” A loud noise comes from behind their bench. Tommy and his crush dive apart only to see Tommy’s mum hidden behind a nearby tree.
“MUUUUUUUUUM!” Tommy screeches as his crush cackles out a laugh.
Tommy’s mum ends up driving his crush home as well, they sit in the back seat of the car holding hands.
“This didn’t go at all how I’d planned…” Tommy complains with a deep pout. “Oh really? Your plan didn’t involve punching me? Huh?” Their crush sniggers at him.
“Oh! His real plan-“ His mother starts and in order to cut her off Tommy just starts yelling at the top of his lungs “Nononono!!”. Causing his crush to burst into laughter as the two try to increase their volumes to drown out the other.
His crush shakes their head with a grin and wonders what the hell they’ve just gotten themselves into.
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