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keiarchived · 4 years

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Freshman Year

stoner!Atsumu x f!innocent!reader x stoner!Suna ft stoner!Osamu

warnings: Drug (weed), gangbang, oral (giving), anal, dubcon, fucking whilst high, university!au, sex tape, cockwarming, corruption kink, sleepy writing

words: 1.8k

To say you were inexperienced, naive and artless, they weren’t wrong. You’re the last person who would cheat on their essay and cause yet another headache to your lecturer. You’re the classic ‘goodie two shoes’ as Atsumu calls you, the same couldn’t be said about both Miya twins and Suna, however.

They are anything but good.

You should’ve listened to those whispers of warnings and rumours that made their way around the campus, how they’re the last people you’d want to get involved with despite their popularity among students. You either love them or hate them, there’s no in-between with valid reasons.

You don’t belong in their world, you know that. But it doesn’t stop Suna from wanting to strip the innocent of you. Maybe it's the way you smiled nervously at him or maybe the glare you gave Atsumu whenever he made those snarky comments, but one thing for sure is that he wants to show you what you’ve been missing.

“Suna...” It almost came out as a whine whilst your head fell back against his shoulder, dark iris swallowing those rings of colours whilst your lips parted delicately with a cute pout. “Hmm? What’s wrong?” He coo, arm resting snuggly and comfortably around your waist as he pulls you even closer to press a kiss on your temple. Chilling at the Miya’s with Suna and his friends has become a regular thing ever since your first proper encounter with him at the party, where your friend ditched you for another guy. Perhaps you should’ve seen through him before accepting his offer to keep your company that night, maybe then you could’ve avoided whatever this is between you and Suna. But would you’ve pushed him away if given the chance?

“Wan’ more...” You whimpered, earning a chuckle from the man as he peppered your cheeks with few more playful kisses before pulling away. “What do you want, princess? C’mon, use your words” Suna love to see it when you’re desperate like this in his arms, staring up at him with those bleary eyes, cheeks flustered and small hands trembling as you grasp at his jacket with wants. “Mmn... smoke... wan’ more of smoke...” You slurred between each hitched breath of yours, feeling a few pairs of eyes glued onto the both of you as Suna leaned closer after taking a drag of his blunt before letting the heavy white smoke slips past your plump lips like weightless velvet. Oh, if only you knew how alluring you are when taking every ounce of the fumes from him greedily. Close enough for both of your lips to slot together, but far away enough for a grin to tug at his lips before pulling away. “Still not used to taking it on your own hm?” Or maybe you just adore these tingles dancing against your skin every time Suna shotguns it to you, as if he’s feeding you his essence in the most sexual way possible.

“Ya babying her too much, Suna. Gonna end up spoiling her.” Atsumu wasn’t wrong, ever since his friend introduced you to an unfamiliar world of ecstasy, he has you wrapped around his fingers like a puppy on a leash. “Why not, jealous Tsumu?” You could barely listen to their conversation as a giggle slipped past your lips, Suna could still remember the time you took your first hit. Trying to copy him only for those bitter smoke tickles your throat, making you cough with tears swelling from your eyes. It was cute though, he praised you for being a good girl, done so well on your first try as he wiped away those tears before wrapping those legs around your waist to give you the fucking of your life and the rest was history.

It was Suna who got you addicted to... him.

“You bet, how come she’s always hanging off your arm when you guys aren’t even together?” Astumu scoffed as shifts from his seat, watching from the opposite sofa with a frown over his defined features. It is unfair really, how you’ve chosen Suna over anyone else. Atsumu would love to slips his arms around you once in a while too, playing with those pretty lips of yours whilst you get drunk of him instead.

Despite no strings attached between you and Suna, shaking your head no as soon as he mumbles softly under his breath, beckoning you to go sit with Atsumu but no — you didn’t want to. “Nnu...Wanna stay...” Instead, your grip tightens on the fabric of his jacket, snuggling further into him until your head is buried at the crook of his neck.

If only you’re sober enough to see the faint but taunting smug smile Suna have stretched across his lips as he shrugged at his friend, guiding you to sit properly on his lap instead with your back facing Atsumu. “Better luck next time.”

God knows how long you’ve been sitting like this, legs folded on either side of Suna’s lap as you rest against his broad shoulder. Pins and needles crawl up your numb legs, shifting with an uncomfortable whine. To think Suna would waste a perfect opportunity like this, you’d be wrong, especially when all if most of his companions are high off their heads to even notice what the two of you’re about to do. “Baby, want my cock?” Suna isn’t subtle about it either, bulge poking at your clothed core. The mention of his cock was enough to have your clouded mind runs wild, grinding against his clothes erection with an eager nod. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve cockwarm Suna in front of other souls like this, Tsumu would shuffle towards the both of your and join in occasionally. Shotgunning you with his own blunt whilst lazily as he jerks off to your moans and tangle bodies. “What happened to the sweet innocent princess we knew?

As the time you spend with Suna and the Miya twins grew, so did your confidence. Becoming more familiar with the substance than you originally were, however. It was naive of you to think you could do this properly on your own without Suna here to keep you out of trouble because you’re a big girl who knows how to take care of herself. But instead, you have taken a pretty big hit, blame Atsumu. It was his idea to lower the amount of tobacco this time around, instead of feeling the familiar high you have with Suna; this is something way stronger.

How did you end up atop of Tsumu with his cock buried deep inside your dripping cunt, you have no idea. Only remembering fragments of things he had said to you prior to this, “Suna aren’t here is he? Shame. Let me be Suna tonight for ya, baby. Ride me inside, bet I could treat ya better than ‘im, c’mon baby, don’t be shy. It’s not like he’s ya boyfrien’ or anythin’.” That’s all you could remember before a snap of Atsumu’s hips snapped you out of your thought, drawing a meal from your lips. “C’mon, baby. Don’t hide that pretty voice from me now.”

Atsumu’s little plan would’ve been a success if it wasn’t for Osamu, consider it payback. Call him selfish if you want, but seeing his twin brother knocking the breath out of your lungs sparks his jealousy. Sure he could’ve joined in easily but what’s the fun in that?

Suna has been stood by the door for a while now, watching as you desperately bounces on Atsumu’s cock and moaning his name between each of those sloppy kisses. But still, that stoic face remained unbothered, maybe a twitch here and there but nothing major, the completely opposite of what Samu thought he would do. After all, despite Suna saying he doesn’t care nor does he wants you, everyone knows how much he cares for you enough to keep you around for as long as he has. Instead, Suna approached the two of you. Yanking your head up those sweaty locks of yours whilst you could barely register the shift in his eyes, “You knew this was gonna happen didn’t you? Just wanted an excuse to fuck Tsumu.”

He wasn’t wrong, both Miya twins shares the same face and it is hared to ignore their handsome features after all.

Osamu was dumbfounded when Suna positioned himself behind you instead, not only did he not have a good go at Tsumu but at the end decide to join too before prepping your rear end the best way he can before inching in, frowning as he does. “Fuck... just as I expected. You’re so fucking, right baby”

Neither one of them paid attention to Samu before Suna caught him palming at his jeans, only then did he come closer with his cock freed with one hand whilst the other holding a phone and hit record. You should see the way your lips parts whenever you’re close or the complete fucked our expression that suits you so well, no worries though; Samu will keep a good record seeing as how well you take all three of them together with Samu’s cock lodge deeply down your throat, stuffing you full with all ends.

At least this time you are not the only one who’s slurring nonsense as you came, Tsumu was the first one to pump you full of his cum first then it was Samu and lastly Suna. Showering you in praises and kisses before the younger Miya twin decides to take up the aftercare duty upon himself since Tsumu has already blacked out and Suna doesn’t look that far off either with the remaining blunt in his hand.

Samu is the gentlest of them all, washing you carefully as though you’re a glass doll. Having you put on one of his shirts and setting you on the kitchen counter whilst he cooks, earning small nods and hums from you whenever he asks you a question. Samu’s surprise you even managed to hold yourself this well before finally crashing against his shoulder, it was a struggle to get you to eat some food and drink some water but he did anyway.

Only for Suna to snatch you away again with a wave of his hand and a pat on his lap, you practically scrambled out from Samu’s arms and into Suna’s chest. Snuggling comfortably against him with a content smile on your face.

At the end of the day, you are Suna’s precious little princess. He’s the one who shown how to roll a joint, how to smoke from a bong and be a little rebellious. The Miyas twins could hook up with you as many times as they want, but he knows you’d be running back to him as soon as it is over.

Tag list: @m-mortimer @selfishwitch @sleepyrintaro @cxnicalsweetheart

#haikyuu smut #hq smut #osamu x reader #suna x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu smut #suna smut #atsumu smut #hq 🏐#tw’gangbang #tw’corruption #tw’dubcon #tw’drug #this been on my mind while fucking day #been screaming at izzie about it and I’m just #I WAMT STONER SUNA TO WRECK ME

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chloe-online · 3 years

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loved and i lost

hi, atm chris is my comfort character (its bc of re vendetta rbjhe) so i wanted to write a lil something :) honestly with everything going on rn im not putting too much effort into it (hence the title) and i do apologize for that. also want to mention i probably didn't paragraph right but ignore it. i hope you enjoy anyway!

pairing: Chris redfield x fem!reader

its been four months. four months since you got that call from the BSAA breaking the news to you. ever since your life hasnt been the same. Chris Redfield, the love of your life, died on his mission and his body wasnt recovered. you couldnt even have closure, all you were told is that he was gone.

you let out a sigh at the memory. you were trying your best to take care of yourself but it was just really hard. having chris in your life meant that you had someone to look up to, someone to work for, but now that someone is gone.

you sighed, pouring the milk into your cheerios. if chris was here you would've cooked a proper meal, but cereal was easiest and it filled you up just enough that it would last you till tomorrow.

you sat out on the porch slowly lifting the spoon up to your mouth over and over. you looked up to the sky, there wasn't a star in sight. the stars were shimmering, and it made you take your meal and go back inside. you couldn't handle the memory of eating under the stars with chris.

you flushed your cereal down the toilet and went to place your bowl in the sink, which was overflowing with dirty dishes. you meant to do them but everytime you tried you physically couldn't. while you piling your empty bowl in the sink you decided that a shower was well needed.

you made your way to the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. your hair was a mess, you've been wearing the same clothes for 3 days, and your face was smeared with makeup you tried doing earlier. you wanted to try and make yourself presentable because leon said he was coming over but you realized you couldn't let anyone see the state you were living in, so you canceled your plans with him and apologized.

you turned the water on, stripped yourself, and stepped into the warm shower. you just stood there for a few moments, soaking in the warmth. you were in and out in the span of 5ish minutes, you just wanted to clean yourself up a little bit and the warm water did that just fine.

you slipped into some black shorts and one of chris' shirts. it still smelled like him and it soothed you but at the same time it brought tears to your eyes. you missed him so much, it hurt. you curled up into bed and cuddled your blanket as if it was him. you couldn't stop the tears, they just kept coming.

you stayed like this for a long while. since you didn't finish what was supposed to be your dinner you thought it might be a good idea to get a small snack before you go to bed. as your feet touched the carpet you heard glass shatter from across the house.

there was no way it was leon or claire, they had a key so they would've came in through the front door. someone broke in. you scurried into the bathroom and locked the door. you put the passcode in on your phone and called chris' number, you knew he wouldn't pick up but you liked to leave voicemails, it made you feel safe. you tried your best to be quiet but you were crying and your voice was shakey.

"hi chris, i know you'll never get this but just pretending to talk to you is enough for me. someones in the house, I'm scared but i think I'm safe. i love you, i miss you so much baby," you managed to muster. you hung up and put your phone away.

it was silent for a while so you figured you'd just go check it out and if you felt uneasy, or if you knew someone was there still you'd call 911. the door opened with a creak and you tiptoed out to the kitchen.

you thought the coast was clear so you leaned your back onto the kitchen island, debating if you should continue to look around or if you should just lock yourself in the bathroom and deal with it in the morning. but when you put your back to the island it was already too late.

someone crept up from the other side and in seconds you were unconscious.

_________________________________________________

".... i love you, i miss you so much baby." *voicemail ends*

chris let out an angry sigh, this mission was too much. he knew he had to go make sure y/n was okay. her voice was shaky, and she sounded very scared.

four months ago he was assigned to a mission where he had to fake his death. ever since he'd get voicemails and text messages from you. it broke his heart to see how sad you were. this job was very important but he thought that you deserved to know that he was okay, it should've been like that from the beginning.

"hq I'm going home, i will be back."

"Alpha you cannot just abandon your post, this mission is important."

"i don't fucking care! i have to go make sure y/n is okay. someone broke in. canine and umber eyes are taking over till I'm back." Chris just hoped he wasnt too late

_________________________________________________

you were drugged, blindfolded, and tied up to one of the dining chairs. you could only hear them taking valuables, digging through drawers, cabinets, and any other storage unit you had. they paused and you could hear them pick up a picture frame and chuckle under their breath.

"well well, you're chris redfields girl? you're a fucking mess! there's no fucking way he put up with you. maybe that's why he died," those words hit pretty hard. tears threatened to start falling again. your lack of response clearly pissed him off.

"its your fault he's gone y'know, let that sink in. if you were good enough he'd still be here!" at this point he was grabbing your face, taunting you. he was obviously just trying to hurt your feelings, and it worked. satisfied with what he did, he threw your head back and let go.

"pathetic," at that moment there was a knock at the door. the robber voiced a very confused 'what the fuck?' you heard the door creak open followed by a loud thud. it sounded like someone hit the floor. grunts and sounds of fighting filled the room.

'is leon here to help me?' the sounds of fighting came to a stop and footsteps were heading your way. you felt a oddly familiar hand touch your shoulder.

"please don't hurt me, i don't want to leave my friends, we need each other."

"hey, hey baby its me," your blindfold was torn off and your eyes were met with chris' soft brown ones. once you were free of the chair you clung to Chris and buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"i thought you were gone, i missed you so much," you guys just held each other for a while. you pushed away and pulled chris into a kiss, which he gladly returned the favor.

"I'll explain what happened, i promise. just please come with me," you instantly agreed. chris was here and you couldn't be happier.

sorry for any typos, i hope you enjoyed!

#chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #chrisredfield #bsaa #re8 #resident evil vendetta #this isnt that good but i hope u enjoyed it anyway #im actuallyy proud of dis one #hehe #luv u

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enhaheeseung · 2 years

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So as I said I would like to make a post as to why I’m thinking about deleting this account before like I said I was dead set on it but now I’m not sure but here are a few reasons for why I’m contemplating it

Number one Im really wishy washy one moment I’ll be so confident in a plot or a story but as I post it I feel like it’s not good enough or I could have done better than I start getting these irrational thoughts like it’s bad or embarrassing and finally I get to the point where I stop writing (hints my 40 drafts)

Another reason is feeling like I have to rush something out even though no one demands me to write and post for some reason I feel obligated or I’m gonna lose readers if I don’t like I said I know I’m the only one that feels that way buts it’s a big hindering point for me

Something else is when I don’t get many comments or asks I feel unimportant like I put a lot of time work and effort for little feedback which is once again all in my head cause you all are literally the best and even if I had just one follower that enjoyed my writing I’d continue for them cause the joy I feel when someone tells me that my writing makes their day is immeasurable

Also I really don’t have any friends on here like there’s no one that I talk to or have connected with and that plays into another on of my problems is that it may seem stupid but I miss my older readers not saying I don’t like my new followers just as much but it’s different when you kinda get to know someone and then they’re are just gone which also makes me feel like a hypocrite cause I’m literally thinking about leaving

Anyways it all sounds really ridiculous if you think about it I mean I just made this account to write but I didn’t know what others things I’d encounter here but the best way I can describe it is I feel lonely and I think that was one of the main reasons for my lack of motivation but I can’t blame anyone cause you all have lives going on and they don’t stop just cause someone posts a fic on tumblr

So those are the more app base problems that I have but as for life in general it’s been really tough all around when I made this account I was only part time but as months went by people from my job quit so I was able to pick up more hours and more hours means more money now typically forty hour jobs are the norm but for me it’s been really tough cause I got hired in October (the day before heeseung’s birthday lol hehe anyways) and my immune system is very weak so I was shifting between first and third shift till October so you could imagine what that was like and it’s still not that much better because of this I don’t eat on proper schedule cause I get home and im so tired I just fall asleep and miss dinner leaving only one meal a day which is lunch with all that being said I’ve lost a significant amount of weight and energy overall so I think that also has a lot to do with my mental status I’ve really just been completely out of it today I was just on auto pilot and it felt terrible cause I had no control over how I feel

I have a lot of emotional stress and family issues that are really bad but I will not talk about that here I typically take out my stress by working and doing things which is the worst way to cope cause my body can not take all the stress I endure nor my mind I’ll usually workout or work extra hard and push myself beyond the limit cause somehow that makes me feel hopeful and motivated to not give up it’s weird but it works

It’s also weird to talk about this here but I feel everyone deserves an explanation for why I feel like leaving

A big problem of mine I’m a huge people pleaser like to an extent that’s almost troubling so I always try my best to accommodate everyone and guess who that leaves on the back burner

And that’s a big problem cause I should always put myself first but I didn’t as I stated before I wrote two of my favorite stories “popcorn” and “angel” angel took ten hours while popcorn took about seven “train ride home” also falls into the category of works I made in just one day I was so excited to post them for everyone hoping it would get a good response and to please my readers at the expanse of me using my whole day off just to write one fic

Overworking has been my downfall since I can remember like I mentioned some time ago I work till the point of satisfaction I push myself to the limit to test myself even if I know I can do it I still have to put my body under some type of physical pain until I’m satisfied an example of this would be a few years ago I used to do sprinting I still do just not as often but I was so driven to beat my previous record that I was out till midnight I ran the same course too many times to count so many times I gave myself a cramp and still kept going I didn’t stop until I beat my record with a cramp and all

This leads me to my stubbornness I just can’t stop even with writers block I continually try to write stories that’s why I didn’t feel like taking a break was an option cause if I know myself I’d just go back and back time and time again in the past I mentioned taking breaks but I never really did I just didn’t post for awhile behind the scenes I was still in fact writing

After awhile I think the positive feedback really kept me wanting to post something about the notifications was almost like an addiction so I kept posting and posting till I eventually went through everything all my plots and idea’s poof gone but I still wanted to please everyone so I continued to post even when I felt it was sub par

I only have a few works I’m proud of but I still beat myself up cause they could have been better overall it’s just I don’t know how to explain it or what’s going on it even feels strange to me one minute I’m up next minute I’m down I think there’s a lot of things to attribute this to such as my lifestyle and just getting older but who really knows

Ultimately the biggest reason is I just feel like I’m not good enough I think that’s what it really boils down to unfortunately I know I’m way too hard on myself and it’s really not this deep but I can’t help it I wanted to share this with everyone to let you know that I really tried my best

And when my best isn’t good enough I can’t help but feel disappointed with myself I’m a perfectionist as well so that doesn’t help my situation in conclusion I’m having a mental battle with myself I think if I can get in tune with my body and mind I could come back stronger and better but as of right now that’s going to take all my effort I am currently working on all these problems I mentioned

Even though it was very tough for me to share my mind with the world it has also been healing and a great experience at times I’m glad there’s a platform for like minded people to meet without any judgement and hostility I’m greatful to everyone who has followed my tumblr journey all I can say is I love you all🤎

Sincerely your hee simp president

#feels a little better to say a few of these things #but as I mentioned saying how I feel is so fucking hard bro #i keep my emotions to myself for so long I don’t know how to let them out and that fucking sucks big man ass tbh🤣#if you made it to the end thank you for your time #once again I love you all so much🤎#the time I spent with everyone here was the absolute best just a reminder that you are all amazing all twelve hundred and fifty of you 🤎

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vickyskpopkingdom · 3 years

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Baekhyun :: working blues

request: Hii! Im rlly into baekhyun's new album rn and i was hoping u could write a fluff where ur just having a rough day and he sings u to sleep pls!! Rlly like ur fluff writes btw 💕💕

thank you so much for your kind words! i haven't written about exo in a long, long time but i hope that you still like what i came up with!

warnings: overworking, stress

1.8k words, gn reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes you felt like the world was collapsing on you. The weight on your shoulders got too heavy at times and you were just tired. So tired, so tired. Today was one of those days.

