#he may have some anger issues here and there but hes not bad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

quietstormxr · 26 days ago

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You'll Survive

Garrick Tavis x Reader

Angst/Violence

Again breaking my heart here, just Garrick this time, as requested.

Summary: Garrick leaves for War Games and you are determined to forget him.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/n: Mentions of Tourture/some swearing, some Iron Flames spoilers

Should we have our angry bad ass girl give Garrick an ass kicking in a part 2?

The anger turned in to absolute despair. How could things have gotten so bad? The last words you exchanged with him were in anger and now you’d never be able to take them back. You’d never know if you really meant anything to him or not. At the same time, you couldn’t decide if you cared or not.

The anger that rotted in your core the entire time you were away was rooted farther than anything you’d ever felt before. He wouldn’t fight for you to join him, but there was Imogen, looking at you with a smug look on her face. You couldn’t help the way your face hardened, and a steely glare settled across your features.

You had seen the way she looked at him when you weren’t around and knew there had to be something there. Whether or not he still felt something, you were unsure. But the minute he turned his back to you and walked towards Imogen for War Games, you felt there was more there than he ever led on.

You thought back to the last words that you exchanged and couldn’t help the regret that filled every part of your body.

“So that’s it, huh?” You breathe as Garrick walks towards you. “You won’t even try to convince Xaden to take me?”

“You’re a first year, there’s no reason for you to be with the Wingleader’s headquarters squad.” He said back a calm determination on his face.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. Especially given the fact that he’s taking two other first years.” You snapped back viciously.

“You’re to go with the rest of your squad. You’ll survive without me for a few days.” He says nonchalantly.

After that statement, you couldn’t control the raging inferno that coated your veins and made a home in your stomach. Hot and corrosive, you couldn’t help the way you wanted to punch him straight in the face.

“I see.” You say as you look past Garrick at Imogen still smirking at you smugly. “Well, I hope you enjoy your trip with your girl, because it certainly isn’t me.” You spit as you turn sharply and mount your dragon.

‘Let’s go Diomat.’ You demand as you refuse to look back down at the infuriating man before you.

‘With pleasure, Bold One.’ Diomat confirms and immediately lifts into the air, but not before issuing a warning growl to your Section Leader.

You refuse to look back and see what emotion Garrick could possibly have on his face. Was he even hurt at what you said or was he smirking that you would ever dare to think he’d want you?

You fly for Eltuval and let the cold wind try to cool the flames that seem to lick underneath your skin. You refuse to let that man be the reason you lose your focus. You let the anger simmer in the hours it takes for you to get to your outpost.

As soon as you feel Diomat begin her descent, you take a deep breath closing your eyes and try to let the anger filter out of your body. You walk forward to the outpost and listen to the directions of your squad leader and senior leadership.

Everything seemed to be going according to leaderships plan, until you find yourself slightly farther from the outpost than you anticipated. You’re unsure why, but you were sent to the northwestern most part of region your squad was to be patrolling. You hear a roar that sounds like a dragon and you turn in your seat and look, only to see what appears to be a grey dragon.

You furrow your brow in confusion as you notice it only has two legs and then watch as it spits blue fire.

‘Diomat, is there another dragon breed we aren’t taught about?’ You ask with fear starting to lace your mental voice.

‘That is no dragon.’ Diomat replies fiercely.

‘Well, are you going to tell me what it is if it isn’t a dragon?’

‘I believe your leadership may have forced us into a situation we weren’t expecting.’ Diomat snarls. ‘Those abominations are wyvern. I believe you know the stories about them and their creators.’

Your eyes widen and dart between your dragon and the grey wyvern that is flying into the neighboring Poromish town.

‘Wh-Wha-What?’ Even your thoughts begin to stammer as you try to puzzle the pieces together. ‘Why would they send us out here if they knew about this? What are we supposed to do Diomat?’

Your thoughs are a jumble and you can’t seem to process anything. Within the few seconds that were spent hovering in the air to examine the creature, it has now set its sights on you.

“SHIT!” You say as the large grey mass starts barreling towards you at untenable speeds.

‘Hold on.’ Diomat commands as she begins climbing above the cover of the trees.

‘Is there a way to kill this thing?’ You question in a panic, hoping beyond hope that there’s a solution to this.

‘Do you still have the dagger the Section Leader gave to you?’

You furrow your brows while you pull the runed dagger from the sheath at your calf. You pull it out and your eyes blow wide. Where there was just a normal dagger before, now the hilt is glowing a soft blue color and you can feel the magic thrum through your fingers.

‘This can kill them?’

‘Yes, do you remember what venin look like? Can you transform into what you remember from the descriptions of your book? If so, you may be able to drop down and kill it.’ Diomat explains as we continue to dip, dive, and weave through heavy tree coverage.

‘You want me to get on the back of the wyvern?!?’ You ask incredulously at the plan your dragon has just drawn in your mind.

‘Yes, because you are more than capable of doing this. You are a powerful rider. My rider. And I know that you can do this.’ Diomat says with a tone of absolute conviction.

If only your mind was as certain in your abilities as Diomat’s mind is.

‘You will need to aim for the chest that should be the weakest part.’ Diomat confirms before you notice her slowing down.

You turn your head and watch as blue flames continue to blow directly behind your dragon gaining on you second by second. Diomat begins to dip down even further while you begin to float through the memories of the stories of the venin.

You remember the billowing robes, the red veins, the color of their eyes reflecting their bloodlust for power and finally the veins that mar their tarnished skin. You settle on a full picture in the art gallery in your mind and take a deep breath reaching for Diomat’s power. When you look down at yourself next, your clothes are no longer riding leathers, but a purple robe that looks tattered and moth eaten. You continue to look down at your hands and can’t help the panic that flares to life in your chest when you see the red veins coating every inch of your fingers.

‘You are still you, Bold One. I would not let you tarnish yourself.’ Diomat consoles as you feel pride radiating from your bond.

‘Okay, Diomat. Let’s take down this thing.’ You think back closing away all the insecurities plaguing your mind.

