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nxtaliaistyping · 27 days ago

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scarecrow escaping from Arkham to go to his partner's house and show her how much he missed her (I leave you that idea)

Scarecrow coming back to his girlfriend’s place <3

Author’s note: love love love this request, doctor crane my beloved <3

18+ nsfw, fem reader, fear play mentions, creampie

As Jonathan heaves his way through the typical rain that covered Gotham city at this time of year, he realises he’s still smiling.

Gassing the imbeciles that make up the security team at Arkham asylum had been a gleeful experiment. He’d watched with the familiar glint in his eye how they’d grabbed at their own throats in terror, writhing on the floor as the horror filled their senses.

But he had to tear himself away, knowing this was his chance at escaping. So he’d slipped away from the asylum, keeping to the shadows so no eagle eyed night walker would notice the garish orange of the Arkham prisoner jumpsuits.

His first instinct was to go to a safehouse, get to work right away at enacting his revenge on the city for incarcerating him. But his feet seem to have a mind of their own, and as much as he hates to admit it, his heart does too. So he finds himself knocking harshly on your apartment front door.

On the other side, you're a startled wreck. It's 1am for gods sake, and someone is banging on your door. With a shaky voice you ask who it is, your breath catching as you do.

"...it's me..."

You'd recognize that voice anywhere, and with a furious conviction, you open the door and see your lover standing there. He stumbles in, running a hand through his slightly greasy hair before slamming the door behind him. His hands are on you immediately, pushing you against the wall as he breaths raspily.

"Missed you sweetheart...like you wouldn't believe."

His tone has your skin tingling with excitement as you reach out and gently touch his jawline, as if you confirm he's actually here. "How did you..."

"I'll tell you later." he remarks gruffly, before his lips attach to your neck and gently suck, like his first instinct was to remark you as his own. "Just missed you."

Before it can strike you just how vulnerable he's being, he captures your mouth in a searing kiss that effectively kills off any lingering thoughts you had. It's clumsy and messy, his need winning out over technique as his tongue traces your own.

He moves to place sloppy kisses down your neck, tugging the straps of your nightgown to access more skin. He grins as he feels the material in his fingers; he'd always told you how much he loved that nightgown on you, said it reminded him of a slasher victim in a bad horror film, one who'd provocatively search the house before being killed in a gruesome way.

The white lace makes you look so...vulnerable in his eyes, like a lost lamb willingly baring her neck to the wolf who wants to eat her. So he keeps tugging, until your breasts spill out over the fabric. He attaches his lips to them, sucking softly as you gasp and run fingers through his hair.

"Jonathan...bedroom." you say, knowing that in his state, he'd most likely end up fucking you right there in the hallway. He reluctantly detaches himself from your tit, tugging you hastily to your bedroom and pushing you down onto the mattress.

"You don't know what it was like in that damn place." he remarks, finally getting sick of your nightdress all together and roughly tugging until it hangs loosely around your ankles. "How infuriating it was. I had Nygma in the cell next to me ranting that nobody was matching wits with him, and Tetch in the other going on about wonderland or whatever bullshit."

He moves to your wet pussy, hole twitching slightly as he runs his long digits through your folds. Catching the wetness, he circles your clit in precise circles as he continues. "Couldn't even relieve myself without someone ruining the fantasy."

"What were you thinking about?" you ask, and the grin he gives you should frighten you...if you were anyone else.

"Oh dear...I was thinking of you dripping over my lap, high on my fear toxin as i delivered spank after spank over that pretty ass of yours."

You whimper at his words, just as he sinks two fingers inside your cunt. He crooks them, feeling your g spot and sighing at the familiar texture. "And about how delicious you'd look as I fucked you, so scared and brainless, clinging onto me for dear life."

He fingers you quickly, eager to prep you so he can be inside of you once again. He never used to be like this, so desperate for wanton physical contact. But you've changed him, wormed your way into his life and heart until he craves you, craves the reactions and noises you give him as you lie helplessly beneath him.

"A pity I used up all my toxin on the guards." he lies, in truth he has some left over in his overall pocket, but he keeps up the charade. "Oh what a lovely victim you always make."

He pulls his fingers out roughly, giving your swollen clit a nice spank for good measure before hastily stripping. You sit up to watch him, missing him just as much as he'd missed you. The dangerous man before you had been the subject of all of your salacious and desperate fantasies as you'd touched yourself the whole time he was in Arkham. Nobody was like him, nobody could give you the thrill that Jonathan could. And as he rubs his swollen cock along your folds, feeling the way you write, you know that you don't want anyone else.

He enters you, giving you the courtesy of going slowly as he deduces it'll have been a while since you've had something substantial filling you up like this. As he bottoms out with a guttural groan, your fingernails dig in to his shoulders, the pain delicious to Jonathan as he bucks his hips, driving his cock impossibly deep.

"Fuck...you minx." he mutters, starting to fuck you. Each thrust he ensures that he's reaching as far in as he can, wanting to feel every bit of you.

You moan softly with each thrust, telling him how much you missed him too, how lonely it's been without him. And each sentence has his heart-rate spiking in a way that feels dangerous. He never meant to form attachments, thinking it as weak, or a distraction from his work. But it's clear now more than ever that he can't let you go.

So he drives into you faster, burying his face in your neck and biting, leaving harsh hickeys all over your throat. "Mine...mine."

"All yours Jonathan."

He groans again at your words, feeling his dick throb with desire. He knows he won't last long, being apart from you for so long (and his age) meaning his stamina has taken a direct hit. But he savors the moment regardless, feeling you on your back beneath him, like you were meant to be.

"Not gonna last..." he warns, and you nod in understanding, locking your legs around him to ensure he cums inside.

With a couple more thrusts, he empties himself inside your cunt as it milks him for all he has. His moan is broken and desperate, but the relief is palpable in his tone as he relaxes. The tension in his shoulders seems to lift, as his breath heaves.

"I...really did miss you." he reiterates, somewhat annoyed at himself for feeling the need to tell you once again, but the soft look on your face makes it worth it...at least a little.

#dc #dc smut #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #dc scarecrow #scarecrow dc #arkham scarecrow #the scarecrow #the scarecrow smut #the scarecrow x reader #scarecrow smut #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x you #smut #villain smut #villain kink #scarecrow batman #batman rogues

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year ago

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Can i please have shang tsung(mk1) when he was just a salesman, meeting reader(a kind village person) and them helping him with his wounds everytime he gets beat up and they actually show him that not everyone is mean? :> It can be a fic or just hcs, i just need shang tsung content :<

Does this contain dramatic ooc Shang Tsung? Yes. When I see him, all I see is the cat being held at knifepoint…also this is unnecessarily long.

You knew you shouldn’t spare Shang Tsung any ounce of sympathy nor remorse for his faulty practices and causing loss and suffering to spread evermore throughout your village then needed. But that didn’t mean you condom the call to violence from your fellow villagers, most of whom had grown tired of allowing themselves to become deluded to Shang Tsung’s lies, whilst others just wanted an plausible excuse to get their hands on the salesman for the longest time now and had finally found their excuse.

They all had valid reasons to return the harm Shang Tsung had put upon everyone tenfold but an entire village against one man wasn’t exactly the fairest of odds. Then again if you were to being this up to anyone and they would retaliate by saying that their current circumstances weren’t fair either, before going on a tangent of how Shang Tsung took advantage of a vulnerable backwater village that would firmly believe that pigs could fly.

And yet despite all that, you could never bring yourself to inflict physical harm on him, if anything you refrained from anything in relation to violence almost entirely; So when the mob of villagers went to gang up on the salesman, you would make sure that you were far away from it as possible not matter how well deserved it maybe…you didn’t want to bear witness to it nor encourage such ugly behaviour that every being in existence seemed to be cursed with.

Upon returning however, you were always met with a pitiful sight of Shang Tsung looking worse for wear with his injuries and disheveled and torn clothes. It tugged at your heart to help him, show him an ounce of kindness in a village filled with people unsatisfied with him still living. You wondered how much of a difference would it make for them had Shang Tsung did pass away, for you truly believed that harming him wouldn’t make the dead come back to life, it wouldn’t bring the sick and injured back to full health; nothing would undo what already had been predestined to occur.

However Shang Tsung was made aware of you presence almost instantly, you weren’t apart of the mob that come to beat him on a daily basis, he would know as those same angry faces were deeply engraved within his mind that he could tell when something amongst them was amiss and yours certainly didn’t strike familiarity within him; but that didn’t mean he was about to be seen looking weak and pathetic in front of an unfamiliar face.

‘If it is revenge you want,’ Shang Tsung began bitterly, ‘have at it. If it is restitution, there is nothing left.’

‘Oh, that’s not why I’m here-‘ you began.

‘I know, or else you would’ve been with that bloodthirsty mob earlier.’ Shang Tsung interrupts with a scoff, looking you in the eyes now. ‘So pray tell why are you even here? To brutalise me emotionally or mentally?’ He then questions before shrugging his shoulders and looking down to pick at the dirt beneath his nails. ‘Hate to be the bearer of bad news but I’m pretty sure your friends had that covered.’

‘If you would just shut it for a minute and let me speak then maybe you would know that I’m here to help you with your wounds.’ You said, not wanting to stand out in the pouring rain all night, listening to him go on a tangent about your backwater village as if you didn’t already know, your the one who lives here your entire life with no promise of a better one anywhere in sight!

Shang Tsung’s brows raised in surprise. Help? You’re willing enough to help him, despite everything he’s done? Now why was that simple sentence the most oddest thing he’s ever heard in his entire life. Was this a trick? A trap? Even as he’s looking into your eyes, Shang Tsung wasn’t quite sure what your motive in all this was.

Your eyes were so kind, genuine and honest that even if you were lying, you’d think he would have known better than to trust a beautiful liar. Not that he would admit to any of this, he had a reputation to uphold.

‘What’s in it for me?’ He asks, leaning forward.

‘You wounds won’t be susceptible to infection?’ You said. ‘I don’t have much else to give other then medical aid so…’ you trailed off as the sound of rain took to filling in the silence. Shang Tsung was silent for a while and you were bringing to feel stupid, you even began to regret offering him help and were about to call it a night, when Shang Tsung said something so quietly that you couldn’t quite hear it over the rain.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t catch that.’

‘I said fine.’ Shang Tsung said with a hint of irritation of having to repeat himself. ‘but don’t think anything of this, you are to patch my wounds as per your insistence. Nothing more, nothing less.’

After making a deal with seemingly the devil, you went ahead and lead him back to your place to heal him of his wounds and seeing him off, thinking it to be a one time only thing, before anyone got suspicious of your involvement with the man who had caused them so much grief and misery.

Unfortunately you were proven wrong as it seemed that either every time you healed Shang Tsung of his wounds, the next set he would obtain were objectively worse than the ones before and naturally, you began to worry that the villagers were taking it too far this time.

‘Oh my gods.’ You said from behind your hands upon seeing the state that the village had left Shang Tsung in this time, it almost brings you to tears. He looked utterly terrible and had an hard time trying to move from the doorway without wincing, allowing for a cold draft to sweep inside and bringing rain along with it.

‘Nice to know that I still leave you speechless.’ Shang Tsung teased but the smirk upon his lips was easily wiped off his face as it contorted in discomfort and his eyes clenched shut, he grit teeth to hold back a pained grunt. The villagers defiantly bruised something, how troublesome.

‘As much as I know that you love hearing the sound of your own voice, but I’m going to need you to stop unless you want to get even worse.’ You replied, already working on getting him sat down comfortably on the chair you had pulled from another room along with your medical equipment. Spending time with Shang Tsung would’ve drove anyone into a fit of rage either way how arrogant and pompous he sounded, but if anything you’ve gradually picked up some of his sass whilst patching up his wounds.

So whether he tried anything, you were able to throw it back at him, to which he would always reply with; ‘you dare to kick a man while he’s down my dear healer?’ Whilst his eyes shone mischievously.

‘If that man is anything like you then I’m sure he’ll survive.’ You responded back in kind, yet all the while keeping a gentle and steady hand when stitching his deeper cuts and gashes before coving them up. ‘Like a cockroach.’ You heard him sharply inhale and looked at him, worried that you might’ve pressed down too hard on one of his wounds and were about to ask, only to see him looking away from you with his nose up in the air; even when he’s injured Shang Tsung never fails to find the opportunity to be dramatic.

‘You did not just compare me to those vile things.’ He spat.

‘You say that now but cockroaches are notoriously impossible to kill.’ You said absentmindedly, having calmed down upon realising that he wasn’t in any sort pain that you didn’t noticed the sigh of relief that you had let out, not until Shang Tsung made a comment on it.

‘Were you worried about me, dear healer?’ He’d ask, seeing an opening to use to his advantage.

‘I thought I might’ve pressed too hard on one of your wounds or reopened them somehow.’ you shot him a small genuine smile. ‘I’ve never been more glad in being wrong. I don’t like seeing you hurt, not to this extent, it’s not like the villagers will gain anything from it.’ You didn’t think much when Shang Tsung remained uncharacteristically silent throughout the rest of the treatment, staring ahead at nothing, he didn’t say anything until he was about to leave where he flashed you a forced smile. ‘Thank you for healing me.’ Was all he said but it was enough to leave you stunned.

Shang Tsung was never one to thank you after healing him, ever, so much so that hearing him say that made you think that something within him had changed, but you weren’t the type to charge into a burning house just because you tricked yourself into seeing something; you were kind but to that degree.

Meanwhile Shang Tsung was mulling over your words in his head. Out of an entire village hellbent on seeing him dead, you were the only one to show him an ounce of kindness despite everything. At first he thought you were unaware of who he was and what he has done to your entire village but when he found out that you were aware, it made all your interactions with him up till now all the more questionable.

He didn’t understand what you think you’d get from being kind to him nor understood your motive, not even your intentions. Yet the more he came to you for healing, he gradually stopped being speculative and started believing that this was just who you were as an individual, it wasn’t a persona you put on for fun. You held a genuine sense of self that not many could claim to have, not even himself. He doesn’t like being vulnerable but he has found that he could do so fluidly when within your presence, sure it took awhile but in the end Shang Tsung knew that it was near impossible for him to be redeemed, he had hurt too many and push many more past breaking point.

Your kindness may have been a reprieve for him but it could never erase the blood off of his hands that will sooner or later taint you.

#mk imagine #mk imagines #mk x reader #mk x you #mortal kombat x y/n #mortal kombat x you #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat imagines #shang tsung x reader #shang tsung x you

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hellfirenacht · 6 months ago

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Wing Man 11

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: Steve talks shit. Paige and Eddie talk business.

5.2k words

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10)

Working for Family Video came with many upsides, especially when you worked with people who you also enjoyed seeing outside of the store. Rentals were already dirt cheap with your employee discount, and near expired candy and popcorn never quite made it into the dumpster out back and somehow magically appeared in your bag instead at the end of your shift.

You always liked to think that Family Video was sponsoring your bi-monthly movie nights with Steve and Robin. The Harrington household was always the meeting spot, as he was the only one who had a tv and VCR in his room. Well, you did as well now after Keith had tossed out an old player, saying it was broken. You’d brought it home to tinker with and found that some kid had stuck gum in the tape slot. It had taken you a week to clean and another month to figure out how to hook everything back up, but it was yours. Steve still had the nicer home and tv though, and more importantly his parents bought brand name snacks.

The three of you were in Steve’s living room, the movie playing on the screen long forgotten as the three of you caught up with each other. Robin was usually the barometer for if a movie was worth watching, she and Steve might have had very different tastes, but Steve would usually get sucked up into whatever movie she chose.

“So is his band any good?” Robin asked, dumping a bag of m&ms into her bowl of popcorn.

“I think so.” you shrugged, cracking open a drink. “If anything, they’re good enough to be scouted twice.”

“By the same person.” Steve pointed out. “You know, his ex.”

You had brought the news of Eddie’s meet up with Paige to your friends with mixed results. Robin seemed indifferent, but that’s because most of the time she didn’t have the same interest in talking about boys. Steve, however, seemed less than thrilled about this idea.

“Yes, Steve, his ex. As in, not together anymore.” you sighed, wishing you felt as confident as you sounded. “Whatever happened between them sounded like it blew up for both of them.”

“But she still wants to have lunch with him!” Steve said.

“Yes, to talk about the band!” you shot back. “And it’s lunch. Didn’t you tell me that dinner is a date and lunch is just two people hanging out?”

“Since when does my advice apply to you or Eddie?”

“Since Paige isn’t me or Eddie, so your dating advice might actually apply here.” you snapped and took a breath. “Sorry. This is all new to me. I’m really not sure how I’m supposed to feel right now. It’s like every time things start to go well with me and Eddie, something happens. Paige, Chris, you-”

“Hey-”

“I like him a lot.” You leaned back against the couch, grabbing the popcorn bowl from Robin. “When I’m with him, I get that same feeling that I do when I’m hanging out with you two or when I’m at the show every month. I don’t feel like I’m hiding myself when he’s around.”

“There are other weirdos and freaks around.” Steve pointed out. “If I had known there were that many of you around, I would have agreed to go to the show earlier to help you get phone numbers.”

“Yeah, but have you seen the way she looks when she’s talking about Eddie?” Robin hopped into the conversation. “I don’t think anyone even existed to her that night.”

It was true, no one other than your friends and (unfortunately) Chris had truly registered to you at the show. Yeah, you’d noticed the few cast members but they weren’t the metal head with the long hair and crop top that had held your hand all night.

“Oh shit, did I tell you guys that we ran into Chris?!” You asked suddenly, changing the subject.

“Wait, that guy you and Eddie kept talking shit about?” Steve turned to look at you, grabbing a handful of popcorn and getting crumbs on the couch.