The work you had to do didn't seem to end. At this point you couldn't even count how many e-mails you had answered, how many texts you have read, how many calls you made and how many words you have written. Your eyes were so tired they started to water at the sight of the bright screen of your laptop in front of you. When had it become so dark around you? Hasn't it been noon just a few minutes ago?

A quick glance through your bedroom window and towards the clock on your wall told you something different. It was already eight p.m., the streetlamp outside your window was the only source of light right now other than your laptop. With a sigh you leaned back into your chair and tried stretching your arms as well as your neck and legs. Every joint in your body seemed to make a protesting cracking noise and as you tried to massage your neck, your muscles burned with protest.

You sighed again. Maybe you really should invest in one of those fancy office chairs that claimed to be a blessing for your whole body. At the thought of the price however you shook that thought out of your head.

Standing up you got through another round of stretching your whole body and decided to check out the kitchen for food. It only hit you as the dim light of the fridge illuminated your face that you were supposed to go grocery shopping today. Empty shelves greeted you back and your stomach grumbled angrily.

You tried hard not to scream out of frustation. Nothing wanted to work your way these days and you were honestly so tired of it. For some time you were able to tell yourself that everything would work out and that you would find your working blues again but that was yet to happen. Quietly you closed the fridge door again, sliding down against it to the floor.

The project you had been assigned at the start of last week was way more complicated than you had anticipated, the sources you were thinking of using turned out to be a scam. Adding to that the promotion you had been so sure of getting had been given to someone else and while you could understand that they deserved it, you were sure that you would have deserved it as well. Not only was your fridge emtpty but you had been neglecting your healthy eating habits for quite some time now, which only frustated you more.

And today all of these things seemed to add up all at once, crushing you under their weight.

When was the last time you really had a good nights sleep? You had worked late and gotten up early, eating only bits and pieces of instant food, sitting at your desk all day and falling into bed only to repeat the same cycle over and over again. Right now you were fighting to keep the tears at bay but the merry-go-round in your head kept spinning, piling up more and more worries.

When was the last time you had seen your friends? When was the last time you even properly talked to them? You were always telling them that you were busy with work when they asked to hang out. They never pressured you to still come with them but you knew that they would love to see you again even for a few hours. Yet you still could not get yourself to take their invitations, the thought of your unfinished project sitting in the back of your head constantly.

When was the last time your boyfriend--?

Just as the tears started flowing down your face the doorbell rang. Its sound surprised you so much that you jumped up, your heart beating fast. The clock in your kitchen read nine p.m. One hour went by while you were staring holes in the walls and drowned in your thoughts.

You couldn't really think of a reason why someone would visit you this late, on a weekday nonetheless. But not answering the door wasn't an option either, you would just start to worry about 'what-ifs'. So you decided to take a peak through the peephole in your door.

Your heart picked up its pace at you saw a familiar face illuminated by the light of a smartphone-screen, lookin worried and confused. Fumbling with your keys you opened the door and the person looked up from their phone.

"Hey Bambi, are you okay?"

Baekhyuns voice filled your ears as soon as he looked into your face. He eyed you up and down, making sure you were alright. "I texted and tried to call you for at least two hours now. There was no reaction from you whatsoever."

As you allowed him to step into your home, you sighed. "Sorry, I threw my phone across the room at one point and didn't pick it up again."

Your boyfriend chuckled as he got rid of his shoes and coat, placing both neatly onto their usual spots in the entrance of your flat. Just the sight of him, doing everyday things, smiling, talking was an instant boost for your mood. Now that he was here you fully realized just how much you had missed his presence.

"Why would you throw your phone?", Baekhyun questioned.

You made a dismissive move with your hand, not wanting to talk about the infuriating call you had to make a few hours ago. "I was frustrated", you only said.

Together you and Baekhyun made your way towards your bedroom. Just as you stepped into the room and turned on the lights you remembered the state you left your working place in. But it was too late to make him turn around now. Quickly you tried to tidy up the place a little bit, hiding the traces of your overworking as Baekhyun cleared his throat to gain your attention.

"Are you drowning yourself in work again?"

You stopped dead in your tracks. This wasn't the first time he had seen you piling up work on your shoulders and ending up being unable to do anything else. Back then you had promised him to take better care of yourself or at least take real breaks once in a while to catch a breath.

"Maybe...."

Now it was Baekhyuns turn to sigh. "Did you eat today? And before you answer i mean 'eat a proper meal'."

Picking up your phone from the floor you sat yourself down on the bed. "No, not really. It's just this project..."

Baekhyun shook his head at you, but you still noticed the small smile on his face. "You are such a hard-working person. But you need to allow yourself some time to breathe, you know?"

His voice was calm, sounding like music to your ears. Even after all this time you had been in a relationship with him you were still surprised by how easily he could make you relax.

"Yes, I know."

"And since I am such a caring and awesome boyfriend", he said, rustling with a plastic bag you only now noticed in his hands, "I brought you some food."

As you looked into his smiling face you couldn't help but ask yourself how you got so lucky.

The meal was good, it was your favorite and having Baekhyun by your side made you feel even more grounded. It almost felt like you gained new energy after a week of complete exhaustion and constant worrying. While you were eating the both of you talked about everything and nothing, catching up, telling stories and sharing your newest netflix suggestions.

The evening proceeded and your eyes landed on the clock again. It was late, if you were still caught up in your workaholic-lifestyle you would have already been asleep right now. However surprisingly you currently were not even close to worrying about getting up the next morning. What bothered you most right now was that this evening would end and eventually you would have to go to sleep an wake up in the morning, getting back to your work.

Baekhyun seemed to notice the frown on your face sooner than you could hide it again. "What's wrong?"

You shrugged. "This is nice, simply being together with you. But you probably have to leave soon and then tomorrow I have to work on this stupid project again."

"I can stay the night, if you want me to of course."

"I didn't want to pressure you into--"

"You didn't", he interrupted you, before you could end the sentence and feel like you made him stay against his will, "I actually wanted to ask if I could stay anyways. Tomorrow is one of my free days. I could even keep you company while you work."

Your chest felt warm at his words. "I would love that."

Soon you two found yourselves back in your bed, bodies entangled with each other, quiet breaths sounding through the room. You could feel your eyelids growing heavy, but as soon as you closed your eyes all you could think of was the next morning, the project, the unanswered emails, the calls.

"Still can't calm down, Bambi?", Baekhyun whispered in your ear, while slowly stroking your hair.

With closed eyes you shook your head. "I can't take my mind off of work."

The next thing you heard was quiet humming coming from Baekhyun. You could feel the vibration of his vocal chords against your own body. His voice really was a blessing for everyones ears, he could carry emotions through singing that you weren't even able to put into words. His songs made you happy, they made you cry occasionally, they made you feel calm or made you miss something you didn't even knew existed. It was a gift.

His humming transformed into words, calmly sang into the otherwise dark and quiet room.

It's a night filled with a single stream of light

You're my timely rain, Bambi

I don't want to waste even a second of this night just

being the two of us

As you listened to his singing, you could finally feel your muscles relaxing, your brain calming down and your whole body drifting towards sleep. There were no worrysome thoughts turning your mind upside down anymore, there was only Baekhyun and his voice filling your head with images of your favorite places, your favorite memories and him. The warmth of his body under the blankets made you feel safe, at home. This was were you belonged.

And while Baekhyun continued with the song you fell into a deep sleep, one that you deserved after all the work you had done. You already knew that you found your blues again. Everything would work out again, just like you had always thought yourself. And all you had needed was just a small push in the right direction from the right person.

I don't want to wake up from this dream, keep this tempo

I hope the sun doesn't rise while I keep my eyes closed

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I really hope you enjoyed this one! It was nice to write something again but I do feel like i am a little bit out of training i guess haha

and also if you feel like the reader in this scenario, please remember that there will be better days & that life is more than working day to day! take a break, make some tea, get some fresh air and get back to your work with a fresh mind; you can do it!!

#baekhyun #byun baekhyun #bbh #baekyhun imagine #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun fluff #x reader #baekhyun x reader #gn reader #exo #baekhyun bambi #exo scenario #exo imagine #exo x reader #baekhyun fic

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too-kinky-to-live · 3 years

Text

taste

happy vo.re day everyone!!! here’s my cringe fic to commemorate :-)

(no ao3 link this time im too self conscious)

this idea came about while talking to the lovely @chili-kinks and they made this in conjunction with my fic so please check them out!!

anyway this fic features pre.game oum.asai and soft, same size vo.re, you have been warned. also bad words

“IIIIT’S PUNISHMENT TIME!!!”

The screen cut to a large Monokuma towering over the latest blackened, a small blonde girl with a long pigtail. The demonic bear picked up the girl and began to lick all over as she struggled in his grasp. Slowly lifting her above his head, Monokuma bent his head back and opened the gates of hell: his half-fanged mouth, with drool beginning to form around it. The girl was screaming and flailing about as she was lowered further down to her demise. Monokuma’s fist released her without effort, the blackened dropping right into his gaping maw. It slammed shut with a metal clang, and the bear gave a loud, deafening gulp.

Saihara’s eyes were glued to the T.V., in a more intense manner than usual. What a cruel way to go, even for Danganronpa standards. He had many ideas about his own execution someday, but this… this was definitely one to consider. He could only imagine how she felt wriggling around in his large belly, put to an eternal sleep with a comforting blanket of warmth. His shaky hands moved to text his boyfriend Ouma, who sadly couldn’t make it to their weekly Danganronpa viewing because of heaps of school projects. He knew Ouma was more into the mystery aspect of the show than the gruesome killings, but he simply couldn’t resist.

Saihara: omgomgomg did you see the latest episode???

Ouma: I did. I had it on in the background so I could work.

Saihara: what did you think of the execution? :D

Ouma: It was… something. Unexpected, definitely.

It was difficult for the taller boy to contain his fantasizing, to say the least.

Saihara: i love the way she was screaming for dear life,,, it was soooo satisfying in the end! god i wish i were monokuma… tasting a victim would be so worth ittt

Ouma: Uh, Saihara?

Saihara: yea?

Ouma: I think you should go to bed. You have school tomorrow. And… you’re scaring me a little.

Saihara: sorry kichi… but fiiiine ill see you tomorrow.

The last thing he wanted was to make Ouma uncomfortable. And he was a man of his word, he’d take his advice and get to bed. However, there was one thing he wanted to try first. Rummaging around in his snack drawer, he found a small bag of Monokuma-themed gummy bears. He couldn’t stop thinking about having something whole run down his throat… and what better way to do it than try on a small candy? He frantically opened the bag and plucked out a red gummy. Dangling it above his drooling maw, he licked his lips.

“My first victim… down the hatch!”

He shoved the gummy in his mouth and had to stop himself from chewing. Positioning it for swallowing, he let it slide down his throat with a hard gulp. Saihara traced a hand over his chest to feel it going down to his stomach, shivering slightly. What an amazing feeling… he couldn’t chew these ever again! He happily shoved more in his mouth and gulped them down, pretending they were meek little prey against his predatory might.

Saihara tossed the bag aside and rubbed his belly blissfully. One day, maybe he could have a person inside him. Despite his affinity for Danganronpa, he could never bring himself to kill someone. He was going to rely on Team Danganronpa’s directors to change that for him. No, he merely wanted someone in his belly for a while, just to feel what it’s like.

Surely a normal human like him couldn’t achieve that, right?

Only one way to find out.

Ouma looked on nervously as Saihara effortlessly swallowed half a sandwich whole. His previous victims included sushi, apple slices, candy, cookies, and brownies. It was almost inhuman how the taller boy could open his mouth to fit a seemingly endless array of food.

"Saihara, you're gonna make yourself sick."

Saihara simply chuckled. "I'll be fine, 'Kichi."

The smaller boy knew Saihara had a somewhat unhealthy obsession with Danganronpa, but he never would have imagined it would affect him this much. Despite how unnatural it was, Ouma couldn't help his morbid curiosity. He couldn't deny how interesting the latest execution was (no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise), and a small part of him absolutely loved watching Saihara scarf down food and seeing it travel down his throat.

Nope, he definitely didn't enjoy this.

Every so often, the taller boy would lift his food above him and slowly ease it into his mouth, as if to simulate eating a person. Ouma was immensely thankful the other patrons of the cafe were ignoring them. Maybe this sudden fascination would fade once the next Danganronpa episode came out; but with Saihara, anything was possible.

Saihara: hey could you come over today? i wanna try something.

Two weeks later, Ouma received a rather unceremonious text from Saihara one night.

Ouma: Sure. What is it you want to try?

Saihara: i don't think i can say over text

Ouma furrowed his brow, his mind racing to the absolute worst possible scenarios. Did something happen between him and his uncle again?

Ouma: ...why not?

Saihara: i just can't i'm sorry

Saihara: pls come over asap

Ouma: Alright.

It was unsettling how vague his friend was being, and that made him all the more worried. He hurriedly packed his things and ran to Saihara's house.

The two sat across from each other on the floor in Saihara’s room, neither saying a word. The taller boy had his eyes cast down, deep in thought with Ouma left to wonder just what the hell happened to him. The air was unnerving, and Ouma couldn’t take it anymore.

“Are you okay, Saihara?”

The boy in question took a second to look up at him, meeting his eyes with an emotionless face Ouma had not seen in him before.

“Do you remember the episode where the girl got eaten alive?”

Oh.

“I… I want to try it out. I’ve been practicing so I could make it happen.”

Oh.

Saihara couldn’t possibly think this would work, right? Humans aren’t capable of eating each other without… killing the other. Ouma shuddered.

“Saihara,” he spoke slowly. “Do you really think you can do this? I mean, Danganronpa is just fiction after all… and one of us wouldn’t s-survive,” his voice began to quiver.

The taller boy sat up slightly and looked at Ouma with soft eyes. “I won’t let that happen. I’ve been looking stuff up. I’ve been training myself. And… you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Part of Ouma didn’t want to. That part was constantly pushing the fact that this could end up very bad. However, another part slowly began to rise up - the feeling of being the closest he can to the one he has a crush on. And of course, there was that naughty side of him thrilled at the idea.

“...I’ll do it.”

Saihara’s eyes lit up. “Really?!”

“I trust you. And, well, I’m kinda curious too.”

Hearing Ouma have mutual feelings to this weird activity made Saihara’s heart race. The smaller boy began to remove his clothing, too embarrassed to make eye contact with his crush. Saihara finally noticed how bony Ouma was. He’d make sure to get him a proper meal later. Ouma removed everything but his boxers, feeling somewhat self-conscious and looking away with a blush.

“Could you uh, close your eyes while I do this? I don’t think I could make eye contact with you.”

“S-Sure.”

Ouma complied and Saihara inched his way towards him, shaking slightly. Ouma trusted him. He wasn’t about to let that be for nothing. Raising himself above Ouma’s head, Saihara opened his maw until it became unhinged. He gently bit down on the smaller boy’s head of hair. The flavor was a sweet grape with a bit of lavender, which made Saihara drool slightly. He couldn’t help but smile in bliss as he took more of the boy in. He felt Ouma flinch a bit, so he brought his hands to Ouma’s arms and rubbed for reassurance. The smaller boy calmed down and Saihara reached his shoulders.

Perhaps it was Ouma’s smaller stature, but this was going a lot easier than Saihara had anticipated. He wanted to lick at him to get more of his sweet flavor, but he didn’t want to gross him out. He also wished he could ask how Ouma was holding up, but, well… he was a bit preoccupied. As Saihara reached the smaller boy’s torso, he realized the boy had entered his stomach. He was already feeling full, but there was no going back now. He took a hand off of Ouma to rub his belly, his hand gliding over the dent created in it. Reaching Ouma’s boxers wasn’t nearly as thrilling of a milestone, since his taste was interrupted by bland fabric.

He picked up the pace and shoved the covered part of Ouma’s body down his gullet. He mentally apologized for being so rough. Resuming the wonderful taste of Ouma, he slid down his spindly legs. All that remained was below the knees, and those were consumed just as quickly. Saihara could feel Ouma squirming a bit to get comfortable, and that’s when the true euphoria started.

It felt fucking amazing.

It was everything he hoped it would be. He leaned back and let an arm support him from behind, using the other to support the massive weight added to him. His stomach stretched past his knees with many bumps protruding from it. Red-faced, Saihara panted heavily with his tongue lavishly hanging out. God, this was so worth it. He rubbed around to feel for Ouma, who was surprisingly calm during the whole ordeal.

