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whumpdoyoumean · 4 months ago

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Whumptober #30

part 1 || part 2

xxx hospital bed

"Is he breathing? Oh, fuck, Louisa, is he--"

"Just shut up for a second! Let me...Oh, thank Christ. He's got a pulse, he's alive! Where the fuck is the ambulance?"

"They're coming. Now that they know the scene is clear and they aren't going to get blown up, they should be here any minute. You're sure he's alive? He looks--"

"He's alive, Shirley! Come help me untie him! Oh, god, River."

"Jesus, that's a lot of blood...I really don't think he's breathing."

"Shit. Help me get him out of this chair, we need to lay him down!"

"You know CPR?"

"Yes. Find out where that ambulance is, will you? ...Come on, don't do this to me, River. You do not get to do this. Come on."

xxx

Louisa jerks awake, heart hammering wildly for a second as she gets her bearings. And then she takes a deep breath, slumping down in her chair. Visitors aren't usually allowed in ICU for long periods like this, but Lamb had pulled strings. Officially, Louisa is there to provide security for River. The man who had landed him here won't actually be causing him any more trouble—Louisa had seen to that—but she still can't bear the thought of leaving River on his own. She remembers the feeling and the sound, the awful snap, of his ribs cracking beneath her hands and shudders.

He looks better now than he had when they found him, which is really saying something considering he looks like shit. There are dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks, scruffy and unshaven, look sunken in. But he's not so pale as he had been, and his lips aren't blue. That's something, at least.

A nurse comes in after a few minutes to check River's vitals and surgical incisions. She looks over at Louisa with a big smile when she gets done, and Louisa has to fight the urge to roll her eyes at the cheeriness that so obviously doesn't belong here.

"Everything looks great. I imagine it won't be too long now before Mr. Cartwright's moved out of ICU," she says, her voice just above a whisper. "Do you need anything?"

A year long vacation? New job? Friends that don't nearly get themselves killed every few months?

"No," Louisa says. "I'm fine."

"How's your hand feeling?"

Louisa looks down at the bulky splint on her right hand, then glances at River's leg before looking up at the nurse.

"Better than his leg is going to feel."

The nurse winces in sympathy. "He's got a long recovery ahead of him, that's for sure. But he's got good friends to help him along the way, so I'm sure he'll turn out alright."

"I'm his security," Louisa says, and the nurse nods, an exaggeratedly serious expression on her face.

"Of course, of course," she says, and winks before going to check on the next patient.

This time, Louisa does roll her eyes.

xxx

River hurts. That's the first thing he's aware of. There's a sharp pain in his gut, and a deeper, more intense ache in his leg. He groans. Everything else sort of filters in slowly – the sensation of oxygen tickling at his nose, the stingy itch of IV needles, the antiseptic smell of hospital, and a familiar voice saying his name.

"River, you awake?"

River grimaces and forces his eyes open. Louisa is leaning forward in a chair next to him, her left hand gripping his right one.

"My fucking leg," River rasps, his whole body tensing at the intensity of the pain. "Ow."

"Here," Louisa says, placing a small plastic remote into River's hand. "The doctor says you can press this when the pain gets bad. It's all calibrated so you can't get too high a dose."

River presses the button, face screwed up in pain. "I don't think it's--" And then, relief as the pain recedes to a dull background noise. He sinks back into the pillows with a small sigh. "Oh, that's better. Thank you."

He looks over at Louisa again and frowns. There's a bluey-purple bruise over her left eye and another at her jaw. "You okay?"

Louisa rolls her eyes and almost smiles. "You should see the other guy."

"I mean it."

"Yeah, well, so do I." Louisa lifts her right hand. Her pinkie and ring finger are splinted together in a clunky brace of some sort. There's a hint of pride when she says, "Boxer's fracture. Anyway, I should be asking you that question. Are you okay?"

"Better now that you showed me this." He waves the remote at her and this time she does smile, shaking her head.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it. It's just to tide you over until they can do surgery on that leg."

River hums in response. He's feeling a little strange, like things are a bit hazy at the edges. Soft. Probably it's whatever meds the magical button has pushed into his bloodstream. Even with the drugs, though, memories start to piece together – being hit in the crosswalk. Being tied to that chair. Being stabbed.

Just in case, I'm gonna stay awake as long as I can.

"You guys came," he says. The words feel...mushy, somehow, as he says them. He doesn't let that stop him. "You saved me. I don't remember...Was I awake?"

Louisa's smile falters, the corners of her mouth twitching, and she blinks rapidly, looking away from him. "Uh, no, River. You weren't."

"What happened?"

Louisa sighs, still not looking at him. "You almost died. It was a trap – which we knew, by the way, before you told us. There were explosives at the entrances of the building where they took you. If we'd opened either door, the whole place would've gone up. We had to call in a bomb disposal unit, while I knew that you were inside bleeding to de--" She cuts herself off and takes a deep breath, finally turning to face him. "But we got to you in time."

River has the vague impression that there's something else, something she's keeping back, but he doesn't press it.

"Well thanks...Whose face did you break your hand on?"

"Oh, this," Louisa says, lifting said hand at him. "His name was Gabriel Rakes. He's the one who stabbed you. It was Coe that figured out where he and the others were. He knew they'd want to see their plan unfold in person. Something about the theatricality of it, I think. Anyway, you don't have to worry about any of them. Assuming he wakes up, Rakes will be joining the others deep in the basement of Regent's Park."

River smiles at the idea of the people who'd done this being stuck in tiny cells for the rest of their lives.

"Good."

Sleep is starting to tug at his consciousness and he blinks heavily.

"You can go to sleep," Louisa says.

"I don't need to," River responds. When he blinks again, though, it turns out to be much easier to just keep his eyes closed and he drifts off anyway.

xxx to be continued...

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ldrfanatic · 11 months ago

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sitting in the corner i haunt

Theodore Nott x Reader "13" Series pt 4 warnings - depression, angst, blood, theo gets the dark mark, mentions of suicide, cursing

this chapter is written entirely from theo's point of view

to be added to the taglist, comment; Also I was gonna include so much more in this part but then I realized I was already at 2k words and it was long lol

ps sorry stinks but now that the series is starting to really pick up there's gonna be a lot more angst before reader and theo get their hea

translator series masterlist <previous chapter next chapter>

slytherin boys masterlist works

One thing Theo hadn't expected was for you not to forgive him. He'd figured you'd eventually find out about the bet, but he'd also noticed your crush on him a long long time ago. In all honesty, he'd been hoping and praying that you'd be able to forgive him and the pair of you could move past it.

Turns out those hopes and prayers were falling on empty ears.

He'd spent the remainder of the fall term secluded. At first, he tried to ignore Mattheo and Draco, still too mad at either of them for what they'd coerced him into. Finally he came to terms with the nature of his new relationship with you after what could have been was burned prematurely. Another thing Theo hadn't expected was for you to be the type that burned bridges instead of mending them.

Rather than feel his emotions, Theo had taken to drinking them lately. He tuned out of the various famous Slytherin parties and drank firewhiskey until it felt like his head was screwed on backwards. His groupies didn't stop chasing him, but he'd started hexing them in return.

Nothing serious just the occasional bat-bogey hex. And only at the ones that insulted you. Whether or not you wanted to be, you were still the girl that held his heart. And it was unacceptable for anyone to insult you. Mattheo and Draco had learned that fairly quickly following the incident.

As the Express chugged along the tracks and onto Platform 9 3/4, Theo tried to ignore the twisting in his stomach. Ever since his mother passed away in fourth year, his father had become an unbearable rotter. He knew that with the war looming, this break would be particularly unpleasant. As he retrieved his trunk from above his seat in the compartment, he didn't even bother with useless greetings to his friends. The children of Death Eaters were never cheery at the holidays. Everyone was returning to their own personal nightmare.

Theo used to feel bad for Mattheo's home situation. Used to. Until Mattheo really begun to live up to his father's reputation. Then all sympathy he had for the boy really flew out the window. Mattheo had been a perfectly fine bloke until Christmas of fifth year. When they'd returned in January, he was awful. No explanation, no more apologies. Just downright awful.

The moment his boot touched the platform, Theo apparated to his father's estate.

Nott Manor was in the most horrendous part of England. It was ALWAYS dark and cloudy. The sun was shining so bright at King's Cross, it was nearly headache worthy. But the moment Theo twisted down in front of the gates of his childhood home, the skies were dark, and the air was cold.

To Theo's surprise, Nott Sr was waiting at the door when he finally approached the massive structure.

"Theodore, my boy."

Theo was silent at his father pulled him into an awkward hug. He was being unusual cheery and it was rather unsettling.

"Father?"

If Nott Sr noticed Theo's tone at all, he ignored it. A large grin was spread across his face. It wasn't the kind that Theo had been accustomed to when his mother was alive. This one was creepy and made Theo's skeleton want to climb out of his skin.

"It's time, son. The Dark Lord will be rising soon, and he's calling for us to strengthen our ranks to prepare for the coming war. You'll be getting your mark soon Theodore. Finally."

Fuck.

Thunder rumbled in the sky overhead and Theo jostled awake. He hadn't sat with his friends on the ride back. With the burning in his arm and the screams of whatever poor bastard his father was torturing in the house, he'd barely gotten any sleep over the break. In fact, the burning hadn't stopped. His body was apparently just as unfond of the mark as his heart was.

What he hadn't expected was to see you. Sitting across from him in the compartment, reading a book. Your eyebrows were furrowed and you seemed pretty zoned in to the novel. Theo cleared his throat lightly and immediately regretted it as it sent him into a coughing fit.

You passed him a flask that you had. Theo accepted it with a quick thanks and drank, the cool water soothing his apparently irritated throat. "Not that I'm complaining cuore, but what are you doing here?" He tried to appear cool and calm but inside he was freaking out. How long had you been sitting there? What if you accidentally saw his mark?

If you had seen it, you made no indication. In fact, you didn't even look up from your book.

"I was just walking past and saw your compartment was empty. Astoria has taken a fancy to my dear awful cousin Draco and wanted to sit with him and that repulsive boy Mattheo. I'd much rather not for obvious reasons."

Even though you came from a pureblood family, you'd never taken a shine to that blood purity crap. It was something that Theo and you had in common. Something that he admired about you. Despite constant pressures from your other, darker side of your extended family, the Malfoys.

Finally, your eyes made contact with Theo's and he felt his breath leave his lungs. He could no longer hear the soft chugging of the train. He couldn't even feel the damn thing moving. Every sense in his body was tuned into you. Your voice still lingered in his ears even when you weren't speaking. His eyes feasted on every inch of you that they could catch. Your scent filled his nose and intoxicated his brain.

"I do miss you, Theo."

"I miss you too, cuore. I know that we were never really friends before, but the truth is, I'd gotten used to your presence. Without you..."

Theo didn't finish his sentence and you didn't ask him to. After you'd finished your chapter, you closed the book and set it on the cushion next to you.

"How was your break?"

Theo stared at you thoughtfully. He hadn't wanted to talk to anyone about his break, hence why he'd been avoiding his friends. At the same time, he'd take any excuse to talk to you. And with his father's words, he'd feared this was his last chance to really converse with you before you positively despised him.

"It was... uneventful."

You stared at him with a look that told him you knew he was lying. Disappointment flashed in your eyes briefly and felt like a knife in his gut.

"We both know that's not true. Draco was boasting about your entire little friend group finally getting their gifts from you-know-who." You shifted in your seat and then leaned forward. The look on your face was so intense, Theo felt that if he looked away, he'd simply burst into flames and die. "But even if Draco hadn't said anything to me, I've had a crush on you for almost as long as I've been alive Theodore Nott. I can tell when you're lying. Especially when you're lying to me."

Theo felt rage building up inside of him. How dare you patronize him like this? You had no right to judge him. You couldn't possibly understand what he was going through. "Whatever. You don't know me, Y/n." He sneered at you. In his heart, Theo was screaming at himself to stop. But even as he saw tears gathering in your eyes, he locked that part of him away. You'd shown him that Theo couldn't afford to be vulnerable. "You've no right to judge me. Following me around for years like some little fangirl. You've no idea what it's like when your father and uncle hold you down while you kick and scream and beg for them to stop. To let you go. To get away from a true monster while he carves his mark into your flesh."

Your face morphed into one of shock.

"What?"

Theo scoffed at your empty question.

"What? That dear cousin of yours forgot to mention the excruciating pain? That he was there with my father and uncle and helped them hold me down so Voldemort could brand me like cattle?"

His questions were rhetorical but it didn't matter. He stood from his seat across from you and exited the compartment at the mark on his arm started to burn. It was time Theodore Nott learned. Feelings were and always would be a weakness.

By the time the middle of the second term rolled around, Theo had come to terms with the dynamics of his feelings for you. He'd learned to push them down and away, and he'd grown accustomed to doing so. Instead, he focused on the task given to him by his father to prep Hogwarts for the Dark Lord to take over. You could still get to him in his dreams and he often awoke with nightmares. You'd appeared to him many times and spewed various levels of nonsense. How you'd never forgive him for this and the like. Usually they ended with Theo consuming enough firewhiskey to put down a horse and then falling into a drunken slumber only to wake up the next day with a hangover from hell.

This continued for a few weeks longer until finally, Pansy Parkinson had enough of his shit. She'd never been a best friend of yours or Theo's, but as a close friend of Draco's she heard constantly about the depression the pair of you had fallen into without one another. She'd figured that she'd have an easier time getting through to Theo than you most likely.