“Yeah!” you said. “He actually works for the show now, I guess? He said he’s been there for a while and he’s seen me at the show before. It was so fucking weird.”

“Is that the guy who said you were too normal to play with Hellfire?” Robin asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, and he ran Hellfire into the ground until Eddie took over. And now he’s doing tech for the show. Also, he was Rocky in the shadow cast.”

“The guy in the metallic shorts?!” Steve gawked.

“Columbia did say that the cast changed for the night.” Robin said, and you gave her a quizzical look, remembering the lipstick mark you’d seen on her jaw that night. “She came by and talked to us before the show!”

“She couldn’t resist my charm.” Steve gave you a smile that you were sure worked with someone like Nancy Wheeler, or Tammy Thompson. You just shook your head and laughed.

“Right, anyway. Chris came and talked to us after the show and he told me auditions are gonna be open for the cast. He gave me his card, and told me that it was invite only.” you explained.

“You’ve been talking about wanting to be part of that since we started working together.” Steve said.

“Yeah, I guess I get a shot to do something, too.”

“Chris turned you down for Hellfire, and now is letting you audition?” Robin asked.

“We aren’t in school anymore.” you pointed out. “I know how it sounds, but none of us are the same people we were back then. I’m not the same person I was two years ago, none of us are.”

“I hate it when you’re right, you know.”

“I’m just saying that if I can give you the benefit of the doubt and make friends with you then maybe Chris isn’t as big of a prick as he was back then. I might not have even given Eddie a chance, either.” You picked out a few m&ms from the popcorn bucket, getting your fingers covered with butter and colored candy coating. “I mean, at the end of the day, isn't that what this whole deal was about? Shaking off old habits and trying to step outside of contentment?”

“I thought your deal was so that you can stop having Steve check you out every time you wanted to rent porn.” Robin snickered.

“I thought we were just trying to get dates.” Steve looked confused and you gave him a pat on the head. It always amused you how his hair could spring back into place like that.

“That too.” you said.

“So, you’re really okay with Eddie going to see his ex?” Steve said, forcing you back into that topic.

”I’m not thrilled about it.” You finally admitted. “But we only went on one date and this might help his band. Besides, if we start... Whatever this is without some sort of trust then is it even worth starting?”

“So you trust him?”

“I trust you and Dustin, who vouched for him. He was honest enough to tell me that it’s his ex who wants to talk about his band. What happens next is up to him.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” Steve relented and his eyes wandered back to the tv.

You didn’t, but you were tired of letting other people tell you what you should or shouldn’t do.

Ever since Benny’s shut down, there wasn’t really any good place to meet up with someone for lunch in town. Every time he had seen Paige before, it had either been at the Hideout, or his van. Neither of which was really a good place to talk about Corroded Coffin.

It was Paige’s idea to meet at the small hole-in-the-wall pub that was just out of Eddie’s comfort zone in terms of price. Eddie arrived on Saturday afternoon, earlier than he meant to with his nerves. He leaned against the wall outside of the pub, watched the cars go by as he waited for her.

She didn’t leave him waiting for long, and ten minutes before their agreed upon time, Paige was standing in front of him for the first time in over two years. She hadn’t grown an inch, but her wavy dark hair had, and now barely brushed her shoulders. In the daylight, Eddie could see a faint tint of red that he never noticed before. Other than two or three times, he realized that he and Paige had never spent a lot of time together when the sun was out. Paige’s freckles were as prominent as ever.

To Eddie’s surprise, she looked happy to see him.

“Hi, Eddie.” she said, and to his relief she didn’t go in for a hug.

“Hi, Paige.” He responded and reached over to open the door to the pub for her.

The two didn’t say anything until they were sitting at a dimly lit booth in the corner, where Paige broke the ice.

“Before we get into any business talk, I need you to be honest with me.” She started, sitting up straight and looking him in the eyes. “If you care about your future in music, and your band, you need to tell me what happened. Tell me how you ended up in jail two days before the most important moment in either of our careers.”

Eddie had expected this, and the past week had been spent trying to find a way to spin the story so that he didn’t look like the biggest asshole on the planet. In the end, he decided that he should be honest with her. Paige wanted real, and he would give that to her, tarnish and all.

Someone came by and took their drink orders, giving Eddie a moment to collect his thoughts.

“I did something stupid.” He started.

“Obviously.” She gave him a wry smile.

“Moving to California isn’t cheap.” He watched the tone of his voice, searching for that piece of him that made Hellfire and Corroded Coffin listen to him. Being a dungeon master for so long had given him a way of speaking that could draw someone in when he tried, and right now he knew he needed to try and convince Paige that Corroded Coffin deserved a second chance. “I needed a way to pay for everything that came with moving across country. My dad... he-” Eddie’s voice wavered for a brief moment. “He had an idea to make some quick cash for the two of us. It wasn’t smart, and it really wasn’t legal.”

“Jesus,” Paige sighed, looking at him with a deep frown. “I would have helped you, Eddie. I was already willing to let you live with me for free until we got you set up. I told you that you didn’t have to be alone in this.”

Asking for and accepting help wasn’t something that Eddie was ever good at. He’d been hyper-independent since he was a child, when his dad would disappear for long stretches of time, even after his mom died. Asking for help after (or especially because) Paige had put in so much money and effort for him already, wasn’t something that he could bring himself to do.

“I know.” Eddie said. “I had this stupid idea that if I didn’t make the effort on my own, then I didn’t deserve the change. So I did something stupid, really fucking stupid, and it cost me everything.”

“Mark told me that you shot a cop.” Paige said, and before Eddie could speak up, she continued. “I didn’t believe him. When I wired the money, I was able to get an idea of what happened. You saved that guys life.”

“I couldn’t let him just bleed out on my yard.” Eddie said. “I couldn’t- it wouldn’t be right to run away like that.”

“You really caused a lot of trouble, you know that?”

“I know.” Eddie took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry. I fucked up. I did a lot of stupid shit I shouldn’t have, and I paid the price. It cost me more than just the audition.”

There was a time between getting the news about his audition with WR Records and the heist that Eddie flew. He had everything he had ever wanted; he got the girl, had his dad back, he had a future, which was something he never thought he’d have. For a few beautiful weeks, he had spiraled up, up, and up.

In the end though, what goes up must come down. Eddie had reached for something that would never be meant for someone with the last name ‘Munson’. He had crashed back down to earth, to the reality of who he was and it had cost him everything. His dad, his childhood house, his audition, Paige, and even Ronnie for a short time.

For the next two years, Eddie swore to never even think about reaching for the sun again.

“Thank you for being honest with me.” Paige said. “I still think you’re an asshole.”

“I was an asshole.” He didn’t even try to fight it. “The biggest one in Hawkins.”

Even with her declaration, Paige still had a look on her face that was the ghost of an expression she had in the passenger side of his van on the night that she had given him the news that WR Records had liked him.

“Things went downhill for me when you bailed on the audition.” Paige said, and Eddie swallowed, his mouth feeling dry. He had never known what had happened with her after their fight over the phone. “I got in a lot of trouble because of you. Davey doesn’t like anyone, but he liked you. When I couldn’t get you out there, it really screwed up any trust I had with my job.”

She stopped talking for a moment as a waiter came by and dropped off their food. Eddie couldn’t bring himself to touch the overpriced sandwich in front of him yet. His mouth felt dry and he reached for his water instead.

“I was stuck in a dead end job, where any talent I tried to bring to the label was shot down without being given a chance. I was being paid to do nothing, except babysit the studio and paperwork. I got demoted, and I was already at the bottom of the totem pole.” Paige never looked away from Eddie, her gaze unflinching and sharp. “I stopped liking music.”

Guilt washed over Eddie, and there was something in him that screamed at him to run away to avoid this. Being the reason someone stopped liking music? He knew he’d fucked up but that... that was something deeper than just missing an audition.

“They didn’t have the means to really fire me, I hadn’t done anything wrong.” she continued. “They moved me to a smaller label under the WR name. That label was where acts they had given up on went to die.”

“Which label?” Eddie managed to ask, despite how dry his mouth felt. Even the water wasn’t helping.

“Left Turn Media.” Paige said.

During those weeks when things had been good between the two of them, Paige had mentioned the label once or twice. It was considered a death sentence to be put on that label, and working for them was WR’s way to get people to quit without firing them. The two had listened to a few cassettes from the label. The bands weren’t bad, and that was what stuck out to Eddie. The music wasn’t bad, but it was clear that the production was lacking and half-assed. Paige said that the music would be sent out to small radio stations to be played in the middle of the night.

“Shit.” Eddie said.

“Yeah, shit.” Paige let out a laugh. “But if there’s one thing I am, it’s stubborn. I threw myself into my work. I’ve been spending the last two years breaking down and completely reassembling Left Turn, and now I’m in charge of it.”

“You.” His eyes went wide as he stared at her. “You’re in charge of Left Turn Media.”

“It’s amazing what you can do when you’re pissed and have something to prove.” Paige shrugged. “I had a lot of time to think about my relationship with music in the last few years. I realized if I wanted to bring something real to the music scene of L.A. I was going to have to do it myself.”

Her dark lips curled up into a smile. “I should almost thank you for fucking up. Because you bailed, I was put in charge of a sinking ship. I patched it up with my own time and money and now Left Turn has become the label for all misfit bands who don’t fit any shiny polished label. I proved to myself and everyone around me that I belong in this industry.”

“I-” Eddie wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond to that. “You’re welcome...?”

“We’re expanding the label outside of California.” She continued. “I’m in charge so I’m trying to bring good music to my hometown. It’s still not the biggest label, and we can’t offer half of what the bigger labels would, but it’s something.”

“And what are you offering?” Eddie felt dizzy, the more she talked. His words were careful, as if asking the wrong question could end in another blow up between the two of them.

“What I’m offering is another chance for Corroded Coffin to be signed.” Paige’s arms crossed over her chest. “Left Turn is still finding its footing outside of L.A., so we’re flexible. I’m here to work with local radio and college stations around Indiana to get them to play the few bands we’ve signed so far. Who we have are okay, but they aren’t...”

“Real?”

“Eddie you have something, as much as I never wanted to admit it again after what happened between us. There’s something about the way that you play that I haven’t been able to find since. I could do this without you, but I think that this is the real sink or swim moment. WR Records goes on with or without you, but I think what you have is what could turn Left Turn around.” Page took a deep breath. “If Corroded Coffin wants another shot, this would be it. If you still have that do-or-die energy when you play, I could offer you a real deal to put together an album. I could get you on the radio.”

Eddie listened to her words, taking in what she was offering. Yes, it wouldn’t be the easy street that WR would have been able to offer, but it would be something. And this time, it wouldn’t just be him auditioning, but Corroded Coffin was wanted this time.

“You’re serious.” Eddie said, his heart rate picking up.

“As serious as shooting a cop.”

“Jesus.” Eddie couldn’t stop himself from letting out a laugh. He ran his fingers through his hair, messing up his fringe as he replayed everything that Paige had just told him in his mind. She wanted him to audition again. This was a chance that he wasn’t sure could be passed up.

“Some of the band is still in high school.” He said, feeling reality settle like a stone in his stomach. He didn’t mention that his name was on that roster.

“Like I said, we’re flexible.” Paige said. “I still need you all to audition again, and even then it’s going to take me a few months to set anything up here for the band. I want you all to audition with me and a few others from the label before the end of the year. If everything goes according to plan, Left Turn might have the recording studio ready by next June.”

“You’re setting up your own recording studio?” Eddie perked up, the anxiety and guilt that he had originally felt was now shifting into something new. He found himself relaxing enough to eat his overpriced sandwich.

“Yes. We need something that’s a step above Live Mike Studios in Lafayette. We have the building picked out and are already gutting it for Left Turn.”

“You’ve really thought of everything, haven’t you?” Eddie smiled at her.

“I have.” Paige agreed. “But I learned not to put all my eggs into one basket. This industry has taught me to have a plan A, B C, and D.” She let out a long sigh. “I made it to plan L before and I would prefer not to do that again.”

“What was plan L?”

“If I go into the whole story, I’ll need a strong drink. It involved a guitar player with his head up his ass thinking he was going to be the next Gene Simmons.” Paige groaned.

“Gene Simmons doesn’t play guitar.” Eddie pointed out. Paige gave him a thousand yard stare, which said everything he needed to know. “Ok. Gotcha.”

“I’m hoping to get everything set up with minimal surprises.” She concluded. “Get with your band. I’m going to be in town for the rest of the year setting things up.”

Eddie nodded. “So... why Indiana?” he asked. “You were in California. Why come back here to set this up?”

“Like I said, I want to bring good music to my hometown. Once everything’s done, I’ll be able to move back and forth from California to here.”

“And Corroded Coffin?”

“Will stay in Indiana.” She said firmly. “I can’t turn you into the Rock Hero you could have been two years ago, but I can try and make you a Hometown Hero.”

Another story. Paige had always been good at spinning stories. Once upon a time, Eddie had been a barback turned frontman turned Rock Hero. Now he’d be barback turned frontman turned Hometown Hero. That part felt less believable than before.

That’s how Paige saw him, but how did he see himself? Barback turned front man turned drug thief turned drug dealer turned uber senior? None of that was a story worth selling. And what about the rest of his band? Would Gareth, Jeff, or Zack want to be part of this? Ronnie hadn’t, she just wanted to play just to play. Jeff had been excited about this when the opportunity was first presented, but would he still want the chance? Gareth was the youngest and still had over a year of school left.

One thing at a time.

“I’ll talk to the guys next practice.” Eddie said.

“Good. Are you still playing at the Hideout?” Paige asked.

Eddie froze for a second, as he imagined Paige and you in the same space to watch him play. He imagined your excited face, and the way you would cheer for them after every song, the excitement that radiated off of you after every set. Even earlier this week, when you’d dropped by to watch them, knowing that Eddie was going to see Paige, you’d still shown the same enthusiasm as before.

He’d thrown you another pick. You’d handed it back to him at the end of the night, telling him that he could toss it at you again next week.

“You look like someone who loses your picks the second they are out of your sight.”

You’d been right. The only one he could consistently find was the one he’d turned into a necklace. His dad’s picks had been packed away, shoved under his bed where he wouldn’t see them. Eddie didn’t use those picks anymore.

A few weeks ago, he couldn’t stop comparing you to Paige, but now he couldn’t stop thinking about how different you two were.

“Yeah, we play on Tuesdays now.” Eddie said. “People stopped complaining enough that Bev decided to give us a steady slot.”

“Good to know.” Paige said. She wasn’t confirming or denying if she’d show up, but that look in her eyes said that he could expect to see her again soon.

After all, The Hideout was the only place in twenty miles of Hawkins that offered any live music.

For the rest of the meal, the two caught up with each other. It didn’t feel as weird as Eddie would have expected, but it was nice. He let Paige do most of the talking, letting her tell him about her work in the industry, he didn’t need her knowing more than she needed to if he wanted to have this shot. Would she want to sign a bunch of high schoolers? He hadn’t even told Paige the first time that he had dropped out when Higgins blackmailed him.

That was alright for now though. Paige talking meant that he didn’t have to and he added to the conversation by asking plenty of questions about her work. Hearing about the music industry from her end was something that he had a genuine interest in, anyway.

Paige told him about how she had been given a copy of Iron’s Maiden’s Live After Death by Davey. She was even willing to make Eddie a copy of it. It wasn’t the video, but he wasn’t about to turn down audio of one of his favorite bands that wasn’t even released in the US.

When the check came, Paige didn’t even blink as she paid the tab and the two of them made their way outside again. It was still pretty early in the afternoon, and the chill of the late autumn air contrasted the bright blue sky.

Trying to still be somewhat of a gentleman, Eddie walked Paige to her car as she recounted the tale of how she had been on the flight from Indianapolis to Los Angeles where Izzy Stradlin had been arrested for pissing in front of everyone.

Paige stopped with her hand on the door to her car before turning around to face Eddie before getting in.

“I don’t hate you, you know.” she said. “I was mad for a really long time at what you did. But I don’t think you’re a bad guy, Eddie.”

Eddie didn’t feel like he deserved the forgiveness she was offering him. Being told that he was anything other than some satanic cult leader or freak wasn’t something he’d ever get used to.

“Paige I...” He wasn’t sure what to say.

She had that look in her eyes, the same look she’d had after she’d given him the news about his original audition. What are you waiting for? Paige was moving closer, freckles like constellations on her skin and the moon in her eyes eclipsed by her eyelids.

Eddie's hand fell on Paige’s shoulder before her lips could get any closer to his. “I can’t.” he said.

Her face went through a few emotions. Surprise, disappointment, and settling on embarrassment.

“Shit. Sorry.” Paige said, shaking her head.

“No it’s.. It’s fine.” Eddie said, and he could have sworn that Paige looked just as confused as he did. “I don’t think it’s a great idea to do.... That.”

Eddie hadn’t once entertained the idea of Paige and him together again. It didn’t feel right. He wouldn’t lie and say that he didn’t find her attractive, but it wasn’t the same feeling he got that first night in the Hideout. As a teen, he’d been thrilled that a pretty girl was paying any attention to him at all, and was willing to do anything and be anything she wanted.

Any relationship with Paige was business, plain and simple. She wanted a Rock Hero to help her get up the ladder, Eddie wanted to make it with his band. Sex had just been a bonus in their past relationship. Paige knew her stuff with music and the industry, but she didn’t rant about Ozzy and his bats, or have a real interest in D&D or put herself out there the same way that you-

“I’m seeing someone.” He blurted out before Paige could say anything else.

Paige looked surprised for a moment and shook her head and laughed. “Right. That... I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I did that.” she admitted. “I guess I got swept up in this stupid fantasy about being a power couple. We’re a bad idea.”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie said, not sure what else could be said in this situation.