Soon enough Diomat is slowing down but lifting you both to the clouds. As you burst through the tree line, you watch as the wyvern continues flying towards where it thought you still were. Slowly you begin to descend and rise from the seat of your dragon and walk towards her front left leg.

‘This is why I have not been going easy on you, Bold One. I will not leave my rider unprepared, even if the Section Leader wanted to keep this from you.’

As Diomat begins to descend, you look up to the sky and pray to Zinhal that this plan will work. After that one thought, you close your eyes for just a second and let yourself free fall.

You land with a smack onto a rough grey surface, and you lock every muscle in your body tight.

Is this why Garrick was always disappearing for hours on end?

You shake your head trying to waft off any other thoughts of the Section Leader when you are trying to kill the beast below you. You cautiously make your way up to the neck scales, until you look up and realize, those aren’t scales, they are feather razors.

You crouch down next to the neck and plunge the dagger you have down as hard as you possibly can. Not expecting the bounce back, you end up being bucked against the razor mane on the neck of the wyvern as the beast bucks and writhes trying to dislodge your dagger.

You pull yourself forward and wrap both hands around the blade and jump in front of its wing.

‘Catch me Diomat.’ You think as you feel yourself falling while your dagger peels through the rough skin of the wyvern.

Your dagger finally breaks free, and you are free falling towards the line of trees.

‘DIOMAT!’

‘Coming, Bold One!’ You hear Diomat’s voice break causing you to let fear take over as you fall faster and faster.

Your pull on your power lessens and you watch as the robes become your leathers again. You try to bring your leg up and sheath the dagger back at your calf. The next thing you feel is your head hitting branches and your vision swims momentarily. You feel your emotions tugging at you that this is the end, and you will meet Malek today.

‘No, you are destined for great things, Y/N. You will not die today.’ Diomat says authoritatively.

As if on command at that statement, you finally feel yourself crash into bumpy scales. It takes all the effort you can muster to grab for Diomat’s pommel to stop your own acceleration. You can feel your arms protesting the amount of strength it’s taking to say on while your back screams from the lashes of the wyverns razored feathers.

Diomat continues to try and stop both your acceleration and keep pace back towards the outpost. You grunt in response to the effort and try to pull yourself back into the seat. Everything in your body is telling you to give in to the sweet call of sleep, but you know you need to wait until you get back to the outpost.

As you fly closer to Eltuval, you can’t help but feel like something is wrong. You look around at the field where your squad’s dragons had been landing the last four days and see them all gone.

‘Where did the squad go?’

‘Nokass just confirmed that all Basgiath squads have headed back to the Citadel.’

At that you perk up and your body goes rigid. Did they set you up and leave you to die? Didn’t anyone else see what had happened?

‘Did Nokass give us any orders?’

‘We are to land and debrief with the cadre here. Besides Bold One, you need to have your wounds tended to.’ Diomat says with a hint of trepidation in her voice.

‘Should I tell them about the wyvern?’

‘No. Tell them you fell off when we were accelerating while practicing flight maneuvers.’

You send your understanding back through the bond and dismount Diomat. You don’t make it far before you are escorted by two lieutenants that met you at the flight field. You enter the infirmary there and lay down.

Soon enough your wounds are tended to, and the mender confirms you need to rest. You fall into a fitful sleep that focuses on wyvern, venin, and a certain dark-haired Section Leader that seems to have been keeping more from you than you ever realized.

You wake in a sweat and look around confused before realizing where you are. It’s another two days before you are given clearance to leave, which luckily the senior cadre of the outpost seemed to have bought the story that Diomat told you to spin.

You are given orders to return to Basgiath and a note confirming the reason for your absence.

Hours later, you are flying on Diomat with the wind battering your new scars and broken thoughts. How much had he been hiding from you this entire time? What did he really know? Were you just a little plaything for him?

As you watch the sun rise, you set your jaw and take a deep breath. You know at this point there is no need in worrying. Graduation is done, and he has most likely been sent to his outpost. You try to let yourself settle at the realization that you’ll never see him again.

When you land in the flight field, you are surprised to see a green dragon seemingly just returning from a flight with their rider. You look over and realize who it is.

Bodhi.

As you draw closer with Diomat, you watch as he turns his head and looks back before whipping it back around with wide surprised eyes.

‘Apparently there was miscommunication. Your squad and the Section Leader were told your name was reported for the death rolls.’ Diomat relays with irritation.

Your eyebrows fly up and eyes widen in surprise. Did none of Basgiath cadre know that you’d been in the infirmary at Eltuval? Why would you have been reported for the death rolls before confirmation would’ve been sent from the outpost?

You clutch harder to the orders that you were given as you dismount. You trip forward slightly as your blood rushes back into your legs, your body protesting every movement as everything is still tight from your body needing additional recovery. You slowly stand to your feet and as you look up you are met by surprised brown eyes.

“Wha – How?” You watch as Bodhi sputters. “We were told you were dead. Your name was to be read on the death rolls tomorrow.”

You look at him with a dead panned expression and say in a flat voice. “Well obviously someone got their information wrong.”

You go to turn and walk away, ready to dispel the myths about your apparent demise before you feel Bodhi’s hand on your elbow.

“You need to write to Garrick. He’s an absolute mess.” He says and you can see the sorrow reflected in his gaze for his brother.

“I don’t need to do anything.” You say back coldly, the lies and the way he didn’t fight for you taking forefront in your mind.

“And you won’t be telling him either.” You warn. “He made his choices. Those things don’t change just because I happen to be alive.”

You watch as a grimace crosses Bodhi’s face clearly remembering the way that you departed for War Games.

“Besides,” you whisper as you step into Bodhi’s space bringing your mouth to his ear. “I was too busy fighting off and killing a wyvern to worry about writing.”

You relish the way Bodhi’s eyes flash with realization that not only did Garrick leave you behind, but you also now know what he was trying to keep hidden.

“How about this.” You pull back and add with a challenging tone. “How about you and the rest of your marked friends keep my secret and I’ll keep yours? Hmm.”