And there she sat. Across the Slytherin Common Room from Theo fixing him with a stare that would make even Nott Sr. rethink his life choices. If monsters were capable of that sort of thing.

"What the hell is wrong with you Theodore?"

"What do you want Parkinson?"

Pansy sighed frustratedly and whacked Theo with her potions textbook before resuming her homework as though she hadn't just left him with a fresh bruise. "I want you to stop being such an idiot. What happened to winning Y/n over?"

"It wasn't working out. Found a new hobby."

"What? Cohorting with the likes of Mattheo Riddle and serving as the Dark Lord's newest little bitch?" Theo glared back at the girl but she continued undeterred. "Besides, if it wasn't working then how come she was in your compartment on the train? That is until you lost your shit on her like a rabid animal."

"She doesn't understand. She never will. Not my fault and certainly not my problem."

"What she understands, Theo, is that she loves you. She always has. And now that she's finally coming back to that, you've gone back to being the insufferable twat that you always are."

Theo lit another cigarette. Pansy eyes rolled so far back Theo thought they might actually get caught at the back of her head.

"She took too long to get there. I've moved on from her."

"Moved on so much that you drink just to sleep and smoke a pack of those disgusting things a day? Moved on so much that when you think no one's looking in potions, you stare at her like she's the only girl in this whole school? Why is it that she waited years for you, and you can't even last a few weeks?"

Theo sat forward and stomped his cigarette out on the cold stone floor. He'd officially had enough of whatever little intervention Pansy thought she was throwing. "Listen Parkinson. This isn't really any of your concern. My feelings for Y/n are a weakness. She's better off without me anyhow."

"Your feelings for her are not a weakness. They are the strength that one day will be the reason you wake up from whatever spell you let your father put you under. You fucked up, and it sucks. But now it's time to grow a pair, and fix it. Or don't. Suffer for all I care but please, if you're gonna die, do it quietly."

Pansy shut her potions textbook and stood from her seat. She marched silently up to the girls dorms. But by the time she'd made it halfway up the stairs, Theo was already gone.

wc 2059

3.31.2024

-- taglist - @moonlightreader649

#slytherin boys #slytherin #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #spotify #slytherin boys x reader #Spotify

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namelessprayers · 2 months ago

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"i can't be here, sua. i can't be around you." mizi told sua, the words cold and distant. she seemed sure, solemn and determined.

"what? what do you mean?" asked sua, struggling through the mere concept of mizi not being able to stand her. "we've had it good. i- i came back for you. i promise that i'll stay for you too. i-"

"we don't have the time, sua." mizi cut in, which was unusual, not something she'd ever do according to all of sua's memories of them. "i don't think i should be here... because..."

"i'll go with you then."

"what?"

"if you can't be here, then i'll follow you somewhere else. we can go wherever, mizi." just don't leave me behind, sua stopped herself from tagging on. "where? you don't even have to tell me why."

for some reason, an expression of horror adorned mizi's usually cheery face. in place of her beaming smile, there was a taut grimace, making something rotten pool in the depths of sua's guts. she hated this. she couldn't comprehend this.

"is it the nightmares? are they getting worse? we can-"

"they're not nightmares, sua, they're real. in another universe- i... they're not nightmares."

what scared sua most was that she knew, somehow, that mizi was telling the truth.

"then please," sua begged, "please pretend."

"pretend what? we don't have time." mizi's voice hardened, uncharacteristically, but it made sense for all that had happened. "we don't get anything other than this reality. this is real sua, the fact that you especially, don't have time."

"then pretend i do." almost automatically, sua's hand wrapped itself around mizi's wrist, which stayed pliant and limp. with a look of resigned melancholy, mizi stared at their joined limbs, sighing as sua continued. "pretend that we can live forever, that i'll never die."

"why would i do that?" mizi said, finally wrenching her arm away, tearful at her own statement and actions. "why would i do that when the truth was always there and you just never said it? i don't want to do that anymore. i can't do that anymore."

"it doesn't have to be bad." sua replied desperately, changing tactics. "this place is different. it could be better this time."

"and what will you do when it gets bad? will you have us pretend until the reality sweeps you away and i can't do anything? will you leave me alone again?"

"mizi-"

"you don't get it." tone sharp, sua could feel her face get red at being interrupted whilst mizi's jaw and fist were clenching, seething.

"-i just wanted to protect you. because, i love you." quietly continued sua. the truth, vulnerable and stilling. it was delicate, like the mizi before this one, before the reality kicked in.

"i love you too." mizi exhaled after a moment of silence. "but, it hurts. only sometimes. but now, it hurts, a lot."

"it's not supposed to hurt you."

sua thinks about this all the time. she thinks about the way mizi looked at her as it happened. she thinks about how she watched the anger and sorrow boiling on the surface of mizi's gentle features. she thinks about how to make it better. she thinks about the time, about how it might've been inevitable. sua thinks until the words 'i love you' are as pretend as the implied freedom of a bright blue sky.

she sees the reality stare back at this version of herself and feels mizi's tears run down her cheeks before it turns into blood as red as her beating heart. sua asks mizi how she's delved into her arteries and managed to fix the blood loss but not the brain.

"but it does."

mizi said, simply and curtly, without a trace of stray sympathy or turmoil. because sua had hurt her, and nothing would ever be the same. because sua never wanted to hurt her, and that didn't change anything.

because a love built on a pretend pretense never stood a chance against the weight of reality.

#alien stage #alienstage #alnst #alien stage sua #alnst sua #alien stage mizi #alnst mizi #relationship study #mizisua #love #in another universe #doomed yuri #fated (cursed) love #grieving #my god my universe as forsaken devotion #prose #writing

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freeluigihesbae · 21 days ago

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𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓮𝓬𝓭𝓸𝓬𝓱𝓮 - 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 1

fic summary:

the synecdoche is the agency we've seen in the movies. it's an agency that's real.

the reader is arya nitwa, code named riposte, who is a cold and calculated, terribly vulnerable but expert eccidetniest for her own good. she's a top ranking agent with her own team

luigi mangione, code named kismet, is cheery and clever, making his own marks in the agency after he loses the things that meant the most to him and hiding a pool of wounds beneath his smile.

arya and luigi cross paths for a new mission, where arya is forced to trust luigi while he is forced to heal. what happens when a forbidden love and a complex tangle of emotions comes to lie before their eyes?

chapter summary: who is arya? who is luigi? and why are they...them?

𝗍𝗐: 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁, 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗁𝗂𝖼 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽, 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗎𝗅𝗍, 𝖼𝗈𝖾𝗋𝖼𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅/𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗌𝖾

The Synecdoche.

Nobody knows why they went with an almost namesake title to 'syndicate.' It would've been obvious about what they were doing, but it was smart since clarity was exactly what they hid from the public. Call it the goal of the agency. Anything they did had to stay quiet. Hidden. Under the wraps. Floating around in the dark corners and silent, stilled places of the world where no-one would dare to touch. People fail to look in the places where it would be the easiest, because sometimes, these areas demand a bravery and risk not worth taking.

At the top was the Synecdoche themself, but no-one knew who it was. Some rumors had it that it was a senior agent who was quietly plucked from the thousands and never heard from again amongst the common agents. The Synecdoche's commands were heard through mission papers or messages in agents' pagers, but no matter what, the face, body, and voice always remained hidden. Curiosity intrigued every single agent but they all knew it was best to leave it as a question.

It would only makes sense because the motto was rules are meant to be followed.

That meant any mission you were given, you take it. If you weren't in a place to take the mission, you shape yourself by force and fury until you were. After all, if you failed, the agency disposed of you, leaving your body at the scene to be nagged or violated by any means as the people or the nature around it decided. Your main goal was to survive, and to survive, you had to bend and deliver to the will and worries of the Synecdoche.

Survival of the fittest was the only screening done, implemented through the use of ruthless but simulated situation in which sometimes, entrants lost their lives. Some would say they come to die in nobility. Most came for a real shot. But, it's what they signed up for when the chose to try and get in: a significant risk. Was it really worth it? They aren't around anymore to tell... are they now? And those who are still alive say it is worth it. Biased sample, you could say. One side cannot speak for another, at least until coming back from the dead is made possible.

I digress.

Now you may ask the question: if people are willing to lose their lives just to get into the Synecdoche, what have they already lost? The answer is quite a bit and if everyone's qualifications were typed onto a resume, you would think the prerequisite is some form of death, blood, or coercion that has fucked, twisted, and contaminated the minds of the agents who join. When you walk around, you know the person next to you has got a past so fucked up you can't even vomit at the combination of words coming out of their mouth.

Why? Why, because you have got your own fucked up story to tell. Responses are always laughs or straight faces. Sympathy will be concealed because you never ever want to become an emotional, attached being. You want to stay concealed, which is part of the reason why agents have code names.

The story is no different with Arya Nitwa, code named Riposte, the 22 year-old agent who is a top-ranking agent among the thousands part of the Synecdoche. She's cold and isolated but she will fit right into the landscape you ask her to complete a task in. She'll take on any semblance whether it involves selling her soul or operating under her dignity. She'll do it all and she will come out as the winner. The question of 'will you win?' is no longer valid, then, as everyone knows now to ask 'when will you win?' She can't answer about when until she does.

But she will.

"Arya, come down at once." Ishita, Arya's mother, calls her with a stern, empty voice.

16-year old Arya descends down the steps, concealing any hatred or spite she holds for her mother. She knows what is coming: the insults, the slaps, the venom that her mother will spew all because Arya is the youngest and a woman.

Hypocritical? Yes. But in Arya's house? Correction. In Arya's place of stay, she was unwelcome the moment she could start remembering the events her eyes observed. Her earliest memory was when she was three, watching her family eat dinner with their best friends, cooing at their daughter while she was thrown to the side, being handled like a burden by the maids who were barely getting paid enough. Every other girl in the world was good enough to be a daughter except for their own. They wanted four sons and instead, they got a-a-a...

girl. Laughable, their hatred.

Arya. Her name means noble. Hence, you'd think her life would be similar too. Spoiler: it was not.

"Yes ma'am?" Arya spoke softly, keeping her head down while addressing her mother. Being seen as a subordinate meant she was strictly forbidden from acknowledging the fact that the two most important elders in her household were those who created her.

Ishita takes a reckless gander at her daughter.

"It is quite surprising to me that you look even the least bit presentable. Don't get your hopes up, I was much more beautiful at your age. Pitiable thing you are. I know you will eat my compliments like the dog you are." Ishita cackles while adjusting a strand of hair and placing it behind Arya's ear. Arya keeps her head down, absorbing the words which make less than a dent in the stone that has so pliably hardened itself around her conscience.

Arya is silent.

"Anyways, we are arranging for a meeting with a family friend whose business can bring us in millions. It's the deal of a lifetime that your father and I will be cashing in on. Get ready and make yourself look presentable. Two hours. If you are unable to do so, just think about me and feel ashamed. Perhaps that will motivate you to alter that horrid body of yours." Ishita walks back, ripping out the strands of hair she had so delicately placed behind her daughter's ears.

Arya's head only bends further down with the force of her mother's pull, but it returns to its place with grace as she ignores the drops of blood that descend the side of her face. She hears a chuckle from the corner that is deep and gruff, which is none other than her father's. Listening quietly, she hears a glass being placed down.

Aadesh. Her father. The creator and leader of his own business empire, running hundreds of casinos and luxury hotels where top-of-the-line celebrities stayed. He was a grueling, commanding man who fought his way with weapons, wit, and wary judgement as all criminals do. Say, you didn't think he made his way to the top with integrity, did you? Of course not.

"She'd look better without hair perhaps." Her father says from the corner, erupting into laughter with a very unmanly snort.

The blood is now dripping on her shoulder and down onto the floor, but Arya stays silent. She's truly only counting the seconds and minutes that have passed by, eager to return to her room so that her time won't be wasted any longer.

"Perhaps, but the world does not agree. We walk by the way of the world, dear." Ishita sweetly states her philosophy before walking over to her husband as they share a kiss. Internally, Arya feels herself cringe for a fleeting second before her mother walks back to her daughter.

"Dismissed, slut." Ishita whispers into her daughter's ear like it's a poison only meant for her ears. Arya simply turns back around and walks herself back up the steps, opening the door into her room and closing it when she can make it inside. Arya lifts her head back up, letting out a small sigh before walking over to place a tissue on her forehead. She takes her watch and places a timer to get herself ready for the pretentious meeting that her family held just about every week to expand an empire whose money would do nothing other than sit around and leech from the common people. Parents' orders, or better, guardians' orders, right?

She sets a timer for one hour. Despite the jabs and comments meant to bite and twist at her skin, Arya maintains her habits meticulously. It's part of what has helped her withstand the abuse she receives. She does everything right so that she knows no matter what any of her so-called family does, they will be wrong and she will win. She looks up into her ornately decorated mirror, questioning why her room had to be so opulent if they insisted on her being a low-life. No matter to her. She stayed to survive and get out as soon as possible.

Arya removes a piece of skin tape and places it atop the wound where her mother has just pulled out the hair from. Her mother has managed to be a fuck-up since Arya knew she existed, but if there is anything she'd done right, it was passing on the genetic ability to grow her hair back in a simply unbelievable amount of time. The sting from placing the tape hurt a bit less knowing it would be healed before she could blink an eye.