“Don’t be. You’re right, ‘us’ is a bad idea.” she ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s a good thing my offer isn’t dependent on if we’re sleeping together or not.”

“I know you bought me lunch, are giving my band a second chance, and forgave me for one of the biggest fuck ups of my life, but I don’t put out that easy.” Eddie smiled at her, trying to lighten the mood.

Paige offered her hand and Eddie took it. “Business only then.” she said. “Talk to your band and call me to set up the audition.”

Eddie watched Paige’s car drive off, and suddenly felt a lot lighter. He blasted his music and drove home, nearly laughing like a maniac. Today had been a wild roller coaster of emotions, and he couldn’t wait until the next band practice to bring the news to his band.

At home, he grabbed his guitar and immediately began sorting through Corroded Coffin’s small pile of original songs, and the covers that they were able to perform the best. Eddie was off, lost in his own world as he wrote, re-wrote, and re-worked the set list.

What would you think? Would you be excited for him? If this worked, he was going to make sure to get you concert tickets. Okay, he was getting ahead of himself. Maybe you could at least come for the audition as moral support. His band liked you, so maybe they wouldn’t mind.

Eddie didn’t come back down to Earth until the phone rang that evening after Wayne went to work. He almost missed the call because of how deep he was into perfecting the riff that had eluded him for the past few months, determined now more than ever to get it down.

He reached the phone on the last possible ring. “Hello?”

“Hey... Eddie?” Your voice cracked over the phone, and that feeling of excitement came crashing down. “Sorry I... Can you come pick me up? I’m at home.”

You were crying. He could hear it in the way your voice strained and cracked. He was already reaching for his keys.

“I’ll be right there.”

a/n: As I stated before, I do like to try and keep everything as time accurate as possible. However things happen, and sometimes things are too good not to use. The Izzy Stradlin incident did not happen until 1989, but the fact that it was on a flight from Indianapolis to LA was too good to pass up. I also would like to notate that I did make a mistake when it came to the Ozzy Bat Incident. It was not a 17 year old girl, it was a 17 year old boy and the bat was already dead. Chalk that inaccuracy up to the tabloids of the time, and the lack of Google. No, this will not be addressed in the future of the fic unless it’s funny.

Dividers By: @strangergraphics

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @siriuslysmoking @huffledor-able541 @pookiesnatcher @eddiesguitarskills @browneyes-8288 @sheneedsrocknroll92

#nacht fic #wing man #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you

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lightlycareless · 7 months ago

Note

omgggg, that Toji x reader (*plus* Naoya) was incredibleee, ignore me if you want, I know you made Toji chosing to keep distance from reader and Megumi permanently BUT what if one day he ends up finally seeing Megumi, either personally or by pictures/videos 🥺 We know Megumi it's the spitted image of him, I mean, Gojo's face when he saw him for the first time said it all 😅 And also knowing his baby has the Ten Shadows technique (I cant stop thinking about how proud he was in the canon manga/anime 🥺 he always KNEW from the start Megumi was blessed/gifted, since his first breath, the fact Toji named him is not random) making the entire Zenin clan eat their shit

Heya anon!!

I'm so glad you liked it heheheheheheh a oneshot that I didn't intend to write but it just happened!! aren't we glad it did? lol

I didn't mean to ignore you, I was only focusing on other things first 😅 oof, I still have lots of request to go through, which I plan to do it slowly but surely...

Anyways, I might've not gone down that route, however... why not something angsty? I mean 😏I've had this in my mind so... yeah 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Warnings: mentions of infidelity. Pregnancy. Naoya is, unfortunately, a prick. this is the oneshot anon is talking about. 100% read that first hehe. this is an AU from that, so the second part doesn't count??? I guess. excuse the proofreading. also I haven't written toji that much so please excuse my oocness as well ahahahahha :')

Happy reading!

As much as the three hoped to ignore the bases of your pregnancy, behave as it didn’t rise from an adulterous act, a direct transgression to the principles of the Zen’in, and keep it a secret, it wouldn’t take long before the guilt in each other’s mind began to weight heavy on their mind, ultimately betraying them and revealing the truth to the light, excusing the angered elders to finally get rid of two birds with one stone.

“Where—Where does this accusation even come from?!” You gasp, blood turning cold at the implication—at the notion of the truth. “Do you know the gravity of such words?!”

“Better than you of the act, it seems.” Another accuses. “We were quite aware of the rumors surrounding your ill-fitting behavior, but we never believed it would actually extend to this point!”

“I—I won’t tolerate neither of you disrespecting me!” you cry. “Nor will Naoya for that matter!”

But calling for his aid would no longer prove sufficient, for Naoya, too deep in his own insecurities by that point, had come to the disheartening conclusion that this situation had gotten way out of hand for a simple diversion.

A supposed act of mercy.

He shouldn’t have let this happen in the first place, should’ve respected what you and your marriage represented, what meant to him, and discard his pity for Toji—the man has been alone most of his life, what difference would that make that now?

But he didn’t, he allowed you to go to Toji—no, he handed you over to him, thinking he was doing something right for his cousin, or perhaps something deep inside him was allured by the sick idea of you being with another man and now, he was suffering the consequences.

Consequences he did not like, not one bit—because it got too real for him: you were now pregnant, with Toji’s child, and not his.

And this only highlighted what he considered the pitfalls of this relationship, a strike against his ego and the supposed inability to beget children, a rumor that grew bigger and bigger by each passing day, spreading like wildfire to the point where even outsiders became aware of it.

Which, for a prideful man like Naoya, was only a nightmare.

He loved you, he really did—Naoya never envisioned spending the rest of his life with anyone else…

But he loved his pride more, and when his clan began to actively confront him about it, he couldn’t take it anymore.

And thus….

“…Naoya?”

“This marriage was broken before it even started.” Your husband would say, unexpected words that pierced straight to your heart. “My family advised me well in avoiding you, but I falsely believed I could achieve differently.”

“What—what are you even saying?” you breathe. “What do you mean by—by differently?”

And… where does everything you lived with him stand?

The time you spent with him, the sweet nothings he’d whisper into your ear, to love you both swore to one another, reminding each other that there was no one else that compares…

And that you were the only woman who has ever made him feel this way—loved— and would do everything in the world to make happy…

Was it… all … a lie?

All for… nothing?

Or were you the only one that actually believed the other’s words?

“I cannot look past these transgressions.” Naoya continues. “You’ve left me no choice.”

“But you—you made me do this!” you gasp. “I never—I never wanted to be with anyone else! All this time, my heart only belonged to you! How could you—how could you abandon me after all we’ve gone through together?!”

Naoya doesn’t say anything else anymore, instead, he simply turns around, exiting the room to leave you in the hands of the vengeful elders who did not hesitate to do what they had long desired—banish you from the estate.

Swiftly yet cruelly, you wouldn’t be able to take anything with you, not even a change of clothes or even money (you didn’t even ask for much, just enough to survive the week) as you were forced to face a new life of your own—alone, pregnant.

Going back to your family was also out of the question; the shame that you’d bring upon their name was one the Zen’in didn’t not waste time to remind them of—at the end, there was only so much your father and siblings could do against the invasive ways of the elders, and perhaps, a part of them deep inside, were also disappointed that you’ve succumbed to such foul thing.

And so, you were tossed onto the street, with nothing more than the clothes you were wearing, whatever you had for savings throughout the years, managed to take it out before either clan could close your account—but most importantly, with a broken heart you believe will never heal, not after the grave wound your husband’s indifference inflicted on it.

The pain you couldn’t even mourn properly due to all the things you had to worry about now.

The first thing you did was search for a place to stay, though getting one was proving to be an almost impossible task.

Thankfully, you were allowed to keep one other thing, maybe it eluded their minds when all this was happening, but you’re not going to question why when it was going to help you pay for a roof.

Naoya’s ring, your wedding ring, was something many would consider expensive, the kind of flashiness expected from a prestigious family like the Zen’in.

You remember a time when any kind of ring would’ve been enough for you to marry him. You didn’t need anything extraordinary to commit your life and heart to him.

That’s nothing but a far cry from what you felt now.

It still hurt to pawn it, but it was the only way you could accommodate yourself and the unborn child inside you, in the only area you could afford with what you got, for even then many suspected that your ring… well, had dubious origins.

When was the last time you even had to worry about the costs of living? Food, clothes, water…?

Many years—it had to; ever since you got together with Naoya, he’s been the one that took care of you.

You just had to say the word and he’d disappear all of your worries—even from the simplest of wants, Naoya indulgingly obliged.

It was a happy life you eventually considered for your child—imagining how happy they’d grow to be without a single worry, solely focusing on what they’ll have to play that day, or how to escape their over doting parents.

A long-gone dream, tossed to the side as a nightmare quickly took its place.

…

Did Naoya ever mean the words I love you?

Or was he doing all this just to keep you there, complying, just in case someone better came along, just like his clan wished would happen?

There mere thought of his devotion being nothing but an act tightens your heart with sorrow once more, gifting you the tragic notion that perhaps, all this time, you never knew your husband…

Maybe ex-husband, by this point.

All that was left from those moments, the slightest semblance of that marriage was this baby, created from what you thought your unconditional devotion to him, turning out to be your very own downfall.

The only one that would know of these struggles would be your baby, the one to accompany you through the darkest point of your life, hopefully to a brigther dawn.

And yet… you’ve never felt so alone.

Time surprisingly, went quicker than you anticipated, though not as easy as you would’ve wanted.

Life in your new home was still very difficult to get used to, even when it’s been months since… that.

But with the job you managed to get (whatever place hired pregnant women—they’re supposed to be at home, some would say, you didn’t care.) and some extra jujutsu work you did on the side, you managed, enough to give you a, not exactly comfortable, but just enough lifestyle.

As long as you sacrificed all the things you once considered granted and turned them into luxuries: such as warm showers, take out, and the sweets you liked to indulge once in a while; your pregnancy has been horrible because of that, and that’s without considering the medical bills you’re struggling to pay as well.

But if that wasn’t enough, your noisy neighbors presented issues of their own as well.

You’re not going to deny that your presence there was like moths to a flame, starting from your somewhat suspicious acquisition—all cash—of the small house you were living in.

From there, your loneliness, alongside your pregnancy; single mothers were unheard of, or rather, highly criticized, thus, all eyes were on you, down to your smallest movement.

Yet, even then, as annoying as they were, you were ok as long as it meant you never get to see those that hurt you ever again.

However, what you want isn’t necessarily what’s going to happen, and that would be reminded of one fateful night with an unsuspecting knock, just after you were getting ready to go to bed.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone came to bother you, but it would be the first time someone did so at this hour, and with such insistence that far from worrying you, it made you angrily storm at the entrance, ready to demand who’d be so inconsiderate enough to visit you so late at night!

And you’d get your answer soon enough, in the most shocking, horrifying, if not sorrowful manner you could’ve possibly anticipated, prompting you to close the door as soon as you saw his face, or attempted to, his reflexes much faster than yours.

“Get—get away from me!” you shrieked, hands trembling as you did your best to hold the door shut against his overwhelming strength— but even your husband has admitted that in terms of power, he excels like no one else.

“Y/N—” he breathes, somewhat amused that you’d been able to hold him off as much as you could, though eventually he was able to break free from your grasp and enter your home, you step away from him soon after.

“What are you even doing here?!” you gasp. “No—that doesn’t matter! I don’t want to see you! I’m not going back!”

“I’m not here to take you back” He quickly responds, eyes falling down to your stomach, making his face soften at the subtle bump evident through your clothes—with this sight, he knows he can’t take you back.

“Then—then why are you here, Toji?”

Perhaps Toji needed to see through his own eyes, what the whispers went on about at the estate regarding your absence.

He wasn’t there when it happened, promised himself to be far away from you as soon as your pregnancy was announced to the estate.

Toji would’ve normally taken this opportunity to act on retribution against his family, rub it on their face that the future of the clan came from him, a low life.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do so when you cheerfully paraded around the halls, happy to finally be forming a family with your beloved husband, even though it wasn’t of his making.

For the first time in his life, he thought himself to be too cruel for having planned such atrocities against the only person that has never been rude with him, always welcoming him with a smile on your face, or at least whatever you permitted when not following Naoya around like a lost puppy.

And the baby… well, he won’t deny that he was glad that his child would have a vastly different life from his—with you as his mother, it couldn’t be any other way.

Or so he believed.

Even when promising to keep away, he still attempted to check in on you, especially now that you were pregnant, whenever he had to go to the estate that is. That day was no be no exception, begrudgingly coming back to see what else he could scam out of his family to ensure his living outside.

Toji’s slyly scanned the hallways for your figure, the briefest indication of such, either through your giggle, staff, or even his cousin’s annoying voice—there were moments where he imagined how delightful it must’ve been to have you by his side, instead of Naoya’s; to be receiver of your laughter instead of that man who clearly didn’t deserve you.

But even if it was with him, he still found comfort in the fact that you were around, there.

Not like now, gone from Naoya’s side.

In fact, you were nowhere to be seen! Not with your staff, not eating by the gardens, or even indulging in one of your husband’s idiocies.

Nothing.

And no one had seen you either.

Or more like didn’t want to say, that much became evident when he stomped his way towards a nearby staff member, demanding your whereabouts, only to be responded with a fret falsely feigning ignorance, or foolish diplomacy.

At the prospect of your disappearance, Toji felt his blood run cold, almost like the estate lost whatever little warmth it had, worsening each time he asked another servant, and he’d get the same answer.

The implications behind your absence were growing heavier in his mind, to the point it sunk his heart to his stomach…

And propelled him to the one person who would undoubtedly know where you were.

“Naoya—Where is Y/N?!” Toji commands the moment he sees the heir, the young man instinctively flinched at the sight of his angered cousin, almost as if he knew what was running through his mind and attempted to make a run for it, only to be stopped by the collar, dead on his tracks. “Do not run away, coward! Answer me!”

“She’s—she’s not here anymore.” Is what Naoya manages to squeak, but Toji doesn’t need to be reminded the obvious.

“Where. Is. She.” He hisses, the worst of his assumptions slowly becoming a reality. “What have you done to her?!”

“What—what needed to be done!” Naoya gasps. “I—I couldn’t allow it!”

Toji doesn’t remember much after Naoya told him that the clan decided she was better off on her own—only that the heir was on the floor, bloodied and whimpering while attempting to cover his face, either trying to control the throbbing of his skin, the blood from spilling anywhere else, or perhaps even shame.

No. It couldn’t be the last. To have done something like what he did required a shameless man to do so.

Nonetheless Toji didn’t bother to find out nor to be reprimanded, quick to assert what needed to be done and heading out the estate; he couldn’t even bother cursing those that had done nothing but the worst after the worst, each time a new low, for his mind solely pertained in finding you.

It took him a while to do so, as expected, but he knew it was only a matter of asking around for a woman that simply didn’t fit to do the job—and such, here he is now.

“I want—needed to see you.” Toji takes a step closer.

“Get—get away from me.”

“No, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“You were fine doing that before—what’s so different from now?” You spat.

“This is different, Y/N. You’re alone—and you need me.”

“I’m not alone—I don’t need you.” You gasp. “Get away from me or I’ll—I’ll call the police!.”

“If you don’t need me, then the baby does.”

It’s like he struck a nerve with his words, because soon after tears would begin to fall down your cheeks, revealing that the sight you attempted to portray, the strength you so fiercely put up against him, was nothing but a façade, a way to hide the fact that indeed, you needed help.

Exhausted from facing all these uncertainties on your own, afraid.

But not anymore, not when Toji was here, more than willing to step in, as seen in the way he swiftly holds you in his arms when he sees you almost faint from distress, attempting to comfort you as you continued to cry.

“Get— get away from me…!” you’d say again, still fighting against his hold. However, he doesn’t fight it, he simply allows you to vent, taking in all the pain and hatred your heart harbored from the moment you were kicked out of the estate. “Don’t touch me!”

“I’m not leaving” Toji insists, he feels you trying to squirm your way out from him, but his strength doesn’t allow it. “You can struggle all you want, but I’m not leaving you on your own—”

“What difference does it make to you? Your family abandoned me to my luck! And even forced my family to do the same!” you breathe, Toji’s eyes widen—he did not know that; his fury for the Zen’in grows, but this is not the time to deal with that. “They don’t care if I die on the street!”

“I know.” He murmurs, holding you tighter against him.

“And I—And I tried my best to—to move on, but I can’t! I can’t do it!” you sob. “I’m so alone, and scared, and—and ashamed! I don’t want to live like this anymore!! I don’t want to die!”

“…I know.”

“Why—why is this happening to me?! All I ever wanted was for—was for Naoya to love me. I never wanted anything else! I never wanted money, I never wanted to hurt anyone either! I just—I just wanted to live a happy life with him, to make him happy!

But then he—he tossed me away, at one thing he didn’t like, he acted like I didn’t even matter! He didn’t even put up a fight to defend me! he just—he just let them hurt me, like what we had was—a lie!

Did he never—did he even love me?”

Speechless, all Toji could do is continue holding you as you kept on pouring out your feelings, hearing the heart wrenching sound of your sobs that just kept reflecting how wounded you were by Naoya’s betrayal, the transgressions of his family, and the disappointment of yours.

And all because of something you didn’t even suggest in the first place. It was him who made his way into Naoya’s mind, and eventually, it was Naoya who pushed you into it, regardless of what happened later.

He wanted to do it; you know?

He wanted to go back there and murder them for all they’d done against you.

But when he left that place one last time, he promised he would stop thinking about himself, and start doing what is right—what was needed.

If Naoya wasn’t to step up and be a man, then he would.

Toji would gladly throw away his own pride, his own anger and thirst for vengeance, just to see you safe and happy once more.