He opened his mouth to ask Ouma how he was doing, but a massive belch burst from his lips instead. The smaller boy, meanwhile, was fumbling around trying to make out his surroundings in the dark. His body was drenched in saliva; but strangely, no stomach acid was present. The world quaked around him as Saihara let out a loud burp, and Ouma found it hard to be grossed out given his current circumstances.

“Are you *urp* okay, ‘Kichi?”

Saihara’s hand found Ouma’s head between the fleshy wall separating them, and Ouma couldn’t help but lean into the touch. He never saw himself in the stomach of his crush, yet here he was.

“I’m okay. It feels… really nice,” he blushed, accentuated with a small rub to the stomach walls. He was amazed at how elastic Saihara’s stomach was, he hoped he wasn’t putting too much strain on it.

“Haah… I’m great, ‘Kichi! The best I’ve ever felt, actually! You tasted incredible,” he grinned, licking his lips.

Suddenly, the buttons on his dress shirt holding on for dear life relented and popped right off, exposing his large belly. That was… pretty hot, Saihara realized. Ouma started to rub more of the walls surrounding him, causing Saihara to moan rather loudly. He was a complete mess around his crush, but it was just too difficult to contain his bliss.

“Saihara, why aren’t there any stomach acids yet?”

The taller boy gave his belly a gentle pat. “I found recipes online for drinks that *hic* could subdue stomach acids for a bit. It looks *hic* like they worked pretty *hic* well, huh?”

Ouma smiled and let himself lean back into the warm stomach walls.

“You’ll let me out when I’m ready, right?” he asked tiredly.

“Of course,” Saihara whispered, rubbing Ouma’s head.

“Thank you, Saihara.”

#hope yall enjoy #pora's fix

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ssamie · 3 years

Text

eleven. “get your girl!”

kozume kenma x fem dazai!reader

(bsd x hq)

tw: mentions of suicide

masterlist. suicide freak!

"was our sleepover fun, kenma-kun?" she chirped

"no. your place had suicidal traps and schemes littered all around" kenma sighed

she laughed at him as he continued to put on his shoes. kenma was forced to stay with her last night as per her request. and, of course, true to her word, they had loads of fun.

"it wasn't that bad" she pouted playfully

"there was a toaster in your bathtub, so i couldn't take a proper bath. and the only 'food' you have is a bottle of muriatic acid and candy" kenma deadpanned

"hey, i offered to feed you a full course meal!" she defended

"y-your body does not count!" kenma argued back. a faint pink hue was sploched on his cheeks as he refused to look at her.

"well whatever, let's go meet the others before we head out" she said. as the pair made their way to the agency's office, atsushi was already there along with kunikida. kenji was sleeping while ranpo was just munching on his snacks, like usual.

"good morning!" she chirped out in a la-di-da tone

"good morning, y/n-san" atsushi greeted back with a warm smile

"goomorwing" ranpo mumbled back, though it was muffled by the snacks in his mouth

"hehe, kunikida-kun~" she cooed out "were gonna head out now, kunikida-kun! we're borrowing your wallet for some pancakes on the way~"

kunikida clicked his tounge and stood up from his chair. he stomped over to her and snatched the wallet that somehow made its way into her hands. "no way in hell, you bandage-squandering-machine!" kunikida exclaimed

kenma simply stretched his arm out for her to fall onto as she dramatically screamed and stumbled back "agh!" she exclaimed as she recoiled into an unamused kenma's chest

"n-nice nickname there, kunikida-kun" she let out a strained laugh "that stung... just a little"

"tch, if you got so much time wandering around then you might as well write a report about your capture by the port mafia" kunikida said

she chuckled lowly and spun around, only to be found sporting a serious and aloof expression "atsushi-kun." she called out

"yes?" atsushi perked up, his dual-toned eyes sparkling with determination

"write the report for me." she commanded in a serious tone

"hah?" atsushi huffed out

"well then, kenma-kun and i will be going! bye-bye~" she cooed as she waved them goodbye. kenma waved at them as they stepped out of the agency's office.

"oi! you better be back here after school, brat!" kunikida shouted. though his words were faint since they were already running off.

"well then, ready for school kenma?" she cooed

"no, i just wanna relax" kenma grumbled

"wasn't last night enough relaxation, pudding?" she mused with a sly smirk

"no, it wasn't" kenma shuddered "i told you i wasn't down to have ˢᵉˣ and yet-"

"oh, look at that! isn't that chuuya~" she cut him off with a playful grin "it seems he's not alone, akutagawa-kun is looking real tall compared to him" she hummed

by now kenma was just confused, frustrated and lowkey scared. "literally what?" he muttered "akutagawa..?" kenma muttered. "wait- isn't that the port mafia guy in the news?!" he whisper shouted

"he's still coughing up his lung like its no one's business" she chuckled as she waved her hand around "that boy really needs to invest in an inhaler or something.. or maybe some water will do.." she muttered to herself

kenma chose to ignore her as he simply tugged her arm and ran away towards the station. they scurried away all while trying not to be seen by the two men. "are you crazy?! weren't those the guys that took you?" kenma whisper shouted

"i remember you mentioning an akutagawa last night" he sighed "and not to mention that chuuya guy was there too."

"they're harmless" she reassured with a smile

"they're in the port mafia." kenma deadpanned "actually, can we please discuss the fact that you're affiliated with the mafia-"

"no." she said with a smile

"anyways, we should go.. nekomata-san said something about cleaning out the gym lockers"

kenma gaped at her as she started walking further, leaving him behind. all while sporting that goofy grin, acting as if she didn't just come across two mafiosos.

"fine, whatever.."

"what happened to you yesterday , y/n-senpai?" lev asked with a small smile

"oh nothing, lev" she chuckled dismissively "i just had a psychic tell me that if i jumped into the river near the village, my death would be guaranteed." she hummed out with a nod “so i decided to try it out" she grinned

"woah!! so did it work?" lev asked back

"lev you fucking idiot" yaku sighed

kuroo watched them and laughed along, leaving lev to fend for himself as yaku kicked his back. kuroo nudged kenma with his elbow, smirking suggestively as he wiggles his brows

"what kuroo." kenma sighed "soo.. how'd it go with your lady? hm?" kuroo grinned teasingly

kenma flushed a bright pink and buried his face into the collars of his jacket, so only his eyes could be seen. "i-it was.. yeah-" he stammered

"oya oya~ what's this supposed to mean?" kuroo sneered

"it means kenma here is a real treat in be-" she was cut off as kenma slapped her with the mop "no!" kenma shrieked flusteredly "were going away now!" was the only thing he said before dragging the girl into the lockerooms

"WHAT THE HELLSNKAKAJA" the team laughed and hollered as kuroo burst out into his hyena cackle

"wow kenma! you could've killed me with that mop" she laughed "do it again!"

"KYANMA IS ALL GROWN UP NOW!" kuroo laugh-cried "KYANMAAA HOW COULD YOU?! I WAS GONNA MARRY Y/N-CHAANN" yamamoto cried out

"stop teasing him guys, he'll get mad" kai sweatdropped as he tried to ease the team down

"yeah...so how's it feel to be one-upped by your best friend, mr.chemistry nerd?" yaku sneered as he held in his laughs

kuroo immediately stopped laughing as he sent yaku an unamused glare "HAH?! SHUT UP YOU GENETIC ANOMALY!" kuroo yelled at him

completely ignoring their loud voices, kenma and y/n arrived in the lockeroom and proceeded with the cleaning "i can't believe that just happened" kenma shook his head disappointingly

she chuckled and patted his back as they started cleaning out the lockers. "aww, don't be so down kenma-kun" she cooed

"i'll help you clean the lockers if that makes you feel better" she said as she hugged him from behind

"stop hugging me" kenma hissed at her "and that doesn't make me feel better because it's your job in the first place"

"anyways, look at lev's locker!" she said with an innocent whistle as she opened the locker.

"oya oya" she mumbled "lev is truly adorable.. but kind of.. strange, per say"

"what is it?" kenma asked. she snickered and pulled out an ungodly amount of cat food packed in tupperwares.

"what the hell." kenma sweat dropped "does he eat that or something?" kenma muttered while scrunching up his face

"i'd hope not, but let's leave this here" she chuckled "any ways.. how about checking out my locker?" she suggested with a smile as she skipped over to the locker in the furthest row

"aren't you curious to see what's in my locker, kenma-kun?" she cooed tauntingly

kenma sighed but followed her anyways "sure. part of me is, part of me isn't" he said

"here we go.." she paused dramatically as she pulled on the handle "tada!" she exclaimed as she slammed it open, presenting him a noose tied to a piece of wood which was stuck at the top.

"what the hell?!" kenma shrieked

"its a y/n-style suicide corner locker!" she announced excitedly

"i thought so, but that's creepy!" kenma exclaimed "not even the lockers are suicide-free"

"why?" kenma grumbled

"well you see, it's actually very convenient" she said "tip it over once you're done, and it instantly turns into a coffin!" she giggled menicingly

kenma sighed as he eyed her locker and her awfully enthusiastic grin. "please don't try to sell it to me like some time-saving product" he said

she then huffed out a breath of air and slyly smirked as she pushed the locker close "geez, im getting bored.. aren't you, kenma?" she said with an exaggerated sigh

"you show off your locker and now you're content?!" kenma scoffed in disbelief

she grinned mischievously and skipped away "why don't we ditch this place and go have some ramen?" she proposed

"we just got here like two hours ago" kenma said "and im pretty sure nekomata-san won't let us go just like that"

"aw, cmon! come with me, kenma-kun~ i wanna eat with you~" she whined out

"fine, fine" kenma groaned "just cover for me if i end up getting scolded"

"of course!" she beamed at him. she then threw away the unused cleaning supplies, confidently striding out the door, leaving the locker room as dirty as it was before

"oya oya~ did you have fun in there?" kuroo asked teasingly

"yup!" she replied "in fact, we had so much fun that we decided to expand our dopamine-inducing activities all the way into the ramen shop downtown!"

the team sweat dropped as she started shamelessly marching off to the gym's exit, dragging along kenma, who now had his nose buried in his game

"wait, y/n-san" nekomata stopped her. she froze mid step and slowly turned back around, sending the coach a nervous smile "yes?" she asked

"before you go, we need to discuss a few things for future tournaments" nekomata said "were gonna need some new tactics, so maybe you can suggest something?" he said

"hmm, i'll do some research later on" she hummed out

"but we're gonna be playing against fukurodani and nohebi then right?" shibayama chimed in "oooh~ i've never heard of this 'nohebi' you speak of" she cooed out in amusement

"i would've guessed" kuroo said "daisho's face would be enough to kill you, it's crazy!" he chuckled

y/n's eyes glimmered as she shook kenma's shoulders excitedly "seriously?!"

"no, and that was supposed to be a bad thing" kuroo chuckled, a fond smile resting on his lips as he watched her deflate at his words

"oh, i've got it!" she piped up "i know what we should do!" she smirked up at the team, her eyes basically sparkling as she looked at them as if she held all the answers in the world.

"let's just give up and die" she exclaimed

nekoma looked at her with blank smiles, nodding along as her confident smile never leaves her lips "let's not do that" nekomata butted in "instead, we need to practice more"

"so kenma, y/n.. since you two are going out anyways, go ahead and buy the team some snacks when you return"

while nodding enthusiastically, she practically bolted out of the gym, dragging kenma along by his collar like a cat

"y/n, let go of me" kenma grumbled as he struggled to play his game

she simply ignored him and took one of his hands anyway. she intertwined their fingers while she swings their arms back and forth

"i lost" kenma sighed in defeat as he pocketed his phone he looked down at their hands and smiled, letting her swing their arms around like a child while she sings some strange 'suicide song'

"are you sure you're supposed to be wandering around after what happened to you?" kenma asked "i mean, i didn't believe you at first about the mafia thing, but obviously you weren't lying.."

she chuckled and shook her head "oh please" she sneered "what do you expect is gonna happen? you really think they'd approach me in broad daylight-"

she cut herself off as she saw chuuya and akutagawa walking towards their direction

"nevermind. they are indeed approaching me in broad daylight"

kenma didn't react much, but his hand squeezed hers tighter and he ducked his head down in a way of hiding himself. y/n glanced worriedly at him before meeting eyes with chuuya

"kenma, is running from mafiosos perhaps listed in your bucket list?" she asked playfully

"no.. why-"

"well then cross that shit off because we're gonna need to run"

"i wanna go back" kenma panted out "all this running isn't good for my teenager body" he whined

"we ran like three blocks, kenma" she laughed softly

"thats too much" he pouted

they finally arrived at their initial destination, the ramen shop which they planned to eat at. "im so tired" kenma muttered as he rested his head on the table. while, across from him, y/n was sat, playing with the ends of his faux blond hair while she waits for their food to arrive

"ma'am, sir, here's your food!" the waitress announced as she stands before them, holding a tray of two ramens

"thank you, belladonna~" y/n cooed at her, making the girl giggle

"damn. didn't know girls like her were your type" kenma commented as he loudly slurps at his noodles. he narrowed his eyes at her, grumbling to himself while y/n unbotherdly eats her food

"well, i like all women kenma-kun" she said "but she, especially, looked like someone to agree on a double suicide"

"what about men." he asked

"it depends" she shrugged "for example, you would probably never say yes to a double suicide proposal.."

"but i bear with it because you're cute <3"

"oh okay."

a wave of comfortable silence washed over them as they continued eating, with y/n blurting out jokes here and then

"kenma-kun.." she suddenly piped up, her tone was guarded, almost as if she was on edge "yes..?" kenma answered back hesitantly

"it seems there's something inevitable in my agenda" she sighed

"huh? what is it?" kenma asked worriedly

she then stood up and smiled sheepishly at him "i gotta go to the bathroom!" she exclaimed. kenma deadpanned, though he sighed in relief as he watched her make her way to the comfort room

just as he was about to pull out his phone, somebody had cleared their throat. well, it was more like coughing for half a minute straight, but let's not get into that.

"so it's you." akutagawa muttered in a low tone

"um.. can i help you.." kenma muttered back nervously

he gulped as he fiddled with his twitching hands. it was no mistaking that the man dressed in all black was akutagawa himself. he's made quite a name for himself after appearing in quite a few news articles and headlines.

"i don't get what y/n-san sees in you" akutagawa scoffed

kenma furrowed his brows but didn't say anything back. his glare alone was enough to leave him shaking in displeasure and anxiety. kenma could feel akutagawa's hatred, anger, and jealousy practically eating at him.

"tch. first that wretched tiger, and now you. as far as my respect goes for her, this is just sad." akutagawa said with a scowl "her standards in subordinates and companions have gone down the drain." akutagawa sighed

kenma took in a breath of air and opened his mouth to speak. "um.. are you-"

"dont speak to me, you pest" akutagawa snarled at him "your existence is not only a disgrace to society, but your presence around me is displeasing and disgusts me to the core."

kenma didn't speak after that. why would he? this actual criminal just called him a pest and a disgrace, after all.

in all honesty, all kenma could think about was:

'what is with that vocabulary?'

"oh my, couldn't you tell this was the ladies bathroom?" she chuckled as she made eye contact with chuuya through the mirror "or were you too short to see the sign?" she teased

chuuya scoffed and locked the bathroom doors, making sure no one was inside and that no one could enter.

"what do you want, chuuya?" she asked, her bubbly smile dropping as she leaned back against the sink

"isn't it obvious?" chuuya replied

"no not really" she shrugged, laughing under her breath as she eyes him suggestively "is it because you wanna make out? go for a quickie? or-"

"SHUT UP! as if i'd wanna do that with you!" chuuya yelled at her

"oh please, you act as if i'd want to as well" she scoffed "the only thing i actually like about you is maybe your taste in shoes" she hummed

chuuya blinked dumbfoundedly at her words, as he looked down to inspect his shoes. "you think?" he muttered quietly

"just kidding, ofcourse" she sneered

"you-!" chuuya yelled in aggravation as he went in to kick her head, but sadly missed as she ducked down

"give it up" she sighed "just tell me what you want and let's leave each other be" she said

chuuya clicked his tongue and pulled out a back envelope sealed with wax. "boss wants to give you this." he said, handing her the envelope "said something about claiming back your place as executive"

she smiled in amusement as she inspected the paper. "is that so.." she trailed off. she turned around to turn the tap on, letting the water run as she placed the envelope under it, letting it soak and slowly break away.

"well, tell mori-san that i appreciate the welcoming invitation, but i'd have to say no" she said

chuuya's eye twitched at her answer, feeling himself feel dissatisfied and angered. "tch, what the hell, asshole?" chuuya exclaimed as he grabbed her by the collar of her nekoma uniform

"oya? is something wrong, chuuya?" she asked calmly

"why won't you come back?! you're gonna waste your damn life rotting away in that agency!" he exclaimed with gritted teeth "you'll have everything back in the mafia! why won't you come back!"

"we can be partners again!"

she didn't answer, but simply stood still, letting him crumple her shirt in his balled fists as he let out ragged breaths. the sound of the still running water filled the air.

"chuuya.."

she sighed and pried his hands off of her, turning around to turn off the faucet before facing him once again. "i joined the agency in accordance to a dear friend's advice." she said "i was told i'd find a my reason to keep living, and more so the path to clear my mind of evil and good."

"being with you again would most definitely be wonderful"

chuuya looked up at her, his throat drying up as he watched her take off a small golden star pin from her school tie. he didn't stop her as she started placing it on his coat. nor did he stop her when she placed a small kiss on the back of his hand.

"but maybe in another life, we could be partners once more" she chuckled

"that pin suits you" she said "it matches with your hair. keep it on, alright?"

it was all she said before walking off, opening the door and closing it behind her, leaving him alone with the faint sounds of dripping water. chuuya looked in the mirror, fiddling with the pin with his hands.

"tch. another life, my ass" he scowled, wiping off the tears that brimmed his eyes

"why the hell do i have to wait that long?"

as she stepped out of the comfort room, she walked back to the table she and kenma were sitting at, only to find him literally itching to run off. as kenma made eye contact with her, he immediately grabbed her arm and pulled her out the door

"woah woah! calm your horses, pudding" she chuckled "what's wrong?"