Her fingers softly thread through her hair, pushing the strands to the side where her mother had pulled. She goes for an unevenly distributed hairstyle to cover for the injury, but parts and tucks the hair just above her ear with a hair pin beautifully arranged with diamonds. The hairpin itself is made with pure gold, with the diamonds painting a picture of a phoenix. It's a picture that needs no color or fiery red to demonstrate a foreboding in and of itself, one that Arya believes represents her inner being. The last time she wore it, her father punched her so hard in the stomach she gagged and spewed blood, all because her mother was afraid it represented a rebellion. Ishita hadn't taken it away as Ishita's mother herself gifted it to Arya, promising hell would rain down on those who tried to separate the string of fate she drew between the pin and her granddaughter. Shortly before her passing, Arya remembers her grandmothers' words:

Rules are only rules until you decide to break them. Follow wisely.

Her dress is simple. Black like her hair, but it has long sleeves and a high turtleneck make towards the top. It dutifully admires her hourglass figure, clinging onto her body until it reaches the bottom and opens up: mermaid. It's a mermaid-style dress that she has never worn like many of the dresses in her wardrobe. What good is a slave without the appropriate attire? Arya picks up the body glitter from her drawer in her vanity, spraying it all over herself until the light directs itself, allowing her figure to not only be highlighted but also shimmer underneath any light: spotlight or the moonlight alike. Her lips are painted with a grape lipstick, paired with a brunette lip pencil. She smudges her lips together, which are perfectly moist and plush for just the duration this meeting lasts, until she's back in her room, wiping her mask away before living in her misery to which she is perfectly and passionately numb. The kajal lines her eyelids and inner eye perfectly. Arya is looking sharp, modest, and fierce. Her fierceness is the highlight of any outfit she is asked to wear, despite it being the one quality the people in the household she resides with hate to see. They hate to see a fire in a body that should be dead. She desires to live in the nuances, then, if the former is simply not a choice.

Lastly, her shoes are wedges. She'd kill anyone in the house to wear pumps, but to her luck and misfortune both, she comes in at a damning 5'8". Arya knows it's what they hate to see: tall, beautiful, and unmoved. They'll never a get a reaction out of her.

That's why she always gets a reaction out of them.

Putting the last of her makeup back into her vanity, she smooth her hands across her figure, feeling a twinge of pride in how she's managed to keep herself in pristine shape despite whatever goes on. She will always be her own admirer, no matter what her said parents dare to say. She is only a mix of their features, not of their irreversible souls.

She's ready. She struts to the door, her expression having remained neutral this entire time. Arya feels everything, but she never lets it show. Not happiness. Not pain. Tears are simply out of question. Over the years terror she's experienced in her parents' hands, Arya knows that tear? They are physically impossible for her, because they have simply been drained out and her emotions have wrung dry.

She thinks this is good because it saves her time. She can use the time meant for crying to simply build her walls up higher and ignore the pain better than her biological endorphins ever could.

No-one in the house is ready yet, obviously because she set a timer for an hour and of course, she won. She got herself ready like the prettiest doll in the storefront for this meeting. Well, in her mind. She needs the approval of her dearest mother. Sure, her mother pulled her hair, but mostly, Arya looks forward to this. She loves watching her mother's face contort into disgust every time her eyes are blessed with Arya's impeccable sense of luxury that wraps around her body without fail. The more her mother's face scrunches up and worsens the already disgustingly pitiable features of hers, the better Arya feels. That is an indication she succeeded.

She descends the steps, paying little attention to how her slender fingers slide down the banister as company. As soon as she reaches the last step, a hand comes to rest on her shoulder.

"Head up. You may look at your mother." Ishita puts a finger under Arya's chin, propping the young woman's face to look into her mother's.

"You look delightful. Do you know that?" Arya tries, but she cannot stop her jaw from flexing. This was the first time in her life that her mother had complimented her. Ever. For just a moment, she thinks that something has changed. Something in the way she has dressed and presented herself has made her mother believe she is acutely worthy of respect. That spark is diminished - killed, even - before she can indulge because Arya chooses to rip it of its life. She knows her mother inside out, even better than her mother knows herself. This is all a transaction because her mother has something in it for herself, she doesn't know what it is right now.

"Thank you, ma-" "Call me mother." Her mother smiles into Arya's eyes, trailing her wrinkled but painfully rich fingers over her daughter's face. Arya's eyes remain moderately open. Her skin does not respond to the touch, only boring her eyes into her mother's awaiting any request or demand she knows will fall from those wretched lips at some point.

"Thank you mother." Arya speaks with no inflections, opting to maintain a smooth, even tone in her voice before her mother's hand glides to her back, guiding her to the leather couches in their living room. Arya hates these couches and adjacent love seats with every cell of her being because they are true leather rather than faux. They were customized, she remembers, on a certain birthday of her mother's who wanted to watch the animals being murdered and skinned alive, absolutely drunk in the sadistic high of knowing another life's weakness was about to become a comfort to sit her arrogant, egotistical body on.

But here she was, sitting down on the same skins because the universe had provided her the misfortune of being born into this family.

"Sit right here darling. I'm going to call your father and brothers." Ishita is ecstatic, indicated by the very slight curve of her lips and running of her hands over each other. It's the most she can express physically, but Arya can see her eyes without looking into them. Those eyes glimmer with a sick, deeply ill satisfaction of seeing a mask that is so perfectly contoured that it's akin to a mind-bending orgasm that she wishes her mother would twitch and squirm until she died for.

Footsteps slowly make their way into their room, as Arya is looking straight ahead. She blinks, not moving her head down when her father sits himself directly across from her or when her brothers sit on the second couch on her right. All four stare at her, cocking their heads with a freedom Arya never had.

Aadesh, her father, inspects her. This is the least favorite part of hers, having to display herself as though she's a doll. There's a certain boundary of Arya's that's crossed every time she does this, because it's like she's being sold in a market and all that counts is her ability to shut and stay quiet. So she does, noting that being sold is perhaps not a distant dream of her parents'. She is a virgin after all.

"Why is so much of her covered up?" Aadesh sneers. Arya's patience slashes into half as she remains staring into his eyes. He dared to insult the very modesty that kept her sane. Afloat. He was tearing that away and he had so much the audacity to call himself her father. Was this something a father would say?

"Oh dear. She's perfectly fine. Her chest is beautifully showing itself and her stomach is just," her mother trails off, using her hands to draw two sufficiently concave lines to imitate Arya's figure.

"It's just perfect. God, she reminds me of myself." Ishita's eyes are eating Arya up, trying to drink the youth she so inevitably exuberates.

"She's young, fertile, and ready to be fucked. I don't know why you called us down for this." Arya's eldest brother, Vinny, snickers while throwing his hand against the middle brother, Ray's, chest. Ray nods in agreement, turning to look at their mother. "You boys ought to speak a bit more modestly of your sister." Ishita says it so sweetly before bending down to give all three of her brothers a kiss. Arya successfully stop her self from snorting because that irritatingly misplaced kiss, if anything, would probably egg her brothers to say something a bit worse. Arya can feel her willpower shaking. It's humiliating to be spoken of like a prostitute, like she's paper that can be torn apart and left for nothing. It should be unsurprising to her since all her mother calls her are the diabolically long list of synonyms to a prostitute including the holy word itself.

But there is one person who doesn't speak.

Reyaansh. The youngest of her three brothers. He's still a domineering eight years older than Arya, but she and him are the closest. Yet, they dare never show it. She can recall every single moment where her mother, father, and two brothers beat her, spit at her, insult her to attempt and minimize her world into nothing but a black hole. Through all of it, Reyaansh is standing right there. Unmoved and calm like this is just another part of the treatment she deserves. Upon questioning by their mother as to why he wouldn't join on the fun of placing his hands and torment his sister too, he would simply smirk while staring directly into Arya's eyes giving the same answer everything: "She doesn't deserve to have my hands on her." Ishita would always laugh and give a kiss while her father patted him on the back, speaking a "you are good at identifying those worthy of your time" to which their mother would respond with an "I'm so proud of you." But Arya knew exactly what he was saying: she didn't deserve anyone's hands.

As soon as the room clears, though, and she's trying to lift herself off of the ground, it's him who picks her up and takes her along the flight of stairs, delicately placing her in her bed before he whispers impossibly low.

"Chotu, do not let them touch you." He holds her head while he says this. At first listen, one may think it's stupid and empty. They already have touched her. They have put her hands every where but the parts that would constitute as sexual assault only to avoid a terribly guilty conscience, but she knows exactly what he means. He means her, the essence of her being. The soul in which her body resides. It must remain pure and untouched. Untouched. Not even a speck of dust must remain or dare to fall for rest on that soul. "Your soul is a right and privilege you must live fully." He says that to Arya all the time, wiping away the blood and putting ice on the bruises that bloom across her body.

She doesn't say much other than a mere "thank you bhai." He always replies with an "I love you too Arya." And they leave it at that. But those small interactions are what wrap around the foundations that fuels her vigor to rebel in the most subtle ways possible.

He was her family. She understood his limitations too. She took the pain knowing Reyaansh would be there to at least try and soothe it. Maybe even scare it away.

Reyaansh eyes Arya with no emotion. He sees her as his sister, his baby sister.

"I need to make a call. Ishita, get the kitchen ready. Boys, come with me." Aadesh gets up, leaving the room with his phone. His shoes are waxed until they have no choice but to shine, clicking away at a rare but rich wooden floor as her brothers' footsteps follow. Arya's eyes remain on the chair where her father's head previously was. She is still.

Reyaansh gets up to walk with her father and brothers, but before doing so, he bends down in front of Arya. She still looks straight ahead, as though no stimulation could shake her.

"Look at me chotu." Arya bends her head down. Her brother's eyes are soft, a beautiful brown staring back at her with love so abundant she might crack and drop a singular tear from her drained eyes.

Arya gives a quiet hum, tilting her head slightly to look back him.

"Listen carefully. Father has set you up to be married off to his client's son. When you hear the glass shatter you run with everything you have left in you. Tear the dress, ditch the shoes. I don't care. Whatever you do," Reyaansh pauses upon hearing Aadesh yell his name. Ishita is busy far down the hallway, humming away in the kitchen.

He clasps her hand into his and leaves a kiss. It's warm and it blooms something...happy across the arm which he kissed.

"Run and never look back, prakhar." Prakhar is a boy's name, but he always used it for Arya because he could see the brilliance and strength in his little sister's eyes. He states this with a whisper. His eyes have tears ready to fall before tilts his head back, letting his body swallow them back up to drown back into the corner from which they came. He lifts himself up which prompts Arya to do so too, but Reyaansh is already walking away. Arya stares with her eyes wide which he is unable to see but clearly, he feels her worry as Reyaansh's hand morphs into just his index finger. He is still walking himself down the hallway, back towards Arya, but in a few successive motions of his finger...

He points it at himself. I.

He throws his hand open and closes it with force. Will.

Two fingers stretch out and point at his head, presumably his eyes. Find.

The same hand and pointed fingers twists back with ease toward a still and frozen Arya. You.

I will find you.

Arya quickly sits back down as she smooths the dress from her lower back down to the backside of her thighs quietly saying the words "I love you bhai" which she hopes remain hanging in the air by the time she's gone. Perhaps, Reyaansh will walk right past her seat where she spoke, and let her unseen voice enter his head and swirl his thoughts so that he never, ever forgets how much she loves him and how much she knew he loves her too.

"Sweet one." Lips come to embrace the soft skin of Luigi's forehead. He's oversleeping again since he's on break from university and working two degrees for the sake of his satisfaction has done it's due diligence in convincing his psyche that a break is well deserved. His mother's voice lifts him up gracefully from his dream as he slowly opens his eyes and cracks a smile.

"Mother." He simply states, chanting her name just once that makes his heartbeat quicken. She was his everything, as was everybody in his family too. Each and every person he loved was their own type of gem, reflecting starkly different yet breathtaking colors when placed under the light which they so deserved to have shining upon them.

"I know you're tired, but there's something we need you downstairs for. Please get yourself ready. Breakfast is on the table beside you. Hurry if you can." His mother's voice stays steady, the kindness sounding like music as he lifts himself off the pillow and places his feet on the ground where his mother's feet stood seconds ago. There is a light warmth from the weight of her body that she placed, lingering so that he could feel it before he started his tread along the expanse of his room. The scent of fresh food invited itself into his nostrils.

His mother never asked him to wake-up for something important because he was never needed. That was simply how it worked. Important things were usually handled by his parents: business, deals, problems...you get the point. He used to spend time alone, lost in his thoughts, before he felt like walking over and resting his head on his mom's shoulder, taking in and releasing some hearty laughs with the rest of his family which created a permeating joy that was unlike any other. His dad would crack horrible jokes which made every one laugh while his sister did incredible impression of anything and anyone. He thinks about his family, smiling and wondering how he was ever so blessed to be in this place.

However time was a-running and anything his mother wished of him, he would comply and give with both hands on both knees.

Mother knows best. Mother asked of him haste.

Haste and respect he shall deliver.

He finishes his routine compiled of the basics before downing the breakfast that fills a hunger he only knew existed after he woke up, which is truly a blessing else every being on this planet would have insomnia, yes? He throws his head back to gulp the water in the glass beside his plate, letting out a refreshed 'aha' before wearing his best white shirt, buttoned up to highlight his buff, yet toned figure. He stuffs it into the waistband of his formal pants, perfectly enough until he looks like a gentleman, ready to run business and deliver on whatever was asked of him. The belt was a finishing touch and he looked at himself in the mirror with pride and nodded his head. He looked like the perfect son. His freshly waxed heels pat the floor as he makes his way out the door and down the stairs, cupping the banister lazily before putting his foot on the marble floors that his parents curated from all over the world. They were seamlessly merged to make an onlooker believe that it was simply one piece destined to fill and grace every corner of the house he resided in.