Things your husband, could simply not—but he… he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“I promise you.” Toji would reassure you once carefully placing you down to the bed after tiring yourself from crying, followed by a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“I swear, Y/N— I will not let my family do the same things they’ve done to me to our child. Even if it costs me my life, I will do everything in my power to keep the two of you safe.”

And unlike your husband, he means it.

Yes, a second part is coming :) just gotta put this one out first hehe.

Anyways, it's not exactly what you asked but I think it's going there??? I mean Toji STEPPED UP and was like OK imma take care of my baby mama. also, here Naoya .I. put it where it fits. ugh, can't say we're done with him...

agihajkgksa I'm excited for what's to come, I haven't written this level of angst in a while!! oof!!!

Thank you so much for your patience and for sending this ask :> I'm super happy you've like my oneshot so much!! I hope you'll be able to like this too!!

Take care, and see you soon! ❤️❤️

#ask #toji x reader #jjk toji #naoya x reader #naoya zen'in #toji fic #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk angst #toji zenin #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #toji x y/n #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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kurosstuff · 9 months ago

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Lute x fallen! Reader: Fallen pt2

Summary: lute finally got the chance to see you again- but was it worth it?

Warnings: arguments, miss communication(lite refusing to fully explain herself/be true), violence. Reminiscing, blood- detailed? Ish, one mention of sex, idk what else

A/N: I hope I wrote her well?

Seeing you again made Lute- panic- even though it was a glimpse? It made her feel things she didn't even know what to call it-

She was pacing around her training room, trying to steel her mind. Make her warm heart cold. But she can't. Her moral self fully blames you for this. But- she blames herself for feeling- after all? How could you be blamed for what her selfish heart wants?

You.

Her fist stopped before punching the demon dummy before sighing. Flapping her wings slowly to stretch, looking over at the picture she hid(that Adam was aware of? But allowed) of her and you - the day of the fall. Frowning, she went up to it - she didn't even look like herself. With how soft she looked at you - how her wing wrapped around you with her arm on your waist. Her scowl deepened as if she looked sick at the picture. That wasn't her.

That was a woman in love.

The meeting was dragging on - way to long. So Lute wandered out seeing how the other executioner was by Adam's side so? It should be fine. Walking around this pathetic hotel sneering at the sight. There's no way a sinner COULD be a winner.

She'd laugh, and HAS laughed in the princess's face for that dream. But deep down, she only wished it to be true for one specific sinner. A fallen. Glancing around, she grumbled behind her mask. Seething how dare that thought come to her mind? Why is she? An executioner thinking this.

Lute is inlove with a demon.

The thought sickens her - sure it was fine when you were an angel. In Heaven- sure, she still had no clue what she felt. Now-? She can't entertain the thought. Stopping, footsteps came behind her- she twirled her spear in her hand quickly moving to strike before stopping almost hitting the demons neck

"Its you" she snarled out glaring you down behind her mask but- she couldn't help the flush across her face- even now as a demon you are just as gorgeous as the day she met you- if not more. Given how free you seemed "what the fuck do YOU want"

You smiled that same one she dreamed of seeing - the one that helped keep her sane as she fought - trained, trying to forget you. But she couldn't forget your smile. Like it haunted her "to see you Lute~ i.. missed you"

"Why the hell would you betrayer?" Snarling at that- putting her spear away, ignoring how she longed to say how she missed you as well. Her heart hurt - burned at that - at your voice. "You made your choice. Picked the demons now you want to see me? What a fucking joke. Your a fool if you believe this changed things. Thatd id miss you"

Grinning as if her words had no effect on you - you shrugged. "Guess I'm a fool then~' her temper- her grumpy self never truly bothered you even in heaven- as if? You always knew what she wanted to say "i.. wanted to say. I'm sorry for leaving you alone-"

"If you truly meant that you wouldn't have done what you did." She quickly cut you off before sighing, looking around and against her own rules if this event would ever happen - against the rules above all together, she grabbed your arm, shoving you into a room alone.

Ignoring the teasing comment, you sent her way glaring at you, making you shut up. "Stay away from the hotel. Stay away from the city. I don't give a SHIT where you go. But you fucking stay away you STAY hidden" she snarled holding your shirt

Seeing your confused face she sighed "why? Why can't I? MY friends are here. I can't just leave them.' You grumbled out not at all worried about her this close- this angry. You knew she'd never actually hurt you- no matter what occurred the day you fell. She'd never purposely do it

"I'd have to kill you. Execution day is coming. I can't save you. I can't keep you fucking SAFE. You will die." She snarled in your face getting so close- feeling your breath hit her lips- oh how she does wish to kiss you- do the thing she's always dreamed of. But she won't. NOT like this.

Not with how Lute? The most loyal executioner. The guard of heaven herself betrayed them to warn and protect a demon. What a vile thing she's done. Taking a deep breath, she ignored you, calling for her. To come back.

Lute stormed off

They day of the fight was like any other- fighting through the city of those sinful vile demons. Lute in her cold Killer state mercilessly slaughtered any demon her way coated head to toe in their blood no one was safe from her grasp-

Stepping close, Lute sneered down at a demon "please- dont- dont kill me, I'll do anything! Want money? Drugs - sex?" Snarling without a word stabbed the demons through their chest ending that vile fucks life

"Disgusting. No wonder you're in hell." Hissing out "begging for your life in such a sickening way after what you did it your mortal life?" Staring in disgust before amongst the chaos - amongst the screams of the demons dying and the exterminators' deaths - Lute stopped paling looking over her blood ran cold.

She saw you.

Racing over, she begged herself to catch you - she ripped the angel. Begging to save you- she didn't care about the dynamic - she didn't care. you were a demon, and how she's an angel- she WILL save you "GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF THEM-" ripping the angel off of you punching her as she took a protective stance over you bloodied spear in hand looking more freaked out hissing out "YOU DONT FUCKING HURT THEM. TOUCH THEM. DONT YOU DARE-"

Staring at angel down, watching her fly off sighing, knowing how she fucked up- knowing how she will get punished but- glancing back seeing your flushed face staring in awe at how Lute chose you. Made it all worth it in the end

"Don't get used to this," she hissed out, staring you down, cutting you off - refusing to let you thank her for this. "Don't even fucking say that ok?" Kneeling down to you checking the injury on you

"You..saved me?" Was all you could whimper out watching as Lute willingly taking care of the gash on your arm - a demons arm. Not wincing nor sneering - being uncharacteristically gentle with even you. "..but why?"

Huffing, she glared you down, grumbling at the back of her throat flushed, ignoring the signal for her immediate return. "..of course I fucking saved you. Why wouldn't I save you? My dove?" She whispered out, looking at you with those soft eyes behind her mask- shed only gave you. Never to your face, but when you weren't looking. Sighing, she stood up, straightening her mask. "Get out of town. I may not be able to save you again, " ignoring the now burning sensation from how Adam now demanded her return right then and there

"Better get going angel~ i-.. stay safe up there, Ok?" You whispered, smiling brightly, making her chest hurt in an odd way. A special one only she got to see- a odd sense of pride filled her.

Nodding, she backed up, huffing softly unable to speak the words she wished to say before turning and flying off up into the sky. Knowing this isn't gonna end well.

Love definitely changed people- no matter who they were or what they believed in before huh? Lute couldn't help but find it humorous.

#hazbin lute #hazbin hotel lute #lute x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n

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livesworthlivingau · 5 months ago

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Behind the Vale Chapter 7-10

ISAT/Two Hats Spoilers, CW: Implied Suicidal Thoughts

[You walk… You've been walking for days… Your feet are sore, you legs feel like they're on fire. Your stomach aches… You thought you might be looping at first, until you remembered what hunger was… You haven't had the need for food, or water, or sleep for so long… You'd forgotten what all of that felt like, and now you're painfully aware of all of it again. What would happen if you died anyways?... Would you both loop back?... Would you just be dead until he loops? You summon your dagger into your hand, stopping in your tracks and staring at it... Would you?... Could you, even?... You stare at the curved blade for longer than you realize.]

"CRAB!" [You hear a shout that snaps you out of it. You rush towards the sound of heavy thuds, leaves rustling, a shriek... a sadness?! You break through the tree line to see it, standing over a figure on the ground. Their hammer tossed to the side, holding a hand up defensively as it's just about to strike! NO!]

[The sadness freezes, stuck just before landing a blow on the figure... then fades away, revealing you behind it. Your eyes wide, panting heavily, dagger held at the end of a flourish... You look down at the figure. You start to lean forward to offer a hand up, before exhaustion takes over. Everything goes dark as you collapse.]

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

[Your vision slowly returns... You're on the ground, it's night time. The crackling of a fire fills your ears. The scent of wood burning, and broth boiling fill your lack of a nose. You feel a blanket covering your body, slipping down as you try to sit up.]

"Woah woah! Easy now, buddy!" [You hear to your side, noticing the dark skinned figure that had been sitting beside you. She gently pushes your weak form back to laying down. Her long hair in a braid that reaches the middle of her back. She's dressed in loose, breezy, coastal style clothing. Something about her feels oddly familiar...]

"You gotta get your strength back before you'll be up and at 'em again." [She instructs, taking a bowl and ladle to scoop some of the soup and bring it over to you. She hesitates...]

"Uhhh... How do you... eat?" [She asks, gesturing to her mouth, and clearly noting your lack of one. You just give a light roll of your eyes, sitting up slow enough that she'd allow it. You take the bowl and bring it to your face. It presses against your hidden lips and you pour it down your throat. The still steaming fluid burns your insides, but nowhere near as bad as a star once had. What does cause a sudden choke though is the taste. You'd forgotten what food tasted like... and if this was it you think you'd be better off not being reminded...]

"Heh... I know, I'm sorry, my sibling's the real chef. I can barely make cereal without screwing it up, but it's all I got right now and you're about to starve to death." [She remarks in a demanding tone. She's right, and you're so hungry it makes ignoring the taste easier, just pouring the rest of it directly down your throat and letting out a relieved, steaming sigh.]

"... Thank you..."

"Ah! So you can talk! Well thank you uhhh... Glowey person? If you hadn't come along when you did I don't know what would have happened." [You sit there in silence for a while until suddenly the sibling comment clicks.]

"Sibling?"

"Oh! Yeah! I'm looking for my little sibling. Their name's Bonnie, real little, looks a bit like me, wears a big poofy hat. They managed to get away when I got frozen, and apparently I heard they're travelling with the saviors themselves?! I've been trying to find them ever since I got unfrozen." [… This really is some sick, cosmic joke, isn't it?...]

"... You're... Nille. Petronille."

"Y-Yeah! How'd you... Wait, do you know them too?!"

"I... I travelled with them for a little while, they talked about you all the time." [Her face lights up with joy and awe, so happy to finally meet someone who actually knows about Bonnie instead of just rumors and tales.]

"That's wonderful! I can't believe my luck today! So what's your name anyways? I gotta know how to properly address my knight in shining face!" [She snickers to herself, holding out a hand to shake as a more formal introduction. You stare at it for a moment, your own approaches it almost in slow motion. You need a name... a real name... you can't just be 'wonderful little loop' anymore after all...]

"... I'm... Vale [They/Them]… It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Nille."

"Likewise, Vale!... Now if you don't mind me asking, what are you doing out here? You look like you've been running for a while..." [Her tone suddenly shifts. She recognizes something in you in this moment... and you start to recall some of the stories Bonnie had told you.]

[No-NO! You're getting too vulnerable, your mask is slipping... Get a hold of yourself Lo-... *ahem* Vale. You shake the pathetic look off your face, your strength starting to return with the soup in your system now. You give those bright cheery eyes you're so practiced in.]

"Oh you know~! Just went out for a stroll and got rather carried away~."

"... Riiiiight... Well, where 'ya headed? You know I'm looking for Bonnie but I don't exactly have the best idea where they're at. I got lucky with you twice already, maybe a third time'll happen if you'll let me join yah!" [You scream internally as you do your best to keep up your poker face.]

"O-Of course! I don't have a destination in mind yet, but how could I say no to the famous Nille!" [What are YOU DOING?! We are heading in the OPPOSITE direction!]

"Great! And don't worry, I'll pick up some food in the next town so you're not stuck at my cooking pot's mercy the whole time" [She laughed to herself, chipping in a slight chuckle of your own... Okay... Okay we can do this... Even if we do help her, who knows how long until we run into them all again? We'll feel Stardust nearby, we can just leave before they reunite! We get to be lovely helpful L-Vale and we don't need to see them all again... We can make this work...]

#lives worth living au #lwlau #isat au #isat spoilers #isat fanfic #isat #two hat spoilers #isat two hats #in stars and time fanfic #in stars and time spoilers #btvau #behind the vale

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dreamcubed · 11 months ago

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back to black | regulus black x reader

song; back to black [amy winehouse] pairing; regulus black x fem!gryffindor!half-blood!reader genre; s2l, angst, hurt comfort word count; 6,3k timeline; marauders' era warnings; swearing, implied child abuse, discrimination (of muggles and muggle-borns), references to war, references to death(s) summary; autumn was your favourite season of all time, and not even your lack of mother or friendships could ruin it for you. but, maybe a brooding boy in your year could

this took me fucking forever but here it is!! and a merry christmas to all who celebrate <33

masterlist

"you went back to what you knew."

————————————

Back to black.

Well, technically, as the first time you had only had black hair for a matter of hours before your mother scolded you for dyeing it and made you change it back. But, she was dead now, and you were about to enter the year of OWL exams at Hogwarts, so a change was well overdue.

You gazed down at your black-stained hands: the muggle way of hair dyeing had been the most spiteful way to do it. After all, your mother hated anything muggle, even though she was merely half-blood herself. Part of you suspected it was because your father was a muggle and broke her heart, but you would never be able to confirm that, since you knew nothing about the man.

With a sigh, you glanced into the mirror and observed the wet black mess on your head. It was certainly going to stain your forehead and neck.

"Fuckin' Azkaban," you murmured, noticing the stains all over the sink and floor. Maybe you should have just done it the magic way.

Well, the stains were nothing a little magic couldn't fix: you didn't care that you weren't seventeen yet, after all.

***

Quite honestly, you adored the fact that school started in Autumn, your absolute favourite season. Nothing hit the spot like a Jack O'Lantern spice latte, fresh from the kitchens of Hogwarts. You had discovered the secret entrance to it a few years back, and come by to make requests frequently.

You tightly held the warm drink as you hurried back to the Gryffindor common room before curfew hit, where no friends were waiting for you. You had always felt out of place in the red house, and had never successfully made a friend in it, let alone the other houses. They all had their distinctive groups, while you were simply an outcast. Nonetheless, you did love how Autumnal the Gryffindor colour scheme was.

Ignoring everyone who was still downstairs, you headed up to the dormitories, where you sat down on your bed and chewed on your lip for a few moments. You weren't sure what to do with yourself.

***

Regulus Black was the quiet and brooding boy in your potions, defence against the dark arts, transfiguration - and actually every class apart from divination. That didn't surprise you, as even though you had never spoken to him, he didn't strike you as a particularly spiritual man. All you really knew about him was that his older brother, the renowned Sirius Black, was in your house - and they did not get along.

He was the only person who you shared so many classes with, and that was the solitary reason that you had noticed him. Well, that and his strikingly powerful presence.

You wondered if he realised you shared so many classes together.

Probably not, though. To make up for your lack of friendships, you intensely observed the people around you, trying to pretend as if you knew them and could predict how a conversation would go with them. It was a fun game for someone so deprived as yourself, even more so when you somehow ended up in conversation with someone and got to find out how accurate in your predictions you were.

But you also loved when you were completely wrong about a person.

"A new hair colour, I see, Miss L/N," Professor McGonagall said to you as you entered the first transfiguration lesson of the year.

You nodded, "Felt I needed a change."

The witch gave you a pitiful look that made you sick to your stomach: you hated the fact that people felt the need to tread on egg shells around you because of your mother's death. You weren't upset about it - you hated the woman.

"Black suits you," she said simply, the very same second Regulus Black entered the room.

He looked up, clearly thinking his name had been called.

"Not you, Mr Black," McGonagall waved her hand dismissively, "I was referring to Miss L/N's new hair colour."

For the first time ever, you were pretty sure, Regulus Black looked in your direction and made eye contact with you. His cold grey eyes pierced through you, as if he suddenly knew every secret about you - which he didn't, you had read about legilimency and it didn't feel like that. Just as quickly as he looked at you, he looked away again, and took a seat at the back of the classroom.

You felt a shiver run up your spine - an itching, chilly sensation, that made you feel positively thrilled.

"Everyone, please take your seats," McGonagall said as the class filled up.

You looked around, noticing a few empty spots, but most prominently the space next to Regulus Black at the back of the room. Your feet were taking you towards it before your mind could kick into action, and even though you were convinced that he was glaring at you, you kept your eyes trained on to the professor as you sat down.

"This year in transfiguration, we will cover..."

McGonagall's voice faded into background noise as you became hyper aware of the boy's presence next you, whilst simultaneously doing everything in your power to make it seem like your attention was not on him but instead the lesson.

What had become of you?

***

Smudged eyeliner and a maroon knitted jumper, cold peppermint tea and torn parchment; your mind felt frantic yet empty, gazing out the window of the Gryffindor common room. Starless nights and rain against glass, blazing fire and crackling flames; you couldn't see anything outside, so you couldn't quite piece together why your eyes remained fixed on the blackness.

A sigh pushed through your lips, picking up the tea to take a sip - only for it to go down reluctantly, due to its chilly temperature. Had it really been that long since you zoned out?

Another sigh escaped you as you rose to your feet. You were the only person who remained in the Gryffindor common room, so you estimated that it was at least midnight. Definitely way too late to venture into the rest of the castle: if you cared about punishment, that was.