You watch as Bodhi seems to weigh his options before nodding in defeat, his head falling forward.

“Good. Pleasure doing business with you Durran.” You purr venomously.

You fully turn now and walk purposefully towards the Commandant’s office looking to clear yourself. You will not let Garrick’s feelings over your supposed death completely erase the way he left you behind and apparently never trusted you in the first place.

As you stride through the halls of the Rider’s Quadrant, you begin to relish the looks of shock from everyone around you. You briefly wonder if you’re the only person who was seemingly resurrected after War Games, but the thought is fleeting when you feel a body run straight into you, tearing the breath out of you.

“Gods. How are you alive? Where have you been?” You look up to realize that you’ve been engulfed in a hug by your best friend and squad mate and crack the first smile you’ve had in days.

“Let’s just say the front gave Diomat and I some personal surprises on our patrol. Ones that landed me in Eltuval’s Infirmary for two days after you all left.” You say while trying to evade the full answer to the question.

“I knew it wouldn’t be that easy to kill you.” His answer causes a laugh to bubble out of you involuntarily.

“Come on, I have to go deliver this to Pancheck before everyone really thinks I’m dead.” You pull him along and head towards the Commandant’s headquarters.

Weeks pass and you get back to normal or whatever can possibly pass as your new normal. You can’t help the way you notice those that were in Resson are being targeted for what you assume is the same knowledge you now have. However, for whatever reason the cadre seems to have bought your story, at least for now.

You’ve also been avoiding the dirty looks Imogen gives you any time you happen to be in the same room. Why the hell can’t she just leave you alone? She got what she wanted, so you can’t understand what her issue is. Though luckily for you, your deal with Bodhi makes sure you don’t have to worry about her little obsession worrying over you.

You’ve avoided Violet like the absolute plague ever since returning and was lucky enough to be shuffled into a squad with no marked ones after the disaster that was parapet.

You’ve heard people talking about Riorson coming back to Basgiath, but you’ve so far been lucky to avoid him. Until one day in the rotunda you’re walking to your next class and you’re unfortunate enough to see him standing not far away talking to Bodhi.

You watch as he looks up and directly at you and then whip his heads around again towards you before blinking several times and rubbing his eyes. Fortunately for you, practicing with your signet has you ready for this unfortunate meeting. As soon as you see him, you immediately change your hair and eye color, along with angling out your features more.

You look towards your squad mate to your right and smirk as his features slacken slightly at your change in appearance.

“Stop gawking or Riorson is going to get suspicious.” You tell him lowly.

He shakes his head and moves his eyes to back in front of you. You both continue to walk on your way to your next class and enter the door taking a seat.

“Since when can you do that?” He asks now looking at you with open fascination.

“Since about right before we left for War Games last year. Diomat and I practiced while everyone else was too busy getting drunk before the Reunification Day party. Just haven’t had the reason to show off my skills.” You recount.

“I can change pretty much my entire appearance.” You relay as you begin to smirk again and completely transform yourself into looking like your friend in front of you.

“Well godsdamn. I look absolutely fabulous.” He quips.

With that you break down and start laughing uncontrollably. With that loss of fine control, you morph back into your own form. You watch as suddenly his face turns serious.

“Have you really not written or heard from Tavis?” He asks a hint of trepidation at the topic hitting his voice.

“No.” You sigh before replying. “I convinced Durran that he had to keep the secret of my existence to himself and the rest of his marked friends here in exchange for a favor to them as well. So, my secret is safe with me, which is why I didn’t want Riorson to see me. He’s unaware of his cousin’s deal.”

Your friend shakes his head in comprehension and you both face forward as the professor comes into the class.

Weeks continue to fly by in a whir of classes and idiotic RSC challenges. At this point, you don’t even know what the class is even worth. They aren’t truly giving anyone the whole story and battle brief continues to be a joke.

You have started training with Diomat after classes hoping to get better at flight maneuvers so that you’re truly prepared for the upcoming war. It’s after a grueling training session with her that you are taken by surprise while walking back to your room.

Before you can react to protect yourself, you feel something blunt slam into the back of your head and your vision swims before you fall to a heap on the ground.

As you slowly wake up, you can’t seem to stop the incessant pounding in your head. Your head rolls back and forth as you try to shake off the haze. When your eyes open, you are met with a dirt ceiling that looks like it has been carved in the underground.

You try to move your arms and feel the sharp bite of iron around your wrists and biceps. You sit up straight just to find yourself strapped to a wooden chair. You shake your head again and look around searching for your squad mates like you would normally find for the special torture that is RSC.

Unfortunately for you, there isn’t anyone else here. You hear footsteps from outside the door and draw in a quick breath stealing yourself for whatever horror is coming your way.

As the door opens you smell the sour stench of body odor and hair oil that permeates the air. As you take in the man before you confusion knits your brow.

Why would Varrish be here? You hadn’t done anything to draw attention to yourself since returning from War Games. Did Bodhi or one of the marked ones sell you out?

You have little more time to think about what is happening before you feel a hand connect with your cheek. You let out a grunt as your head whips to the side and pain bursts across your mouth.

“Seems fitting after all of your lies to be sitting in this chair, doesn’t it?” He croons as he slowly walks around the chair you are strapped to.

“I don’t know what lies you speak of Vice Commandant.” You spit. The last thing you will do is break to this disgusting husk of a man.

“Oh, I believe you do.” He sneers. “You and Sorrengail will be instrumental in getting Riorson and Tavis to spill everything they know.”

You can’t help the sarcastic huff that leaves you. The bitter taste of anger and betrayal still whirring inside you.

“You’ll find that you are wrong about Tavis.” You protest vehemently. “His affections lie elsewhere. You are wasting your time with me.”

A sickening sneer of a smile crosses Varrish’s face and you know that nothing you will say will change his mind.

“Oh, I’m aware he may think you’re dead. But that doesn’t mean when he arrives you won’t be bait for him.” He whispers as he leans in close where the stench of him is almost enough to make you sick.