He turns his head.

"Mother?" He yells, expecting her voice to erupt and find him with a kiss and hug. He hears nothing so he walks over and looks into each room, frustrated this rare time that a house just had to have so many places one could hide when it truly wasn't necessary. If you hide in a home, is it that even a home anymore? He chuckles to himself, finding his effervescent philosophy monologue to be entertaining in the face of adversity of finding his mother in his abhorrently large mansion. He hated mansions and large houses, finding himself drawing a mere square and three windows as a kid, while everyone else drew exactly what he had now.

Luigi was pragmatic but since he was given riches in the form of sight, touch, and use, he became prudent and masterful in getting what he wanted. With a little, he gained a lot.

"Dad? Lillian?" He calls out for his dad and sister, who similarly, don't respond. He's jogged a full lap around the floor unto which he descended from the spiral staircase, so where could they possibly be?

Luigi knew this just had to be a surprise. His birthday was coming in just two so whatever this was, it was going to change and probably make his day. He walks back to the bottom of the staircase where he first started his search, letting out a gleeful laugh.

"I'll find your surprise familia you couldn't possibly be so childish." He opens the door to another staircase that leads to the lounge room in the lower floor of his house. A new car perhaps? But he already has so many that he has repeatedly refused to drive because they lose value just the same as a Honda or Nissan would. What a waste, he would often think to himself. You might as well buy the cheaper brands for the commonly cheap drive. Nothing was as rich as the price tag people hurriedly placed on things for the sake of their profit.

He once again descends the stairs, enjoying the scent of infused bourbon his family kept stored. It was another long, ridiculously trek-like journey down and down into the extravagant relaxation room where his father often held success parties for the newest score against insurance companies that denied their retirement home seniors' care, laughing heartily that he was standing on the side of good no matter what happened.

He rolls his eyes trying to prepare himself for the jump scare his family probably very originally planned out before realizing the scent he always loves and associates the lounge with is gone. That's strange, since the bottles are always full and if not, are full after being replaced in the elegantly carved wooden storage pieces arranged to nest the glass bottles so carefully. You'd have to drown the floor in bleach to blanket that scent. Luigi continued down, eyebrows furrowed until he gulps.

The scent was no longer a scent, but an odor now. An odor so unpleasant that he wanted to turn back around and walk up the stairs, hoping his family had morphed themselves into the ceiling which he would never think to look up and check. He almost does listen to that desire before he sees red.

Red?

Yes, red. But not any. Blood red. Luigi feels his pulse in his eyes before he takes the step on the spiraling staircase which pivots into the a full view of the lounge room and to his absolute horror, there his mother is.

But she's dead. Dead to the point the blood is telling. It's coming from unforeseen places, ones he never wished to see. His father and sister were sprawled on the floor, drowning in the same bodily fluid. Everything else on the floor was absolutely, impeccably clean. Just the carpet where the bodies where. Of course, not any bodies. Their bodies. His bodies. Luigi's loves. Luigi's gems.

Luigi looked at them, shaking and falling to his knees before crawling over to his mother. Her eyes were still half open but he knew calling her name wouldn't mean they open again. Neither his father's or sister's and it was haunting. He turns his mother's arm to see someone had carved a word into her skin: deny. He shakes, unable to believe this was happening. He drops the arm before sobbing and grabbing his father's: defend. His breath gets caught in his throat as he was certain he would die of heartbreak from this sight alone. He turns to his sister, shaking his head even though he knew none of them would come back to life. He crawls, letting his pants soak in the blood that was still spreading across the carpet. He picks up her arm, too, with impossible care before seeing the last word: depose. Luigi was seeing pieces of himself dead, lifelessly on the ground. He started to feel it then, that there was an evil foreboding and pervading, that slowly started to choke around his neck. A shadow trying to pull him into the death that was crafted and cruelly painted in tangible means before him. Was it simply a figment of his imagination or was his world really going black?

if you would like to be added to my taglist, please comment on my PINNED BLOG POST, not under any other posts

this is a fic that will be eventual smut, but it's long and it's worth it!

@poohkie90 @madkohi

#luigi mangione #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione fic #luigi mangione smut #angelluigiposts

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fabunicorn · 2 years ago

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How about interactions with each brothers in forced agre scenario

Oh boy anon your putting me through the wringer here

Gonna be short cuz idk I want it to be short

Warnings

Yandereism

Diapers

Forced agere

Strong language

Diaper usage mention

Self harm mention

Reiji

“Come on baby time for a nap” reiji cooed down at you in your okay playpen.

You looked back up at him with a glare “fuck off you damn blood sucking mosquito from hell” reijis eyes widened in surprise “oh I didn’t know you wanted to be punished today, come on little one legs get this over with.”

“No no papa I’m sorry pls no” you pleaded only for it to fall on deaf ears “I’m Sorry little one but this is what brats like you get”

Shu

“Time for your bottle hun” shu said coming into his room with a baby bottle.

“I’m not drinking that shit” you said eyes narrowed at shu “I think you’ll find you will because you don’t get a choice in the matter” and with that he shoved the bottle in your mouth and pinched your nose so you have no choice but to drink “well guess I win” shu said with a mocking smile on his face.”

Laito

“Dollchan~ time for me to check your nappy, did my baby go potty like a good girl” Laito sang in a cheery voice.

“No I’m an adult don’t need diapers you freak.”you said turning your back to Laito. Laito laughed “really little one the state of your nappy says otherwise.” He chortled you rolled your eyes “I hate you.” “I love you too”

Kanato

“Baby doll look at what daddy made for you, it’s a little puffy dress isn’t it cute?” Kanato said smiling creepily at you.

“I’m not wearing that I’m not a baby” you said crossing your arms. His creepy smile turned into a disturbing frown “you little brat, I spent time making this for you, you’ll wear it whether you like it or not” next thing you know you’re in the dress and kanato is showing you off to the others “aww babydoll your so cute.”

“Goddammit” you muttered under your breath.

Ayato

“Baby girl look daddy has takoyaki don’t you want some.” Ayato said with a Soft smile strapping you into your high chair.

“I don’t want your octopus balls” you said in a sassy tone. With a glare he shoved the takoyaki in your face purposely making a mess “wow little one if you wanted it that badly all you had to do was ask.” He said with a smirk.

Subaru

“Let’s go look at the pretty roses baby” Subaru says setting you on his hip.

“I can walk by myself and I don’t want to see your shitty flowers.” You said however Subaru just ignored you and carried you outside. “Look hun, these are called roses they have thorns so don’t touch” he said before putting one in your hand getting a thorn stuck in it and crying.

“Awe baby your just too little for flowers aren’t you” he cooed in mock sympathy.

Ruki

“Come here sweets I’m gonna read you the story of Adam and Eve.” Said Ruki sitting in a comfy chair in the library.

“I don’t want to hear your annoying voice.” You said with a huff. Ruki simply smirked and shoved a pacifier on your mouth “and now I don’t have to hear yours, now where we’re we.” He said before continuing to read.

Yuma

“Come on baby girl let’s go look at daddy’s garden” Yuma said putting you into your stroller before taking you outside.

“Wow a garden never seen one of these before oh look a strawberry never seen one of those before either.” You said sarcastically, Yuma clenched his jaw before picking a strawberry and putting it in your mouth “now you get to taste one for the first time how nice is daddy” he said before taking you back inside.

Kou

“Kitten daddy’s gonna take you to a fan meet won’t that be fun” kou said before packing up your diaper bag and putting you in your car seat.

“No there is no way I’m gonna let thousands of people see me like they especially if they’re as delusional as you.” You said in a panicked voice. Kou narrowed his eyes “well if you wanted that much attention you shouldn’t have just asked I’ll make sure they pay extra attention to you” he said and shut the car door.

He stayed true to his promise and let his fans hold and cuddle you the whole time gushing about how cute kous baby was.

Azusa

“Little eve, it’s time you learnt about pain” Azusa said with a knife walking up to you.

“No! Please don’t hurt me I’m begging” you sobbed in fear Azusa quickly shushed you “no little eve I won’t hurt you I’ll show you the pleasure of pain.” He said before handing the knife to you.

“Come on baby, if you love daddy you’ll cut him.” He said with pleading eyes but you just kept crying “alright perhaps another day” he said disappointed.

#yandere #forced agere #diabolik lovers #yandere agere #yandere diapers.#daddy kanato #daddy reiji #daddy subaru #daddy laito #daddy shu #daddy ayato #daddy kou #daddy ruki #daddy Yuma #daddy Azusa

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ohthethingswedoforlove · 5 months ago

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Hai there!!:D I hope ur having an amazing day, ive never like requested a fanfic b4 so I’m so so sorry if I do smth wrong?😭 but I really really loved ur Sal fanfic and I was wondering if you’d consider maybe doing a part 2 about living in the sea of death with him being his “lover” and allat hehe TYSM!!

Hi, I’m so glad you liked the Sal one! And don’t worry, your request is just fine haha, of course I’ll write some more for him! What can I say, he’s one of my old faves.

Warnings: yandere character; descriptions of violence and blood; imprisonment; mentions of death;

Sal

❤️ There's this constant contradiction when it comes to Sal, especially after the Red Sea has taken over and he no longer needs to keep an act.

❤️ For a sadistic bastard that no longer needs to keep up false pleasantries or exercise any sort of restraint, he's still surprisingly... Cheery?

❤️ One might even mistake it for him being nice, perhaps even kind, towards you. As long as you play along with whatever he wants, of course.

❤️ And if you don't? Well, there's only so much torture one can take before they start cracking, right?

❤️ Because Sal never stopped being violent. It's one of his favorite pastimes, actually!

❤️ It's just you, him, and this dark cell he keeps you trapped in that's stained with your now dried blood. And they say romance is dead!

❤️ That's where you'll spend all your time until he considers that you've been sufficiently integrated into the Red Sea. And he's the only person you get to see and interact with, the only thing keeping you from rotting in this place.

❤️ But he does have the grace, and how generous of him it is, to not actually go overboard when it comes to you. He wants you agreeable, not dead.

❤️ He really, really doesn't want you dead. And, well, there are fates worse than death.

❤️ Sal is convinced he can make you see things his way, that you'll "open your eyes" just like he once did. You'll embrace the Red Sea, and with it, him.

❤️ He'll break your spirit eventually. He's a very patient man, as you've unfortunately come to understand.

❤️ And you can fight back if you want! He doesn't discourage it, in fact he seems... Weirdly amused by your violent outbursts. He might enjoy being on the receiving end of your anger just a little bit too much.

❤️ Which only adds fuel to your despair and his insistence that you two are getting along so well!

❤️ He likes to talk about your "relationship" to literally everyone around him, the residents of the Red Sea growing very intimately familiar with how fixated he is on you.

❤️ None of them care, of course not, you're not getting any sympathy or help. And there's in fact something rather irritating about the way he so confidently says you two love each other, always in such a singsong, overly saccharine manner.

❤️ But there are moments where his cheerful veneer falls. If you refuse to talk to him, if you pretend he's not there, if you do your damndest to spite him in a way he doesn't find too funny. He gets angry, furious even.

❤️ It's always such a meticulous fury too, barely contained as his hands ball into fists with such force it draws blood, as his frame shakes ever so slightly. As his grin drops, he starts talking about this is the happiness he deserves, about how he suffered so much and only now things are finally in his favor. What makes you think you have a choice in this?

❤️ You might actually bring up this strangely sadden side of him without the anger accompanying it, if you actually bother to strike conversations and, at least pretend to, care about him. Everything he says is veiled in such vagueness, you'll never feel like you actually know who Sal is. Or who he used to be.

❤️ The past is the past, afterall, and who cares about the naive, useless person he used to be? What matters is right here, right now, with you in the Red Sea. He's happy.

❤️ And soon you'll be happy too, with him.

❤️ He does have an eternity to make you love him, afterall!

#tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere sal #yandere syakesan #yandere sal x reader #yandere syakesan x reader #yandere wadanohara and the great blue sea #yandere wadanohara and the great blue sea x reader #tw violence #tw imprisonment

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ofsupernovcs · 5 months ago

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The Abe family- Blood in the snow

The one reason why Nova can summon snow in times of duress

Nova was skipping outside with her friend. There was a cheery laugh from the other as she arrived at her house. Nova had a giggle as she skipped.

"I'll be right back Sana." Nova said with a bright grin. For the young pigtailed girl wasn't expecting much of anything to happen. It was a normal day, and she wanted to enjoy it such.

There was a groan from the outside. It made Nova took pause. Why was there a groan. The younger walked slowly through the labyrinth of the home.

Terehito! Kudasai (mercy) Kudasai (mercy) terehito!

It made Nova's blood run cold. What was her father doing. What was going on. Her hastened breath kept running forward, hoping everything was okay and it was just an arguement. Her father just by the doorway .

Nova sighed in relief but the sight she saw terrified her. It was one of the staff, his once white shirt turned crimson, repeating to have mercy on him. Nova felt herself in shock. She couldn't held but scream in terror. How can her father be so cold....like the snow fall.

And then it started to snow. The blood dissapiting through the ice, a warmth protecting her. She looked at her father who in turn had a shocked look on his face.