Pulling out your wand from your dark-washed jeans, you pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and muttered a soft, "Lumos," into the corridor. You anticipated the scream of the painted woman asking where you were headed at such an hour, but at the lack of you turned around and saw that she was presently vacated from her usual spot. Hopefully she would have returned by the time you got back.

You knew the way to the kitchens like the back of your hand, but you rarely took it so late, way past curfew. You were, of course, cautious. It would be insane not to be in an enchanted castle such as Hogwarts, which also happened to be haunted.

Your gut sensed another presence before any of your typical five senses did: lurching as it indicated that you were not alone. You quickly whispered, "Nox," and ducked into an alcove, focusing all your energy into your sense of hearing. Delicate - very delicate - footsteps. So faint you almost thought that you were hallucinating.

They stopped right by you, and you heard a soft breath.

Why did it sound so achingly familiar, yet not like any professor's?

"Who's there?"

Regulus Black.

You stepped out from the alcove and into the light of his wand, crossing your arms in the process. Regulus took one look at you and sighed.

"What do you want, Gryffindor?"

"I have a name," you muttered, "And I would like to think you know it."

He raised an eyebrow at you, and you scowled.

"I want nothing from you, Black, I merely thought you were a teacher."

He seemed to mull over your words for a few seconds, ultimately deciding that there was no way it was anything but the truth before saying, "Very well."

The question itched on your tongue. "What are you doing?"

In the dimmed light, you could only just make out the way he pressed his tongue into his cheek, a bit more aggressively than you would hope for.

"That's none of your concern."

You narrowed your eyes, "I'm pretty sure the last time someone said that, a girl ended up dead in the toilets."

"You-" Regulus cut himself off at the sound of loud, purposeful footsteps echoing down the hallway. He muttered, "Shit," before dimming his wand light and pulling you back into the alcove with him.

You held your breath as the footsteps increased in volume, almost unaware of your hand pressed against Regulus' abdomen, and his arm wrapped around your waist.

"Are you sure he was headed this way, Mrs Norris?" the unfortunate voice of Filch asked, followed by a scratchy meow.

You pursed your lips as the footsteps got quieter, only letting yourself breathe once there was complete silence again. Still, you and Regulus remained in position for a few more seconds.

"I think the coast is clear," you murmured.

"Hm? Oh, yeah," Regulus replied distractedly, slipping out of the alcove and letting his arm drop from your waist. You hadn't noticed the warmth that much, but you definitely noticed the lack of it.

"Guess Filch is on to you," you said, to fill the silence more than anything else - which was weird, as you had never been bothered by lack of conversation before.

"Bastard," Regulus replied. Maybe it wasn't a reply, but an unrelated yet relevant comment.

You lit your wand again, and turned to continue on your journey, "I'm going to the kitchens, in case you were wondering," you had hoped it would prompt him to admit to his activities, but he simply remained silent, "You can come if you want."

You had no explanation for adding that last part.

It was obvious that Regulus' first instinct had been to say no, but he must have come to the conclusion that there was really nowhere else to go while Filch was headed off on a rampage towards his original destination. So, he sighed instead, and began trailing behind you towards the fruit bowl portrait.

"Peppermint tea, Miss L/N?" the house elf nearest to you asked after you entered the magnificent kitchens, which were remarkably similar to the Great Hall.

"Actually, I think I'll take a hot chocolate, thank you," you replied, sitting down at the end of one of the four long tables. It was too late for your preferred latte, after all.

"And you, Mr Black?" another house elf asked.

It was evident that Regulus was startled that the creature knew his name, "Americano. Black, no sugar."

You weren't surprised at his request.

"Do you have a house elf?" you asked, as you knew that the Black family was pure-blooded and wealthy.

He gave a curt nod, which you took as a hint that he wasn't interested in conversation. Luckily, the house elves quickly whipped up the hot drinks and placed them in two forest green mugs in front of you.

To your surprise, he asked a question.

"How do you know about this place?"

You shrugged, "I followed the Marauders here one night."

Regulus drew back, and you realised then what a mistake mentioning the infamous quartet was: Sirius Black was clearly a sour topic.

Regardless, you still mumbled, "I think they knew I was there."

He chuckled dryly, "Probably."

"How are you gonna sleep?" you changed the subject, gesturing towards his steaming coffee.

"I won't."

You didn't press that matter further, either. But it was then that you noticed the dark circles under his eyes, sallow and zombie-like. Yet they suited him, enhanced his eery yet attractive looks, which was probably why you hadn't registered them before. They didn't appear out of place.

"Why don't you have a red mug?" Regulus asked, taking you by surprise. He was gazing at the wall display of mugs, sorted into the four house colours.

"Miss L/N doesn't like the red mugs," a house elf piped up, placing a tray of cookies in between the two of you.

"But it's your house colour."

You sipped slowly on your hot chocolate, stewing over the words you could potentially say. "I... don't like being a Gryffindor. I've never felt like I belonged."

"I don't like Gryffindors."

You scoffed, "Never would've guessed."

He raised an eyebrow.

"All Slytherins hate us."

"Yeah, because you're Dumbledore's favourite."

You shrugged.

"That and you allow mudbloods."

You paused in your movements, "So do Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, yet you don't go on a rampage against them."

"Point taken."

The school hot chocolate was delicious, you decided, and you should really have it more.

"What's your blood status?"

You shrugged, "Half-blood."

"I'm-"

"Pure-blood, I know," you sighed, "Even if the Black family weren't a so-called noble house, I would've guessed from your comments earlier."

He stared at you: a piercing, icy glare that almost made a shiver run up your spine. Almost.

"Do you really enjoy leading such a hateful life?"

His mouth parted, before he carefully swallowed and avoided eye contact, "It's not about hatred, it's about what's right."

"And what's right is abusing muggle-borns, even though they were born wizards and witches just like us?"

Regulus said nothing.

"I think that you need to stop taking Mummy and Daddy's word for what it is," you said mockingly, "You have your own brain, form your own opinions with it."

You watched his jaw clench.

"With that, I will bid you adieu," you said, picking up your hot chocolate and a few cookies, "See you tomorrow."

He didn't say goodbye to you as you left, and you didn't wait for him to.

***

Regulus watched you as you entered transfiguration the next day: you felt it before you saw his eyes glued on to you. You ignored his attentions, still sitting next to him but making no effort to engage in conversation. He made no effort either, eventually peeling his eyes away from you when McGonagall arrived to begin the lesson.

In fact, no words were exchanged between the two of you until the very end of the hour.

"I think you're wrong," he muttered.

You looked down at your parchment, furrowing your eyebrows at the answer that you were pretty sure was correct. "It's not animagi?"

"Not about that," he clarified, "About mudbloods."

You exhaled sharply through your nose.

"They aren't worthy."

"You're insufferable," you said quietly, "The existence of muggle-borns doesn't affect you, leave them alone."

"It affects the culture of wizards and witches, which affects me."

"Maybe the culture needs changing," you spat back, "Godric knows you do."

Regulus didn't reply, and you made no further attempt to talk to him.

Not for the rest of your time at Hogwarts.

***

APPROXIMATELY THREE YEARS LATER: 1979.

***

"I can't seem to face up to the facts..." you sung quietly along to the song as you gazed into the mirror of your bathroom.

"I'm tense and nervous and I can't relax..." it was playing from your record player in your bedroom, just through the open door to your right. Your graduation gift (to yourself) had been a record player, a very pleasant addition to the house that you had inherited from your mother. Especially as she hated all muggle items.

"I can't sleep 'cause my bed's on fire..." It was only three bedrooms, the third being so small it could hardly fit a twin bed in, but the master bedroom was decently sized and had an en suite. And, officially being the master of the house, that bedroom was now yours.

"Don't touch me, I'm a real live wire..." You were dyeing your hair black for the third time in your life.

After dyeing it before fifth year, you had maintained the roots up until Christmas before you went back to your natural colour, and had remained that way up until now. But, you decided that you wanted your raven locks back, and so had stopped by a muggle pharmacy for some black hair dye. There was something therapeutic in doing it manually.

"Psycho killer, qu'est-ce que c'est?" you continued to mumble, finishing up the touches of your hair, just when you heard a heavy knock on your door.

You stilled: nobody came knocking on your door. Your solitary existence remained very solitary.

Grabbing your wand off the counter, you moved into your bedroom and delicately removed the needle from the vinyl, before silently padding downstairs. You crept up to the maroon door and peered through the peephole, fully prepared to yell "stupefy" should you require.

It was the last person you expected - and considering you expected no one, that really said something.

Despite recognising the individual, you were hesitant to open the door, as you knew that said person was a renowned death eater: one of the Dark Lord's loyal followers.

"L/N, please, I know you're there," he croaked, his voice ragged and scratched.

Against your better judgement, you opened the door, only to catch sight of his ripped clothes and dripping wounds. There were bags under his eyes and his hair was longer and messy, and you had absolutely no idea what to do.

"Please, I didn't know where else to go."

You sighed, lowering your wand and stepping back to open the door wide. Godric knows that you would go to hell for helping a death eater like this.

"What happened to you?" you murmured, leading him through to your small galley kitchen. You dug through your cupboards until you found your first aid kit, and then grabbed a flannel and ran it under the hot tap.

Regulus watched you silently.

"Take off your clothes," you muttered, then added, "Except your underwear."

He obliged, and your breath hitched at the gory visuals in front of you.

"Fuckin' Azkaban."

You began cleaning him up, applying a healing potion as you went.

"I should've listened to you."

"Hm?"

"What you said about mud- muggle-borns," his eyes crinkled together, "You-Know-Who- he's... he's..."

"Batshit?" you raised an eyebrow, noting how Regulus avoided his name.

A scratched chuckle came out his throat, "Yeah."

"Did you challenge him to a duel or something?" you asked as you paused your care of him to fetch a glass of water for his throat.

"I'd be dead if I'd done that - no, I've been trying to find his Horcruxes."

"His what?"

Regulus gulped down all of the water before he replied. "There's a reason he's so fearless."

And then came his explanation and story, of how he found out about Voldemort's secret of immortality after realising that he was in the wrong, and had begun hunting down the pieces of his soul in order to destroy him for good. That led on to his explanation of how he ended up in the state he was currently in.

"The locket," he explained, "I went with Kreacher - my house elf - to this cave. I had to drink water that dehydrates you to get to the locket, and the only other water around was in this lake kind of thing. But, of course, it wasn't a normal lake. It was full of inferni."

You mindlessly continued tending to his wounds as you took all of this in.

"They started clawing at me and dragging me in - so I ordered Kreacher to leave with the locket, thinking I wouldn't survive," his voice faltered as he relived the memory, "I don't even know how I did - it's all a blur. But I couldn't go back home, or anywhere I normally go. You-Know-Who knows by now."

"So you came here?" you finally spoke.

"I- yes."

"Even though we hardly know each other."

He stared at you with darkened sorrow in his eyes, and you realised that this was far from the Regulus you knew in Hogwarts.

You sighed, pulling away from him as you finished up with the last of the injuries.

"You're the first person that came to mind," he murmured.

Your eyes flicked to the snake twisting on Regulus' wrist, the permanent sign of devotion to the Dark Lord.

"He's trying to reach me," he muttered, "Is your house well protected?"

You shook your head, "There's no reason they'd come here."

Regulus cursed under his breath, "I'm really sorry to put you in danger, please let me put some protective charms around the place."

You gestured for him to be your guest.

"Am I-"

"Yes, you can stay," you replied. You wouldn't have let him through your door if you hadn't seen the difference in his once cold eyes.

He said nothing, but gave you a look that screamed his thanks as he left through your kitchen door.

***

"He might think you're dead, you know," you said as he came back inside, while you were in the process of laying the table. He had been outside for so long that you had washed out the hair dye from your hair, which was now wet and a bit of a mess.

He didn't reply, so you looked up at his skinny and fatigued figure.

"He probably doesn't think anyone can escape his protective measures."

"Can't take any chances," he eventually murmured, taking a seat, "Thank you for the food."

You gave a small smile, sitting down opposite him. The two of you ate in a companionable silence until Regulus finally said something.

"I won't be here long. I have to continue my search."

You scowled, "No."

He paused, arching an eyebrow, "No?"

"You're in no state to do anything, Black," you said simply, "You'd be fucking useless out there right now."

You watched as Regulus digested your words, "But I can't do nothing."

You shrugged, "You haven't done nothing. I have."

"Yes, but you don't have mistakes to make up for."

The conversation once again flattened to nothing, the odd hint of tension in the air weighing down ever so slightly.

"Why did you do it the muggle way?"

"Hm?"

"Your hair."

"Oh," your eyes widened as you thought carefully, "Mainly to spite my mother."

He tilted his head in confusion.

"She wasn't a very nice woman," you explained, "Shit mother, and she also hated anything muggle. She's dead now, but I do a lot of muggle things to remind myself I'm nothing like her."

"Did she hate muggle-borns?"

You pursed your lips, "Not really, I don't think. Depends how muggle they acted. I've always theorised that my dad was a muggle and broke her heart."

"My parents were awful," Regulus murmured, "When Sirius got sorted into Gryffindor, they gave up on him. But in a way that also made things worse for me, because I was their last chance at the perfect Black heir."

You nodded.

"That's why I resent him so much."

"Maybe one day you two can get along."

He chuckled dryly, "When muggles can do magic."

***

The once sallowed dark aura around Regulus Black had morphed since Hogwarts. It wasn't brighter, that was for sure, you would describe it as a cloudy navy blue - rainy, but not thunderous. Something about him had been replaced and changed, something hard and uncaring, now softer and sympathetic. It wasn't until you were laying in your bed that night with the wind blowing against your window did you realise exactly what it was - he had been traumatised, and thus matured.

Guilt also crept into you from your darkest corners: you had stayed out of the brewing conflict from the death eaters, even though you disagreed with their values. Your cowardice had led you to self-isolate and refuse to fight, bathing in the safety of your half-blood status. Regulus Black showing up on your doorstep was karma if nothing else.

You pulled your maroon quilt further over you and nestled your head into your pillows, trying to crush the lingering sense that your life was only just beginning.

***

The whistle from your kettle blew, filling the kitchen with steam. You let out a yawn as you entered through the archway, and almost jumped when you saw Regulus stood there with two mugs before him. Living alone had been your situation for far too long.

"Good morning," he spoke, but by the strangled way he said it, it was clear that those two words had never left his mouth before, at least not as a pair.

"Morning," you raised an eyebrow, watching as he wandlessly guided the kettle through the air to pour water.

"Milk? Sugar?" he said in question.

"Milk, two sugars."

He hummed in reply, the black shirt that you had lent him clinging to his lean figure. He was skinnier than he should be, that much was obvious, but there was still muscle definition that made your stomach swarm with butterflies. You knew that you had fancied him briefly back in Hogwarts, but you had squandered those feelings when you learned of his political views.

Now he was a changed man, and he was even more attractive than he used to be, and it felt like every butterfly you had crushed had been resurrected all at once. It was overwhelming, and yet the most satisfying experience you had been a part of since the beginning of your dull adulthood.

"Here," he handed you a golden-yellow mug, "I hope it's to your satisfaction."

"Only time will tell," you replied, moving through to the living room.

You sat in a companionable quiet for a while, sipping on your tea and soaking in the ambiance of the morning.

It was when there was almost no liquid left in your mug, and your limbs were growing fidgety, that you felt words race out your mouth before you could think about them. A rushed, perhaps crossing-the-line, statement of, "Stay for a while."

You didn't know whether you meant hours or months.

***

Regulus took a turn for the worse the next day, overcome with vicious fever-like symptoms and ugly coughing fits. The mid-war conditions that you were in made it way too risky to seek professional help, especially as Regulus was a wanted death eater. So, you had no choice but to take care of him to the best of your ability: between herbal teas, homemade soups, leftover cough medicines and cold cloths pressed to his forehead, he seemed to be slowly improving. At least, he wasn't getting worse. But his body was already weakened, so his chances were worse than an average person dealing with whatever he was.

With your hair tied and sleeves pulled up, you ran the white flannel you had been using for Regulus under the cold tap, letting out an exhausted exhale. It had been approximately sixty hours since your guest was bedridden, and you had hardly slept in that time. It was quite difficult to when he would start screaming in the middle of the night during his fever dream episodes.

The pale moonlight slipped through the gaps in your vertical slit blinds, gently illuminating the white china of your bathroom sink, and probably the bags under your eyes as well. Just as you turned off the tap, you heard more screaming from your guest bedroom, so you quickly wrung out the flannel and ran back to Regulus.

"You're okay, you're okay," you murmured, pressing the cloth to his forehead, "You're safe."

His screaming stopped, and you could've sworn his eyes were slightly opened and staring at you through the darkness. "Y/N," he mumbled.

"Yes, Regulus, it's me, Y/N."

You felt his hand grip around the wrist of your hand that held the flannel in place.

"Don't leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere," you spoke gently.

"In sickness and in health..." he muttered, making you chuckle slightly.

Not forgetting the butterflies, of course.

"Yes, Regulus, in sickness and in health."

"You're... amazing..." he sighed, drifting off again into a lax slumber, his hand falling from your wrist.

You softly stroked his cheek, "Get well soon."

***

You had lost track of the days, but you knew that many suns had set and risen by the time Regulus stumbled downstairs one morning, shirtless and still evidently delirious.

"Good morning," you said, observing the man fumbling to sit down in a chair, "Would you like a cup of tea?"

He grunted.

"Feeling better then?" you asked, moving through the archway into the kitchen and setting out two mugs on the counter.

Regulus raked his hands through his hair, grunting again.

"At least you're conscious," you said half to yourself, half to him.