"what's wrong is the fact that akutagawa came up to me and literally started degrading and insulting me???" he exclaimed

"what?" she asked with furrowed brows

"he was badmouthing me with really deep words and insults! like, i didn't even know what some of the words meant.." kenma grumbled "im so glad he left after like five minutes"

"also, what took you so long?" kenma asked her "i got caught up in a conversation with an old friend, that's all" she answered nonchalantly

"right.." kenma nodded, though he wasn't convinced. he took notice of her crinkled shirt and collar, as well as the lone pin that she always wears, which was now missing.

"y/n? can we just go back please?" kenma pleaded

"of course, kenma" she said with a smile "im sorry you had to deal with akutagawa-kun"

"its fine.. i just wanna go back" he said in a dismissive tone

the walk back to nekoma was quiet. they had stopped by a nearby gas station for some snacks to give to the boys, but other than that, no one really talked.

"im gonna ask kuroo something" kenma said before he walked off

she simply nodded with a raised brow as she watched the pudding head march up to his best friend

"y/n-senpai!" inouka called for her. shaking her head, she disregarded kenma and rushed over to the first years.

"kuroo, i need advice." kenma blurted out "oya oya? what kind of advice?" kuroo asked back

"the y/n kind" kenma groaned

"we went out to eat but at some point she went to the bathroom.." kenma started

"i asked her why she took so long, and she told me she talked to a friend. but im pretty sure it's that chuuya person"

kuroo crossed his arms as he looked at his friend questioningly "what makes you say that?" he asked

"we ran into him for a quick moment, then i saw the guy with him at the ramen shop" kenma answered vaguely

"well.. i dunno much about what happened but.." kuroo trailed off "i think theres really only one thing you could do" the bedhead captain said

"and that is?"

"confess your feelings, duh!" kuroo whisper shouted

"i-i don't have feelings for her!" kenma whisper shouted back

"you did not just say that, oh my fucking god" kuroo groaned out in aggravation "you're literally asking me for love advice because you got jealous over an old acquaintance of hers" kuroo deadpanned

"i never said i was jealous.." kenma muttered sheepishly "you don't need to say it, i could already tell" kuroo laughed at him "but seriously, kenma.." kuroo mused, a huge grin creeping up onto his lips as he slapped his hand on kenma's back

"go get your girl!"

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scandeniall · 4 years

Text

Dear Diary

song 1: dear diary | good & bad masterlist | prev | next

Pairing: sakusa x reader

Summary/warnings: life has been kicking your ass yet you don’t want to tell sakusa/profanity

WC: 1.5K

“How’ve you been,” you paused debating on answering honestly or not. Switching your phone to speaker, you fiddled with the covers resting beneath your fingers before sighing out. “I miss you Yoomi.” A silence comes settled through the phone line. “How are you doing?” The insistence of your well being causes another sigh to escape your lips. Of course he could tell that something was off even through the phone and a part of you curses his observational skills. “Im just--really fucking stressed,” you mutter out reluctantly.

“Have you been taking care of yourself? Eating real meals and getting proper sleep?” The questions being rattled off on the other side of the phone causes you to crack a small smile at his concern. You could only imagine the furrow in his brows at the thought of a lack of concern for your own health. You almost miss the ending of the questions as he tells you not to lie to him. Your silence causes Sakusa to sigh on the line.

“Sometimes I hate how much you really know me.” You voice the thoughts that had previously been in your head. Sakusa could hear the slightest of background noise as you maneuver yourself under the warm comforter and shifted to get comfortable. “Do you need me to come home.” The words aren’t phrased as a question, and that causes you to quickly shake your head despite the fact that he couldn't see that.

“No-no. Yoomi, it's fine. I just- I just need to get my mind right and relax. I just needed to hear your voice tonight, that's all.” You tell him, despite wanting nothing more than for him to be back with you.He’d been on the road for the last month, a series of away games and such. And right before he left, you’d been out of town on a major business trip. It seemed as if time nor luck were your friend. It’d been at least a month and a half since the two of you were anywhere near one another. He’d still be gone another month and all either of you could do was wait it out.

The silence that followed your response was telling. You could already imagine the way Sakusa has his eyes narrowed in thought. Thinking about whether he should push for your well being or let it go for now. The quietest sigh escaped his mouth from the other side of the phone. He’d made his decision. “I miss you too. I’ll be home soon.”

Life after that phone call seemed to grow progressively worse. Not only had you and Sakusa not been able to squeeze in another talk in the following week, but life sucked. Your job has been giving you more and more responsibility, and allowing you more freedom. On one hand that was great, a celebratory text sent to your boyfriend at the talks of you in for a promotion, however it was tiring. You were coming home later and later, exhausted and starting to neglect your own health.

It’s not you were intentional in the neglect. It just felt too damn hard to come home after a long day and cook a healthy and fulfilling meal. When you were home you were suddenly reminded of just how empty the apartment was without Sakusa. Dust that was normally absent due to his cleanliness began to appear. Dishes piled up more than he would have liked. Whenever you did bother to straighten up at least for his sake, it drained you.

Adulthood was really kicking your ass and it came to a head one night when you woke up sweating. As if life couldn’t drag you down even more, your AC had gone out right during the hottest part of the summer. Come morning you found out that your landlord had gone on vacation and could not and would not be able to fix the unit for at least a week.

So you’d done what you usually did. Sucked it up and forced yourself to push through. Not a word of your woes to Sakusa who had more important matters to attend to other than your slump. You went to work, exhausted yourself there and dragged your feet into the dreaded heat of your apartment.

Upon entering you were automatically hit with a wave of heat, making your already sluggish steps heavier. Kicking your shoes off you offhandedly waved hello to the person seated on the couch before dragging yourself towards the kitchen like it was completely normal. A moment later you stopped in your tracks. “Yoomi?”

The slightest nod from your boyfriend caused you to blink in surprise before launching yourself into his arms. “What are you doing here,” you muttered as his hands ran up and down your back. Pulling away slightly you eyed him. He looked tired. Eyes unusually sunken and you noticed the tiniest sheen of sweat across his forehead. You went to pull away knowing the touch paired with the heat would likely make him uncomfortable. To your surprise, the hands wrapped around your middle didn’t make any moves to release you. “You needed me so I came home.”

You felt a squeeze in your heart as your arms tightened wrapped around his shoulders. “But I didn't say anything—“

“Your voice. On the other week. And then your texts were different.” Of course he noticed. The conversation had already signaled to him that you weren’t the best. Your shaky exhales as you insisted that you were fine and that he didn’t need to come home. Then he noticed the jokes within your texts began to slowly subside. You’d also found yourself saying that you missed him more than usual. “So you came back?”

“I have a 3 day weekend this week. Then I’m back to practicing.” You nodded in understanding the two of you releasing one another and you noticed Sakusa frown. “Why’s it hot?” You explained about the broken AC and about the suffering you’ve endured for the past 2 days. “Did you get any more fans?” He looked annoyed once you denied purchasing any additional appliances knowing he’d had to get that done for you. “You know you’re more susceptible to nosebleeds in the heat right?”

“Thank you Dr. Omi,” you teased, laughing at his scowl from the nickname. The two of you settled onto the couch, your head coming to rest on his shoulder. “It’s common knowledge.” His replies allow a lightness to settle in your heart. One you hadn’t felt in weeks. The two of you settle into a silence for a little while his hand rubbing soft circles on your knee. “You need to take better care of yourself. And tell me when you need me.”

“I didn't want to take you away from your busy schedule,” you hum out. You feel the movement against your knee stop, a former grip replacing it. “I don't care how busy I am, I’m here. Now stop being annoying and tell me things.” You feel yourself jokingly roll your eyes before agreeing. However that wasn’t enough as you heard the scoff from next to you.

“I’m serious. You remember what you told me back in college”

“Pretty sure I told you a lot of things back then,” you tease, taking his closest hand and interlocking your fingers. “You believed in me,” he started catching your eyes. “Told me you always knew there was no limit to me. That means I can handle it. Don’t feel like you’re annoying me.” Your eyes widened at how he remembered that very specific moment.

It was around 4 years ago. He’d just told you that he signed to MSBY, something everyone around him was dying to know. Yet you were the first person he told. He remembered how your eyes beamed as you sat on his lap, your phone camera in his face recording the moment for memories sake. He didn’t even bother swatting it away like he usually did. He’d allowed you to place messy kisses all across his face despite the feel of your tacky chapstick. “Why do you remember that,” you questioned a soft smile gracing your own features.

You notice the shrug of his shoulders as he helped to to sit you sideways into his lap. “Doesn’t matter. Now tell me what’s wrong. And then we’re going to get some fans.” You nodded leaning so that your lips met his for a soft kiss. “I really missed you,” you murmured into the kiss. And while he was only there for the weekend it was enough. He came home for you. The one who has loved and supported him with open arms for the past 5 years. He’d be damned if he didn’t try to make up for it.

So you told him everything on your mind. Laughing every time he scolded you for the little things. “Don’t let the dust build up by the time I get back next month.” To “You need to sleep more.” And in return you got the same. You got the story from the exhaustion laced in his eyes. The hours it took to get to you, and the germs he forced himself to sit through to make it happen. And despite the annoying heat in the apartment, neither of you have felt that good in a while.

a/n: wow i FINALLY got at least 2 consective songs in a row done so now my prev/next is relevant for at least 2 parts. This took a different route than I initially planned for, nor is it exact in its storytelling. It was also started 2 months ago and finished now bc it was kinda hard for me. Anyways hi um did you catch the no limit to you ref? bc yeah i love that and to date still my fav piece ive ever written. you dont have to read that to understand this but its 5.4k words if you have some spare time.

anyways: im about to be on an 8hr car ride so feel free to request stuff. rules

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #sakusa x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #hq imagine #hq imagines #sakusa imagines

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years

Text

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 7: Forget Everything You Know]

Hi y’all! I just wanted to take a moment to thank you all so much for reading and for showing me and my fics some love. You better believe that I see EVERY. SINGLE. reblog, comment, tag, and message, and they mean the absolute world to me! I know that a lot of content creators are frustrated and taking breaks right now, but rest assured you will not be able to get rid of me if even a SINGLE person looks forward to something I write. I’ll finish this fic (eventually), and I’ll finish the next one too (it already has a name!), and I won’t disappear or leave the Queen/BoRhap fandom at any point in the foreseeable future. Lots of love to you all, stay safe, and I hope you enjoy! 💜 💜 💜

Chapter summary: Y/N brings home some friends; Brian attempts an intervention; John draws a line; Roger gets an answer.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @killer-queen-xo @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @bookandband @queen-crue @jennyggggrrr @madeinheavxn @whatgoeson-itslate @brianssixpence

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

“Smile, everyone!” Your dad peeks through the viewfinder of the Canon F-1 and beams. “One...two...three...say Queen!”

“Queen!” you all shout gleefully. The flash illuminates the dining room, and you blink away momentary blindness. The table materializes back into vision: lobsters, clams, haddock chowder, sourdough bread, fried oysters, pierogis with Vermont cheddar cheese, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes...and, of course, Boston cream pie for dessert.

“Ah, perfection,” your dad sighs contently. “Please continue, Mr. Mercury.”

“Mr. Mercury!” Brian whines, incredulous. “Like he’s got a bloody PhD or something!”

Freddie cracks a lobster claw. He hasn’t taken his sunglasses or wrist-full of clanging bangles off all afternoon. Your parents are profoundly confused by him, but welcoming nonetheless. “I’m a professor of lusciousness. Pay attention and you could learn something.”

Brian rolls his eyes and dunks a hunk of sourdough bread into his chowder.

“So,” Freddie tells your mother between bites of lobster dripping with drawn butter. “Our darling damsel in distress was in the clutches of that horrid, dodgy wanker when none other than our very own Roger Meddows Taylor—”

“You weren’t even there!” Brian protests. “I wasn’t even there! This is, what, a third-hand account?!”

“Eat your soup, peasant. Thank you. Anyway, our beloved Roger comes raging out of nowhere, red-faced, nostrils flaring, a terrifying sight to behold, grabs this guy by his hair and slams his despicable face directly into a marble column. Broken nose, cracked orbital socket, blood everywhere! It was magnificent. I’ve never been more proud.”

“Good for you!” your mother cheers, patting the back of Roger’s hand encouragingly. He smiles at her, warmly, radiantly, like the wildfire he’s always reminded you of. And you marvel at how every human on this earth is made of the same fundamental components—blood and muscles and vessels and nerves, hearts and enigmatic brain matter and ribs, vulnerable parts, armored parts, all webbed together like nature’s own organic circuit board—and yet the marks they leave on you can feel so different: burns, scars, bruises, shadows, imprints that are deep enough to brush bone and never fade.

“Mom, the guy could have died!”

“Did he?” she asks innocently.

“Nope,” Roger says.

“Well then, Mr. Taylor here is a hero in my book.”

“Mr. Taylor!” Brian groans.

“I was petrified he would turn out to be the son of an executive or producer or something and the band would be ruined,” you say. “Fortunately he was just someone’s annoying frat brother from college who already had a reputation for being a sleazebag. So, we were in luck.”

“You were in luck that Mr. Taylor was there,” your mother points out, gazing at him dreamily. This delightful English boy is going to be my son-in-law and give me gorgeous, doe-eyed grandchildren, that look says.

“Yes, a literal superhero,” John says ruefully, sipping a Manhattan. Your dad has a passionate love for mixing cocktails, especially for guests who also happen to be rock stars.

“Mom. Don’t make his ego any bigger, please. I’m begging you.”

Roger snarls around a mouthful of Boston cream pie, sending your mom into a fit of giggles.

“I’m just glad you’re okay, dear.” She smooths your hair. “And that you have people to keep you safe all the way over there across the ocean, and that you’re happy.”

“Yes, your work environment is much improved, isn’t it?” Brian says. “That supervisor you had at the hospital was an absolute bear!”

Your dad strokes his short grey beard. “Well...” he admits. “That may have been my fault.”

Brian’s brow crinkles. “Really?”

Your mom turns to you. “You didn’t tell them?!”

“Oh, is there a scandalous backstory?” Freddie inquires, elated. “Do tell, darling!”

“Once upon a time, in a kingdom far far away—just kidding, it was here in Boston—my archnemesis Patricia and my dad dated.”

Roger drops his fork, appalled. “No!”

Freddie’s nose wrinkles in revulsion. “Why?!”

Your dad rocks back in his chair and laughs loudly, heartily. “She wasn’t always so cantankerous, if you can believe it. She was a sweet girl, wonderful even. But then I met my future wife, and...” He smirks guiltily. “What can I say? The heart wants what it wants!”

You nod along. “And I got the illustrious honor of being an outlet for the frustration stemming from Patricia’s lifelong unrequited love.”

“You saucy minx!” Freddie playfully lashes your mom’s shoulder with a cloth napkin. “Homewrecker!”

She chuckles, not the least bit offended. “People get together under all sorts of strange circumstances, and you know what? You can’t wreck a home if the home wasn’t already half-wrecked before you got there, that’s what I think.”

Roger raises his Patriot’s Punch. “I’ll drink to that.”

Brian clutches his New England Express, bewildered. “Are we...toasting to infidelity?”

“Oh, does that horrify you?” Rog asks sarcastically. Brian grimaces, but dutifully raises his glass.

“We’re toasting to love,” your dad clarifies. “However it comes, as long as it’s true.”

John holds his Manhattan aloft. “To love.”

Freddie clinks his Flying Elvis against the other beverages, including your parents’ wine glasses and your Cranberry Crush. “Cheers!” Then Fred glances at the clock and swiftly polishes off his slice of Boston cream pie.

“Can’t you all stay a little longer?” your mom pleads, collecting plates and gazing longingly at Roger. “This has been so much fun...”

“They have soundcheck at seven, Mom. We have to leave for the stadium soon.”

“Well, before you jet off to your next adventure, can I treat anyone to a long distance call?” your dad asks.

Brian perks up. “Really?!” You know there’s a ring in the future for Chrissie; not an expensive or extravagant ring (not that Chris would want that anyway), but a ring nonetheless. You know because Brian has taken you shopping to help him choose one.

“Of course! You can use the phone in my office. It’s Valentine’s Day, after all. I’m sure there are some lovely ladies back in jolly old England who would be over the moon to hear from you.”

“That would be very much appreciated!” Brian says. “And thank you so much, this has been such a treat, you have no idea how long it’s been since we had a proper homemade meal.”

“I had to rehabilitate the reputation of us Yankees, didn’t I? Now come on, Mr. May, I’ll show you to the office...”

“Mr. May...I like the sound of that!”

“Ten minutes, Bri!” Freddie calls, following them down the hallway. “Then it’s my turn...!”

You begin gathering up the empty glasses, but Roger promptly snatches them away. “No way, Boston babe. You go relax. I’ll help your mom.”

“I think she’s in love with you.”

He grins. “Do you have a secret stepdaddy fetish I could exploit?”

“Oh my god. Roger.”

He snickers and sweeps off into the kitchen. It’s only then that you realize John has disappeared. You check the kitchen, the living room, the hallway, the study, and finally the front porch; John is standing outside in the cold, smoking and watching the setting sun. The sky is threaded with cerulean, rust orange, lavender, indigo. You pull on your coat and go out to join him.

“We’ll make it to Florence one of these days,” you promise John, resting your arms on the wooden, white-painted porch railing. Your mother hung baskets of fresh flowers for the band’s visit, which swing lazily in the breeze. “Crank out a few more hits and we’ll get the record company to add it to the tour itinerary.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice.”

“Are you going to call Veronica?”

He shrugs, frowns, exhales a lungful of smoke into frigid New England air. “I don’t know if I should.”

“You don’t think she’d like that?” you ask, confounded.

“I think she might like it too much.”

“Ohhhhh.” You read his soft greyish eyes, which are faraway and somber, sad even. “I’m sorry, John. You know she’s wild about you.”

“I know it.” He takes a drag off his cigarette. “She’s the first person who ever was, actually. The first person who ever noticed me. Came up to me out of the blue at a disco and asked me to dance, me! So I said yes, like you do when you’re the guy nobody notices. And then I said yes again, and again, and again, until one day I realized...oh, this girl thinks we’re getting married. When the hell did that happen?”

“I noticed you,” you contest.

John chuckles and nods. “You did,” he agrees. “Right away. Tried to win me over when I was too nervous to finish a sentence around you. But that was long after I’d met Veronica.”

“Well, you can’t break up with her tonight. On Valentine’s Day?! That would be traumatic.”

“Agreed.”

“We’ll have a few days in London between the American and Asian legs of the tour. You can think it over and decide what to do then. I’m happy to arrange the getaway taxi if that’s something that interests you.”