He then rears back, and head butts you in the face and you hear a sickening crunch before the blood starts pouring from your nose. You try to hold in your scream, but it’s no use. You know he won’t stop until he gets what he wants from you.

“Just give me some information and you can have your connection to your dragon back and you can go back to class, no one the wiser.”

You lift your chin in defiance at the vile man in front of you and let the blood from your broken nose into your mouth before spitting it right in his face. There’s no doubt in your mind that you will not risk your dragon or anyone else’s life to save your own.

It takes a few hours before you realize that this torture will be never ending. Immediately after you think he is finished; he calls in Nolon to mend your body multiple times a day.

“Is it really worth keeping their secrets?” Nolon asks a note of sympathy and regret in his eyes as he mends your broken collarbone.

“I will give my life for anyone’s. Secrets or no.” You spit at the man you had once seen as a kind and gentle soul.

Nolon shakes his head and continues his work as you try to push away the pain of mending and focus on anything else.

It’s about the eighth time that Nolon has come in to mend you before you start to feel like giving up may be the only option.

“Can’t you just let me die already?” You viciously call back to the man healing you just so you can be broken again.

“I’m sorry cadet, but this can all stop when you answer the Vice Commandant’s questions.”

You turn your head away from him, not wanting to give him any more attention and let your body slip into unconsciousness.

What seems like eternities later, you hear commotion outside the door that you’ve been holed up in. As you fade in and out from pain, you hear voices but you’re unsure of who they belong to. A strong crack in the rocks of the cell makes you jolt conscious, but you’re still unsure of what’s going on.

“Wait.” You hear a male voice call. “Vi wasn’t the only one down here.”

“What are you talking about Aetos?” You hear a gruff voice call back. Your foggy mind wants to say it’s Garrick, but you know that must be impossible.

The next thing you know, the lock of the door is clicking open, and you turn your head to see what your next form of torture will be.

As you look up, you meet warm brown eyes that shine with concern.

“I didn’t realize you gave a damn about anyone but Violet, Aetos.” You rasp back, your voice disjointed from the amount of screaming you’d done and the number of times you’d been almost choked to death.

“Luckily for you I knew that they took someone besides just Violet.” He says rushing to the chair. “Do you think you’ll be able to stand?”

You try and shrug your shoulders, but everything in your body seems to weigh ten times the amount it normally does. Aetos continues to unhook the restraints around your body and soon enough is trying to help lift you.

Your broken tibia screams in protest, but the action of moving on your own two feet is not something you’re willing to give up. As you slowly make your way out of the cell, you both turn and look up. Staring back at you are a pair of stunned hazel eyes.

You watch as Garrick’s eyes widen to the point of concern, and he falls to his knees seeming to not believe what he’s seeing. As you stare at him, you watch as tears begin to swim in his eyes. The anger and helplessness you’ve been feeling curls around you and you close your eyes in anguish.

“You were right.” You rasp slowly with a thoughtful pause.

“I guess I did survive.” You say before your overwhelming feelings and pain draws you under.

#fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing x reader #garrick tavis #xaden riorson #bodhi durran #bodhi durran x reader #garrick tavis x reader #fourth wing xaden

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solxamber · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! I saw your fic(?) On the reader being similar to the white rabbit!

So I had a similar idea but with absolem the caterpillar from Alice in wonderland. With heartslabyul, octavinelle and pomefiore (added on maybe chenya ?). Basically the reader is a 2nd year and is a very cocky person when it comes to things like subjects they get high scores in along with having bad anger issues? This is just an idea I have at the top of my head 😅 I also don't make requests often if that was clear lol.

Thank you if reading my request ! :)

It's been so long since I read Alice in Wonderland but I hope this is what you wanted <3

Absolem! Reader with Heartslabyul, Octavinelle and Pomefiore + Che'nya

Rest of the characters: here

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle Rosehearts had no idea how to handle you. On one hand, you were technically a model student—when you weren’t terrorizing everyone with your arrogance, that is. On the other hand, your cocky attitude made his eye twitch like he was seconds away from writing up a whole new rule just for your ego.

“You may have gotten the highest score in Alchemy,” Riddle said stiffly, his hands clenched behind his back like he was bracing himself for an incoming tidal wave of sass, “but that does not excuse you from following protocol during experiments!"

You leaned back in your chair, all smug grin and half-lidded eyes. “Oh, Riddle, Riddle, Riddle. If I followed your ‘protocol,’ we’d still be stuck trying to figure out how to transmute lead into potatoes.”

His face flushed as red as a rose. “That is not the point!”

“I’m just saying,” you replied with a shrug, “your rules are cute, but some of us prefer actual results.”

There was a long, tension-filled silence. Then, Riddle’s lips twitched, and you could almost hear his brain rewriting Rule 392: No Sassing The Dorm Leader.

Trey Clover

If Trey had a talent, it was the ability to defuse a situation with nothing more than a laid-back smile and a soft-spoken word or two. But when it came to your outbursts, even Trey occasionally had to roll up his sleeves.

“You’re getting pretty fired up over here, huh?” Trey said, folding his arms and giving you that calm, big-brother smile.

You narrowed your eyes. “They just don’t get it, Trey. If they’d actually listen to me, we’d be done with these stupid group projects in half the time.”

Trey hummed, still as placid as ever. “Maybe. Or maybe they just don’t appreciate being called ‘incompetent cabbage heads’ every time they mess up.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t call them that this time.”

“Oh, my mistake. That was last week.” Trey chuckled, grabbing a cupcake from a tray. “Anyway, maybe you should try a new approach. Like, I don’t know... baking?”

You squinted at him suspiciously. “Is this another one of your ‘therapy via baked goods’ attempts? Because the last time I tried, Cater put the whole thing on Magicam, and I’m still seeing memes about ‘exploding tarts.’”

Trey just smiled knowingly. “Everyone’s gotta start somewhere.”

Cater Diamond

“#MoodSwings, am I right?”