"Date," he said in a scratchy voice, locking his shiny eyes on to yours.

"What's the date?"

He nodded.

You gazed over at the calendar on your wall, only to realise you hadn't been crossing off the days like you typically did ever since Regulus had fallen ill. Sheepishly, you shrugged, "I don't know."

Regulus sighed.

"Sorry, I've hardly slept."

He shook his head, "Don't apologise, it's not your fault."

You didn't bother refuting that. "On the bright side, I know it's been a good few days. I think You-Know-Who would've found you by now if he was looking for you," you said, adding a, "Touch wood," and touching one of your wooden cabinets afterward.

Regulus seemed to ponder that for a moment, "I guess. Thank you for taking care of me."

"I didn't really have a choice," you replied, placing a mug of steamy tea in front of him, "But I'd do it again."

He smiled at you - a tired, but genuine, smile.

"I need to take a long shower, if you don't mind," you sighed, holding your own warm mug, "I feel gross."

"Yeah, you kinda look it."

You went to whack him, "You're one to talk."

He started laughing, which quickly turned into a coughing fit.

"Whoa, whoa, be careful," you said through laughter, "Your lungs can't take much right now."

"I'm fine," he said through splutters, "I swear."

"You should shower after me," you said when he had calmed down, "In the nicest possible way, you need it."

He didn't argue.

***

Rain pounding against the window seemed almost symbolic of the state of the wizarding world as it was: pathetic fallacy, if you will. But, you must admit, your cowardly approach to the war had led you to lead quite a cosy lifestyle in your little cottage, tucked up by fires with hot cups of tea.

At times, you considered joining the resistance, and fighting for what was right. Realistically, though, you couldn't contribute much. Your duelling skills had always been subpar and despite your alleged Gryffindor identity, you lacked courage. Surely the Sorting Hat had made a mistake all those years ago, back when you were a nervous eleven-year-old stood in front of an audience full of older kids.

Never the matter - the past was the past, and as you didn't possess a timeturner, it would have to remain the way it was.

"Something doesn't feel right," Regulus' voice made you jump out of your skin.

Ignoring your surprise, he sat next to you on the sofa.

"You don't think?"

"No," he shook his head. It had been a couple months since he showed up at your door, and these days he came and went from your home. He was currently in search of his brother, Sirius, who he knew to be a part of the resistance. Regulus had explained to you how even though they had never gotten along, he would be more likely to listen to anything he had to say than other resistance members, who would probably arrest him on the spot.

You had crafted a port key for him - something that you were in fact good at - to access your house without revealing your location. This had led to him frequently jump scaring you by appearing in your living room out of nowhere, especially since he never showed up at the same time.

"Any news on Sirius?"

Regulus shook his head, leaning back into the plush pillows, "He's as good at hiding as I am."

"At least you have something in common."

He chuckled dryly, "I just can't escape the feeling that something is brewing tonight."

"Bad or good?" you furrowed your eyebrows, but secretly you knew what he meant. A new paranoia had been itching at you all day.

Regulus shrugged, "Both. Neither. Who knows?"

You followed his gaze to the thundering sky through the window.

"What day is it?" he asked.

You thought for a moment, "Halloween."

A thunderous boom echoed outside.

Regulus grimaced, "I'll source a newspaper tomorrow. Need to find out if I'm just being paranoid."

It was right then at that moment, as lightning flashed in the sky and lit up the whole room, that you knew he wasn't just being paranoid. A historical moment was taking place as you spoke: tragic, yet hopeful.

You felt a head drop on to your shoulder, and looked down in surprise to see that Regulus had drifted off quite peacefully next to you. Smiling to yourself, you adjusted your position so he could lie on you, unable to stop yourself from indulging in affection that filled your starving appetite for touch. He nuzzled his head into you, making a light and happy sound.

Sighing softly, you let your eyes drift shut.

***

He was gone when you woke up, as often was the case. While he slept at yours almost every night, he was prone to getting back late and leaving early, desperately searching for his elder brother.

Therefore, it was quite a surprise to see him burst through the dining room door at eleven o'clock in the morning, while you were frying eggs.

"Y/N," he said breathlessly as he approached the kitchen archway, a rolled newspaper crushed in one of his hands.

"What?"

"He's gone," he said, and if it wasn't for the smile on his face, you would have thought he was talking about his brother.

You barely had time to put the frying pan down before he continued.

"You-Know-Who," he said, throwing the paper on your kitchen counter, "They're saying he's dead - but I don't believe that - either way he's gone."

You moved to look at the newspaper of moving images and writing.

"He killed James and Lily Potter," he explained, "They were friends of my brother, but apparently he couldn't kill their son. Their one-year-old son."

Eyebrows furrowed, you ran your finger over the front page.

"I hope to Merlin that he never returns, wherever he is."

You chuckled.

"Salazar, I'm so happy I could kiss you," he said quite suddenly, making your head snap up.

Silence lingered between the two of you as you stared at each other with widened eyes, becoming hyper aware of your breathing. Then, his lips were on yours, and while it was a chaste kiss, it was passionate and intimate.

When you parted, Regulus rested his forehead against yours and wrapped his arms around your figure, pulling you flush against him.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," he panted.

"Me too."

***

The second time you were gathered around a newspaper together was not too long later, after the arrest of Sirius Black for the murder of Peter Pettigrew and being a suspected death eater.

"At least you managed to find and talk to him before this."

Regulus sighed, "Yeah. I guess."

You said nothing.

"He was the only one who could vouch for me. I can never earn people's trust now."

"I think you'll just need to stay on the down-low."

Regulus sighed again, taking your hand into his, "Can I stay here for that long?"

You chuckled, pulling him into your embrace, "You can stay here forever."

He smiled, kissing your head.

***

APPROXIMATELY SEVENTEEN YEARS LATER: 1998.

***

"The verdict of the state versus Regulus Black is as follows..." the judge sat in the courtroom at the Ministry of Magic announced, making your breath hitch as you crossed your fingers behind your back.

You locked eyes with your long-time fiancé who was stood in the centre of the room within a mini-cell, and saw the way his Adam's apple moved in a gulp.

"Regulus Black is found guilty of serving You-Know-Who and the anti-muggle-born terrorist movement..."

You threw your hand over your mouth, tears pricking at your eyes.

"...but is hereby pardoned from punishment due to his immense aid in defeating You-Know-Who thereafter."

Never had such a large amount of air rushed out of your lungs, as your son hugged you from the side, likely not understanding the words the judge used, but understanding the look of elation on his father's face.

You didn't stop Sirius from detaching from your side and running down to the cell as they unlocked it: in fact, you ran after him, eager to hold your fiancé in your arms. You watched as Regulus picked up his son and hugged him tightly, before dropping him to take you into his arms.

Pecking his lips, you beamed up at him with joyful tears streaming down your cheeks.

"We can finally get married," he said, kissing you again.

You giggled, "Hopefully before my bump gets too big."

Regulus' eyes widened as he moved his hand to your abdomen, his smile somehow growing even wider than it was before.

"I love you," he said breathlessly.

——————————————

masterlist

written; 02/10/2023 —> 20/12/2023 published; 21/12/2023 edited; —/—/——

170 notes · View notes

saintlucretia · 4 months ago

Text

Melancholy Of a Sinner

Pairings: James Patrick March x Female!Reader

Warnings: Smoking. Alcohol. Mentions of murder. Blood. Killings. Hurt/Comfort. Mr. March.

Summary: Y/N was once James's protege, but got killed by John Lowe.

A/N: I have no idea what is this actually. I'm very unsure about this. Summer vibes yay.

Life became something beyond reality. It was past. Past that faded. Like a fever dream. Something that felt real but wasn't anymore. Cold limbs and infinite longing.

There was no point in food because my tongue had no taste. Fruits weren't sweet, meat wasn't fresh, it all felt dead as well. Maybe that's because I put food in a dead mouth.

Alcohol made my blood colder and sometimes it felt easier to breathe after two glasses of absinthe. But it was probably my imagination.

A few months have passed since my throat was slit. I still feel it sometimes. Cold and rough blade against my skin. Warm and sticky blood on my chest. Smooth and strong hands gripping my shoulders. Nobody could know that John Lowe would get off his bonkers for no fucking reason. Maybe he really believed that I was one of the greatest sinners, who deserved death. Maybe he wanted to be the only protege that Mr. March had. It doesn’t really matter now. I guess they call it the wrong place, the wrong time.

There was little to do at Cortez. The hotel was dying. The only exciting activity here was killing newcomers, but I quickly got bored of it. Killings made sense when I was alive. Now it was just a childish game. Besides, there was no point in getting this place even more crowded.

It was approximately midday. I was walking through a dimly lit hall, passing guest rooms. The carpet made slurping sounds under my shoes, it probably was someone's blood. I pulled out a pack of Lucky Strikes. Nicotine didn't work on my body either, but I liked the habit. I held a cigarette between my lips and tried to light it. The lighter was out. Damn it.

“Let me help.” A deep voice with an almost comical old American accent. In a second a hand was brought to my cheek and lit my cigarette.

I took a deep drag and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure, darling.” March chuckled. “Mind my company? Or do you have plans?”

I could see the amusement in his eyes. He found sick pleasure in teasing. Nobody here ever had any plans. We were just walking through the halls and spontaneously murdering poor fellows who came across.

“Stay if you want,” I muttered, exhaling smoke.

“You look like you need a drink,” He said playfully.

“Really?” I asked sarcastically.

I brought the cigarette to my lips again and took another drag.

“Dearest, believe me, a few glasses of the finest wine from my collection, and all your worries will fade away.” James smiled.

I sighed.

“Lead the way.” I took him by the hand.

We slowly walked to his chambers. It was summer. The sun dimly penetrated the threadbare curtains in the hallway. Guests probably were crowding LA beaches. Well, guests that managed to stay alive.

“How long have you been dead already? A hundred years?” I asked and my voice echoed from the walls.

“Something around that number. I see no need in counting. Why so curious?”

“It’s hard to cope with the thought that I am going to suffer for eternity.”

We turned around the corner.

“My, my, such dread thoughts in such a pretty head. Why do you see this as eternal suffering, when it could be an eternal delight?” He sounded amused.

“You can’t be serious.” I sighed.

He chuckled.

"Darling, but imagine the possibilities. You can do whatever your heart desires without worrying about the consequences." James opened the door to his room, letting me go first. "Please, come in.”

The room was dark aside from the light seeping through the curtains, casting a dim glow over the interior. A sense of unreality hovered over the scene, as though the shadows and half-light were playing tricks on my eyes. I have never been here in the daytime. Of course, I have visited room 64 hundreds of times, but it usually was a night business meeting, where we discussed killing plans that I was going to commit. In the daylight it all was different.

"Please, have a seat." He gestured towards the plush armchair beside the bed.

The carpet made a soft sound as James walked over to the small, elegant bar in the corner of the room. The dim light cast strange shadows over the shelves and the various array of bottles, making the place look even more sinister, yet oddly comforting. I sat in the armchair.

He opened one of the cabinets and started to look through his collection of wines.

"Cabernet? Pinotage? Or perhaps a good old classic Bordeaux would be to your liking, darling?" He smirked and took a look at me over his shoulder.

“Your taste,” I answered nonchalantly, looking at the curtained window.

"Glad that you trust me that much." He teased.

James picked up a bottle and took out two crystal glasses. He poured the wine and walked back.

"Only because I don’t care anymore if you poisoned my drink." I chuckled.

He gave me one glass and sat on the bed, in front of me.

“Nonsense, darling.” He laughed, swirling the dark liquid around the glass for a moment, and took a sip. “Poison is vulgar. I’d rather stab you.”

“Vulgar?” I laughed, tasting alcohol on my tongue.

March smiled, his dark eyes glinting in the dim light.

"Poison is rather a cowardly method, you should admit this," he said, his eyes never leaving mine. "Stabbing, on the other hand, there is an art in that.”

“I almost managed to forget how sick you are.” I smiled, crossing my legs.

“Careful, darling. I have a weakness for pretty women with sharp tongues.” He set his glass on the bedside table. “And talking about ‘sick’, my dear,” he said, his tone light and playful, “you have a glint in your eye that suggests you are not entirely repulsed by the idea of being stabbed by me. Not to mention you also find murder entertaining.”

“Don’t put your perverse fantasies on me, March.”

He smiled.

“I got a bit carried away, didn’t I?”

"Oh, just a touch." I chuckled, taking another sip of wine.

“You know, it’s good to have someone with whom I can discuss my… little hobby.”

“Our hobby.” I corrected him. “Even though I am kind of retired.”

He chuckled. I could see him looking at me, studying my every move. I could feel his eyes wandering across my neck, the scar that I didn’t care to cover, my collarbones, and the exposed part of my chest. I was used to men looking at me like I was a piece of meat. But his gaze was different. Gaze of a gentleman, God forbid.

"You know, people call it morbid, but I like to think of it as... artistic.” He said, his voice low, almost whispering. James leaned forward, his hands resting on his own knees. "There is something so... intimate about it, don’t you think? Taking someone’s life."

“Twisted perspective,” I said, lighting another cigarette with matches that were on the bedside table.

March leaned back, a sly smile playing on his lips as he took a sip of his wine.

"Perhaps." He set the glass back. “But tell me, love, aren't we all twisted in our own way? You, me, and everyone who has ever stepped foot in Cortez."

I chuckled softly at his statement, the smoke curling up towards the ceiling.

"I suppose you’re right. I think I lost my grip on 'normal' long ago."

I took a drag, holding the cigarette with my fingers, and looked out the window. It became lighter as the sun was starting to peek past the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room.

“I am glad that you died,” he said quietly.

I looked at him puzzled, my hand frozen holding the cigarette between my fingers.

"Is this your strange attempt to comfort me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because I thought I was an extension of your career.”

March chuckled at my question, rosing slowly and towering over me beside the armchair. He reached out and gently traced the scar along my neck.

“You were way more than that, darling.” He said, his fingers tracing the rough skin where the blade cut my throat.

My breath hitched slightly as his cold fingers brushed over my skin. The touch felt almost intimate.

"Enough lies, I was nothing more than just a toy soldier on your board game," I said, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"Maybe in some way you were, but I would never compare you to a pawn though." He said, his fingers tracing lower and stopping on my collarbones.

The sun was shining in stripes between the curtains, falling over the bed and over his face, lighting up the dark irises of his eyes.

"You always had the makings of a queen." He took my hand and left a light kiss on my knuckles.

"And I thought The Countess was supposed to play this role," I mumbled nonchalantly, taking a drag of my cigarette and averting my eyes from his gaze.

I sensed his discomfort as I mentioned her. James leaned in, his face dangerously close to mine. He took the cigarette from my fingers and brought it to his lips, taking a long drag. He exhaled a cloud of smoke in my direction. “Darling, you know very well that she is nothing more than a part of my past.”

“How touching,” I commented.

March raised an eyebrow at my sarcasm. He took another drag from my cigarette, his eyes never leaving my face.

"You’ve never seemed to be jealous, darling, and now I hear bitterness in your voice. What has changed?"

He took his glass of wine and swirled the liquid around, watching it slosh inside of the goblet. I sighed, leaned back in the armchair, and pressed the cold crystal of my empty glass to my forehead.

"Don't tell me you have grown fond of me." He whispered, his tone slightly mocking.

I let my head fall back on the back of the armchair, my eyes gazing aimlessly at the ceiling. The shadows from the curtains danced across the wall, a constant reminder of our ghostly existence. Maybe I deserved suffering. All murderers do, don't they?

I forced myself to chuckle. "Don't flatter yourself. Your change of attitude merely amuses me." I replied.

I watched him take another drag of my cigarette, the smoke curling around his face. I couldn't help but think how he looked like a fallen angel. A damn handsome one. I always admired him. He was my mentor, he taught me everything I knew. Sometimes I looked up at him like he was my God. After all, I had no one except him.

I watched his dark eyes, trying to decipher what he was thinking.

"You seem distracted," March said, his eyes scanning my face.

My hands were shaking. Damn, I needed a cigarette. I looked up at him. Without a word, he handed me the cigarette. His fingers brushed against mine fleetingly as I took it. I exhaled a shaky breath and brought it to my lips. The familiar smell of tobacco filled my lungs as I inhaled deeply.

"Tsk-tsk, darling, you look like a junkie craving their dosage." He said in a condescending tone.

“So what?”

“Cigarettes will not give you what you are craving.” his voice low.

"And what am I craving then, oh, wise one?" I retorted, taking another drag of my cigarette.

March chuckled, sitting back on the edge of the bed. He knew that I depended on him and his opinion. And he used that.

"You and I both have never had a normal life." He said. “You crave peace.”

"And what makes you say that?" I snapped. I inhaled another lungful of smoke and exhaled it out angrily. "You don't know what I want or need."

March chuckled.

"Oh, love, I know exactly what you need," he said. His voice was velvety. “I met you as a scared little girl and now you are a strong and independent woman. I know you very well. I practically made you who you are right now.”

I scowled at his last words. My fingers tightened around the cigarette, knuckles turning white.

"It was easy to manipulate the little girl." I snapped, my tone cold and harsh. “But you can’t do this now.”

March just sat there, his eyes fixed on me, that damn smirk still present in his expression. Like he was enjoying my anger. He was stronger. I felt my eyes treacherously filling with tears.

James got up and approached me, towering over me with his tall stature. “Shh, little girl.” He took the cigarette from my shaky fingers, put it in the ashtray, and pressed me against his chest, his arms wrapping around my frame.

I buried my face in his chest, trying to hide the tears that quietly rolled down my cheeks. My body trembled slightly. I wasn't the type to get hysterical. At least, not one of those who become hysterical while crying.

"I thought I was over this," I whispered, my voice barely above a faint. “I don’t want to be dead. I don’t want to be alone.”