“Yeah.” Again, he peers out into the Western horizon, into rising stars.

“John?”

Now he looks to you. He’s a little too thoughtful, too low. There’s something you’re not seeing.

“...Is there somebody else?”

He doesn’t speak; he just stares at you with those velvety azure-grey eyes, drums his fingers against the railing, lets the ash from his cigarette crumble into the snow-dusted Blue Pacific Junipers.

Roger barrels through the front door and out onto the porch. “There you are, Deaks! I thought we were going to have to find a new bassist. Enlist Nurse Nightingale’s mum or something.”

John smirks and crushes the rest of his cigarette in your father’s ashtray. “I suspect you’d do just fine without me.”

“Oh no. No way. Not happening.”

“That’s kind of you,” John says, unconvinced.

“Here, I’ll prove it.” Rog holds out his calloused hand. “If you ever leave, I leave too. Come on, Deaks, shake on it. It’s official. It’s a pact. There’s no Queen without John Deacon.”

Reluctantly, trying not to show how pleased he is, John shakes. “Alright.”

Roger grins triumphantly. “Signed, sealed, delivered. You’re ours for life, baby.”

“Deaky, do you want the phone?!” Freddie yells from inside the house.

John sighs and exchanges a knowing glance with you. “I guess I should say hi.”

“Okay, but quickly!” Rog presses. “We gotta go!”

“So bossy...” John ducks inside; and Roger, though he’s not wearing anything over his pale pink button-up shirt—sufficiently sophisticated to impress your parents—comes to the porch railing to join you.

“You’re not staying out here, are you?” You eye his thin shirt worriedly, the goosebumps rising over his collarbones, his bare forearms where he rolled up his sleeves to help your mom wash the dishes.

He tosses you a mischievous wink. “I’ve got no one to call.”

Roger looks up at the hanging baskets of flowers, plucks out a cerise carnation, and offers it to you. You mean to say something witty, something sardonic, something that will make him laugh; but all your words vanish into cold February air. You take the carnation, smiling helplessly.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Roger whispers.

You just let me know if you ever change your mind, okay?

Okay.

He turns to go back inside the house.

I won’t fall in love with him. I won’t fall in love with him. I won’t fall in love with him.

Then Roger pauses in the doorway. “You coming, Boston babe? I can’t have you catching pneumonia or something. I won’t know how to fix you.”