Cater had this incredible (and incredibly annoying) ability to pop up just when you were about to lose it. Today was no different. You were fuming over some insignificant thing someone said in class, and right when you were about to explode, there he was, phone at the ready.

“I swear, if you tag me in another one of your posts—” you started, but he was already snapping pics, duck-lip selfie style.

“Whoa, chill, bestie! It’s not my fault you’ve got that ‘rage extrodinaire’ aesthetic. The followers eat it up. Seriously, you should start a channel. #CaterToYourAnger.”

You glared. “I’d start with a video called ‘How to Get Away with Smashing Cater’s Phone.’”

Cater grinned, absolutely unfazed. “Aww, love you too, cupcake. Just think of all the likes we’d get!”

Ace Trappola

Ace? Oh, Ace lived to rile you up. He thrived on it like a plant soaking in the sun.

“So,” he said, leaning back against the wall with a smug grin, “I heard you were bragging about your Potions grade again. Shocking.”

You glared daggers at him. “I don’t have to brag. The results speak for themselves. Unlike your grades, which are probably hiding in the shadow of your last failed test.”

“Oof, that’s cold. You sure you’re not secretly studying Ice Magic?” Ace shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You know, all that boasting is just you overcompensating for something. Like, maybe you’re secretly terrible at everything else?”

Your temper flared instantly, and you stepped closer, ready to unleash your wrath. “Say that again, and I’ll show you what happens when—”

“Oh, hold on—Deuce! Hey, Deuce!” Ace shouted, and before you could lay into him, Deuce was running over, looking confused and ready to brawl for no reason.

“Are we fighting? We’re fighting, right?” Deuce asked, fists already up.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Deuce, no one’s fighting.”

“Yet,” Ace muttered with a wink, and you had to resist the urge to scream.

Deuce Spade

Deuce tried. He really did. But no matter how hard he tried to match your fiery personality, he just couldn’t seem to get it quite right.

“You know, I’ve been practicing too,” Deuce said one day, puffing out his chest like he was about to impress you. “I’m getting better at Transfiguration!”

You blinked. “Really? Didn’t you turn someone’s textbook into a chicken by accident last week?”

Deuce’s face turned red. “I-It wasn’t a chicken! It was... okay, maybe it was a chicken, but I’m improving!”

“Sure you are,” you teased, crossing your arms. “I bet your next experiment will turn the whole dorm into a petting zoo.”

Deuce stared at you for a moment, clearly weighing his options. “...That would actually be kinda cool.”

You facepalmed. “Deuce, please.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul wasn’t intimidated by your cockiness. No, in fact, he saw it as something to be... monetized. Because why not take that overblown confidence of yours and turn it into something profitable for the Mostro Lounge?

“You could be quite the business partner,” Azul remarked, smiling slyly from across his desk. “With your top grades and undeniable talent, I’m sure students would pay handsomely for tutoring sessions.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What’s the catch?”

Azul feigned innocence. “Catch? Why, there’s no catch at all. Just a little... arrangement. I take a modest percentage of the profits, and in return, you gain access to the resources of the Mostro Lounge. Think of it as... a mutually beneficial partnership.”

You tilted your head. “So basically, I do all the work, and you skim off the top?”

Azul’s grin widened. “A shrewd observation, but I prefer the term strategic partnership.”

Jade Leech

Jade, on the other hand, was a master of subtlety. He didn’t confront you head-on like the others did. No, Jade had this unnerving way of quietly watching you, like a predator biding its time.

“Your temper is quite fascinating,” Jade remarked one day, his eerie smile never faltering.

You crossed your arms defensively. “Fascinating how?"

“Oh, just the way it flares up so quickly. It’s almost... predictable.” He tilted his head slightly. “I wonder, how well do you control it in dangerous situations?”

“Why, are you planning to test me or something?” you asked warily, already regretting the question.

Jade chuckled softly. “Oh no, nothing of the sort. I’m merely... observing. You’re quite the specimen, after all.”

You shuddered. “Please stop talking like I’m some kind of lab rat.”

Floyd Leech

Floyd, on the other hand, lived to push your buttons. He loved it when you lost your cool because it meant you were interesting. And Floyd? He thrived on interesting.

“Oi, Shrimpy!” Floyd’s voice echoed across the lounge as he slung an arm around your shoulders. “Heard you got top marks again. Big shot, huh?”

You side-eyed him. “Don’t call me Shrimpy.”

“Awww, but I like it!” he whined, pouting dramatically. “You get all mad when I do it. It’s fun! Do it again! Get mad!”

You groaned. “Why are you like this?”

Floyd grinned, his sharp teeth gleaming. “Why not? It’s more fun to watch you blow a gasket. Maybe I’ll squeeze ya real good next time you freak out.”

You shook him off. “No thanks, I’d rather not have my ribs crushed.”

“Awww, but that’s the best part!”

Vil Schoenheit

Vil couldn’t stand your cocky attitude. Mostly because he couldn’t stand anything that was less than perfection—and in his eyes, you were far from it.

“Such arrogance,” Vil remarked, inspecting his reflection in a compact mirror as you ranted about how no one appreciated your brilliance. “It’s one thing to be talented, but it’s another thing entirely to lack grace.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. Like you’ve never been confident in your own abilities.”

Vil snapped the compact shut, finally looking at you with a sharp, withering gaze. “Confidence is one thing. Vulgarity is is another.” He raised an eyebrow, his perfect lips curving in a condescending smile. “And darling, you’re teetering dangerously close to the latter.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I’m just saying, if everyone else could keep up with me, maybe I wouldn’t have to be this way.”

Vil waved a hand dismissively. “Keep up with you? I highly doubt that. There’s a fine line between confidence and crudeness, and you’ve trampled right over it in those worn-out boots of yours.”

You glanced down at your boots, scowling. “Hey! My boots are perfectly fine!”

Vil gave you a once-over, a pitying sigh slipping from his lips. “I could recommend a stylist, but I doubt even the best could save you from that attitude of yours."

Rook Hunt

If there was anyone who found your fiery personality endlessly amusing, it was Rook. The man seemed to delight in your temper tantrums, treating them like some kind of grand performance.