March didn't say anything. He just held me there, one hand holding me against him, the other caressing my hair. I couldn't deny how good it felt to be held like that. Like I was something precious. I closed my eyes, my fingers digging into the fabric of James's shirt. His lips pressed against my hair, and he inhaled the scent of it.

“You can handle it. You are a strong girl,” he whispered. “You always were. That’s why I picked you.”

I hated myself for being so vulnerable. Especially in front of James March. Disgrace for a killer. I have always known that I could never be greater than him. But now I probably don’t even deserve a place at The Devil’s Night.

I looked up at him. “I'm sorry for disappointing you.”

March shook his head, a flicker of something uncertain passing through his eyes.

"You never disappoint me, darling," he said.

James cupped my face gently in his hands and brushed the remaining tears away from my cheeks with his thumbs.

"You committed six murders, being only twenty years old, dear. I am very proud of what you have become.” He smiled gently.

I leaned my cheek into his warm palm, taking a ragged breath. “I shouldn’t have cried in front of you,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of, dear. I’ve always known that you are sensitive underneath your strength,” He gently stroked my hair. “That’s why I decided that it would be better for you to stay here with me.”

I froze. “What do you mean?”

“You must understand, I couldn’t let you die anywhere else.” He pulled me closer, his thumb brushing against my bottom lip. “So our friend John just helped me with this problem. But it's okay now, you don't have to worry.”

I felt like my heart died once again.

“No.” I pulled away from him in fear. “No no no. You couldn’t-”

“I could.” He grabbed my wrists firmly, holding me in place. "And I did."

“You ordered him to finish me?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“Darling.” He cupped my cheek gently. His voice quickly changed back to soothing.

I grabbed an empty glass from the bedside table and smashed it on the edge of the table. The remained part of the crystal glass was sharp enough and in a second I stabbed it into James’s throat.

Blood gushed out of the wound, staining his shirt a dark color. March staggered and fell onto the floor with a gasp. His hands clutched at the wound on the neck. I stumbled back, staring at the image in front of me. The glass shattered into a million pieces. They glittered like little diamonds against the dark carpet. His blood slowly drowned little crystals.

I stood there watching him dying, knowing that he would return in seconds. I pulled out another cigarette and lighted it.

“Feel better now?” I heard his voice behind me.

I shrugged, inhaling the tobacco from the cigarette and exhaling it out. I didn't look back at him.

"A little bit," I answered.

“You have an eternity to forgive me, darling." I felt his hands on my shoulders. “And you know that I can wait.”

I stayed silent for a moment, taking another puff from my cigarette.

"I'm not sure if forever is enough," I muttered.

“I'll always be there anyway,” he said and I felt his lips on my cheek. “I love you.”

One single tear silently rolled down my cheek and disappeared under my chin. Probably I loved him too.

#james march #jpm #jpm x reader #ahs hotel #ahs fandom #american horror story #james patrick march x reader #james march x reader #evan peters

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friendship-ditch · 1 month ago

Text

Whumptober Day 13 - Multiple Whumpees

Platonic Boromir and Faramir x Fem!Reader ✼

Summary: Faramir thinks he's cursed, Boromir blames himself for it, you comfort them both.

Warnings/Notes: Just some family trauma. Also the prompt "family curse"

Word Count: 1279

“Am I a curse?”

Boromir winced at his brother's heartbreaking words, shaking his head.

“No, you’re not.”

“I do not believe father would agree.” Faramir mumbled quietly in response.

“No… he probably wouldn’t.”

After Faramir got… let’s just say he got beat pretty good in training with his brother, Boromir realized the consequences that would soon follow. If Denethor even saw the tiniest splatter of blood on Faramir’s skin, the poor man would be verbally harassed and beaten down once more for being weak.

In reality Faramir’s nose only began to bleed after a striking hit took Boromir out but the handle of his sword bounced back and hit him right in the face. Boromir would never willingly hurt his brother and would feel awful afterwards if it were an accident, but this was worrying too.

“Stop staring.” Faramir muttered, a rag still held to his nose. The blood was slowing down from its pour but the bruise was incredibly purple and blue. Anybody could see it. “It doesn’t hurt. I’ll be fine.”

“Father will have your head.”

“Then he may have it. I’m sick of trying to fight him, Boromir. No matter what I do, the blame will always be on me. I’m the lesser–”

“Don’t say that.” Boromir stopped him, smacking his leg in warning. “Stop. Just stop. We’ll figure this out.”

With a huff, Faramir’s shoulders sank. His head dipped forward but more blood came gushing out so he picked it back up. “There’s nothing to figure out. Just let me accept the ridiculing and get it over with.”

Boromir’s brow creased with worry. There was nothing more he hated seeing than the way his brother thought of himself after so many days of abuse from their father. He fought against it but whenever he stood up for Faramir things only seemed to get worse.

“Maybe I’m the curse.” Boromir wondered aloud. When he felt Faramir’s eyes flick to him, he turned his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m the one you’re always compared to… the only one father sees, and I hate it because of how it makes you feel. It’s my fault father treats you this way.”

“Now you’re the one rambling.”

“It is true. Is it not?”

“Well… you needn’t word it that way. It makes you sound like a monster.” Faramir took his turn to punch his brother gently in the arm. “Maybe we’re both cursed.”

“Maybe…”

The brothers offered each other a sad smile, one shared often in times like this.

“I have a plan but you won’t like it.”

“Always the mischievous one.” Faramir’s little grin was happier now, earning a tilt of his head. “What is it?”

“Punch me. Then we’ll both be hurt and it’ll look like you got me good.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“No.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Faramir…”

“No! I’m not going to bruise your face up just to save me from a scolding.” Faramir crossed his arms and stood up. His nose finally stopped bleeding, the rag discarded on the bench he was once sat on. He began to pace. “There has to be another way.”

“Another way for what?”

Both of the brothers looked up as you entered the training hall, sleeves pushed up and hair tied back from a busy day of… who knows what. Then they exchanged a glance.

“How willing would you be to punch me?” Boromir asked.

A small smirk tugged at your lips. You’d been friends with the brothers for as long as you could remember. You were all practically siblings at this point. Punching Boromir was something you often warned about but never actually did because he didn’t deserve it. But if you were being offered…?

“What’s the reason?” You asked, sitting where Faramir had been.

“I got hurt. Boromir thinks that if he’s hurt as well then our father won’t scold me.” The standing man explained. Disapproval was written clearly on his face, but also the slightest bit of hope.

“Wouldn’t you just get in trouble for hurting Boromir then?”

“That’s what I thought.”

Boromir joined it. “Would he really think that?”

You and Faramir exchanged a glance. “Yes.”

So, the idea was dropped. Although you were not at all opposed to it, you didn’t want to risk Faramir getting into any more trouble than he already would be.

Eventually you all did head back into the main halls of Gondor and with one look at his wounded son, Denethor took him aside and wouldn’t let you or Boromir follow.

You practically had to drag Boromir away from the locked doors. You brought him to Faramir’s chambers so the two of you could be there to comfort him after the inevitable… whatever would come from his father.

You spent the time tidying Faramir’s things, though the room was incredibly neat, so your job mostly consisted of picking up the tiniest dust bunnies by hand and dumping them into the trash bin. Boromir made quick work of an old blanket he sat on, nails digging into the fabric like the claws of a kneading cat. He spoke not a word, eyes angled firmly on the ground as he silently took it out on himself.

The silence was deafening.

When even humming didn’t help, you finally tried to strike a conversation with the suddenly reserved man.

“What are you thinking about?”

Boromir didn’t lift his head, staring at a speck on the floor with such ferocity it should have melted by now. His fingers continued their rhythmic clawing at the blanket beneath him. “My whole family is cursed.” He muttered. “And it’s my fault.”

“Elaborate.” You sat beside him, hand on his knee.

“My mother was cursed with sickness… my father with madness. My brother is cursed with an unlovable father and it’s because of me. If I wasn’t here… there would be nothing for him to take out on Faramir. And when I stand up for him… it only gets worse.” Boromir whispered softly, voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. He’d clearly been thinking about this for a long time. The words began to spill out against his will. “There’s nothing I can do but sit back and watch my father destroy my brother and it destroys me too.”

“It isn’t your fault.”

“It is.”

“It’s not.” You shook your head, squeezing his knee and then shaking it a little. “You’re not the one being cruel to your brother. You’re the opposite, you’re one of the reasons he’s still okay despite your fathers actions. If you were as evil as you seem to think, you would feel the same about Faramir as Denethor does.”

Boromir looked at you, reading your eyes as though he was searching for any deception. When he found none, the anger in his gaze faded and he sighed, leaning his head against your shoulder.

The two of you shared a few moments of peace when the door opened and Faramir entered.

He was surprised to see the two of you in his chambers, eyes already red and lips tight from the encounter with Denethor. He hesitated at the doorway.

You beckoned him over, patting the spot beside you.

Faramir did as you said, settling at your side in the same position as Boromir.

“Neither of you two are cursed.” You murmured as you slipped your arms around their sides and pulled them into a gentle hug. “I promise. You just have an awfully shitty father.”

This drew a chuckle from Boromir, and some sort of approving grunt from Faramir who didn’t trust himself to speak yet. You just squeezed them tighter and held them as close as you could.

#whumptober2024 #no.13 #multiple whumpees #family curse #lotr #fic #x reader #lotr x reader #lotr x y/n #platonic x reader #platonic faramir x reader #platonic boromir x reader #faramir x y/n #boromir x y/n #GIVE THEM HUGS #whump

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hiemaldesirae · 7 months ago

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Swap AU:

Vox's Goetia (we need a name for him...umm because he's where Vox gets the extras for the fight against Heaven; got any ideas?) looks like a Griffin. He's got a Lion lower half and eagle upper half but his colors are shades of blue. (You see why Vox proposed that deal.)

The crew work on defense for days. Vox goes to Lucifer to ask about Angel weaknesses and informs him about Adam's threats against Charlie and the Hotel, and that's how the hotel crew gets informed of angel weaknesses. Lucifer tells, after all why should he keep Heaven's weakness a secret when they're coming for his daughter?

Vox then puts a big order of Angelic steel in for Carmine, paying extra to have it arrive early, which it does so he and Pentious can build turrets and drones to shoot down the exterminators. They have a blast.

Also: fun facts:

Vox's sensors and subconscious relax and recognize Alastor's scent as safe, even though Vox himself cannot smell anything. The sensor's database has recognized certain scents as family (Husk's, Vel's, Val's) lover's/husband's (Alastor's) little sister (Charlie's) my duck loving liege lord who might be my friend too? (Lucifer) the crazy exorcist chick whose now treating me with kid gloves--IT WAS ONE PANIC ATTACK! (Vaggie) Val's weird Spider who keeps taking photos and I know is stealing my shit (Angel Dust) The Best Little Engineer That Could (Sir Pentious) The Engineer's less then steller sidekicks 1-8 (Eggbois) the chick that keeps blowing up the wall (Cherri Bomb)

Angel Dust does do more then steal. He brings in Alastor's cooking to the Hotel, and Vox who does miss homemade jambalaya jumps at the chance to eat it. Vox just devours it. (Of course Angel lied and told him it was set aside for Niffty and Velvette for working so hard. He wasn't going to tell him Alastor had been waiting at the door of V-tower with the large Tupperware bowl with strict instructions that only Vox got what was inside.)

Vox actually turns in early--he'd been stressing out with Adam's threat laying over him and the thought of a true death coming for him hasn't sat well, but the warmth of good food made him sleepy and he goes to bed. He's barely asleep when Alastor joins him, gently petting his rabbit ears and murmuring his undying devotion to sleeping Vox's ears.

uhhh. drawing from the demons of the ars goetia grimoire, seir could work as a name? according to his description, seir can go to any place on earth in a matter of seconds to accomplish the will of the conjurer (possibly explaining how vox can use him for errands and such), and hes not a particularly evil demon. he's also a prince of hell, so that makes his and stolas' relation even closer since there seems to be only 7 of them in the ars goetia grimore

HAHAHA awww bonding time with pentious and vox!!! i still stand by the fact that i think vox should get to say kys to at least ONE other person in the swap au. i simply believe my wife should be allowed to cyberbully whoever he wants <3 also i imagine lucifer would show up to help with fortifications too, no? i just cant see him leaving his daughter and friend alone to deal with the fallout while not leaving the palace... though admittedly, i am a bit biased from what electric mentioned.

me after i die. HE STILL RECOGNIZES AL AS HIS LOVER...... auwgudawgh...... imgonna be SICK. what the HELL did they even fight about because clearly it wasnt enough to keep both of them from pining for each other... AUAUWGAHAH every time you come in my inbox its like another plane (angst( striking the twin towers (my heart)

and i am SUCH a fucking sucker for radiostatics love language being food. the idea that al nabs / has angel nab voxs stuff so that he can stake his claim but he also makes him food.... just stop being cryptic and TELL HIM YOUR SHIT !!! god i hate them. dysfunctional ass toxic couple theyre the WORST. and al. please for the love of god just be a Normal Person and STOP BREAKING INTO VOXS BED AT NIGHt ?!!?!?? just one normal thing from you. god damn its like if he doesnt act like a freak he loses 20 years off his lifespan or something

#ran rambles #hazbin hotel #general asks #radiostatic #swap au

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trblsvt · 1 year ago

Note

okay okay how about some sort of mlt headcanon scenario literally whatever is easiest and calls to you but seventeen + sunset kisses like who is calling to you most with the scenario and all the bursting colors and feelings OOO maybe you could explore sunset vs sunrise kisses ??

OKAY OKAY SO THIS GOT MY BRAIN THINKING THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS IN <3 I SORT OF TURNED THIS INTO SUNSET/SUNRISE DATES AND NOT KISSES BECAUSE IDK, this is also not proofread yet to whoever stumbles upon this

seungcheol: he would definitely be into sunrise dates/kisses. the morning air feels so cool against his skin and it's the perfect atmosphere to hold your hand. he's just romantic like that. i think he's totally into pda and all that, but there's something about finding a secluded area on a beach where he can kiss you how he wants and as much as he likes away from nosy people really speaks to him.

jeonghan: sunrise dates/kisses for sure. he loves waking up next to you and seeing the sun light up your features. it doesn't even have to be a date to an outdoorsy place, just in your backyard, or apartment balcony. you name it, he likes it! he would kiss your forehead and your hands, soft fleeting kisses like the lighter yellows and oranges.

joshua: sunset dates/kisses! i can just see it now. a casual date down a boardwalk in LA or something, he'd plan out everything. an early dinner, some light shopping, and finally a nice walk down on the boardwalk. joshua strikes me as a lowkey guy, but he would love to hold your hand and kiss you as people walk by as the sky turns into oranges and purples.

jun: you would suggest this to jun and he would be totally down. he would suggest hiking up to his favorite mountain/hill spot, but you probably wouldn't make it in time to the spot he planned. so you're halfway up when the sky starts turning the beautiful colors, and instead of waiting he would just grab you and kiss you to still savor the moment.

hoshi: he is such a sentimental person and he would take this very seriously. he probably took you out on a sunset date for your first date and he wants to recreate it every year. it doesn't matter what the weather is like or if he's sick, he's bringing you to the exact same spot every year. you'll watch the sun disappear over the horizon, and the stars start to appear. then he'll kiss you like the first time all over again.

wonwoo: he'd kind of just go because you suggested it and it seemed like something you were into. however, when you actually set up a cute picnic to watch the sunset, he's sold. he would kiss every part of your face as the sky finally fades into the deep navy of the night. the dim lighting adds an intimate feel that he prefers over the sunset itself, but he loved spending time with you waiting for the perfect time to kiss and hold you.

woozi: you would probably propose the idea and basically have to give a presentation on why going out for a sunrise date would be great. only problem, the two of you don't want to wake up in time and he's usually busy at night. essentially, woozi would not be the one to take out on a date like this... so if you did plan on going on this date, you'd probably miss sunrise and he'd make it up to you by taking you out to lunch.

dokyeom: loves sunrises. his inner-photographer would jump at the opportunity. he would wake up so much earlier than you needed to leave because he would be so excited. he'd probably bring an old film camera that he's been dying to use. he just thinks the golden sun peeking over the horizon would be so gorgeous on film. he definitely uses more film on you than on the sun, but it's worth it. he would kiss you so much in between pictures because he just doesn't know how else to express his love at that moment.

mingyu: okay, that video of mingyu driving around with his family inspired this. i think he'd just like driving around with you in the evening. he'd just admire you watching the scenery pass by. he would totally hold your hand and kiss each one of your fingers. you'd reciprocate by kissing his gold-illuminated cheek and he'd be blushing for the rest of the ride.

minghao: TOTALLY 100% INTO IT! sunrise, sunset, you name it! he'd probably bring his painting supplies too, and he'd secretly paint you in the landscape to surprise you. he'd probably love sunset more than sunrise because of the darker colors that slowly overtake the deep oranges and reds. he'd act all annoyed when you would grab his hand and kiss his cheek, but he secretly loves it and wants you to just kiss him for real.

seungkwan: LOVES sunsets! he loves the fact that he can see the sun and the moon at the same time. it's like the two of you being sandwiched between the universe as he draws shapes onto your skin and presses soft kisses on your jaw. it's comforting and he loves hugging you and rolling around on the ground while you watch the sky. he'd probably try to point out stars and name them for you.

vernon: vernon wouldn't really get the draw. he would kind of just be like, "oh, but aren't lunch dates cool too?" and you'd just look at him like yeah duh lunch dates are cool too, but it's extra cool and pretty to hold hands while the sun is coming up or down. he doesn't need a lot of convincing though, he just loves spending time with you. he will admit the colors the sky makes are beautiful and he'll definitely take some pictures (with you in it) and make it his lock/homescreen.

dino: he'd be down, but he'd probably not get the intention at first and ask if he could invite his brother or something. but once you explain to him it's supposed to be romantic he'd take the hint and be more excited! it'd probably be down a beach or something. you're looking for shells or shark teeth but you have to look closely since the light is still just barely there. he'd come up behind you and grab you around the waist. you'd probably fall over and roll around in the sand a little then he'd finally kiss your nose and you'd watch the sun fully rise together.