Oh, you realize, with horror and yet relief, all those grueling lies stripped away. It’s too late.

~~~~~~~~~~

You knock on the frame of the dressing room door. “Hi Bri!”

He glances over from where he sits in front of the mirror, rimming his eyes with inky liner. Soundcheck went swimmingly, and now Queen has thirty minutes until they need to be onstage. You can hear the disembodied reverberation of voices from the waiting crowd through the walls. “Hello, love. Come in.”

“Freddie said you needed to see me. Did you rip a sleeve or something? I brought my kit—”

“No, it’s not that.” He pats the chair beside him. The boys practically always get ready together before a show, but you suspect profoundly introverted Brian is experiencing one of his post-socialization crashes after dinner with your parents. Something about him is tired, very tired, almost drained to empty. “Join me.”

“Sure,” you say cautiously. You shove your medical kit onto the countertop and then reach to feel his forehead. “Are you feeling alright...?”

“I’m fine, love. I just have a favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

Brian sighs deeply, sets down the eyeliner, swivels his chair towards you. “I need you to promise me that you’re not going to start seeing Roger.”

You titter, deflecting, brushing Brian’s hair away from his troubled, angular face. “Well, as the official Queen touring nurse, I see him quite a lot.”

Brian catches your wrist. “I’m being serious.”

Now your brow knits into tight agitated lines. “I’m curious as to why you think that’s something you have a say in.”

“Bloody hell, I’m not trying to offend you—”

“Job well done.”

“Dear, please, listen to me—”

“Eight months,” you hiss through your teeth as you tear away from him. “For eight months I’ve listened and avoided and resisted and ignored and it’s not going away.”

“Oh, fuck,” Brian breathes in despair. “You love him.”

There are tears biting in the periphery of your vision; you don’t want them to be there, but they are. Your voice is hoarse and trembling. “Bri, please don’t.”

Brian shakes his head and motions with his hands frenetically, desperately, trying to make you understand. “Look, sometimes...sometimes the people we love, the people who own us, the people who fucking set us on fire...they’re not the people we end up with. And that’s not always a bad thing. It’s necessary. It’s self-preservation. Because sometimes the people who set us on fire would burn us alive.”

You gape at him, furious, stunned. “That’s just fantastic, Brian. You’re a true romantic. Jesus christ, does Chrissie know about this? Is that why you’re with her, because she’s, what...safe?!”

“No, that’s not fair, Chrissie’s great, she’s steady and supportive and she’ll make a wonderful mother one day, and my parents adore her—”

“Those aren’t reasons to marry someone, Brian!”

“They are!” He leaps to his feet. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you! You have to think about these things, you have to be rational, you have to protect yourself—”

“Why the fuck do you care?” you flare bitterly.

“Because you saved my life.”

“Stop it, I didn’t.”

“You did, I truly believe that. And I want you to stay with the band. And I want you to be happy. But, dear, please, I’m begging you...this is not the way to do it.”

“I’m not going to go out to some pub and drag home a random guy who’s suitably passionless and predictable enough to be Brian-May-approved.”

“That’s not what I’m asking you to do—”

“Because you’re such an expert on relationships!” you shout, exasperated. “Planning to propose to Chris while you’re still secretly pining over some fling from New Orleans, fucking groupies and then having the nerve to mope around guilt-ridden the next morning as if anyone but you was responsible for that decision, and do I say anything about it?! Do I ever say a single fucking word about it to you, or Fred, or Roger, or your future wife, or anybody?! No, because it’s not my life!”

The dressing room door flies open and John storms inside. “What’s going on?!”

You cross your arms and stare at the floor. Brian’s wide green eyes flick to John, to you, back to John. If it was Freddie, Brian would tell him in a second, would try to enlist him in the effort, and it would probably work; but John is a different story. John won’t side with Brian over you, everybody knows that. And John has a talent for sharpening words into blades. “Um. Nothing.”

“I could hear you in the hallway,” John says flatly. “Obviously it wasn’t nothing.”

Brian points to you. “Have you tried to talk her out of this? Maybe you should, maybe she’d listen.”

“It’s not my choice to make, just like it isn’t yours. Worry about your own body count. It seems to be growing exponentially these days.”

Brian scoffs. “Because you’d be so thrilled if she ended up with him, right?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” you demand.

Brian and John glare at each other from across the room. John raises his eyebrows, daring Bri to answer. Brian gnaws his lower lip, but doesn’t elaborate. The air is heavy, tense, electrified.

“Don’t upset her again,” John says darkly.

Brian shows the white palms of his hands in surrender. “Fine.”

John waves for you to follow him. “Come on.” And he slams the door behind you as you both escape into the hallway.

“I’m sorry.” You chase away stray tears with the back of your hands. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to get anyone worked up right before the show...”

“Don’t worry about it. I treasure any excuse to harass Brian.”

You study him, seeking answers, seeking more than you know how to put into words. “Do you think I’m being stupid? If you do, you can tell me.”

“No,” John responds carefully. “I think you’re being hopeful. And I’d like to believe that stupidity and hopefulness are two very different things.”

You smile. “I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s very inaccurate.” He fluffs his hair with his fingertips. “Do you want to touch it before we go on stage?”

You feign demureness. “Hmm...”

“Oh come on. You know you want to. It’s extra voluminous right now, Roger shared some of his magical mousse or whatever. Something way too expensive. You should thoroughly berate him for it.”

You laugh. “I’ll see what I can do.” You comb your hands through his brunette hair, and John’s right; it’s extraordinarily full and soft, and smells like honeysuckles. “You always know how to get me smiling, don’t you?”

“You do insist that I have game. Though I remain skeptical.”

“Good luck tonight. Not that you need it.”

John’s rough thumb lifts your chin, then whisks away a tear you missed. “You’ll be watching, right?”

“I always am.” And that’s the truth; you haven’t missed a Queen show since you met them.

He beams, those gentle grey eyes incandescent. “Then we’ll have an ocean of luck.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Exactly twenty-four hours later, Queen is in New York City.

The thunderous bassline of the opening act shudders through the concrete walls. You’re staring yourself down in the bathroom mirror under harsh florescent lights, your palms gripping the cold rim of a white sink, your eyes shimmering with black and gold shadow, your lip gloss slick and crimson. There’s not a single thing left to do. You’re running out of time.

You breathe in, breathe out, snatch your purse off the floor, breeze out into the hallway.

You can hear the boys’ laughter even before you open the dressing room door. Inside, Brian is tuning his Red Special with his mantis-like legs propped up on the countertop, John is attempting to teach Freddie how to make popcorn in a microwave without setting anything on fire, Roger is scrutinizing his hair in the mirror and frowning as he rearranges it with a comb.

“Hello, darling!” Freddie warbles. “Can I interest you in some delicious and expertly-prepared popcorn?” He opens the microwave, and smoke pours out. “Oh, you bitch!”

“I’ll pass, Freddie.” You glide to where Roger is sitting, knot your fingers through his blond hair, and tug his head back so you can kiss him. He tastes like mint gum and the ghost of smoke and reckless intemperance; he tastes like everything you’ve ever wanted. There are gasps, and surely dropped jaws as well; but you don’t have eyes for them. “Okay,” you tell Roger.

He stares up at you with huge, starry eyes, a dazed grin slowly lighting up his face. “You changed your mind.”

“Come find me after the show.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You move to wipe your blood-red gloss from his lips, but Roger stops you, knits his hand through yours, stands to meet you.

“Leave it,” he murmurs. “I want them to know.”

“Want them to know...?”

His lips touch yours again, smiling and scorching and ravenous. “That I’m yours.”

#roger taylor fic #roger taylor x reader #but you can never leave fic #but you can never leave #but you can never leave series #queen fic

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mollydollyjournals · 4 years

Text

It's March 2nd and I'm 157lbs. I'm on my period so that's partly to blame, but then there's also the fact that I drank quite a bit on Feb 28th, and binged. A lot.

I decided I'm going to try to do 30 days of no alcohol. Or maybe all of March, idk. Given that the last day I drank was the day before march 1st it's kind of nicely rounded off so I'll see. But realistically, it's a really long time for me. I might only make it a week. Who knows. I want to say something to my friends and properly document if and stuff, but I'm afraid of failing. I'm already known for being flaky and not following through. I don't want people to just never take me seriously. I even feel nervous about that here, but I should remember this is literally supposed to be an anonymous blog where I can talk about the stuff that troubles me that I can't talk about elsewhere. Alcohol will also tie into food and weight stuff anyway.

I can't remember what I last said here...I know I said about doing loads of cleaning as a workout, and that I wasn't sure if I should try a higher intake with more exercise seeing as I never actually lose anything. Anyway, that. And also that Im basically permanently on a higher antidepressant dose now, which helps me with my energy levels. I hope it doesn't fuck with my metabolism too much more.

So I bought an A5 ring binder planner thing and I decided to use it as a proper weight loss and food diary. They're so damn expensive - I normally get scrapbooks or sketchbooks and use them as kind of joint planner/journal/sketchbook/whatever, but I wanted something where I could easily rearrange the pages. I love cute stationery so whenever I need to motivate myself to do something it's always good for me to do something decorative.

I think I'm going to base the contents kind of on something like this but I want a different look to it and also some different actual contents. I also won't commit to 90 days because I know I do better with smaller increments, and 30 days is already a lot. Or 31 or whatever. I really love the look of Milkjoy planners but they only make them in A6, and sometimes they have sweets as decorative stuff, which I love but I don't want anything that might make me crave junk food. So I'm staying away from food motifs unless it's lemons or carrots or something.

I'm going to have an initial section with info and stuff to reference, so I'll have a list of meal ideas and their nutritional info, a collection of recipes, a place to write out a weekly meal plan (and maybe make a grocery list? But I tend to use my phone for that irl so maybe I won't bother), and a list of various workouts that I could do. Then something relevant to me like nutritional goals (eg calorie limits, protein etc) and places to record my weight, measurements, body fat, overview stuff like that. Then the daily pages with all the stuff I want to do each day and whether I actually do them, weight, food intake etc. Maybe a recap page at the end of each week.

I'm also tempted to put a thinspo section in my info bit at the front, but to do that I'd have to arrange a load of photos to be printed and actually go print them out. My laptop is kind of dead so it'd have to be from my phone which I don't like doing. But then also if I'm gonna keep doing this sort of planner I'd like to draw myself up some proper graphics to print out so I'd have to print stuff anyway eventually. But then to do that I need my laptop working. Idk.

So. It's really my last chance to make any kind of change before my birthday. I feel like I should just push harder at restriction and stuff, but recent experience tells me that's not working. I kind of have nothing to lose (except 52lbs) by trying something else. The idea is I go for a standard "diet" amount of food, so like in the 1000-1500 range, but I do a lot more exercise. This is kind of what I meant to do when I first started this account, but I'll have more exercise this time. When I started this page all I could do was light cardio (see Reps to the Rhythm on YouTube, he's great for when you can't do intense workouts but want to do something) and light stretches and just all light stuff - now with less alcohol and more Prozac I'm able to do a lot more. At least I hope I still am. Going by the cleaning and stuff I did recently, I think I can start doing more in terms of workouts. Idk. I'll have a base amount of food to eat and only eat more if I start getting too weak or tired to do my workouts - essentially, the priority will be having the energy to exercise, rather than restricting my intake.

This is why staying away from alcohol will tie into it a lot. I'm past bad withdrawals so at this point not drinking will help my energy levels and metabolism etc. Today is the 2nd day since I drank, and I don't feel terrible, which means I haven't made myself really sick again. Thank fuck. I drank too much and I started feeling not great and I was scared I'd fucked up again. Last time it took 2 days for me to get really ill so I've been nervous. But I think I'm past the risk zone now.

I do still feel sick and a bit tired. But I think that's also due to my period. I always feel terrible on my period. I'm going to do what I can but I need to know not to push myself too much. If I do that I get exhausted and have to rest and recover and it ends up worse than if I just stayed gentle with myself. Today Ive put my laundry up to dry and I'll try to do something else again later, idk what. But I'll also keep building my planner. All these bits of advice to myself will go into it. I'll write out all the stuff I've been thinking so that it's all in one place and I don't have to remember it all or go between different sites and pages looking for it. I'll move some things around in my studio and make space for my exercise bike because I think I can start on that again soon, and space for proper upper body workouts. I might even set up a PS2 in the lounge so I can play DDR again. Idc what year it is, that is the best HIIT I've ever done and I miss it and I lost so much weight when I used to play it. So I should build myself up to be able to do loads of exercise and see how my body changes - I know that even if I don't lose weight, I'll look better and less flabby and gross. But we'll see how that all goes.

#minus50 ref

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jubilantwriter · 4 years

Text

Heart Shaped like Sea Glass

(First Part) (Previous Part) (Next)

Part 4 - Distinctions Made to be Forgotten

Summary: Daniel has to remind himself constantly where he stands in this strange relationship he’s found himself in, less he forgets who they truly are and questions the choices he’s made.

im just. really living for this au. wowzers. this is probably the most prolific i’ve been for a story. anyway i hope you enjoyed that goofy fic last time because that’s gonna be the only nice, fun treat y’all be getting for a while

// // // // //

Humans are strange creatures. They experience loss, succumb to their desires, and die in various ways that may or may not feed him. They have a strange relationship with the ocean, some hating it, some loving it. Daniel isn't very envious of them - they live such short lives, after all, and they make for filling meals that can last him for days.

So of course he doesn't know much about them. After all, they're all food to him. But this human, the one he feeds every day now, is stranger than most he encounters.

The man doesn't protest much when Daniel barges into his home (to which the human tells him is called a "shack"), and he shares his meals with Daniel without a word (after Daniel takes the time to catch him the fish of the day, of course). He has never met a human more willing and more aware of the fact that he is, in fact, Daniel's next meal.

The more he provides for the human’s meals, the more he finds himself… feeling this strange tightness in his chest. It's not that it's off-putting, he thinks. No no, it must be that... it's too easy. Yes, that must be it.

It's too easy, sharing meals with this human, sharing conversation, and having the human accept his presence as though Daniel were nothing more than a-

Hm. Well, there's no fun in a meal that is too easy to hunt.

(He tells himself this over and over. It is the only reason, correct? Why he feels this unease, this unnerving feeling when the human's eyes still continue to look dull, like the broken shards he sometimes finds washed up in the sand, before the ocean carries away the debris from shipwrecks past and present.)

That's why he should be ecstatic when the human refuses to eat one day. He should be ecstatic, the human is being more impossible than usual, and that should make things exciting, right?

...Right?

"Human." He shakes the human's shoulder again, trying to rouse him out of his fake sleep. "Get up."

The human makes no sound, instead pulling the thin, worn cloth over his body some more and refusing to show his face. Daniel growls, frustrated because- well, it's because his prey is trying to starve himself! And starved prey never tastes good. Prey flavored with a proper diet taste the best, and they taste even better when they feel that rush of happiness, of pleasure, of joy, and all those positive emotions that make them taste so much like a sublime fillet of the most richest tasting salmon, or of that meaty, hearty taste of tuna. And all his efforts will be for naught if this human refuses to eat.

"You need to eat." Half a day has passed, and the human still refuses to answer Daniel. He curses himself, shaking the human more roughly as he remembers noticing the distant look in the human's eyes, how he gave Daniel more and more of his cooked fishes, how he grew more quiet, talked less, responded less, looked at Daniel less-

He doesn't know humans. He can't read the signs. But he chest squeezes and his face heats up as he realizes belatedly that he should have noticed. That probably wasn't normal human behavior, right? Oh but he doesn't know, he doesn't know! And now this human won't get up and eat, won't acknowledge him, won't speak to him-

The stench of rot almost makes him gag as he stumbles back from the human.

He's getting worse.

And Daniel doesn't know what to do.

He runs his talons through his hair, pacing around the human's abode as he thinks, and thinks, and thinks-

His song.

If. If he can't get the human to eat normally then-

Well. This is how he was always meant to hunt, right? He's a predator. Predators hunt. They kill. They lure and trap and chase after their prey and refuse to let up. Predators don't care for their prey as though they're little chicks in need of hand-holding, nor do predators feel... emotions when they see their prey struggling.

(Predators don't pace and fret and worry over their prey. Predators don't try to make them feel better. Predators find the weakest one, the sickest one, the most injured, the weakest, the youngest- and they strike without remorse. Because food. Is food.

Food. Is. Food.)

Daniel clears his throat. It's been a while since he's sung. He inhales deeply of the human's scent, ignores the rotting, and focuses on that deep-seated desire of his.

It smells like the ache of sprouts stuck under the shade of trees, unable to grow to their fullest potential. It smells a bit like bittersweet citrus, of fruits that bite at the tongue despite how desired they are. It smells like the trees on the mountains he's flown over every winter, the scent strong and overpowering and inescapable if he chooses to fly lower to the treeline.

They weave together into a song as his feathers fluff up, and an ancient power quietly fills his chest up as easily as a single breath of air.

"Cherished beloved, come lay in my arms. I swear to you, there'll be no charms. No more visions of death and harm. Come to me, and together we'll rest. From here on out, I promise the best."

The human jolts in his bed before sitting upright quickly. He turns to look at Daniel with eyes clouded over, (eyes wide and hurt and broken and pained and the stench strengthens and makes him gag) and he utters a soft, "Davey?"

The name of his lost love. He has no idea how he looks to the human, but he can see the tears pooling in the corner of his eyes as his breathing staggers and he stumbles out of his nest. Daniel opens his arms in a welcoming manner as he backs out of the shack. A broken sob escapes the human as he struggles to his feet.

"No- don't, don't go! It's dangerous, please, come back, I-"

Dangerous? Daniel quickly stops his train of thought as he continues to sing. "Follow me, my sweetest heart, and together at last, we'll make a new start."

"Davey!" The human lurches forward and tries to grab Daniel, but he quickly leaps back and puts more distance between them. The sand sifts between his toes as the wind begins to pick up. Idly, he realizes that a storm is on its way. The human flinches as a gust of wind hits him, and he stares wild-eyed and desperate as he reaches for Daniel. "Davey, Davey, come back please, I'll protect you- please, come back here, I don't need anything else, I don't want anything else, so please, please-!"

Daniel keeps stepping back, and the waves crash against the back of his legs as the human freezes in place.

(He's used to the ocean's angry whispers by now. That's what he tells himself, as the waves threaten to pull back further and further until they crash over him like a tidal wave. Except- except, there's something else in the whispers now too. A bitterness that he doesn't expect. A bitterness that borders on... dismay?)

"...Don't." The whispered word leaves the human like a strangled gasp. He reaches for Daniel again as his eyes widen in a vision that Daniel can't see. "Don't go in."

In? Daniel looks behind him. The ocean is agitated, true, but it won't be for a few more minutes before the waves grow tall enough to sweep and pull him away from the beach. A wave crashes over his feet, pulling the sand out from under him as he adjusts his position to stay upright. But the movement is enough to elicit a scream from the human, and before he knows it, hands are grabbing his arm and he's being yanked forward and into something warm.

When did the human-!

They both stumble as the human falls backwards onto his ass, Daniel's face pressed flush against his chest as he braces himself with his hands on the wet sand. Daniel barely has a moment to lift his face away from the human when the brunette’s hands bury themselves in Daniel's hair and clothes. He's pressed tight and flush against the human as warm tears splash against his shoulder.

This... feels familiar.

"Don't go in," the human whimpers out, "the forest is dangerous."

Forest?

The human keeps Daniel in his protective grip, nearly folding the siren into his arms as he curls over the blonde. "Please, I can't lose you again...!"

Rain begins to pour heavily from the heavens. Daniel looks down to where his talons can easily dig into the human's back. How he can sink his fangs into the human's neck and rip out a chunk of flesh that would leave the human's voice garbled and choking.

Daniel is a predator.

He is a predator.

And predators hunt the weakest of the group.

His mouth draws closer to the human's neck as the rain makes their bodies slick with moisture. The human clings to him tighter, exposing the junction between neck and shoulder to Daniel at a laughably tempting angle.

All he has to do is bite down.

That's all it takes to end his prey's life.

(...That's all it takes to end it all.)

"I love you," the human breathes against his shoulder, "I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again." The human's arm slides up the space between Daniel's wings and presses Daniel's head closer to his shoulder. "I swear it. I'll protect you this time."

Rain continues to pour around them. It soaks them to their core, the water sliding off his wings as they continue to sit on the rain soaked beach. Neither of them move as Daniel slowly brings his hands up to the human's shoulders. He doesn't push away, nor does he pull closer. Instead, his voice keeps up the illusion, despite the loss of that melodic beat he's been clinging to for his songs.

"...Let's get inside."

"...Okay."

Slowly, they untangle, but the human keeps a firm grip on Daniel's wrist as he leads them back into the shack. Once inside, the human leads him towards the fireplace and sits him down in front of it. A fire is started as the human wanders off, only to return with a single, thick fabric. Quietly, he uses it to dry Daniel's hair before draping it over his shoulders.

The brunette doesn't get one for himself.

Neither of them speak for a moment as the human sits down next to him.

Neither of them move as the fire continues to fill the silence between with crackles and pops.

And neither of them acknowledge the lack of haze in the human's eyes.

Instead, they drown in the silence of their voices, the thought of food forgotten.

(The stench of rot fills the air, and he ignores the clenching in his chest as the human hunches forward. He looks up towards the roof of the shack. Rain drips through a sizable crack.

A leak.

He focuses on the plip of the rain dripping through the crack.

And ignores the plip of the salty tears dripping loudly onto the floor.

It's the least he can do after what he's managed to do.

...It's the least he can do after what he's failed to do.)

#camp camp #cc daniel #cc jasper #siren au #drabble #mood whiplash is what im good at #daniel is constantly lying to himself its amazing #he doesn't know how to tell himself the truth #what a guy #jasper to daniel #what even are we #daniel to jasper #gestures expressively but in a meaningless way

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vanityloves · 4 years

Note

Storm and ivy + medic

@septemberlove i have. no excuse for how late these are but uh. thank you for sending these in 💕.

[word count: 1.8k+ with the longest 'authors note' bc im mentally ill]

sfw, mmm comfy cozy, general sick hcs,

storm - what are cozy days in with your f/o like?

Whenever I think of cozy days, my brain immediately goes to rainy/chilly weather where we can cuddle up together and my brain short fuses. I'm gonna assume this is just like a day off or something though!

How I visual them together vs how I write them is odd because they technically don't act or accept they're 'together' until after the comics but I always write them like they're in a Steady Relationship while on base. I'm always writing a slight AU if you will. Or maybe it's after they get their jobs back at Mann co - I should highkey adjust that but No ♥️. No more thinking, just content based off my idealized universe.

There's definitely a point in their relationship where it's like 'I think I have to put in a little more work here'. I'm not saying either party is slacking but they're slacking ♥️. Neither of them really take action. Chef doesn't blame him or really complain about it because that's their nature, plus they don't know how romantic relationships really work or flow, especially with a person like him. Medic doesn't see an issue with anything and continues on with his normal business.