“Oh, what a magnifique display of passion!” Rook exclaimed one afternoon, after you’d shouted at some poor first-year for knocking into you. “Your fire burns so brightly, it is a wonder you do not set the very air ablaze!”

You glared at him, still fuming. “I’m not trying to entertain you, Rook.”

“But you do! Oh, you do!” Rook clapped his hands together, his eyes shining with admiration. “To witness such raw emotion—it is truly a gift. You are like a tempest, sweeping all in your path.”

“Pretty sure that’s just a fancy way of saying I’m a walking disaster.”

“Non, non, non!” Rook laughed, shaking his head. “You are a force of nature, one that cannot be tamed! To tame such a spirit would be a crime against beauty itself!”

You blinked at him, unsure whether to be flattered or concerned. “Okay, sure. Whatever makes you happy, Rook.”

Epel Felmier

Epel had mixed feelings about you. On one hand, he admired your guts—your temper was something to be feared, and Epel respected that. On the other hand, you were annoying.

“You know, just ‘cause you’re good at Magic History doesn’t mean you gotta rub it in everyone’s face,” Epel grumbled one day after you’d corrected him in class. “Ain’t nobody here tryin’ to hear that.”

You leaned against the desk, a smug grin on your face. “It’s not my fault you can’t keep up. Maybe if you spent more time studying and less time trying to look tough, you’d have better grades.”

Epel’s face turned red. “I am tough! And if you say somethin’ like that again, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” You raised an eyebrow, daring him to continue.

Epel gritted his teeth, fists clenched at his sides. “I’ll... I’ll... kick your butt in PE next time!”

You snorted. “Sure, Epel. Let me know how that goes.”

He muttered something under his breath, probably swearing revenge in the form of some country-style wrestling move, but you were already too busy planning your next academic triumph to care.

Che'nya

Of course, Che’nya didn’t mind your attitude at all. In fact, he found it downright entertaining. He’d pop up at the most inconvenient moments, grinning that mischievous grin of his and waiting for you to lose your cool.

“Nyah~ Why so serious, Y/N?” Che’nya’s voice floated down from seemingly nowhere. “All that steam comin’ outta your ears can’t be good for your health.”

You looked up, scowling as you spotted him lounging in a tree, that trademark grin never leaving his face. “What do you want, Che’nya?”

He tilted his head, blinking innocently. “Just wonderin’ if you were plannin’ to blow a gasket today. I’ve got a front-row seat!"

“Get down here before I make you,” you snapped.

“Oooh, feisty! You know, it’s a good thing you’re not in Wonderland.” He chuckled, disappearing and reappearing right beside you. “You’d fit right in with all the wild tempers down there.”

You rolled your eyes. “And you’d fit right in with the pests.”

Che’nya laughed, not the least bit offended. “Nyah~ You say the sweetest things! See ya around, Hothead.”

And with that, he disappeared again, leaving you to stew in your own frustration. Typical Che’nya.

Masterlist

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realcube · 3 months ago

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CONSEQUENCES

SIR NIGHTEYE SMUT. in which you're a villain who breaks into his house, and he punishes you for it.

tw/tags → nsfw, cursing, implied age gap, vaginal, bondage, fingering, oral (receiving), edging, pet names, impact play, breeding, riding, squirting, overstimulation, brief anal — MINORS DNI

note → oh he's too fine and underrated. smut is labelled if you want to skip to it.

the night was heavy with fog and frost, while the moon shone at the apex of the sky, casting only a soft glow over the big house that stood at the end of the street.

as a child, the house instilled a sense of reverence in you; aspirational and hopeful that one day — if you work hard enough — you may get to live in a house just like that one. but as you grew up, the respect you had slowly faded into seething jealousy and anger, as you realised that no matter how much effort you may put in to your academics or hobbies, you'll always come in second place to those who were gifted at birth with useful quirks, under this flawed system.

that was the beginning of your descent into villainy. and tonight was the night you were finally prove to your younger self that you made the right decision.

standing outside the big house, you stared up at it with a sober expression. you couldn't help but wonder who lived there. all this time you've lived nearby but you've never caught a glimpse of the owner. they were probably some big-headed hero; overpaid and worthless.

if they had enough money to buy such a massive house, they probably could afford all the additional secruity measures too. not that it was an issue for you; your quirk rendered the majority of security essentially useless.

your quirk allowed you to take an incorporeal form, in which you cannot touch or be touched, are invisible and can permeate through matter. however, the major drawback is that you are unable to breath in this form so you can typically only hold it for just over a minute consecutively.

still, a minute leaves you with enough time to rush through the front garden — passed all the cameras — and diffuse through the front door without having to break anything or do any lock-picking.

you don't have much time to scan your surroundings, instead you have to pick a room and study it to make sure there are no cameras or people, before you cease use of your quirk. not only so you can breathe again, but also so you can pick up objects that you want to steal.

you end up choosing the living room as that is where a lot of valubles are kept, and since there doesn't seem to be any cameras, you drop your incorporeal form and start picking up random shit and throwing it into your bag.

while you are doing this, you begin to get a general feel for the type of person that must live here. all their furniture is very modern and sleek and expensive-looking — you'd pick up the whole couch and take it, if you could. overall there is a very mature vibe to the decor, with the exception of a couple All-Might pieces of paraphernalia you find laying around. like a decorative silver silhouette laying on the side table. it was really ugly but you took it anyway because it might be worth something.

you continue going around the room and shovelling items into your bag, wary of your surroundings and who might be lurking. however, as you are sifting through the cabniets under the television, out of no where, you feel a blunt pain against the back of your head and everything went dark.

it stung real bad, and you woke up with a splitting headache. although the first thing you noticed was the pain, once your sight comes back to you and the world stops spinning violently, you become acutely aware of your current situation.

tied up vertically onto some contraption, in what looks to be a dingy basement, and opposite you, sitting at a table, there is a tall, slender man with green hair, sharp features and glasses, which he pushes up the bridge of his nose as he stands up.