#seventeen #seventeen reactions #seventeen headcanons #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt imagines #svt x reader #asks #my friends <3 #maria <3

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sinfullyrosey · 2 years ago

Text

What’s Yours is Mine

Floyd/Jade Leech X Azul Ashengrotto X GN!Eel!Reader

Warnings: Biting, Brief Mentions of Violence, Sibling Banter/Rivalry (Reader hurls insults at the tweels), Possessive Leech Siblings, Aggressive Affections

NO INCEST (The Tweels and Reader are strictly only sexual towards Azul)

Imagine being the twins’ younger sibling and being in a secret relationship with Azul. Azul was afraid of what the twins would do if they ever found out he was sexually involved with their precious, little sibling.

The two were very protective over you. He’s witnessed first hand when someone tries to mess with you. You may be able to defend yourself when it came to physical fights, but that didn’t mean either eel liked it when someone got a little too close to you, trying to take their lil eel’s “innocents” away. He can still smell the coppery scent from the incident when a Savanaclaw student tried to put the moves on you.

So, you would think he’d avoid getting involved with you all together, not be caught balls deep in the youngest Leech in the once noninterrupted privacy of his dormroom. Well, hindsight is 20/20 and the octoboy isn’t wearing his glasses at the moment.

“Well, well, what do we have here, hm?”

Azul froze.

He didn’t turn around to see the two towering figures walk into his room, closing and locking the door in the process. He just laid on top of you, a cold chill running through his blood.

“Looks like Azul is defiling baby eel.”

He could just feel his dick start to shrivel up in fear as they get closer and closer. You were the complete opposite and growled at the other two, trying to wiggle yourself out from under Azul to better glare up at them.

“Get out, both of you!“

The twins share a glance, before grinning, making you snarl more, baring your own set of sharp teeth in warning.

“No, I don’t think we will, Y/N.” Jade answered in amusement.

The bed dips with the weight of the taller twin making his way over to you and Azul. You quickly push aside your partner, who was silent through the whole thing, putting you between him and your brother. Floyd merely grinned in a challenging manner, teeth bared as well.

Meanwhile, Jade made his way to the other side of the bed, sandwiching you and Azul between him and Floyd. Azul was pressed against the headboard and pillows, searching for the right thing to say to try and defuse the situation.

“You know the rules, Y/N, you got to share your catch with your dear, big brothers.~” Jade said, finally baring his own set of fangs.

“Yeah little eel, why do you get Azul all to yourself?“ Floyd pouted.

Your brothers were closing in on you two, eyes glinting with mischievous and ill intent, making you finally snap before Azul could even process what was actually going on.

“Ugh, you two always ruin everything! I just want something that’s mine for once! I’m sick of you taking everything from me! Food, toys, prey, and now my partner! Why can’t you two just scram, I’m not sharing him!”

Wait...

What.

Azul looks at you incredulously, eyes wide in shock at what was just said. Were you three, fighting over him? The tweels weren’t here to maul him for touching you? And you were defending him from them? All three of you wanted him?!

“Aww, no fair little eel, we’ve been tailing him for~ever! Why do you get to have some fun with Azul, but not share with us?!” Floyd whined.

“Don’t care, it’s not my fault you two slimeballs didn’t move in on him when you had the chance. That’s what you get for biding your time with the whole “we’re just business partners” sharkshit.“

“Now now, Floyd, Y/N, surely we can come to a compromise, just like we always do?”

You and Floyd were glaring each other down, ignoring your brother, ready to strike if the other so much as twitched. And despite his words, Jade took this time to edge closer without the others noticing.

“What is happening right now?” Azul mumbled.

Floyd moved in closer, looming over you and Azul’s much smaller forms now. He playfully grinned down at you. You snorted hot air back at him in response.

“Come on, Y/N, just a little taste, a little nibble. I want to know if he tastes as good as he looks.~“

“No, Floyd. I’ll maul you if you touch him.” You warned.

Floyd looked about ready to pounce, but you were ready to snap back if he tried.

“You know Y/N...” Jade interrupted, grabbing the attention of the three of you finally. “... I am a bit disappointed in you.“

You blinked.

“Excuse you?”

Even Floyd was curious to what his twin meant by that. Jade grinned at both of your expressions, continuing.

“To have Azul on top, him inside of you rather then the other way around, quite unbecoming of a Leech, really.“ He shook his head in a faux sign of disapprovement.

Floyd blinked before busting out laughing.

Your face flushed, out of embarrassment or anger, you didn’t know. Azul wasn’t faring any better, face reddening at the lewd implication.

“Shut up, Floyd! And so what if I let Azul top, it’s none of your damn business, Jade!”

“I’m merely expressing my shock over your choice of positions. I assumed you’d want to dominate our Azul, rather then allow him to dominate you.”

You paused to think over what he was implying, the other twin still chuckling at what Jade had pointed out. Your eyes squinted to leer at him, tone serious.

“I don’t let Azul dom me. Don’t get the wrong idea, brother.“ You spit.

The two looked unconvinced, taunting even, almost challenging you to prove otherwise.

“All I’m saying is, with us, you show a little more fight. You stand your ground and don’t hold back... but the moment you get into bed with Azul here, you easily roll over and present for him.” He tsked.

Floyd, finally catching on, nodded along to what his twin was saying.

“Ye~ah little eel, if it was us, we wouldn’t let him take over so easily. Can’t have any other guppy thinking they can walk all over us. Unlike you.~”

Your breathing became more labored from the sheer amount of anger you were restraining, trying not to maul your older brothers right here, right now. Your teeth dug into your lip, fists clenched at their smug expressions.

“I’ll prove it..!”

Before Azul could even process what you were about to do, you grabbed at him and proceeded to sink your sharp rows of teeth right into the tender flesh of his shoulder. Sea blue eyes widened, mouth open in a silent scream, as he felt the faintest trickle of blood slip past your lips.

To the surprise of your twin siblings, Azul’s still bare dick suddenly spurted out ropes of thick, white cum from the orgasm wracking his body and making him see white. You stayed like that for a few minutes, letting Azul take it all in and settle down from the sudden high.

Once he had calmed down, you released him, licking your lips of the red liquid.

“There, see, does that look like the guy that can dom me?!”

It was silent, the two just staring at the panting Azul, incredulously. They just witnessed their baby sibling make a man cum in literal seconds, from a single bite.

The silence was eventually broken by the more excitable twin exclaiming happily, “Woah... I want to try that!~”

“Wha-no Floyd, I already said not to touch him, you big slime bucket!”

But in typical Floyd fashion, he didn’t listen and did as he pleased, crawling over to the still-recovering octomer and copying what you did to his other shoulder. Azul tensed once more, letting out a high squeal and dick hardening again. Floyd released Azul once he realized he wasn’t cumming again any time soon.

“Aw, it didn’t work...”

“No duh, fish brain, ‘cause only I can do it.~”

Floyd sent a glare your way and you stuck your tongue out at him in return. His frown curled into a grin as an idea came to mind.

“Oh oh, I bet I can bite Azul more than you can, and make him cum more too!~”

You gawked in disbelief.

“No you can’t! I would win, obviously.” You crossed your arms and grinned smugly.

“Well, why not put that to the test, dear Y/N?”

You perked up and looked over to see Jade had moved your partner so that he was now resting his back against Jade’s chest, tilting his head so that he could examine the damage of the two bitemarks left by his siblings. You watched as he carefully bit another mark into him, right next to the one left by his twin.

Azul let out a moan, cock leaking with precum at the sensation. You quietly growled at the sight of their bitemarks claimed more space on your partner than yours did. A challenging flare crossed from within your eyes and you scooted over to get closer. Floyd followed suit, the three of you properly sandwiching the poor octomer between all of you.

“You are so on.”

The twins’ smiles twisted into something all too familiarly dangerous and playful.

Azul gulped nervously, but the twitching of his stiff cock told another story.

Azul blinked up at the ceiling.

His body felt sore all over, the throbbing pain from each bitemark left on his body had dulled down to a mild sting by now. He slowly looked over to one side to look at the clock. Several hours have passed since he fell asleep after his little “session.”

He noticed one of the eel twins clinging to the side of him, looking over the other side to spot the other pressed against him. Both were sleeping deeply on either side of him, sandwiching him still.

He then drew his attention to the weight on top of him to see you snuggled up against his chest, face buried in his bare shoulder, teeth gnawing gently against him in your sleep. He sighed, closing his eyes once more to try and drift off to sleep and deal with this mess later.

Azul’s slumber was disturbed once more at the sound of three muffled voices arguing around him. He begrudgingly peeled his eyelids open to the sight of three blurry figures surrounding him. One figure, who he assumed was Jade, was tending to his wounds, lightly dabbing a warm washcloth on his marks and then applying medicine and bandages.

The other two figures were clinging onto him, you with your arms wrapped around his already tended to arm, and Floyd sprawled out on his lap. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, still exhausted from the sibling’s treatment of his poor body. He merely listened to the conversation in calm silence.

“I left more marks on him, so I won!“

“Nuh-uh! I left more on him than you did, so I won!“

“Yeah, well, mine were deeper!”

“So fucking what?!”

“And I made him cum more too!”

“No you most certainly did not you liar!″

“Mine made him moan more.”

Jade piped in, not looking at either sibling, focusing on wrapping a particular deep bitemark to make sure it was properly tended to and minimize the pain. His twin and younger sibling glared at him for interrupting their banter.

“Oh yeah? Well mine made him squeal really loud that one time, so there!”

“That’s ‘cause you nearly reached his bone and he was in legit pain, Floyd.”

You deadpanned, making your older brother pout, mumbling under his breath.

“Actually, I think it’s the one Jade is wrapping up right now.“

The both of you, along with Azul, looked over to Jade and saw that he had just finished, already moving on to the next wound.

“It was. Next time, be more careful, Floyd. Azul was practically weeping after your teeth sunk in.

“Aw, but he’s so cute when he cries.~”

You nodded in agreement.

“While I must agree, we should aim to make him cry from pleasure, not pain.”

“Fi~ne...”

‘How in the Great Sevens’ name did he get to this point in his life?’ Azul wondered while he looked back up at the ceiling, listening to the droning of the Leech siblings discussing what they’d do to him next time.

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland Smut #TWST Smut #Azul Ashengrotto X Reader #Floyd Leech X Azul Ashengrotto #Jade Leech X Azul Ashengrotto #Jade Leech X Azul Ashengrotto X Floyd Leech #GN!Reader #What's a little competition between siblings ay?

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stoopid-turtle · 1 year ago

Text

On the Acceptance of Unsteady Ground

Throughout this whole dive into turtle world, I've been very conscious of just how LITTLE access to information I have. I'm relying so heavily on English translations and platforms, and most of these are from turtles, so I'm fully aware I'm getting a biased perspective.

I've tried to read stuff from solos or even just neutral third-parties. The neutral parties don't have much depth of information, though, and I found solos heavy on accusations and declarations but light on actual...evidence. And they sometimes use some really nasty rhetoric against the idea that gg and dd might be gay.

Don't get me wrong, turtles get weird too. There's plenty of clearly false rumors, deceptively edited videos, silly stretches of logic, weird ideas of what how people in a relationship would act, etc. But there's at least enough English-speaking turtles that I can find some who are giving open and, as far as I can tell, accurate information (honestly, I find tumblr turtledom better at that then other platforms). I haven't really found a similar pocket of solo fans.

I'm also aware that there's always going to be a limit on how much I can know. I don't speak the language, so I'm always relying on translators. I have limited access to Weibo (even putting aside the language barrier, I'm in text confirmation limbo in actually getting an account), and I have little familiarity with the culture. I don't get a lot of the jokes or references, and stuff may strike me, an English-speaking American, differently than it would someone in China.

Add on top of that the fact that I'm trying to find out purposely obscured information about two celebrities, and, yeah, I'm fully aware that I'm on unsteady ground here. I can do my best, but I'm never going to know anything for certain.

But I've become okay with that.

It took a while. The dissatisfaction with the unknown (and unknowable) is what drove a lot of my early fixation and subsequent fall into the turtle pit. But now, especially after laying out my thoughts, I've reached a zen place with it. I'm 100% certain ggdd were together during filming/promo, and I'm 95% certain they're still together (I had this at 85% originally, but then the whole dd being sick and gg changing his schedule thing happened and I'm just...welp, guess I'm in this confidence interval, then).

Just having that certainty means I can enjoy updates from them without anguishing about "proof" or uncertainty. Oh, gg took the day off on dd's birthday? That's really sweet! I'm not gonna fuss about if it's coincidence ENOUGH to convince me, because I'm already convinced. It's a good place to be.

I typically don't care about celebrities. In fact, I've long been bewildered by celebrity culture here in the US, and I've often been actively annoyed when people assume/expect me to have opinions on things celebrities do. I'm the nerd who doesn't get why the actors get all the attention when the writer or director would be much more interesting.

So the fact that I've gone all fangirlish over two celebrities is bizarre to me, and I appreciate the irony. Well done, me. I attribute some of it to just being able to watch the bts and see their early interactions play out like a story. I find stories compelling, and both gg and dd are charismatic, attractive and have great chemistry. Whatever disdain I have for celebs, I do love a romance.

In my foray into the ggdd world, though, I've also had to learn more about c-ent, and y'all. It's nuts. Like, US entertainment is nuts too, but c-ent ratchets it up to 11. I've been in fandom a long time, and I thought I'd seen some weird stuff, but it's got nothing on c-ent. Just wrapping my head around the culture these guys are in took a lot of learning.

But I appreciate being able to dive into this culture and this country, because I knew very little about China beyond the antagonistic politics. It's been refreshing to get a view on life on the ground in China to humanize the folks there and get a clearer picture of the country.

I started this thing bc I had been spending so much time on Youtube watching clips, and I had thoughts and opinions and nowhere to put them. I already had a tumblr that I use to lurk on some fandoms and I had started following turtles too. I figured tumblr would be a decent place to splurge out my thoughts, so I set up a throwaway account to do so.

I get the vibe that a lot of new turtles come to bjyx through the same route I took? They watch The Untamed on Netflix. They get curious about the show and start watching some clips on YT. Next thing you know, they have 3 playlists full of purported "proof of love" and they need a whiteboard to connect everything together and their wife thinks they've gone completely bonkers supports them in all their oddities.

Like, I was really confused by turtles at first. I was just trying to watch bts videos on YouTube and I didn't know what bjyx meant, but the videos with the label were weird and had strange disclaimers that they were "only for turtles" and I had no clue what that even meant.

My confusion continued as I tried to read more. The fake story disclaimer convention is hella confusing as an outsider, and my first impression was that turtles were kinda crazy. The videos I saw gave overviews of candies without context, and some of them explicitly said they were proof of Yizhan love while still having that fake story disclaimer. Basically, it was a big confusing environment, and it's why I resisted buying into bjyx so hard for so long. It all seemed delulu.

But in reading more, I guess part of that is the point? Recognizing that gg and dd are in a vulnerable position should their relationship ever come out, having so much noise to muddy the waters makes a twisted, clownish sense. I don't know who came up with that convention or if it just kinda happened (is it a normal thing in c-ent? I don't know enough about celebrity fandoms), but hats off, I guess.

With the supertopic recently hitting 4 million active fans, there's something heartening about such a depth of support for the guys. I'm not naive enough to think all 4 million (plus international fans) are allies to LGBT folk in general, but it surely means something to ggdd to have that sort of support for their relationship. Honestly, it means something to me, as a random gay chick on the other side of the world, to see a gay couple get that kinda of support behind them.

I started watching the bts because I was afraid there'd be a lot of cynical homophobia on the set or some evidence of all the male cast being icked out by the whole thing. Instead, I got gg, who was so passionate about WWX being gay. I love that everybody knew they were telling a love story with as explicitly as they could get away with. I love that the guys wanted more Wangxian scenes and that the cast and crew made "everyday is everyday" jokes in a non-mocking way. I'm glad that the whole shoot seemed like such a positive environment for the cast and crew to being themselves and tell a type of story that they may not be able to be involved with ever again.

So, yes, this is my zen turtle place. When I set up a soapbox for myself, I didn't think too much about the fact that people would respond, but I'm so grateful to have had a chance to talk to some other turtles! Everybody is lovely and thank you for sharing my enthusiasm.

Like I said in the beginning, I don't have the time to keep super-active in the long-term. I had intended to write up my thoughts and poof away. But I do also plan to keep up with gg and dd and turtles, so instead I'm just gonna leave off with the potential for further posts down the line.

I'm not gonna be incredibly active, so please don't expect frequent updates or interactions from me. But if I have more Yizhan thoughts I'll pop up again with a post (I mean, I do have lots more thoughts, but nothing energizing enough to write about), or I'll leave a comment somewhere if I have something I simply must say. I'm also open to responding to asks about the timeline or anything else. And if I ever do stumble across anything groundbreaking with regards to the timeline, I'll probably add that in, because I'm particular about things being complete.

So thanks for being so welcoming! It's been a joy to clown around and make up completely fictional stories with everybody here. 🤡🐢🙇🏼

#yizhan #bjyx #gg and dd keep being ridiculous and it makes me ridiculous #also always gonna read moar fanfic #rooting for them #waiting for that tell-all book

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