"Yamete.(stop)" Terehito said his eyes stern on his daughter.

Nova only looked in confusion but Terehito only got angrier.

"YAMETE." He said with more conviction.

This time the snow stopped but Nova was still shaking. Terehito gritted his teeth.

"Some people deserve to die- especially if they don't pay their debts." He said simply. There was a pause before put away his blade. There was a fake tenderness in his eyes.

"Nagisa never do wha you did today ever again." He said gently wiping his tears. Not out of sympathy but out of reputation. He couldn't have the yakuza know he married a witch.

Nova only nodded feebly.

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

Nova sat at dinner that night with her family. It felt wrong without him there. He was an elderly man who always made a joke, lighten up the mood. But he was no longer there.

Nova looked at her mother, who was averting her eyes away from her daughter, and then her grandmother mouthing something about talking later.

Her brothers looked at Nova with a variation of apathy and annoyance-whispering about something she couldn't quite decipher. Finally the eldest talked.

"Miko." He said. Nova looked at Enji confused. Something in his eyes had a fury. "How are you the-"

"Yamate." Terehito said in a stern voice. Enji bowed but looked at Nova with pure contempt.

Terehito sat in the middle of the table eyes scanning everyone but looking at Nova longer as if she committed a great sin.

"Deru kugi wa utareru" Terehito said looking directly at Nova.

“The nail that sticks up, will be hammered down.”

"Hai." (Yes) Nova's brothers said echoing that sentiment.

There was an expectant look on Nova.

"H-hai." Nova said feebly. Nova stood up and bowed to her father for forgiveness.

Terehito reluctantly nodded.

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

Nova was sitting in her nightgown in her grandmother's room. Her grandmother giving Nova some mochi.

"It's not your fault." Rei tried to reassure her. "Nagisa you couldn't have known."

Nova bit into the sweet only now responding.

"Did I make it snow."

Rei's lips were a thin line- unable to answer. There was a look of concern because she knew what she had to do- but Rei hated it. But it was for Nova's and Ami's safety.

"Just close your eyes." Rei said. Nova nodded and closed them.

Rei muttered the sealing spell on Nova quietly. But she couldn't help but add.

"May the fox protect you from harm." Under her breath.

The red seal made its place over Nova's heart before fading inwards. Nova had a confused look on her face, as if she woke up from a dream.

Nova looked at Rei.

"What happened today?" She couldn't help but ask.

Rei forced a smile.

"Sana had to go home early and you were a bit sad." She tried to reassure.

Nova looked at her grandmother before an airy laugh left her.

"Silly me." Nova said with a giggle. Rei ruffled Nagisa's hair.

"Tomorrow is a new day my little star." Rei reassured

Nova smiled and ran to her room

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

"Is it done?" Terehito asked

Rei looked at her daughter's husband with contempt.

"Sooner or later she can find out." Terehito scowled and leaned closer.

"Then we'll have to be more careful Rei." He said in a venomous tone.

Rei waited until Terehito left before muttering.

"A fox will defeat you for your arrogance."

#self para #p;nova #npc;terehito #ft.enji #blood tw #death tw #violence tw #(so much googling really did have to go on this part of novas backstory)

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kaioshin-kai · 1 year ago

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Little info stuff on Beadle & Rubis

(Some fun deets I'm writing off while eating lunch. For self-reference. Expanding lore. Details before I work on proper bio.)

— Beadle is Rubis' best friend, and also a friend of Solune (childhood friends.) He's in good terms with most individuals. He is the big buff sunshine, followed up that he has a pretty girly face and girly demeanor. He's pretty loved by most but also seen as a dumbass because he's just… kinda ditzy… He portrays a part of my ADHD-C, I guess. But very cheery in demeanor, he's a bit of a wuss and scared of things like spiders and the sight of blood so be could squeal or freeze up. He is friends with Shallot and helped him the most (even though Beadle wasn't so good at helping him and Rubis had to jump in multiple times.) Beadle loves most people, but he especially has fondness for eccentric and unusual individuals he's also good friends with Tahinnia and his boss Eyre. Despite Beadle's ability not to judge harshly, he dislikes Zamasu and will not be friendly to him: This is because Zamasu grew up with him, Rubis, and Solune. Even though none of the 3 have experienced nor can remember Zamasu's betrayal because they were in a different world during that time (Xenoverse unaffected.)

Beadle is 7'ft and very muscular. Despite the fact that he's actually not that good in martial arts. He's PHYSICALLY VERY STRONG. He tanks powerful ki blasts, physical strikes and is an excellent sparring partner for Shallot and other saiyans.

— Rubis is the self-proclaimed "girlboy" of the group, Beadle's bestie, and a childhood friend of Solune. He is flamboyant and proud. Rubis is kind, and like Beadle, mostly cheerful, but more on the sassy side and more expressive when angry or anxious. Rubis loves to be of help and often takes more than he can handle. Rubis is way more intelligent than he seems and possesses a lot of random skills that are very convenient, a jack-of-trades kinda guy (still developing this). He typically hangs out more often with girls due to him being naturally more feminine. He's friends with Tahinnia as well, as both love alternative fashion. Rubis loves to chit-chat, sometimes tends to gossip and over-share which can cause rumors. He's actually one of the few people who had genuine faith in Zamasu's redemption and expresses more sympathy to (much against Beadle's and Solune's approval.) Rubis looks up to his supreme kai, Anato. Rubis is also very fond of Chronoa.

Rubis is 4'11, has a lean-athletic physique. Muscular legs but skinny arms. When fighting, he mostly uses ki attacks. Avoids fighting with physical attacks because he doesn't want to mess up his long hair or break a nail.

#(ooc)

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airellesinhaze · 4 months ago

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Crow and the Sea

He tried ignoring the sea But it was bigger than death, just as it was bigger than life.

He tried talking to the sea But his brain shuttered and his eyes winced from it as from open flame.

He tried sympathy for the sea But it shouldered him off - as a dead thing shoulders you off.

He tried hating the sea But instantly felt like a scrutty dry rabbit-dropping on the windy cliff.

He tried just being in the same world as the sea But his lungs were not deep enough

And his cheery blood banged off it Like a water-drop off a hot stove.

Finally

He turned his back and he marched away from the sea

As a crucified man cannot move.

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yhwhrulz · 9 months ago

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Morning and Evening with A.W. Tozer Devotional for May 17

Tozer in the Morning Religious Elitism

The question of numbers and their relation to success or failure in the work of the Lord is one that disturbs most Christians more than a little.

On the question there are two opposing schools of thought. There are Christians, for instance, who dismiss the whole matter as being beneath them. These correspond to the lovers of high-brow music who firmly refuse to admit that there is anything of any real value other than that composed by Bach, Beethoven and Brahms. They know they are in the minority and glory in the fact, for in their opinion it is a very, very superior minority and they look down their noses at all who enjoy anything less complicated than a symphony.

Of course this is cultural snobbery and tells us a lot more about such persons than they would care to have us know. They remind one of the unco-learned of whom Colton wrote, "So much they scorn the crowd that if the throng by chance go right, they purposely go wrong."

Now among religious persons I have met a few who are guilty of a kind of spiritual snobbery of which they are doubtless wholly unaware. These have recoiled so violently from popular, cheap-Jack Christianity that they simply have no longer any sympathy with crowds. They prefer to sit around the Lord's Table in a select and tight little circle, admiring the deep things of God and, I very much fear, admiring themselves a wee bit also. This is a kind of Protestant monasticism without the cowl and the beads, for it seeks to preserve the faith of Christ from pollution by isolating it from the vulgar masses. Its motives may be commendable, but its methods are altogether unscriptural and its spirit completely out of mood with that of our Lord.

Tozer in the Evening CONFESS CHRIST'S LORDSHIP

I think it is a completely wrong concept in Christian circles to look upon Jesus as a kind of divine nurse to whom we can go when sin has made us sick, and after He has helped us, to say, "Goodbye, Jesus"-and go on our own way. Suppose I go into a hospital in need of a blood transfusion. After the staff has ministered to me and given their services, do I just slip out with a cheery "goodbye"-as though I owe them nothing and it was kind of them to help me in my time of need? That may sound far out to you, but it draws a picture of attitudes among us today. But the Bible never in any way gives us such a concept of salvation. Nowhere are we ever led to believe that we can use Jesus as a Savior and not own Him as our Lord. He is the Lord and as the Lord He saves us, because He has all of the offices of Savior, Christ, High Priest, and Wisdom and Righteousness and Sanctification and Redemption! He is all of these-and all of these are embodied in Him as Christ, the Lord!

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cartoonfanaticmonsterrobotalien · 1 year ago

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Sneak Peek to Solar Opposites in Mighty Solars Issue #48: “Monster Mayhem”

The Human Solars ran to the league witches of Earth-4 and the rest of their fellow Mighty Solars

Human Terry: Guys, what happened?! What happened to to 5 Teen Witches?!

Human Jesse: I don’t know but this city is fancy!

Luke: Ugh! Someone has entered their minds and have made their form’s uncontrollable! When we tries to get them to hear us, someone went inside their minds and have turn them into the worst things possible, Titans!

The human Solars gasp.

Human Korvo: Oh no…we gotta save them or-

Miss Frankie/Nightsaw: Uh, quick fellow humans go get our fellow Mighty Solars aliens quick! winks at the Human Solars

Human Korvo: On it!

The human solars then went and hide behind the walls as they turn back into their Shlorpian forms.

Korvo: Mighty Solars, time to suit up!

Yumyulack, Jesse, Pupa, Sonya and Phoebe: Right!

Terry: Hell yeah!

The group suits up. And with that the Solar Opposites family transform into their Mighty Solars and runs up to meet the others.

Jesse Solar-Opposites/Fung-irl: Guys!

Rest of the Mighty Solars: Guys!

Darcy/Sonar Woman: Thank God you guys are okay!

Nova/Heartstar: We have big problems!

Yumyulack Solar-Opposites/Vil-Gil-An-T: What kind of problems?

Linda: The girls have lost control of their Zenith powers! They’ve become Kaiju beasts!

Terry Solar-Opposites/Mighton: That does NOT sound good.

Louise, Trevor, Dr. Weatherstone, Alice and Janice sees the Mighty Solars and runs up to them, which for Stacy G’s attention.

Stacy G: gasp Mom!

Louise: Stacy! I was so worried about you! kisses her on the forehead

Quasarblast smiles.

Trevor: Thank God we found you! You won’t be a fucking day we had-

Cherie: Guys! Duck!

Trevor: Huh?

The heroes, Earth-4 witches and their friends then see mega quintessence mutant Will attacking as they dodge her.

Jesse Solar-Opposites/Fung-irl: Jesus christ!

Montez: Ugh! These girls are literally not listening to us!

Phoebe MaCcarthy/Starburst: We have to save them, or worse…

Jesse Solar-Opposites/Fung-irl: KILL THEM?!

Mighty Solars: What?! No! That’s wrong! Fucking crazy! We’re not killers y’know.

Jesse Solar-Opposites/Fung-irl: Okay. Sorry. Geez.

Pupa Solar-Opposites/The Mighty Pupa: MURDER!

Yumyulack/Vil-Gil-An-T: It’s okay Pupa. Fung-irl just freaked out for a bit.

Terry Solar-Opposites/Mighton: It’s okay sweetie. We know you didn’t mean it.

Korvo Solar-Opposites/Quasarblast: I think what Starburst means is that we need to FIGHT them.

Suddenly, when the Five Kaiju Teen Witches combine their blast at the heroes, it ends up blasting Louise, Trevor, Alice, Dr. Weatherstone and Janice, which ends up powering them as they scream. As the dust clears, the heroes sees five new heroic figures as Stacy G looks in worried.

Stacy G: MOM!

Stacy G tries run up but Fung-irl stops her As the dust clears, like when the Calamity trio transformed in Amphibia it is revealed that Trevor, Louise, Alice, Janice and Dr. Weatherstone have received their own Mighty Solars super suits

Dr. Weatherstone/???: Woah!

Louise/???: voice gets distorted; lifts her green lava cape Swanky duds!

Vil-Gil-An-T‘s jaw drops in shock. Alice grins as she shoots a lightning spider web up at the sky as she grins and blows the smoke off of her finger.

Alice/???: Louise, I have no idea we can do that!

Dr. Weatherstone/???: Did you know about this?

Louise/???: Uh, nope. These powers feel way more intense than before.

Janice/???: floating behind Louise The powers must stack when used in tandem! H’no Classic synergy buff y’know.

Quasarblast suddenly thinks of something.

Korvo Solar-Opposites/Qausarblast: This is perfect! Maybe you guys can distract the girls while we-

Trevor/???: Guys! Look! I’m walking plasma of H2O! This is awesome!

Quasarblast shifts a little.

Korvo Solar Opposites/Qausarblast: As I was saying, you new five can help us distract the girls while we find a way to stop whoever is doing this to them!

Phoebe MacCarthy/Starburst: That could work!

Marissa: offscreen Oh will it?

The heroes gasp and then sees the dream amulet broken as smoke flies from it and then they see Marissa floating above the broken amulet.

Parker/Venus Tip: Oh no.

Min-Li: gasp What?! This is impossible?! You were supposed to be trapped and-

Marissa: It’s too late! These girls are now under my control!

Yumi: What do you mean?!

Marissa grins evilly which made Starburst growl and realize something.

Phoebe MacCarthy/Starburst: You bitch! It was you who did this! You’re a fucking psycho!