"you're awake." he states plainly.

you open your mouth to spit a sly retort, and that is when you realise that you can't because he has taped over your mouth. so instead you furrow your brows and thrash against your contraints to express your displeasure. you hated being caught, but it wasn't a big deal, once you were less winded, you could quite easily slip into your incorporeal form and dart away.

"i see you tried to rob me. i have it recorded, and while you were out i took your fingerprints and a hair sample." the man motions to the contents atop the table, where you could see the tapes and plastic bag which presumably had your hair inside, and he held up the fingerprint samples.

"so i suggest instead of using your quirk to run away, you listen to my offer." he subtly quirks a brow, giving you a once-over to see if you were going to switch form, but instead he sees he has stunned you into complete silence, so he continues.

"perfect." he hums, holding his chin between his thumb and index finger in thought as he paces up and down the length of the table. "i don't think you are an evil villain who means to cause harm to innocents. i think you are a troubled young woman who is mad at hero society. would i be correct in assuming that?"

he looks over his shoulder, briefly awaiting a response and you simply shoot him an unimpressed look with your eyes, since he obviously knows you can't talk.

"right. can't speak." he recalls, then keeps walking, "with a quirk like yours, you could have such a bright and promising future ahead of you. but if i were to report you to the authorities, all that would be soiled because of one terrible decision."

even if you could talk, you didn't feel the need to correct him and say that this wasn't your first time commiting a crime.

"so, i am going to make you an offer. you could use your quirk and run away; i'll hand all of this evidence over to the police, they will catch you eventually and you'll spend the rest of your days rotting in prison. or you can let me handle you myself, and this whole incident will be our little secret."

he slinks up to you, and rips the tape swiftly off your face, causing you to hiss in pain. "what do you say?"

you couldn't lie: something about this man standing so close to you, his hot breath tickling your lips and his intimidating stare glaring right into your soul had your panites pooling with arousal. you shouldn't be so turned on by this situation but you can't stop it.

"what do you mean by 'handle me yourself'?" you cough, finally able to inhale a deep breath.

he tilts his head and explains, "i would put you on the straight and narrow path to rectitude."

"like, with a powerpoint?" you rasp.

he narrows his eyes at you through his glasses, and the intense glare causes you to shudder, "no. i have various methods that will instill cheer and bliss into you." he places his finger under your chin, to hold your face up so you maintain eye-contact with him, "they could be described as sexual in nature."

"some weird pervert fetish." your face contorts to reflect your disgust, though it's merely a guise for your bubbling lust and excitement.

"call it what you want." his piercing yellow eyes stare deeply into yours, "if you would rather not engage, then leave."

you press your lips into a thin line, and interally you relish in how well you got off; not only will you leave scot-free, but also this fine man is going to fuck you silly. a two-in-one! funnily enough, you loathe the alternate reality in which you didn't get caught.

although, despite the slight smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, you don't want to come across as too eager. otherwise, he might not view it as a suitable punishment and the offer will be retracted, so you try to keep the overwhelming joy to yourself.

in an attempt to feign hesitancy, you ask, "how is 'cheer and bliss' going to stop me from being a criminal?"

"i'm glad you asked. shows that you're paying close attention." his intense expression softens for a microsecond as he straightens his back, so you can tell your question pleased him. "i believe laughter and cheer is the backbone of our society and essential in the creation of a brighter future. you've already shown good humour through your ridiculously amusing display of incompetence while trying to rob me. it was thoroughly entertaining to watch."

every word that came out of his mouth was more shocking that the last. never would you expect such a stoic man to be so passionate about comedy and humour. also, you didn't appreciate him calling you incompetent but you kept your mean replies to yourself somehow, thus allowing him to continue,

"when you experience the same joy, you'll understand what i'm referring to and will never return to villainy." he says in a very resounding manner, picking up a long metal rod laying on the table and examining it, "you won't be able to walk properly after our lesson, so at the very least you will not be able to commit any crimes for the next couple of days."

you have no idea where he is going to put that stick, but the possibilities rushing through your mind cause your knees to quiver.

"so, will you be staying for your punishment?" he glances at your figure out of the corner of his eye.

"yes.." you stutter out, still trying to give the impression of a coy, confused girl so he doesn't know how desperate for this you truly are. "but can i ask one more question?"

he takes a piece of fabric out from the pocket of his suit jacket and polishes the metal stick, "you may ask as many questions as you would like, darling."

you gulp slightly, "what should i call you?"

he noticably tenses up for a moment before he gently sets the rod down, then turns to you, while adjusting his glasses, "mirai sasaki. though, you may have heard of me under my hero name: sir nighteye."

"oh, you worked with all might, didn't you? is that why you have so much merchandise of him?"

he nods, "the merchandise you intended to steal, yes."

you frown, frustrated that he was still hung up on that — you thought it was time to move on, but apparently not. "well, i'm sorry about that, sir."

he saunters up where you are tied up, metal rod in hand, and uses it under your chin so you look up to meet his penetrating stare, "if you are good, i might forgive you." he drops the rod and roughly prods the side of your clothed thigh, "we must get rid of these first."

[NSFW]

the contraption that was restricting you held your ankles in such a way that your legs where slightly parted. close enough together to allow sir nighteye to yank your bottoms down in one swift motion, leaving you in your panties. however, your legs were still far enough apart to provide space for his slender fingers to rub your labia through the damp fabric.

you gasp at how sudden he was, though you should've expected only efficiency from such a esteemed man. and it was only now that you take a look down to see your bottoms hanging around your ankles that you notice the contraption was holding you a couple inches off the ground yet he still towered over you.

"so wet already, hm?" he whispers, hot breathe tingling against your neck, his lips only inches away from your tender skin.