What I mean by slacking is, there's not a lot of quality time being spent together which would be fine if it wasn't both of their strongest Love Languages, which could help them strengthen their relationship. It's odd because they're 'romantically involved' but they don't spend a lot of time together for either of them to consider it romantic, simply because it's on company time.

ANYWAYS THATS JUST ME BEING CONVOLUTED. FEEL FREE TO JUST IGNORE ALL OF THIS.

Medic goes to bed pretty late and wakes up at a fairly early hour. Chef is a late sleeper and forced to be an early riser because their Actual Job is to make at least 2 or 3 meals a day (if they want something else, they're on their own but hate when anyone messes up the kitchen and will honestly, stand there and watch said person).

There's minimal time they can spend together if they want to do their own activities - for Medic, it's tinkering around with organs or in Engie's garage, for Chef, they're typically meal prepping or trying to tend to an animal or plant of some sort.

Medic is actually more direct about wanting attention and it's never been a problem because he's cautious about it. Chef is more emotionally inclined and willing to drop hints that they want more attention.

Chef probably has one day off where it's a complete free for all, for the rest of the team, which would be the perfect time to spend with Medic - If he wanted to stop working, that is. Just don't picture it but, Chef will literally sit in the medbay for hours just to be near the guy, but it isn't bad? The drone of machinery or the scratching of his pen is relaxing, or having his doves nearby is always sweet! Plus, he's prone to talking their ear off when he finds something interesting, so they'll chime in and have some back and forth.

But, yknow - sometimes having someone's undivided attention is nice and Chef is pretty dense when it comes to that and wonders why they feel so upset.

They swallow their pride and ask Medic if they sleep in his room one night and Medic's not as dense as Chef, he understands that they'd never ask for something so out of the blue for no reason and he promises to finish up his work early so they could head to bed together. Chef had nothing planned, they literally just needed that affection and closeness - since it was their day off Medic takes the hint and puts his work aside for the time being.

They'd probably sleep in and stay in bed a while longer before getting ready together - no uniform required. Chef isn't so talkative in the mornings, Medic's noticed, but they were happily fiddling with his buttons and tie, humming in thought before answering his questions. Medic's seen them out of uniform of course, but it's always funny seeing them in just a button up and jeans like … mom on the go vibes. Medic leaves his coat behind before making his way to the kitchen with Chef.

The kitchen usually has a couple people loitering around, grabbing their coffee or honestly, waiting around for Chef because they always make extra and these bitches are lazy. But the kitchen has now become A Medic Supremacy Zone and he has first dibs - the benefits of being w/ Chef I guess. The two would work as if the others weren't there, keeping their conversation between each other even if that means Medic tilting his head down while Chef leans in closer to reply. There's a high possibility the other have left them to their own devices, seeing as the couple was ignoring them / knows they won't be getting anything. Breakfast isn't extraordinary but it feels special since they actually get to sit across each other and share the morning today.

It's possible that they'd go out and run some errands today, but it's a cover to window shop and walk around. I'll be honest, they probably haven't had proper dates so it's refreshing. You could ask Chef what they liked the most and they're just like :] Yes.

Other times, they like to curl up and catch up with some reading (well, Medic at least) while Chef rests against him and skim over the words. They're not too invested in what he's reading but likes to have some idea of what he's talking about so they don't ask too many questions. (Very 'these words are big and english/german is not my first language + I can't read as fast as you can so I got lost 7 pages ago). Medic likes to watch Chef garden and tries to help them tend to whatever they're able to grow in the goddamn desert. He overwaters a cactus and looks away if it dies. Chef talks ab how they're growing mint and how it really took off while Medic's standing there like :] Oh, lets make tea with that. Because they're Old People (read: Medic is old)

🕊🐁

ivy - how do you take care of each other when you’re sick?

Chef is easier to take care of when they're sick. They continue working until they're pretty beat but once they feel sick and a break doesn't work, they'll try to finish up what they can before turning in early. They see themselves to bed and inform whoever's near that they won't ne there at dinner and if they really cant figure it out, then come get them - other than that, they're barricading themselves in their room.

When they're sick they're REALLY sick but recovery time is usually a few days (depending on how bad it is). They basically hibernate and don't like being disturbed. They're used to not fending for themselves since they've been on their own for a while but really appreciate all the check ins Medic does w/ them, especially when they're all better.

Medic, being...their Medic, he definitely gives them a check up when they first begin showing symptoms and he can be a stickler when it comes to drinking fluids and eating properly. Chef usually has a finicky stomach as it is so Medic really urges them to drink soups and easy foods like bread and crackers. He checks in on them A LOT, even if that's just peeking in to see if they're asleep or not. He backs off when Chef gives him a cold stare from under the covers and minimizes his intrusions/tries to be more sneaky about it. He has colder hands and they let out a sigh when he puts his hand to their cheek or forehead to check their temperature.

Chef doesn't hesitate to take any medication he has for them, mostly bc they aren't fully coherent but they also don't have energy to care, in fact they have the thought that if he accidentally kills them, maybe respawn will cure them. Unfortunately, Medic debunks this before they can even muster up the energy to ask.

Overall 7.5/10, very good patient. Will refuse to get up and accidently falls asleep in the shower which scares the shit out of him.

Medic on the other hand is very stubborn and doesn't like to stop working unless there's something that physically stops him (ex: vomiting, serious injuries [unlikely bc medigun], etc). If he tricked the Devil, surely the man can beat the common cold or flu! Unfortunately he gets those full body shivers and feels terrible. He can be pretty dramatic when he's sick and everyone's subjected to his bad attitude.

It's Chefs turn to play doctor - they can tell by looks alone that he's under the weather. His face is flushed and he's a bit sloppily put together, which isn't *too uncommon* but his tie isn't tied and his glasses lamely slide down his nose. They tsk a bit while taking his temperature just to keep track of it before ushering him to his room.

He can be dragged to bed if persistent enough. Chef's firm hold on his arm is enough for him to get off his chair and have them tug him along. He doesn't have any room to argue with them as they look up at him, so he relents, stating that a short break would definitely do him good, but he'll be up and at em by tomorrow.

Chef is doting and becomes a bit of a helicopter parent when checking on him. This mostly consists of peeking their head in but not really stepping in the room. Every so often they'll wake him up to drink water and either hand him an ice pack or offer a cold towel and move to dab at his forehead and neck.

Medic hasn't been too keen on having others taking care of him bc that's HIS job, and he often tries to shoo Chef away by saying he's more than alright now. Sometimes he's caught sitting up in bed doing work or taking notes on something bc he's a bit restless when he's sick and stationary for too long.

But he's right. He's very good at taking care of himself - when Chef offers him food he'll force himself to eat some of it and he's drinks plenty of fluids without needing reminders. He kinda bosses Chef around, telling them to grab certain medications from the Medbay. They trust his judgment on his own health and bring him what he asks for but Chef keeps a mental note of what he takes and when. Don't need the doctor accidentally taking too many pills today!

Overall 6.5/10. It's hard to get him into bed and becomes restless fairly easily. He is persistent that he's ok after one day of rest only to be found sneezing himself away in the Medbay.

#tf2 oc #self insert #medic #self ship #tf2 headcanons #my headcanons #my writing #i guess #'have you written enough?' idk you tell me.#s: soul food #if anyone reads even a part of this im sorry #💙 2d's spouse 💙#mars!!!#ahh thank you again.. sorry these are so late ahshhd i get caught up w/ other stuff so this was self care <3 !#im very passionate ab medic YSHDHD like yeah no shit bitch 🦧

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gt-adventures · 4 years

Text

Hey Little SongBird

(SFW GT fantasy adventure short story.)

A Tale of the Mystic Woods

Staring: Yonah HaEsh the half-giant wizard. and guest-starring Ophir, the mostly human bard.

Summary: Ophir the bard needs a story to get back in the good graces of the Bards Guild and ventures into the Mystic Woods to find one. And what a story he ends up in! In the clutches of the Great and Terrible Yonah HaEsh. Can Ophir, through story, song, and dance, touch the evil “man-eating” giant’s wicked heart and avoid a terrible fate? (yes of course he can!)

Warnings: Yonah’s job is to be a villainous fairy tale giant (and wizard). That means the whole “fee fi fo fum” and threatening to eat people routine, and he’s really convincing. At no point in this story does he ever intend to follow through on the threat. ALSO Ophir tells a fairytale that ends slightly gruesomely (I actually changed it to be less so… still)

---

I hate the stereotype of bards being horny tricksters who use their voices to seduce people into infidelity. Any such stories are complete poppycock and base slander. Bards are more than pretty faces and lovely voices. We are first and foremost story tellers, entertainers! Actors and chroniclers! Often risking life and limb to get you the stories you love so much. Those fancy sword moves and fight dances you see on stage aren’t just for show.

But still. Going into the Mystic Woods in search of my next story was not a great idea. Solo’ing an adventure into such a dangerous realm was asking for death, with no one around who could tell of it. And yet. I had run out of new material and was desperate. Why didn’t I just purchase rights from another bard through the guild? You might ask. Clever, very clever, but that’s what low rankers do. The apprentices, the journeyors. Not Masters such as I. At least. Not ones who are blacklisted from the guild for not properly crediting a story. How was I to know it wasn’t public domain! It seemed pretty generic to me.

Another problem with being blacklisted? No one wants to adventure with you. Not anyone high ranking enough to help me anyways.

Regardless, to earn back my place in the guild I needed a new story, an impressive story. So I gathered my supplies and took the first teleport to the City of Luster, closest city in the Kingdom of Orr to the Mystic Woods. Sure, other cities exist at its borders, but Luster is the only one with a direct path into the Woods. A path that is safe, to a point.

It’s also a great place to get a few last minute supplies. For example, a small ukulele. My previous instrument, my precious goldenrod Oud, was repossessed by the guild. I needed something cheap and lightweight. And also I was banned from purchasing from most craftsfolk because, and I’m sure you’re tired of hearing this, im Blacklisted.

Luster is so large that I was able to find the ukulele in a pawn shop. I wasn’t after a ukulele, that’s just what was there.

Right! I was ready to go.

Whistling the first ever song I wrote, and tuning my new old ukulele, I set off down the road.

And Into the Woods.

---

Maybe I should lower my standards? Surely the guild won't be too hard on me?

Or perhaps it would just take more than a day and night in the woods to find a story.

The first day I found some gnomes preparing for a small feast of the half-moon glory. I was confident that something would happen at the party. Something had to go wrong, and maybe a hero, maybe I, would save the day! Or night, as it would be night. No such luck, it was a very nice celebration, absolutely no issues. Wasted a day!!

Not that i'm on a time limit.

The gnomes were so nice, and they made the most delightful floral scented cakes. They enjoyed my songs and tales about heroic gnomes and I left their camp with a flower crown and a sack of cakes.

I felt like today I would find a story!

Nope.

In this forest of wonder and magic and monsters and secrets, I ran into nothing. I even played music to attract trouble but Nooooooooo, guess even the beasts of the woods knew I was blacklisted!

It was late afternoon when I found some interesting deer tracks and decided to follow.

Bards aren’t known for our stealth but I’m going to tell you a secret. What’s the guild gonna do! Blacklist me?

Anyways the secret is: certain Bards learn to play notes and pitches that cancel out our footsteps and create silence.

I followed the prints to find a small herd of very interesting deer!

They had really interesting patterns, each one slightly different but only if you looked closely. That meant I needed a closer look.

So focused on the deer I didn’t watch my feet and I tripped. The deer ran off.

“HEY!” a shrill voice called from somewhere in the trees, “What did you do that for?”

No idea who was yelling at me but I was taking no chances, and like the deer I bolted. But not fast enough, not nimble enough.

An arrow shot by my leg and stuck in the ground. I stopped. And stood perfectly still.

“idiot.” the voice was now right behind me!

I turned. And looked down. It was an elf! With plum purple skin and dark green hair.

And they were laughing.

Then another elf fell from the trees to land silently next to the first. This one had dark green skin and straw yellow hair. Their long ears were standing straight up reaching higher than my eyes.

They were laughing too.

“What’s so funny?”

“You responded to ‘idiot’!” Said the purple one.

Ugh. Elves!!

Then they got suddenly more serious.

“Can’t believe it! We’ve been hunting those deer for days and you happen to trip when we got them in our sights!”

“I’m, sorry?”

The second elf elbowed the first, “he couldn’t have known we were there, Damian! Not his fault!” She spoke in elvish but I’m fluent.

The first elf, Damian, looked up and half groaned half sighed, “and I suppose, Bridget, that I should apologize to the human for almost shooting him?”

I don’t know why I spoke up but I did.

“It was an impressive warning shot!”

Damian’s ears stood up again then folded back and a little red flush appeared on the purple cheeks. As did on Bridget’s but for a different reason.

“Yes. Warning shot,” they said.

This time I managed to keep my mouth shut. Not a smart idea to quip about an elve’s bunting prowess. I still wasn’t happy to learn they were trying to shoot me!

“You’re an adventurer?” Asked Bridget.

“A bard!” I said.

“Need a place to stay tonight?”

The shadows were lengthening, I hadn’t noticed. And then my stomach growled.

“I sure do. But are you sure? I mean I did scare the deer-“

Damian shouldered their bow and nodded, “It wouldn’t be very elven to leave a stranger in the woods.”

Even not hunting they moved so silently I couldn’t take my eyes off them as I followed them to their village. We stopped by the temple, as it is the respectful thing to do when entering the village. It was set up for fall, done up in browns and oranges and paper chains. On the altar was a single brown leaf. The first one seen by a member of the village.

I’m not elvish but I still prayed to Autumn for my hometown to have a bountiful harvest.

I sat on the floor in the common dining hall as my new… friends, sat on stools made of tree stumps. They may not have caught any deer but there was some sort of roasted meat concoction wrapped in sugary leaves, crystallized to give it crunch, making a sweet and savory combination I’d never experienced before. The same sugar crispy leaves were used to scoop a sort of nut and vegetable curry. Delightful! I could write a song just about the food.

I of course told them why I was in the woods, since they were curious.

And they told everyone how I tripped and fell, exaggerating it greatly. All the elves laughed but knowing elves I was better off. They enjoyed slapstick comedy. The fact that I was able to laugh at myself seemed to gain me favor.

One elf, with lighter green skin and dark brown hair laughed like the rest and yet, their eyes were deep in thought. They were a strange one, I think. Even by elf standards they had a strange name.

Jacuzzi? Who names themselves jacuzzi?

Then they spoke.

“So, you need a story?” They asked. I nodded.

“I think I can help you,” they said, “at the very least point you in the right direction.”

At their words a lot of the company got quiet.

“If you’re that desperate, there’s,” they paused, as if they were still considering whether or not to tell me, “A wizard. If you encounter him, you’re sure to get a proper story.”

I couldn’t think why this made the elf act so strange, plenty of mages made it their job to participate in tales. Though. With wizards they were usually evil, if not a member of an adventuring party. Nonetheless! A story about a wizard sounded fantastic.

“Where does-“ I stopped myself from finishing that stupid sentence. Nowhere in the Mystic Woods stayed put so asking for directions was complete folly.

“What’s the best way to, uh, find him?”

Jacuzzi shrugged “The birds have the most up to date information. But you’ll know it’s his place when you find the tower in the garden.”

Lots of wizards had towers, few had gardens. That was more of a witch thing.

“He’ll be there? Tonight”

“Probably, he can't- well he’ll be there. If not tonight then by the morning. Don’t mess with his things.”

“Why-”

“He considers it extremely rude- You don't want to be rude”

Sound advice.

“Hold on tonight?” Damian re-entered the conversation. “Are you mad? Traveling the forest at night is dangerous! Especially alone.”

“So? I’m trying to get into trouble. Doesn’t make a difference if I find it at the tower or on my way.”

My confidence wasn’t entirely fake. I had a good meal, I wasn’t tired. I could knock this out by morning!

“Thank you, for everything.”

I swear I heard giggling as I departed. If these elves were pulling one over on me well! I don’t know what I would do but I’ll think of something. I had a wizard to find.

It wasn’t long before I realized why I should have waited for morning.

No! Birds!

From Who could I ask directions? The sun was about to set. It was only early autumn, the days were still a decent length, but it would be dark real soon. No birds, no people.

Wait. I spoke too soon. There were footsteps. It was a slim chance but maybe they could help me.

“Young man, what are you doing? Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be out at night alone?”

The voice had a deep and soft quality that wasn’t human. But they were speaking Orriandish. Really folks, dont meet strangers in the forest that you can’t see. They’re usually evil witches or sorcerers or cyclops ogres. Yeah, one-eyed ogres are skilled talkers, luring people to them. It was only after I answered I realized this could be an ogre.

“Aren’t you out alone too?”

“Why yes-” the voice was closer and then I saw them.

Thankfully it wasn’t and ogre. But it was a witch, and a dwarf one. Uncommon. Probably not evil. It did explain why they were confidently out at night. Dwarves had pretty amazing night vision. They had the traditional black robe and hat, and a cat sat down beside them. It was a really large cat, which was amusing next to the short witch. Their long braided beard was decorated with trinkets, which was a quaint look I must admit.

“But I live here.”

I stood up straight, which I guess was a bit rude.

“How do you know I don’t?” I stammered, “I could!”

The dwarf stroked their beard, “I guess it’s possible, do you?”

I sighed and slouched, “No…”

“But I am looking for trouble.” I explained my story and the dwarf listened, smiling kindly.

“So the elves told me I would be guaranteed a story if I found this wizard who has a tower and a garden-”

The witch’s eyebrows raised.

“- you know this wizard?”

The cat mrowed loudly, his tail swishing on the forest floor a bit faster.

“I do indeed,” there was an extreme fondness in their voice.

“And you know where he is?”

The witch laughed, “I’d say this was coincidence, but in these parts there are too many of those to be truly coincidental. I do in fact know the currently location, and it’s close by.”

“Really!” I almost danced with excitement.

Unlike the elves the dwarf had no hesitations. They pointed me in the right direction, and informed me of a few roadblocks and landmarks.

“Thanks so much!” I waved back at them and didn’t look where I was going and almost tripped.

Almost.

“And light your lantern!”

Oh right, duh!

Finding the tower was easy with the witch’s directions. They’d even told me the thorns were fake and the vines safe to climb up. That should have raised red flags, or some color, but I was so focused on achieving my goal.

Now, we bards aren’t really known for our… physical abilities beyond dance. We can fight sure, but a fifty-foot climb is gonna leave most bards gasping for breath. I'm proud to say I was merely on the cusp of wheezing, though I was having difficulty standing.

I needed to rest. So I lay on the windowsill.

Which I failed to notice stretched so that I could more than easily lie down. The cool night air and stone felt so nice. I looked into the tower.

And my heart stopped.

I’d gotten a brief glimpse before nearly passing out, but it was different now.

Exactly the same.

But.

Bigger.

You might know, my readers, that wizards are all human. All of them. Non-humans aren’t allowed to attend the academy. I’m sure those like I, being a quarter fairy, might be let in, but... This- this giant sized workshop didn’t make any sense. A giant could not be a wizard no way. Why would the elves say this was a wizard’s tower? Did they not understand the difference between wizard, witch, and sorcerer?

But the dwarf witch, they had to know! They had not corrected me. Plus, the workshop did have a very wizard feel to it.

What was going on here?

I needed a moment to process so I rolled over to look outside. Looking inside made my head hurt.

But a Giant Wizard. If that were real, what a story! If it were fake, then well, a giant mage is still exciting. I looked once more into the room. Three desks, one for material prepping and alchemy, one that looked like the main workbench, and one… like a spare workbench? It was not very organized compared to the other. And shelves full of things I could not identify.

And on the floor, an open trap door with stairs leading down. Down to where the wizard must be.

I was thankful I had noticed the shift in scale, or I surely would have fallen 15 feet onto the floor. Instead I got out my grappling hook and rope and rappelled down. With a flick, the hook dislodged. This place was large, I would need it again.

I could have spent hours in this room, just taking in the immense magical collection, but that wasn’t why I was there. And I heard noises from down the stairs. Water? Clinking metal? I took each stair one at a time, slowly making my way deeper into the tower.

Either the kitchen just happened to be one floor down or this stairwell was enchanted to take you to the floor you were thinking about. For just as I reached the landing I saw the massive doorframe that led into what was clearly a kitchen and small dining room. Small for the giant, who was at the sink washing pots, pans, and other things.

He certainly looked like a wizard! A tall wide brimmed hat with a curling point, and robes that matched the garish colors and patterns. He had a neatly trimmed goatee and mutton chops, and long curly black hair tied behind his back. On his handsomely large nose rested thick square spectacles. Not only was he tall, he was just plain large.

I know I talked about the false stereotypes of bards, but we weren't the only profession with them. People tended to think of Wizards as more delicate, as they spent all their time studying, never going out, forgetting meals. But this, man, for he looked more human than giant except for being over 20ft tall, well the only word for it was burly.

I’d never imagined a wizard who, if you removed his wizard robes, put him in a flannel shirt and handed him an axe would be a picture perfect lumberjack. Now such a wizard was right before my very eyes.

Suddenly I was not so confident. I should have lost my nerve back at the window, when I saw the scale of the workshop. But it just didn’t hit me until I saw the giant. I’ve seen giants before, they are actually larger than this person, that made him seem more dangerous.

Oh.

Oh no.

This wasn’t just any wizard, or any giant.

This one was evil.

Maybe I could just leave! Yeah. I would just get the fuck out of here. I was not prepared to handle an evil giant wizard.

I made my decision a bit too late. The giant stopped cleaning a plate to look up and sniff the air.

Shit.

It was futile to run, but it was my only option. I didn’t even make it up two stairs before the giant roared with delight.

“FEE FI FO FUM!”

No no no! Not that!

“I SMELL THE BLOOD OF THE HUMAN KIND!”

Well technically I was quarter fairy but-

“BE THEY ALIVE OR BE THEY DEAD, I’LL GRIND THEIR BONES TO MAKE MY BREAD.”

Yeah… I should not have come here. Evil giants tend to eat people. I’d had a small hope that this smaller giant, who was very likely a proper wizard, wouldn’t. Also the line about grinding my bones to make bread? I’m no alchemist but I dont think powdered bones make for a good flour, and wouldn’t even be enough to make bread for a giant if it were! As far as I knew giants didn’t bother with such things and just gobbled people up.

Which didn’t bode well for me as this giant made it stairwell in a few seconds and scooped me up in one hand, holding me up to his face.

“How convenient, a tasty little thief” he smiled, revealing very giant-like fangs. His breath was horrible. “I was just thinking I needed some dessert.”

“Please! Mister Wizard, I did not steal anything, I am no thief! I’m a bard!”

The giant raised his eyebrows, but did not set me down, instead he turned and walked back into the kitchen.

“A bard?” he asked, “what’s your name?”

“Ophir Shel Peh!” I said.

“Not Jack then?” The giant tapped his chin, and his eyes found my ukulele. “Hm. Yes I would say you probably are a bard! I don’t get many of those.”

He sat at the personal dining table. And set me in front of him, putting his elbows on the table, and his chin over intertwined fingers. It was silent except for his breathing, and my heart in my ears. Every breath he took blew around me, and it was just a little warmer than I expected. He didn’t say anything for a long time and I started shaking, adding my rattling bones to the noise.

“Why are you here?” he asked before I fainted (I had… somehow forgot about breathing).

“Adventuring!” I couldn’t say ‘for a story’! THAT’S CHEATING. But perhaps... Ah I can’t lie to you reader. I wish I could say I was perspicacious enough to consider this giant was a professional fairytale villain. But I had no idea. I was damn lucky he was though. And he’s really good. I understand why His Mystical Majesty hired him.