Quasarblast growls in anger upon hearing what Marissa did.

Korvo Solar-Opposites/Quasarblast: You monster! How could you-

Marissa: I had already some help! Someone who was willing to help me! It’s too late! These girls are now mine! Nothing can stop me-

Suddenly, a blast hits Marissa as she falls to the ground in pain and lets go her staff.

Terry Solar-Opposites/Mighton: What the fuck?! Who did that?!

Cherie: I don’t know.

Darcy/Sonar Woman: Wasn’t me!

Korvo Solar-Opposites/Quasarblast: We need to stop her now!

Suddenly a woman’s chuckle was heard, which sounded familiar to Cherie, Nova, Montez and Sherbet.

Nova/Heartstar: Oh my God… that voice…

Cherie: It can’t be… can it?

Sherbet/Fizziepop: Oh God. No! No!

Cheery Smithers/Bloody Sympathy: Guys, what’s wrong?

???: Oh you poor things. Trap in a mind of a rogue witch… all that woman wanted to is get her fucking stupid son back on her side and rule the world and take you for advantage… but she was just a fool… I however… can make an offer to you five…

Suddenly…a blazing lightning midnight purple spiritual mist appears as it reveals an old foe of the Wallians… Sister Sisto as the Heartstar, Cherie, Montez and Fizziepop gasp in horror while the others grow shock.

Cherie: Sister Sisto?!

Terry Solar-Opposites/Mighton: You know her?!

Sister Sisto/???: Hello, my former fellow Bowinians…

Jesse Solar-Opposites/Fung-irl: Bowinians?! What?!

Korvo Solar-Opposites/Quasarblast: Heartstar, what is happening?!

Nova/Heartstar: Guys, that’s the false prophet we were telling you about last time when we first met! That’s Sister Sisto!

Mighton gasps.

Yumyulack Solar-Opposites/Vil-Gil-An-T: WHAT?!

Quasarblast looks angrily at Yumyulack.

Korvo Solar-Opposites/Quasarblast: sighs in dismay; deadpan Way to go Vil-Gil-An-T… you accidentally created a villain!

Yumyulack Solar-Opposites/Vil-Gil-An-T: I didn’t know!

Montez: I’m sorry true! She’s a false prophet and a murder and a kidnapper! She’s the one who causes all of this! The death of Tim, death do Sister Sasha, the temperature, everything!

Vil-Gil-An-T starts crying.

Cherie: She also kidnapped Pezlie and made her an icon! She also used Jesse as a pawn of her own.

Korvo-Solar-Opposites/Qausarblast: comforts his son Hey, it’s okay… you didn’t know… shh…

Yumyulack Solar-Opposites/Vil-Gil-An-T: I’m so sorry, Cherie.

Cherie: comforts Vil-Gil-An-T It’s okay. You didn’t know. Sisto was also using Jesse as a legend just to get people to follow her in a path of death!

Sister Sisto/???: Oh, this is very touching but I think it’s time I sealed your fate!

Marissa growls but gets grabbed in the rope by Sister Sisto.

Marissa: Let me go! grunts

Ms. Frankie/Night Saw: You’re not gonna stop us!

Sister Sisto/???: Oh I sure will. For I am… reveals her new physical form and a villain suit of her own Black Mirror!

Heartstar gasps

Sonya/Nighthowler: Oh no! She’s crazy!

Sister Sisto/Black Mirror: Oooh! But first…

Black Mirror attacks Mighton.

Korvo Solar-Opposites/Quasarblast: MIGHTON! growls at Black Mirror

Mighton groans in pain while Qausarblast helps his hubby up and looks at Black Mirror furiously then uses her mind control on the 5 Kalju Teen Witches as they roar in pain. Marisa tries to get out a beastly looking potion, only the wind to blew it out of her hands onto Quasarblast’s leg as he screams in pain.

Nova/Heartstar: Qausarblast!

Jesse Solar-Opposites/Fung-irl: QUASARBLAST!

Yumyulack Solar-Opposites/Vil-Gil-An-T: Oh my God!

Sonya/Nighthowler: Daddy!

Sister Sisto/Black Mirror: I bet that hurts…

Suddenly, Quasarblast starts screaming in pain as he suddenly starts growing bigger and muscular and his skin starts to turn black as he starts growing to the size of a KaIju beast.

Randall/Blackhole: Oh shit!

Principal Cooke/Trailblazer: That’s a huge bitch!

Terry Solar-Opposites/Mighton: Quasarblast?!

Now a giant KaIju Mundane, Quasarblast roars while the rest of the Mighty Solars gasp in horror and Black Mirror laughs evilly.

Jesse Solar-Opposites/Fung-irl: What’s happening?!

Sonya/Nighthowler: Quasarblast! No!

Yumyulack Solar-Opposites/Vil-Gil-An-T: What have you done?! You turn our dad into a fucking monster!

Mighton starts crying.

Sister Sisto/Black Mirror: Aw what’s the matter Mighton? Love the makeover I intentionally did to your husband.

Mighton starts snarling in anger with tears in his eyes. He then punches Black Mirror in the face as she growls.

Sister Sisto/Black Mirror: You strong arm bitch! What the fuck?!

Terry Solar-Opposites/Mighton: YOU WILL PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID!

Black Mirror grins and escapes by turning into her spirit form and leads the 5 KaIju monsters away from the heroes. Mundane Quasarblast growls as his eyes glow aquamarine and angirly follows them monster for battle.

Terry Solar-Opposites/Mighton: No…Korvo!

Nova/Heartstar: We have to go after them!

Louise/???: We’ll take care of the girls! You take care of Quasarblast!

The heroes split up while Mighton looks tearfully at Mundane Quasarblast roaring.

Parker belongs to @prospitdaydreamer

Phoebe MacCarthy/Starburst and Monica Miller/Lightspeed belongs to @themagicwolf6677

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viacursecasting · 2 years ago

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Sonadow Scenario #73

Awake.

Another restless night.

Shadow buried his face in his palms as he sat beside the hero's hospital bed. The room was blindingly white and sterile, filled only by the steady beat of the heart rate monitor, a sound Shadow had grown accustomed to for the past week. His shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. There have been times when he thought, Is this fool ever going to shut up? But now he would give anything to hear that cheery voice one last time.

As if on cue he heard Sonic stir, ruby eyes snapping up in anticipation. He watched with bated breath as the hero turned his head toward Shadow. Then, an eternity later, he slowly revealed his tired emerald eyes, locking gazes with the agent.

Shadow hardly noticed the sound of the heart rate monitor slightly picking up speed as his own beating organ pounded in his ears. "Sonic?"

The hedgehog gave a weak smile. "Hey, Shads."

Shadow tried to not make the relief apparent in his voice, feigning a scowl. "It's about fucking time."

Sonic wanted to let out a chuckle, but doing so was too painful. He resorted to a grin instead. "Nice to see you, too."

Shadow noticed the way the hero winced. Suddenly a wave of sympathy washed over him. "How do you feel?"

Sonic tried to test his range of motion, but he found it quite difficult, especially with so many wires attached to him and even more layers of gauze wrapped around his torso. "It feels like Eggman sat on my chest."

"I'd imagine that would have been a kinder fate."

Sonic crinkled his brow. "What do you mean?"

Shadow looked at him quizzically. "You don't remember?" The patient shook his head. "Well," Shadow explained, "I was in a bout with Mephiles. He almost bested me, but you appeared out of nowhere to take the last blow in my stead. My team helped us escape, but just by the skin of our teeth."

Sonic made a mental note to thank Rouge and Omega later. He then took note of the bandage on the agent's upper arm. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Shadow said, following the hero's gaze. "I gave you some of my blood since I'm O negative."

How fitting, Sonic thought. The Ultimate Lifeform giving ultimate life...

Suddenly he felt a pang in his chest, making his pulse spike. A flood of nurses rushed to the scene, surprised to find him awake, but he insisted he was fine, even refusing extra painkillers. After checking his vitals, they happily informed him that he was on the road to recovery. They would only keep him for a few days for observation. He thanked them with a wink, making them giggle as they left.

"You refused additional morphine?" Shadow asked curiously.

Sonic batted his eyelashes at him. "I've got the best painkiller right here."

Shadow averted his gaze, masking his tint. "Perhaps you are too drugged up..."

Sonic laughed at that. But he was curious about something. "Y'know," he began, "while I was out, I think I... dreamt about you."

Shadow's redness deepened. "Is that so?"

Sonic nodded. "I dreamt that you were by my side the entire time, asking how I'm feeling, telling me about my friends, praying that I would wake up. You even held my hand a couple times."

Shadow's breath hitched.

It went unnoticed by Sonic, who chuckled. "Crazy dream, right? As if we would ever... y'know..."

Shadow murmured, "Yes. Quite."

A silence befell them. But it gave Shadow enough time to work up the courage to say something. "I actually dreamt about you as well."

It was Sonic's turn to tint. "R-Really?"

Shadow nodded, unable to look him in the eye. "I dreamt about us racing. Then talking. And then..." His resolve faltered.

Sonic piped up, "And then?"

Shadow swallowed. "I think I'd rather show you, with your permission."

Sonic nodded, bracing himself. Shadow then leaned close, taking the hero's chin. His voice was barely a whisper. "I held you like this, and I confessed that I was afraid of one thing."

Sonic felt magnetized by the agent's flowery scent. "What were you afraid of?"

Shadow wet his lips. "Losing you."

He then filled the gap between their muzzles, swallowing the hero's gasp.

Sonic's heart rate monitor sped up again, but they ignored it, too focused on listening to each other's breathless gasps. Sonic reached up to comb his fingers through the agent's quills. He didn't even notice the pain.

A nurse was about to check on the patient, but before they entered the room, they retreated with a blush to give the hedgehogs privacy.

The duo remained in the lip-lock for quite some time, savoring each other's taste, scent, and caress. Finally they pulled away, short breaths lingering on their lips.

"Wow," Sonic breathed. "That was—"

Suddenly his stomach let out an embarrassing whine, making him flush.

Shadow let out an amused huff. "I suppose you haven't eaten in a while. Should I get you a chili dog?"

Another whine from the beast. Sonic laughed nervously. "Could you make that two?"

#sonadow scenarios #sonadow #sth

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spicysoftsweet · 4 years ago

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summary: gojo’s tired of you resisting him

warnings: home invasion, noncon, degradation, fem!reader

a/n: this was supposed to be a crumb for @mahitopegger i have no idea wtf happened. i didn’t edit this || reposted from sideblog (now deactivated) on 4/17/2021.

It was only after the soft click of your door, and the eerie silence thereafter that seemed to threaten to close you in, that you realized that something wasn’t quite right. Your eyes darted left, then right, and you kicked off your shoes slower than usual, setting them semi-haphazardly to the side of your entryway.

Even if you weren’t paranoid, you were still the type of person to double check, sometimes triple-check your locks on occasion before you left your home, and you did remember your key turning the right way just seconds ago.

Maybe you were overreacting - after all you lived in a relatively safe area, alone save for your cat with a propensity to mewl for food at all hours of the day. Ah, that was possibly the issue, the fact that your little furry friend hadn’t made his presence immediately. But he knew how to be quiet sometimes, and was fond of an early afternoon nap.

The sound of your keys clattering on your coffee table now seemed unceremoniously loud, like you were disturbing a religious service. In your own house.

Your heart started to race for just a moment, and you turned around quickly.

Nothing. No person, no ghost, no cat. Just you, a sudden sense of unease, and your rapidly beating heart.

Why were you so anxious?

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d felt so unsettled for the moments in which you paced down your hallway, ears tuned to the soft footfalls of your presumably sleeping companion. You would have whispered its name but you didn’t want to wake up the needy little bastard unnecessarily.

It was only three paces in that you stilled suddenly, and the memory of the last time you’d felt this way suddenly struck vividly in your mind.

Clear blue eyes, bordered by long, pale white eyelashes. A smile, once easy and bright, with corners turned up far too high into malice.

You froze.

Was it him? Was Gojo in your house? He wouldn’t... would he?

Your last encounter had been... suboptimal, to say the least. You’d all but told him to get lost, that you weren’t and would never be interested, not after knowing who he was, what he was.

You needed a quiet, calm existence. Your imprint on the world would be measured. You had to stay away from bad omens like his.

But his reaction had been unnatural. He hadn’t given you a real response, just a smile, and you had felt just as unnerved then as you did now before you parted.

You were clearly still spooked.

But these nerves were just vestiges of your anxiety. Gojo knew how to take no for an answer. Of course he did.

He didn’t - you opened your bedroom to find the young sorcerer waiting for you, your cat comfortable in his arms.

“Ah! You’re back~”

Gojo didn’t move; rather, he continued to sit in his relaxed position, legs outstretched onto the bed, palm stroking softly at the soft orange fur. The soft purr of the docile animal filled the air with sharp contrast to your wordless mouth, opening and closing once in shock, and the frenzied beat of your heart.

He smiled before his eyes did, and shifted on top of your covers, getting to his feet. Dressed casually in a white t-shirt and a loose pair of sweatpants, as though he’d been lounging around your house the entire day... as though he lived here.

“W-what are you doing here?” You choked out.

His eyebrows furrowed, and his hold on the little creature relaxed, who remained for just a moment, mewing once before jumping off his lap, brushing by your legs that felt as though they would start shaking any moment, and then promptly sauntered out of the room.

“You didn’t tell me you had a cat,” Satoru remarked, now sitting with legs criss-crossed on the bed, hair mussed and relaxed, and with affect as bright as a child on his first sleepover. He patted the space on the bed next to him, beckoning you to come sit. “Did you have a good day?”

“Gojo, please get out of my house.”

His expression darkened for just a moment before it returned to its natural cheeriness. He patted the space next to him again.

“You must be tired. I can make you something. Tea?”

Your feet were glued to the ground, neither advancing nor retreating.

“P-please leave,” you repeated, more wary this time. Your hands were starting to shake and you watched his eyes flicker to them, then back to your eyes.

“Why would I do that?” He said, tilting his head ever so slightly.

His eyes bore into yours and you felt your stomach turn.

“Don’t you like my attention?”

“Satoru, please,” you continued, your lower lip wobbling inadvertently. “Please, just leave... I won’t tell anyone you came here, just... I can’t return whatever feelings you have, so just go.”

Your fists clenched and unclenched, but you still were so tense, planted onto the floor as though you were a sharp dagger thrust into vulnerable flesh. Why weren’t your feet moving? You should be running. Running as far as you can from this man who could just as easily become a monster if he so pleased.

As though he knew you’d already become powerless - not that it made a difference, the power differential was already so vast - he rose, walking towards you in an open, unguarded stance. He wasn’t afraid of you in the least. The very thought made your blood boil.

Once he stood before you, towering over your shorter, smaller frame, his lips pursed.

“Stop shaking.”

It was a command, given in an annoyed but direct fashion.

You don’t know why you eked out, powerlessly, “I can’t.”

“You weren’t this afraid when you were telling me to fuck off a couple days ago,” he noted. His hand rose to grip your chin, tilting your face to him. You don’t know when you’d started crying, but tears were now streaming down your face, warm and wetting his fingers.

“You’re crying? Where’s the sass you had then?”

“Please...”

Against your better wishes, his lips pressed to yours, and somehow then, your body remembered that adrenaline could also make you fight, and you did fight, thumping your hands balled into fists against his chest and his shoulders, as his hand gripped your chin tighter and his tongue forced its way down your throat. Once he’d gotten tired of your struggle, his other arm hooked around your waist, and he pulled you closer, pressing you against his body.

Your screams were muffled by his kiss as it grew deeper, and at some point, he’d decided on biting your lip painfully, drawing blood once he’d threatened you to shut the fuck up before he gave you something to cry about for real.

You remembered that the first time Gojo had kissed you, it had been soft and tender, nothing like this kiss that was violent and demanded submission; once his hand moved from its grip on your chin, it grasped your hair, fingers twisting and tugging to tilt your head back.

His lips left yours, now red and soon purple and blue, and made their way down your neck to mark them the same.

Every scream was futile, every plea for mercy fell on deaf ears.

At some point, you may have heard your cat meow for something... food? Out of sympathy? You weren’t sure, all you could think about were the painful hickeys on your collarbones and traveling down your bosom.

“I don’t know why you’re so resistant. You yourself called me selfish,” he murmured, ripping the top part of your clothing with the nonchalance with which one would peel a banana. At the sight of your exposed breasts, he was like a man rabid, slamming you backwards into the wall without much regard for head injury. His left arm caged you in, while his right pressed painfully onto your breast.

He paused for a moment, and grinned salaciously.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that~! You look so docile... it’s weird coming from you.”

To that, a fire renewed in your eyes, and you spat directly in his face. His lips curled again in satisfaction, barely reacting to the spittle dripping down his pretty features.

“Fuck you.”

“I will.”

With a small chuckle, he jerked your face painfully to the left such that you couldn’t look at him directly as he took your breast into his mouth.

The idea of this bastard suckling on you, loudly, lewdly as though you’d belonged to him only made the churn in your stomach worse, but the desperate attempts to a knee to his chest were met with barely a resistance. Like he knew you couldn’t hurt him and it was only a matter of time until you stopped and succumbed to him.

The process was already happening - you could feel your nipples hardening and a new flow of heat in your panties. Your tears became more prolific - no longer fear, but rage, but the hand that kept you steady against the wall was impossibly strong.

Your head swam as a confused pleasure started to replace the pain and fear you were feeling. More clothing was torn off of you, more of your skin was marked and licked and sucked. Once your panties were ripped to shreds, he lay your now languid and fight-drained body against him, cooing appreciatively at the new helplessness, pumping two slender fingers up and down your wet inner core as he moved you from the hard wall to the soft bed.

You almost thanked him.

His fingers remained within you as he laid you down, but once he withdrew his touch as your pounding hazy head hit the pillow, he replaced them with the roughness of his tongue, penetrating you without the least bit of shame.

You let slip the moan you had been holding in in defiance.

“That’s it, baby, let me hear you.”

He continued to lick and you continued to mewl.

Once he’d tired of the taste of your cunt, he invaded your privacy in the most all-encompassing way possible, pushing every inch of a greedy, throbbing cock inside of you. As you cried from the stretch, he shushed you with a hand clasped over your mouth to muffle your screams.

As if someone was going to help you. Maybe your cat would come and watch, but he’d found something else to do.

“I know it hurts but you’ll get used to it, I promise, babe,” he murmured, groaning slightly as he seated himself to the hilt. “There.”

He stilled and in the silence of the moment only punctuated by both of your soft pants, you remembered how to sob.

His nose crinkled, and he let out of a soft sigh, cock jerking impatiently inside you.

“Why are you so stubborn?” He mused, leaning against you so that his head rested in the softness of your breasts. He could hear your heartbeat that doesn’t beat for him... but rather it did, because he is the one making it quicken in some odd rhythm of terror and pleasure.

You didn’t speak because there was far, far too much to yell.

As though a timer had rung to mark the end of his empathy, he rose onto his hands again, sighing as he adjusted into the plushness of your walls that didn’t reject him as fervently as you did. He moved, shoving two fingers down your throat to gag your renewed protests as he thrust into you repeatedly.

The short gasps with every stroke only encouraged him, and the immense pleasure he found in the light of your eyes starting to fade into a placid dullness.

“You love me,” he informed you with every rut.

You didn’t answer.

You weren’t sure what this disgusting repetitive sensation bringing your body to climax was. You were no longer sure what he was even talking about, just that there was a warm thing pumping inside of you and fingers down your throat and pain everywhere else in your body, particularly your neck and shoulders and arms and breasts, and you were staring into precious sapphires littering the base of twin lakes.

“You love me,” he repeated. “I know you do.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo #yandere gojo x reader #tw noncon #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo sm #not sfw #gojo smut #mae.drabble #mae.writing

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years ago

Note

Will mafia!h and Y/N will have babies? 🥺💓

IM SO SORRY TO TELL YOU THIS BESTIE BUT.... </3

39. " I'm not saying a goodbye."

It was raining. Skies a gloomy shade of cinereal. Harry’s sleek car came to a screeching halt infront of the vast threshold of his home -- his grin pearlish, eyes twinkling a spark as he gets out of the car not caring to close the door behind. He greets his staff and strides two steps together with a gorgeous bunch of his lovie’s favourite flowers now dewy with raindrops and his nose twitched upon sniffing the vanilla-y smell while passing the kitchen and with his beam never vanishing he leaned into the doorframe asking the people inside, “’Ave y'seen Y/N?” Only for them to shake their heads in uncertainty.

She hasn’t showed herself downstairs since morning and even though it’s very odd of her not to chirp around the mansion nobody went to knock at her door to inquire, they think she deserves privacy.

This time they should have because when Harry barged inside their room it was caliginous with curtains shut and lights dimmed to zero.

“Lovie?” His cheery voice clamoured against the walls, a sour feeling he couldn’t be aware of pinches him in throat as he bobbed his head around to look for her and it perked up when a shadow falls on his feet.

“Baby?” His smile quirked back onto his confused features and he narrowed his eyelids to take in her presence through the darkness of wardrobe, “Harry.” A shaky whisper floated towards him and before that sweet call she was falling against his chest.

“Y/N ... baby —-,” His stumped chuckle halted, his brain numbed for a moment when his fingertips brushed up her back to push her closer to him and they trembled as they collected the wetness there. His heart bleaks a stinging pain into it’s cords, his breath shuddered coldly, flowers falling sadly beside their feet and his eyes earths with tears of panic, angst and torment.

His fingertips coating in his love's thick blood.

“I –- ‘m .. you –.. you’re h-hu —- hurt,” He stammered through a whimper hand wrapping around the dagger whose half end’s stabbed into Y/N's spine, her weak frail body unresponsive though she could listen to him.

“Who did this to you! Who did this to you!?” His screams and cries startled everyone downstairs and they rushed up to see what’s happening, to be shocked by their sights of Y/N limp in Harry’s embrace.

He turned his neck to shout at them, “I need a hand t’help me!!” His eyes bloodshot and Niall his best-man scurried over to them as Harry carried Y/N and laid her on her tummy on the bed, he slips onto his knees putting his chin on the mattress to look in her hazy painful eyes -- tears caged in them but never flowing down.

“Harry ...” She mumbled grittily in agony lifting her shaky fingers to pet his face and like an affection starved kitten Harry doesn’t let her tire herself and gets closer to her himself, “Niall bring the first aid, it’s under the sink.” He commands him not letting his eyes drift from over her angelic face.

“You’re okay baby. You’re okay, I know how to stitch up knife wounds.” He sniffled sucking in a breath trying to be brave for her and she just smiled gorgeously, lips blue and cheeks draining out of her usual berry stain.

“Jesus. Harry she’s been stabbed thrice, those fuckers,” Niall’s words wavered in fear and sympathy for Y/N. He squeezed Harry’s shoulder as Harry sobbed upon hearing that, “No –-... no, no! It’s still okay yeah poppet? I’m g’na get y'alright.” He wanted to covers his eyes to block the hurting groans Y/N elicited and he cradled her soft face in his warm palms in comparison to her temperature, touching their temples to pray together.

“Harry li .. listen to —- to me,” She gasps eyes flittering over his shoulder towards Bambi and Thumper the two dogs that had gotten overly fond of her, Harry’s blurry gaze follows her enfeebled gesture for them to come near her.

They whined and howled sadly flopping beside Harry and Harry hiccupped into his elbow shaking his head when Y/N put her hand under their ears in effort to scratch them but wasn’t able to unfortunately, “Hi babies. You’re gonna look after dad after ‘m gone?” Everyone cried at that watching her soul leave their dull lives that watered colourful upon her arrival.

“Don’t say that! Don’t y'dare say that!” Harry sobbed rushing to hug her tightly, the front of his shirt loathing crimson and she hissed looping her arm against his neck when Niall pulled the dagger out from her lower spine gradually and slowly not to hurt her.

“’M so sorry baby, sorry for being the reason of y’pain.” His tears dampened her already sweaty crook of neck, “Pr – promise me t-that that you’ll have some —.. someone who lov‐-.. loves –--,” She whimpered. Her body jerked into him with a force and she pushed him weakly away to stitch her lips tenderly against his's.

“Tell me bubby. Ha—- have I loved y'enough?” She cooed into their kiss and Harry bolted his eyes shut, poisonous sobs wrecking out of his chest.

“Tell me before, I go ...” Her heartbeat started dropping insanely, her lips wobbled, toes curling with life excavating out of her, “Y'have. Y'have don’t go baby, I’m not saying a goodbye!” He cried showering her in kisses for the one last time and pets her hair, eyes closed praying she takes him with herself because he'd never recover from the pain of loosing the only person he loved more than himself, the person who made hum love himself.

“I love you ..” She whispered, her loving kind eyes locked against his’s and the pool of honey around her rims expanded, her lips parted around the gasping breaths and Harry begged and pleaded — a side of him no-one has ever witnessed as he twisted in anguish considering himself the unluckiest man on the earth for letting his lover go like this, in the worst possible way.

“I love you, I thought I’d never be capable of, y'made me worthy darling. I'll always love you baby....” He shrieked into her chest heaving her up gently to embrace her properly and even though he knew she was no more with him, he fooled himself into thinking so.

If it was possible he’d have clawed his ribs to pluck out his heart in return of hers and he felt like the sun and earth had crashed vanishing away the time spaces as he sat there crying and crying mourning the loss of his lovie that could never be healed by anything in this whole word.

He keeps on holding her, rocking back and forth as he lulls her to slumber of death.

It hurts. It hurts so bad.

His heart weeps.

His soul aches.

When rain stopped and that tranquil silence doomed over them, rage filled his every pore and vein.

He knew who did this. Harry has played dirty but he has never played unfair. It was this gang of companies who sabotaged and destructed the orphanages at the property which belonged to his mother (but the papers weren’t clear) to build restaurants and apartments there so Harry took revenge by burning acres of their illegal drug running underground factory and rebuilt the orphanages and took Y/N to one of their charity events.

She was the happiest he had ever seen her.

It’s like a gun barrel clicked in. A firecracker catching the fuse of ashe to burst everything into flames as Harry laid her with ever most tenderness and kissed her temple, her lifeless eyelids and her chapped lips.

Cleaned the streak of blood with his sleeve and didn’t wipe his tears away bashing out of the room, everyone stepped away as Niall lunged infront of him to stop him before he goes to cause damage to himself more than to them for being in such a vulnerable and weak state.

“Step away.” He growled angrily, gaze fiery and dangerous.

“No.” Niall sighed.

“I wouldn’t get her buried in sucha cold blood. She didn’t deserved this, hell nobody does.” Harry kissed his teeth together gripping at his hair ruthlessly, cheeks dry with tears, his limbs trembling, his head spinning.