Let’s get back to me being a complete dumbass shall we?

The giant’s face hardened and I worried I’d fucked up.

“Adventuring?” he asked rhetorically, but I nodded, then he looked a little morose.

“Shame, I was thinking of letting you go-”

He was!?

“-But I guess I have to eat you after all.”

He didn't sound at all troubled by it. I mean, he had threatened to do so. I backed up and he smiled, knowing he could snatch me up no matter what. I think he could tell I was going to ask why, even just to stall.

“It’s nothing personal, I don’t like intruders on my good days. But I can’t have you out there talking about me, spreading the word of a merciful giant. You’ll only get more people killed. ”

That was a lot to process but I got the gist.

“I won't talk!”

He stood up and slammed his palms on the table so hard I finally fell down.

“You’re a bard, it’s your job!”

Unfortunately he was right.

Then he looked a bit surprised by something, narrowing his eyes at me.

“I suppose,” he said, “your job also involves performing?”

I nodded.

“I don’t get to go out much,” he said, though I wasn’t sure that the entire truth “If you give me a good show, I might consider it payment for what would have been an extra special treat. I can smell the fairy blood on you.”

I tried not to make a face. My fairy blood made me smell better? Great. And there was always a chance he was lying, just to get a show and his dessert. Evil giants might be fairly honorable, but evil wizards were notoriously dishonest. So I had no idea with this evil giant wizard.

“Wh-what do you want me to do?” I asked.

He sat back down, perfectly copying his original pose.

“Tell me a story,” he said. “And perhaps I will not eat you.”

Great. Legally there weren’t many stories I could tell. You might be asking, ‘Ophir! You’re about to die, what do you care?’ Well if I live and I'm found out, I’ll be expelled from the guild for life. I’m already in hot water.

That… and the only stories I could think of were ones with evil wizards or giants, who ended up dead. Curse my stupid brain. But I couldn’t refuse, he would eat me! Guess I had no other choice.

[(adapted from a real tale)

The story of Maestro Lattantio and His Apprentice Dionigi.

It was an old tale, from the long dead kingdom of Italy, so anyone could tell it. A wild tale of a wizard and his apprentice battling it out in ways only two mages would. Wanting to be free of his abusive master, Diogini kept turning into things, animals, creatures, to escape.

But Lattantio would transform into the exact creature or monster or animated object needed to re-capture Diogini. Eventually Diogini turned into a fish and swam down a river. Lattantio declared that he was through with these games and would kill him. Lattantio turned into a kingfisher hawk, intending to snatch him out of the water, but Diogini jumped into a basket carried by a handmaiden for the princess. The handmaiden had been doing laundry, so being a fish wouldn’t do. He turned himself into a beautiful ruby ring. The princess found it in her pocket and he became her new favorite piece of jewelry.

Then one day, the King became ill, and Lattantio was called in to cure him. He did of course, and in payment, asked for the princess’s ruby ring, for he could tell it was Diogini. But he could come back tomorrow for the payment

That night, when the princess took off the ring, Diogini transformed back into a man. He apologized for his ruse, and explained that the wizard Lattantio was his enemy, and would do anything to get him back into his clutches. The princess, who at first was horrified, saw that Diogini meant her no harm, and he was as handsome a man as he was beautiful a ring. She asked how she could help.

The next day, when Lattantio returned, the princess stepped forward and held out the ring. Then dropped it to the floor. It turned into a mouse, so of course, Lattantio turned into a cat. The princess whistled to one of the palace dogs, which leapt at the cat, breaking its neck.

Diogini quickly returned to human form and separated the dog from the cat’s corpse, tossing it into the fire. The only way to be sure the evil was truly destroyed.

Impressed by Diogini’s skill and at the behest of the princess, the King was happy to make Diogini the court wizard, and his son.

]

I concluded the story, and looked at the giant, distressed to find he looked unimpressed.

“That was,” he waved his hand in a dismissal manner, “diverting, but I could just have easily read that story.”

WHAT! I’d done voices! I was dramatic and expressive! How dare he say reading it from a book could be the same! But I couldn’t be angry because I was scared.

“Though I suppose it was decent,” he continued, “just not enough to keep you alive.”

Crap.

“Dance for me,” he said, “and perhaps I will not eat you.”

It took me a few seconds to notice he wasn’t eating me, but instead was giving me another chance. But… Dance!? On this table? With my leather boots on? And my thick pants? And no music!? This was not good.

“S-sure” I said, I was still shaking badly.

Since there was no music I thought perhaps, something that conveyed real meaning through motion. I could hear the song in my head at least, so I wouldn’t falter or look like I was making shit up.

I leapt and gestured, and waggled my body in the most embarrassing ways.

“What is this crap?” said the giant after I had danced for only a minute.

“Interpretive dance, mister giant,” I said, freezing in a most uncomfortable pose.

“You’d better pick something else,” he said. “And give it some more personality”

All I knew was he had given me a second chance. Ok. So I didn’t have music, but maybe something rhythmic would be better. I didn’t have the right shoes but my footsteps were still very audible.

So I went into a new dance. Hopping and stomping and tapping my feet. Then I started singing. I had been so stupid that I forgot I could do both at the same time. I basically re-invented a few ritual dances from my hometown, used to bless the beginning of each month. If I lived through this I would go home and teach everyone.

The giant Watched me carefully from behind those huge glasses. Judge, jury and executioner.

Finally I was sore and out of breath, jumped up to land with a mighty THUNK, ending the performance.

The giant looked a bit sorry now. Why would he look sorry!?

“That was very impressive, and your singing was a nice touch, but I think such things would best be done with a group. Alone it was underwhelming.”

What did he know! I’d danced my freaking ass off! I sat down and tried not to cry as I regained my strength. Why weren’t my best efforts good enough!? I was a Master bard. But I was at the mercy of the most subjective critic. I had to change tactics. Impressing him wasn’t going to cut it.

“Well, since it’s getting late,” he reached out a hand.

“Wait!” I shouted, nearly breaking my voice which would have been a death sentence.

The giant’s hand paused, “That was so bold I’m inclined to do so, but not for long.”

“You, liked my singing?” I asked.

The hand retreated. “You could say that.” Then he caught on. “Fine. One last chance.”

He leaned back, crossed his arms, and cleared his throat.

“Sing for me, little bard, and perhaps, I will consider not eating you.”

I scrambled to my ukulele. It was so old it was already out of tune, so I hurriedly tuned it, under the piercing gaze of the giant.

“Your voice isn’t magical is it?” Asked the giant as I tuned the ukulele.

I smiled “No, it is. My fey ancestry. Never really tested its power. Mostly I’ve transfixed crowds or made them cry with the opening notes. I’ve also played monsters to sleep.”

He leaned forward as I realized my mistake and quickly added “but that doesn’t work if you know about it! Which you now do!”

Thankfully he believed me. I was telling the truth, but there was no reason for him to trust me.

“Well, just make it a nice song. I’ve got sensitive ears.”

Oh fantastic. That meant he could probably tell if I went out of key. I had a moment’s thought to play something screeching and horrible, to make him bleed from his ears, giving me a chance to get away, or at least cause him pain before he ended my life. No. My first choice of song was probably the best one.

I sat down criss cross apple sauce, but back very straight. And I strummed the opening cords.

[

In the quiet mystic morning When the sun’s just graced the land O’er the horizon, lies a story And it begs to take my hand

Now that summer’s ceased its gleaming And the harvest’s past its prime In adventure I’ve found meaning But I’ll be homeward bound in time

Bind me not, to the pasture Chain me not to the town Set me free to find my calling And I’ll return to you somehow

As the first instrumental break started I turned my attention to the giant. His face was as stoney as ever. I wasn’t hitting my mark. So I continued.

If you find it’s me you’re missing And you’re hoping I’ll return To your thoughts I’ll soon be listing On the road I’ll stop and turn

The old strings were threatening to cut into my fingers but I just used the pain to fuel my voice, powering it with agony and sorrow. I saw the giant’s brows raise as my human sized voice grew to fill the giant room.

For the wind has set me racing As my journey now begins To leave the path I’ll be retracing When I’m homeward bound again

Bind me not, to the pasture Chain me not to the town Set me free to find my calling And I’ll return to you somehow

The second, and last, instrumental break. I had started crying at the chorus and couldn’t see the giant through my tears. My last performance, and it was for my murderer.

And still my song rang out.

In the quiet Mystic morning When the moon has gone to bed When adventure’s lost its meaning…

I’ll be homeward bound

Again

My ears were ringing from the sheer volume, I was clutching the Ukulele so hard it threatened to crack. I was numb from all my efforts. Now would be a great time for him to eat me, maybe I would feel no pain.

Then, as my ears and eyes cleared up, I saw.

The giant's eyes, red. Shiny trails of tears down his cheeks. His arms were still crossed but he looked like he was almost strangling himself. Still, I did not let myself feel any hope.

“Dammit,” he hissed and sniffed, “I should eat you for making me cry.”

No. No no no no no.

“But I won’t” he sniffed again and got out a handkerchief, “You’ve more than earned your life.”

I collapsed and started crying harder. I had done it. By the gods. I had fucking done it. I let myself melt into the table, half passing out. I didn’t want to feel or think for an entire week. I guess because he wasn’t going to kill me, the giant let me lay there.

When I finally sat up he was making tea! I very much wanted to get the fuck out of there but the tea smelled amazing, almost magical.

He noticed me moving.

“I find tea helps after a harrowing adventure,” he said cheerfully.

His demeanor was entirely different. His face was softer, his voice was higher, his dark brown eyes colder, but considering they had been blazing before, it was a friendly warmth now.

That really had been an adventure hadn’t it. One that really made use of my skill set. One that was perfect to turn into a story. It had great pacing too, with just a bit of tweaking. I’d already started writing out the flowery prose and accompanying staging in my head. My interpretive dance was going to be way better in the retelling, but don’t say anything to the guild alright? Everyone embellished.

I had to scramble away as he set the table, which meant setting down a smaller table and chair for me, and then bringing over his own cup and the teapot. He touched the sides of the pot that must be hot enough to scald skin from bone like it was nothing, pouring out near boiling tea. I watched mesmerized as he used a bit of magic to pour the tea into my teacup.

“Let it cool,” he said, as he took a drink of his own tea, “I’m not normally a fan of sweetened tea, but I thought a little extra honey would do your throat some good.”

I gingerly stood up and got into the chair. It was normal sized of course, since he was giant. But here I felt like a doll that some demonic girl had set up for a tea party.

“Thanks,” I said, and indeed my throat felt raw. I couldn’t wait to drink the tea, but it was still too hot.

“I should be thanking you,” said the giant, smiling and showing off his fangs, but it no longer felt so threatening, “That was quite a show! You must be a really high ranking bard.”

My face turned very red, “I- well I’m on probation,” I admitted, “blacklisted. So really, thanks for-”

I saw his eyes glitter, literally.

“You- you never meant to eat me did you?”

He grinned even wider, “No, but I trust you won't include that in your tale.”

I shook my head.

“I very much enjoy playing the big bad giant,” he mused, “But I have other work; I can’t have adventurers showing up all the time.”

Now I was curious, “If I may ask, what else do you do then?”

There was a short pause as he considered whether or not to tell me. I wondered if it was a grand secret.

“I’m a royal wizard,” he finally said, and there was a massive amount of pride underneath his tone. And resentment. That was concerning.

My jaw dropped, “You- A Royal Wizard?”

This might be the most interesting person I’d ever met. How did a giant, or giant-esq thing become a royal wizard!? How did a royal wizard end up running an evil tower?

“You already got one tale, but if you’re not inclined to leave so soon, I can give you another.”

I definitely knew where this was going and I definitely wanted this tale.

“But on one condition,” he said. “You cannot tell it until either I or the Mystic King is dead.”

“Are- you dying?” I asked.

He laughed, “No, but I am still a villain. I try to keep a fairly low profile, but any day a slayer could show up and succeed in killing me.”

That made sense, but now that I was not mortally terrified of him, I saw that this man was much younger than I’d previously thought. He looked barely 24, a young man, and he had to worry about slayers! It also meant it couldn’t have been in this job for that long, being evil must really suit him.

“Hopefully it won’t be for years, which will give you time to make this tale as grand as possible,” he continued.

He drank more of his tea.

“I’m not great story teller,” he started off, “but I suppose the tale of how a foolish half-giant with dreams of becoming a wizard, and ending up a prisoner in the woods, might be a good one.”

Prisoner? Even more layers. Yes. This should be a good one indeed.

Though he was right. Gods, wizards! They have no concept of narrative flow! They don’t leave out details!

And yet. It was riveting. Yonah HaEsh, for that was his name which I finally learned, was half giant, half FireWitch. His father, the FireWitch, got interested in magic, but he wanted more structured study, beyond what witches can do. So he disguised himself as human to attend school. He was found out eventually, expelled and arrested for infiltrating the kingdom as a dangerous magical monster. He was almost executed before he was offered a job here in the tower! And amazingly, the Grand Master of the school had taken pity on him and allowed him to continue his studies here and graduate, earning the right to call himself a wizard.

I had forgotten about my tea by the end and it had gone cold. That was an easy fix apparently: he pinched the cup between his thumb and pointer finger. A few seconds later it was steaming again.

I finally took a sip, it was incredible. I made a mental note to write a poem or a song about it. But I had other things to think about, to talk about.

“It’s a great story,” I said, with a cockiness I should have tried to keep in check, “but it needs a lot of work. It’s a good thing I’ve got a lot of time. I’ll need to go out and interview people.”

I stood up, “Which means, I need to hear it again.”

Yonah raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“I should have been taking notes,” I said, “I need more specific dates and times and names! Oh and if you can tell me how your parents met, that would make for a great prologue.”

He stood up too, clearing away his and my tea settings. But he didn’t clean them, just put them aside.

“In that case,” he said, returning and offering his hand palm up, “We should take this upstairs.”

I still hesitated a bit, but I sat on his hand and was transferred to his shoulder. I’d never been on a giant’s shoulder before. I was tempted to touch his curly hair, since mountain giants don’t have hair, I thought it amazing that this half-giant had such thick silky locks. I settled to lean a bit towards his head for steadiness. Yonah didn’t say anything as he regathered the teapot and cups, and even got a few pieces of berry-nut bread and goat cheese. Then headed up to the workshop.

Once again, he had a human sized desk that he set on his much larger one, and human sized pens (really nice ones), and a few human sized notebooks. Though I guess, since he can reduce to human size whenever he wanted (that was part of his “disguise”), and had many human friends, it made sense.

“We can go in order,” I said, “But I think I want to start on what you got up to in school. We want people to really get attached to you and your friends so that they are on your side by the trial.”

Yonah liked that idea. I think he wanted this story to show him in a positive light, even if he was officially evil.

We worked through the night. And my second cup of tea got cold.

[FIN]

[PLEASE REBLOG and/or tell me what you think in an ask/message!]

FOR REFERENCE, HERE’S HOW THE SONG SOUNDS: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VooU55wzSEc

Liked this Mystic Woods story? I have more!

For GT ONLY stories: gt-adventures.tumblr.com/tagged/mystic+woods+story

[I have to mention, that I have many more Mystic Woods stories, however those contain safe/soft non-sexual v/o/r/e... But lucky for you! i have filed them them separately! and (when needed) Every story comes with detailed content warnings!]

For ALL mystic woods stories:

vo/re-scientist/tumblr.com/tagged/mystic+woods+story (take out the “/” in vo/re)

[one or two of my GT-ONLY stories are on my not so secret vo/re blog but from now on I’m posting the GT-ONLY ones here! hurray!]

#gianttiny #g/t writing #g/t talk #giant/tiny #g/t #male giant

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ranger-lcat · 5 years

Text

Cold Qrow

For @fairy-anon-godmother , who put this idea into the universe.

Qrow catches a cold when they first get to Atlas. Cause it’s cold and he is not dressed for the weather.

Edit - I wrote another part Edit - I wrote a third part

—

“I meant it when I said it was good to see you.”

“Uh… yeah… you too.” Qrow mumbles rubbing his neck.

Ironwood closed the few steps and pulled him into a hug. It took Qrow a moment for his brain to catch up and he rolled his eyes as he returned the gesture. The warmth and familiarity was welcome, even if the metal was extra hard. They pull away and stand there awkwardly for a moment. Qrow glanced over to where the kids had been prior. It appeared that they had wandered off, lead by the plucky red-head that had saved them earlier. Qrow could still hear her voice echoing down the hall.

“Is there a place for me to sleep tonight?”

“There is room in my quarters.” James offered.

“Lead the way.” Qrow waves his hand, gesturing for Ironwood to proceed.

They walk in silence, footsteps against the tiled floor unnaturally loud. The halls were probably less echoey when there were students. Ironwood’s personal quarters were at the top of one of the secondary towers. So there was another awkward elevator ride up.

*Achoo* Qrow sniffs.

“Bless you.” James, ever polite and proper.

“Someone must be talking about me.” He jokes. *Achoo* “Ugh, I bet it’s Winter…” he rubs his nose, trying to get rid of the itch that seemed to settle in it.

The elevator dinged as they arrived at the top. The apartment was clean, but gave off the feeling that it was more for show than anything. Qrow doubted James spent much time up here. Ironwood walked in first and went straight for the hall closet to pull a set of blankets out.

“Just let me set up the guest room for you.” He says entering one of the other rooms.

“Wait… set up?” He followed Ironwood into the room. There was a bare mattress and boxes filling the floor. It would take some time to have it up to ‘Atlas Standards’. “Woah. Woah. It’s too late to have to set up a room. I’ll be fine on the couch.”

“Are you sure?”

“Jimmy, I’ve slept on way worse during some of my missions. Just give me a blanket.” Ironwood extracted one of the sheets from his pile, leaving the rest on the bed for the next day.

“Let me at least find you something more comfortable to sleep in.” Ironwood offers, slipping past Qrow and into his own bedroom.

“Is anything you have gonna fit me?” Qrow leans into the doorframe.

“I’m sure something will work.” He walks over and hands Qrow a set of folded clothes. “Try these. Bathrooms to the right.”

Qrow nodded and took the clothes. The bathroom was clean, but at least it felt lived in. He peeled his gear off, shivering as his skin is exposed to the cold air, and tossing everything onto the hamper James had in the corner. He probably could due with a shower… tomorrow. Instead he put the clothes James had lent him on. Sweatpants and a t-shirt with Atlas Academy printed in them.

Qrow rolled his eyes, as much as he didn’t want to look like one of the students, his gear wasn’t comfortable to sleep in. He cinched the pants so they would stay up and debated just leaving it at that, sleeping shirtless. Of course that would put all his scars on display… he puts the shirt on.

James is waiting in his doorway when Qrow leaves. His uniform jacket was off, leaving just the shirt and pants.

“Are you sure the couch will be ok, it’s more designed for looks than comfort.”

“Yes, it will be fine.”

—

It was not fine. The couch was soft enough, his body just refused to let him rest. It felt like a haze had fallen over him, rather than sleep.

Too early he heard a faint beeping that was stopped and replaced with the sounds of Ironwood getting up and moving.

No use trying to sleep more so Qrow sits up, rubbing his face to try and remove the exhaustion. And the fuzziness. He sniffs. He was congested… great…

It sounded like Ironwood was doing something in the kitchen. Hopefully coffee, before walking into the living room, Qrow can see he’s already dressed in his uniform.

“Good morning.” James greats him. “Did you sleep well.”

“Fine.” Gods did he really sound that bad.

“Do you feel ok?”

“I’m fine.” The congestion making that statement unbelievable.

“You don’t sound, or look fine. Let me get a medic.” He pulls out his scroll.

“No. No medic. It’s just a cold. I’m fine.” Qrow waves his hand around. The only thing worse than being sick was doctors. He didn’t need someone to come and tell him to rest and drink fluids. Especially if he planned to ignore them. “I just need some coffee.”

“I don’t think coffee is gonna fix this, you should rest today.”

“And let the kids loose in Atlas? That seems like a great idea.” Qrow forces himself to stand. His balance feels off but he’s determined to get past James and get himself coffee.

“I’m sure Penny and the Ace Ops have them covered.” James doesn’t move as Qrow tries to push him out of the way. “And I’m sure they’d tell you the same thing once they noticed.”

“It’s just a cold. I don’t need rest.” Qrow shoves harder, actually getting enough space to walk between Ironwood and the couch. The problem is a few steps away the world tilts.

He has to blink a few times to realize the only reason he didn’t fall is Ironwood’s arms. He’s still really dizzy.

“Perhaps you should rest in a bed.”

“You’re not setting up that room for me now.”

“Of course not, mine is free.”

James could have very easily carried Qrow. Qrow knows it. But it was a point of pride that he still tried to walk, even if clinging to James’s robotic arm was the only way to keep from falling. The bed had been made already, but James pulls the coverers down for him.

“Always the gentleman.” Qrow mutters as he gets in. Ironwood leaves and returns, placing a glass of water on the nightstand.

“Is there anything you need?”

Stay. “Im fine.”

“Very well, I’ll be back in an hour.”

“What?” Qrow pushes himself up to look at Ironwood, “Don’t you have important meetings?”

“I can do most of it from here, and since you refuse to see a medic—“

“It’s just a cold!”

“And I want to make sure it doesn’t get any worse.” Ironwood straightened his tie. “Now drink your water and get some sleep. There are a couple of things that I need to handle in person. I’ll be back soon.” He closes the door as he leaves.

Qrow flops back into the bed. He can see the water set on the nightstand and he is kinda thirsty. Rolling over he drinks half and sets it back, or tries too. It ends up tipping off and falling on the ground.

“Shit…” the glass isn’t broken, just the water soaking into the carpet. He debates for a second before deciding he’s too dizzy and justs leaves it. Instead he buries himself in the covers.

---

Qrow wakes up with violent sneeze and a sniff. He groaned as the aches in his body made themselves known. Something cool rests on his forehead. His eyes fly open.

James is resting his metal hand on Qrows forehead, his thumb rubbing circles against his temple. The cool was nice and the gentle touch eased some tension. The natural hand was holding up the scroll displaying official looking documents as James lounged on the bed.

Qrow grumbled as the scroll buzzed and another message appeared on the screen. That was gonna get annoying.

“Are you feeling better?” Ironwood set his scroll into his lap. It buzzed again.

“Busy as ever I see.” Qrow nuzzles into the cool of the metal palm. James smiles softly.

“I thought you felt warm, so I turned the cooling up.”

“Useful.”

“Yes. Are you hungry? I brought back some stew for you.”

“Stew for breakfast huh?”

“Most important meal. It needs to be filling.”

“I could eat.”

James nods and puts his scroll down, leaving to presumably go to the kitchen. The scroll buzzed a few more times, rattling on the nightstand. Qrow glares at it. It was tempting to just throw it out the window, but it was unlikely the windows opened this high up. Instead he tried to grab it so he could turn it off. It slipped out of his hand and flopped onto the carpet. At least now it didn’t rattle when it vibrated.

“And stay there.” He huffed at it.

“Please don’t argue with my scroll, I tend to get more messages when I do.” James returns with a tray.

“Oh, he does remember how to be funny.” Qrow teases. He shuffles to sit up and accept the tray into his lap.

“Unfortunately, I’m not kidding.” He picks the scroll up and reads through the new messages. Sighing heavily and typing a response back.

“So what is this exactly.” Qrow stirred the stew around. Looked like pasta and meat.

“Goulash. It’s popular with the students from Mantel.”

“Alright then,” he takes a few bites. It was surprisingly flavorful. “Mmm. Spicy.” Qrow sniffs. His congestion was clearing and he could breathe again.

He practically inhaled the bowl. The heat of the spices filling his stomach. He was sad when it was gone, but he was full anyway. Comfort and warmth pulsing through his body.

James took the tray away, replacing it with a glass of water. Qrow wishes he had been given that first, the liquid dulled the heat in his core. When that was gone the dishes were taken away and James returned to his relaxed position on the bed, still trying to keep pace with the incoming mail. He’d silenced the notifications at least.

Qrow curled as close to Ironwood as he dared. Apparently not close enough, as he was pulled flush to James’s side, head now resting on his chest. Gentle hair stroking made Qrow relax.

He felt warm and safe.

#rwby #rwby7 #cold qrow #ironqrow #qrow branwen #james ironwood #hurt/comfort #it’s just a cold #fluff #mine #writing

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