“Anyone who wouldn’t follow my orders gets their kneecaps blow-off.” He grunted -- nostrils flaring and saying this he went away, snatching his guns from the console and ordered his men to find the security guards that had their duties at the main gates.

In just a day he hunted each of those monsters down like a hungry wolf and gave them such punished, tortured deaths that each one fell in Harry’s feet for his mercy but his heart was turned into a stone already because the only warmth it had there was because of one person and that person’s gone leaving him to survive in this hellhole alone while he dragged these bastards to the depths of firepits.

Once, coming back home to her. To his sunshine, to his soul and life, to his reasons of getting up every morning so he would get to spend time with her —- he broke down. Into shattered bits and pieces of remorse, guilt and sadness feeling himself so small and hurtable as he cried to himself all alone in their garden with no-one to console him where he’ll come to meet her daily.

He wants to rip his skin apart and set it on fire for his beating heart to stop, for it stop feeling.

He feels sick. Fainting, in urgency and desperation to hold his baby and never let go.

To lay down with her under the soil if that's possible.

his only reason to live.

His only beloved.

The wind giggles through pink leaves of cherry blossom tree, lush grass resting peacefully and Harry smiles to himself treading towards his two most favourite people in the world.

The spring being their heartiest month.

“Azalea! What y’chattering ‘bout t'mum?” He asks and nods proudly when his lil boy stands up from his cross position on the ground from beside his mother and brushes the grassy spikes from his cherry printed shorts with his little pudgy hands.

“My first day at school dada!” The four years old squeals and Harry scoops him up in his arms, kissing his cheek again amount less times, “Is that so, huh! huh!” He tickles his little bun.

Y/N was right. Isn’t she always. Harry chuckles. Even if she’s gone he still feels loved from her, she’s in the rains, in the sweaters he wears when he feels shallow, in the scent of his pillows, she’s in the vanilla smell of their favourite cupcakes – she’s in his dreams and that name of their son, Azalea.

She always wanted to name their first born Azalea, a blooming flower that happens to be a vibrant pink, a gift of spring, are floriferous in sunshine and she'd always say that Harry would be their sun.

Their ever source of happiness.

Azalea was three days old when his mother died and Harry took him home even though not sure of his own decision but something in those little eyes that matches his mommy made Harry’s heart attract towards him so much he brought him without another thought.

A home he built with Y/N. The curtains of the mansion still remains pushed back wide, flower vases on every furniture, not a day goes by when anyone doesn’t misses her and the ducklings has grown so much that Y/N would have been spinning in happiness around.

Nothing has changed, life’s fleeting for everyone except for Harry. He counts each day and night that goes without her beside him in his sleep, in the little picnics with Azalea and Niall, in the story reading at nights with his baby, in kitchen to watch the winters first rain prattling against that one window that’s old enough to carry the remains of his ancestors, she’s never there to share a noodle pot with him while he sits and eat alone, never there to patch his favourite socks back, to kiss his forehead whenever he leaves home, to call him sweet names and to laugh with him on his silly jokes, to do thumb fights, to get angry with him whenever he refuses to layer himself in cold.

Never.

Never physically. But, she’s always there in his heart, her presence lurks around him and he could feel the warmth of her wrapping around him whenever he falls asleep watching telly.

“What did y'learn today bubba?” He asks Azalea and grins cheekily when Azalea babbles, “Colours!”

“That’s fuckin’ amazin'!” At that a huge gush of breeze hits him in face a tiny branch of the tree they’re standing under falls on his head.

“Kay' kay fine! No cursing.” He squeaks in defence pouting down at the grave of his lovie and his face splits into a grin when his hair glittered up with cherry blossom leaves.

“We miss you very much,” His voice heavy and sad. He gulps chokingly and blinks away the glossiness, stroking a thumb up Azalea cheek who’s sitting in Harry’s lap.

Every evening they come to meet Y/N, the hole in his heart couldn’t fill up of her void but the soothing feeling of relief that she’s in their garden and nearer to him has lessened the grief.

“G’na meet you tomorrow, our baby’s mighty hungry.” He chuckles hearing the grumbling noises coming from Azalea’s belly.

“You’re so cheeky baby.” His eyes glimmers and he feels himself swooning into breeze, “How’s it going in heaven?” He asks airily tracing his initials beside her beautiful name engraved at the tombstone and it’s like she’s scolding him when he gets a nip on his pointy finger.

“Azalea kiss mommy a goodbye.” Harry breaks into laughter when Azalea bobs his head and almost tumbles of his daddy’s lap in the effort to reach the tombstone.

“Goodbye beautiful.” Harry whispers kissing the top of her tombstone and his heart bursts into lilacs when once again he’s showered into petal like leaves.

“I love you too, baby.” Finally he has accepted to say goodbyes.

#THIS MADE ME CRY I NEVER CRY AT MY OWN FICS #THIS ONE WAS HELLA SAD #SORRY POPPLINS #BUT HAD TO GIVE YOU AN HEARTACHE #HARRY SAD WRITINGS #HARRY ANGST #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #cute harry #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry angst #hsh #fluff #dom harry

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braindeadbaddie · 4 years ago

Text

A Case Study in Kisses: Bajifuyu Through the Years

half for me, half for you, sticky kisses for two

Chifuyu and Baji will always split half a peyoung yakisoba.

They will buy one..two or ten, eat half of each, and then switch.

Baji is sentimental, and although Chifuyu thinks it’s a little impractical, he indulges him because he loves him. He loves to think that this is something that they do. This is theirs.

Baji does not eat peyoung yakisoba with anyone else, because when Chifuyu is done with his half, he always cups his face, and kisses him deep. He licks his way into his mouth, bites his bottom lip, and sucks on his tongue until Chifuyu is a whimpering, withering mess.

“For the extra flavor,” Baji says while licking his lips when he pulls away.

Then he goes on to continue eating, like he didn’t turn Chifuyu’s brain to mush.

Baji doesn’t tell him, but peyoung yakisoba always makes him crave his kisses. And the flavor always tastes a bit better from Chifuyu’s lips.

melting clouds

“Thank you for your patronage, have a good day,” Chifuyu says with a cheery voice as he waves off the last customer of the day.

Chifuyu sighs as the customer service smile melts off his face.

Today has been a long day. A very very long day.

He rubs the side of his neck, trying to work out the extra stress that has built there as he walks towards the door to flip the sign to “closed.” He lets out another long sigh before turning around and walking through the store to look for his boyfriend, so they can hurry up and get home, where they can hide away in the covers and pretend nothing exists but the two of them.

He turns into the cat food aisle and sees his boyfriend… laughing with Kazutora.

Now…Chifuyu has forgiven Kazutora for the pain of the past. He understands why he did what he did and how he lost his sanity to the world. He loves Kazutora, because Baji loves Kazutora, and because to some extent, he gets Kazutora.

So he understands exactly what is behind the look in his eyes when he looks at Baji.

Chifuyu’s been there too.

He swallows, try to work down some of the jealousy that is working into his guts.

It doesn’t work.

Fuck it.

Chifuyu walks up to the pair, throwing his arms around Baji, and nuzzling his face in the side of his neck. He gives him a squeeze as he lets out his third and loudest sigh. He feels the rumble of his boyfriend’s laugh before he hears it, the two working in tandem to send a hot thrill down to his toes, just as stepping into a warm bath would.

“Long day?” Baji asks, the sympathy apparent in his voice.

He nods, the exhaustion catching up to him as he rests his head against the back of Baji’s shoulder.

“The store is mostly clean, I can go count the register and finish everything up if you guys wanna get home a bit earlier…” Kazutora says, his voice masking most of the envy Chifuyu knows he feels.

“You sure?” Baji says, the rumble of his deep voice soothing Chifuyu’s heart. He could fall asleep standing up.

“Yeah definitely. Besides, I owe y’all one remember,” he says.

Chifuyu only sleepily hums, arms loosening around Baji’s waist. He feels his boyfriend turn around and wrap his arms around him to keep him upright.

“Well since this one is so tired, I’ll let ya. Thanks, Tora,” Baji says appreciatively.

“Mm, thanks Tora…” Chifuyu mumbles out, leaning heavily on Baji’s shoulder. He hears Kazutora’s retreating footsteps over the soft lull of Baji’s heart.

“You look like a little kitten,” Baji whispers softly, carding his fingers through Chifuyu’s fingers.

“Baji,” he mumbled, leaning into the touch. He tips his head up, searching for a kiss, all without opening an eye.

Baji chuckles and plants a small kiss on his nose.

“Baji….” he whines, feel the skin burning with the oncoming blush.

The rumble from Baji’s boisterous laugh, shakes Chifuyu up enough to flutter his eyes open and pout.

He feels the way Baji’s breathe gets caught in his throat, watching with sleepy eyes at the way his Adam’s apple bops up and down.

“God, you’re so pretty it’s unfair,” Baji mumbled before gracing him with a pillow soft kiss.

Chifuyu sighs into it, and for the first time that night, he feels all the stress, all the worry, and the entire world melt away.

All that matters right now is Baji’s soft kiss, lifting him up up up, causing him to float away.

Cloud 9 could never be as sweet as Keisuke Baji’s lips.

the sweetest sound (my name on your lips)

“Chifuyu,” Baji says with his beloved’s head tucked under his chin.

“Yes Baji-san,” he answers, his back firm against Baji’s chest.

“You know…you should start calling me by my first name. I don’t know why you’ve kept these formalities up like we haven’t been together for like….ever” he mumbles into his hair.

He almost misses the way Chifuyu stops breathing. But who could blame him…his heart is going so fast he can barely hear or feel anything but thump thump thump thump.

Chifuyu lowers the heat on the stove, where he’s making tea and turns around to face Baji. He looks up at him, a pink blush dusting his face, his plump bottom lip caught in his pearly teeth.

God, how could his boyfriend look so cute, so sweet, so absolutely breathtaking with nothing but Baji’s big sweatshirt on in the dim afternoon light in his kitchen.

Chifuyu could run Hakkai and all the other models in the world out of business.

“K-Kei…” he says bashfully, intoxicating green eyes darting between Baji’s eyes and….everywhere but Baji’s eyes.

“Hah…” Baji breathes out as the air is punched out of his lungs, blood rushing to his face.

“Kei…” he says again, more firmly, holding his gaze this time.

Baji bites his lip to stop himself from making anymore embarrassing sounds.

“Kei…” Chifuyu whispers softly, tilting his head just the slightest.

“God…” Baji groans out before rest his forehead against his boyfriend’s. He presses a firm kiss to his lips, before doing it again and again and again.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Chifuyu,” he whispers softly into the small space between them.

Chifuyu mumbles out something incoherent before pressing a small kiss to the corner of Baji’s mouth.

“Baji-san,” he whispers back.

“No no. Kei.” he replies firmly, looking dead into his boyfriends mesmerizing oasis of green. “You have to get used to it because you’ll be ‘Baji-San’ one day too”

Then blush that sparks across Chifuyu’s face makes Baji fall in love all over again.

He watches him gulp, let out a shaky breath before looking up into his eyes.

“Ok…” he mumbles out.

lazy morning dew

“Kei…” Chifuyu says sleepily, caressing his lover’s torso with his ear pressed to his chest.

The man beneath him hums, tightening the arm around him. Chifuyu loves the vibrating feeling the courses from his boyfriend’s body into his. He plants a small kiss right over his heart, then plops his chin over his folded hands, looking up at the love of his life.

Baji looks down at him, rubbing soft circles into his skin. His grey eyes sparkle in the sunlight that seeps in between the blinds, shining in contrast against his beautiful sea of black hair, making them look like far away stars in the night sky.

And Chifuyu is helpless to do anything but cling to them like a lost traveler, trying to find his way.

“God, you’re so gorgeous,” he mumbled out, unable to stop the words from flowing out of him.

He feels a light blush rise to his face, but he can’t find it in him to feel embarrassed. Not with butterflies dancing around his stomach at the way Baji’s teeth sink into his bottom lip. Not with the way Baji’s cheekbones start to color in a pretty pink. Not with the way all the love in the world seems trapped inside Baji’s eyes.

“How can you say that when you look like this…?” Baji mumbles out, bringing up a hand to cup his face

“Chifuyu…” Baji whispers, rubbing his thumb across Chifuyu’s blushing face. “Man, you look like a dream.”

He feels all the breath leave his lungs in a soft whimper, helplessly nuzzling Baji’s palm. His eyes flutter close and holds his breath as his boyfriend’s sweet lips meet his own.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over this. Not after knowing Baji for 13 years , being with him for the last 7, and living with him for the last 6.

He doesn’t think he could ever get over the way Baji’s lips brush softly against his in the morning, before planting them firmly in a sweet kiss. He loves the way he always uses his hand to guide Chifuyu, the way his arm tightens around him. He loves the way he never rushes in the morning, taking his time to explore Chifuyu with his lips, his tongue and his sharp teeth.

As Chifuyu wraps his arms around Baji’s neck, sinking deeper into the kiss, he think this is how the Earth must feel, being kissed by the sun every morning. Softly, slowly, bringing it to life in a new way, every day.

#bajifuyu #Bajifuyu fluff #why isn’t that a tag #keisuke baji #chifuyu matsuno #omg theyre so cute #more bajifuyu fluff #they deserve everything #an apology for all the angst #I love y’all #Tokyo Revengers #tokyo revengers fluff #Baji should be alive

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