"mhm.." you whined, partially embarrassed by him finding out how turned on you are, but mostly too enthralled by his expert fingers against your needy clit to care.

soon, he tugged your panties to the side, circling your labia with his finger to gather your slick before licking those same fingers, promptly sticking them up your soaking cunt, causing you to yelp a little.

however, the pain from the initial stretch to accommodate his two digits quickly faded into pure pleasure. even when he wasn't moving, your eyes were still screwed shut while you moaned endlessly, feebly bucking your hips as much as you could.

he swiftly put an end to your unwanted movements by a harsh wack to the thigh with the metal rod, "behave. the true experience hasn't begun yet."

"when'll it start? i need you.. s' bad, sir." you choke, panting heavily and biting your bottom lip to distract yourself from the unmet needs between your thighs.

"since you asked so nicely." his fingers pump in and out of your pussy, lewd squealing noises echoing through the room with each disgusting slap of his palm against your clit. at first he is slow and thorough, making sure the base of his fingers are right the way inside you before pulling out, even curling them a little which would send a lust-fuelled spark up your spine ever single time.

his pace gradually worked up to being more hasty, more severe. his hand was rapidly thrusting in and out of your hole at a speed you couldn't even begin to compute. and every time you tried, his palm would slam into your clit again and send another mind-numbing jolt of pleasure to your brain.

while you moaned, he watched with a fiery intensity. eyes locked to your face, observing every subtle movement and slight twitch. he was obsessed with the way you looked for him, so greedy yet so innocent. all for his gaze only.

because of how observant he was, as soon as you felt your orgasming coiling inside you, he instantly ceased, preventing you from reaching your climax. once you were able to pry your eyes open, you pouted at him and groan, "huh?"

"not yet." with the cloth kept in his pocket, he carefully wipes clean his slick-coated fingers and gets on his knees. "remember, this is a punishment as well as rehabilitation." his angular features partially hidden between your plush thighs was an interesting sight. but you weren't able to appreciate it for long as your eyes rolls back into your head at the euphoric feeling of his tongue plummeting into your hole.

it squirms around, getting a taste for your juices, resulting in a hungry moan from him against your pussy, the vibrations tickling your clit. his lips lap it all up, while his tongue works your aching insides, plunging into you repeatedly.

exploring within the confines of your tight walls, eventually the tip of his tongue finds the gummy spot in you that makes your toes curl every time he brushes up against it. his mouth fucks you out feverishly; such an austere man losing his restraint was such a turn on for you, and had your pussy clenching around his tongue.

"mph— i need you.." you mewl out into the emptiness of the room.

meanwhile sasaki's face heats up red between your thighs. although eating you out was admittedly hot as fuck and had him pitching a slight tent in his grey trousers, it didn't fluster him because he viewed it as a process towards your punishment, opposed to an activity to feed his own lust.

that was, until he heard you call for him in that way — so lecherous and dirty. it had all the blood in his body either rushing to his cheeks or dick. that was when he realised he might be doing this to serve his own sexual fantasies instead of preventing villainy and helping you see the beauty in joy.

but it's something he has commit to. so what ever the overarching reason may be, he can deconstruct it later. for now, he has to see through what he started.

'see through' in the board sense. that didn't apply when he was tongue-deep in your cunt, devouring your insides like a starved, depraved man until your whole body was shaking and you were on the very edge of a climax. which is when he decided to pull out.

your eyes shoot open at the missing warmth against your pussy, and you inhale sharply. deeply uncomfortable with how the sweet bubbling release within your core was swept away in an instant and you were left with a longing ache between your legs. to be fair, he did give you a warning so you can't say this was unexpected, but certainly dissatisfying.

"sir, c'mon.." you plead, pretty cheeks glistening with tears, "wanna cum for you."

"you will, my dear. trust me." he slowly gets up from the floor, cleaning his sticky cheeks and lips with the cloth again. "it pains me to do this but i hope you are learning a very valuble lesson about grief. it's not nice, is it?"

"no.." you mutter, gaze cast to the ground in shame.

but your swiftly met with a harsh sting on your thigh by the wrath of his metal rod, "look at me."

reluctantly, you lift your head up so your watery eyes meet his, and he stares down upon you with scorn. he asserts, "say that again."

"no."

"full sentence."

"no, it's not a nice feeling." you mumble to stop your voice from trembling. your eyes are locked to his, so you pick up on the very subtle change in his expression — he's contented with your response.

"excellent. i think you deserve to finish now." he turns his back to you and walks over to the table. from how far away you are, you can't properly see what is laid out on the surface besides the tapes and samples, but you can tell there are many things.

once he's collected everything he needs, he comes back over with a few items in his big hands. first, there is vibrator in the shape of a c, which he stuffs into your cunt and allows the tail to hang out, positioning it so it brushes perfectly against your swollen clit. you moan quietly the whole time while he is toying around, fixing it inside you. and though he acts unbothered, really you are feeding his lewd desires and worsening his throbbing erection.

then he has a metal plug which he coats in generously in lube, then slips his arm behind you and shoves it into your ass. when he does so, you yelp and jerk against your restraints at the harsh insertion. but your pussy only gets wetter at how full and conjested you are.

"we will get started when i come back." he states, heading towards the door on the other side of the room.

your mind is already a bit foggy , so he is a few paces away by the time you figure out what he's doing, but then you promptly call out, in a slurred salacious voice, "huh, where're you going?"

"to make myself a cup of coffee. i'll be right back."

"what?! don't leave me here al—" before you could even finish your thought, the door slams shut behind him and he is gone. you can only trust that he'll be back soon to please you.

you let out a deep sigh; the first in what felt like ages. but the relief didn't last long as the wind was almost immediately knocked out of you again at the toy stuffed into your pussy beginning to vibrate. and not lightly either, it was essentially thrashing around inside you and destroying your clit.

you assume this would only last a couple seconds and sir nighteye was only doing this to tease you but no. it went on for ages, the piece of plastic ravaging your walls and poor clit for minutes on end. to the point you were shaking and twisting in your restraints, trying to deal with the copious amount of pleasure surging through you.

you screamed and shouted but you don't think anyone heard you. or maybe he did and he just gets off on this shit. either way you couldn't keep it all inside; it was unbelievably good yet it was just so fucking much. to the point you were gasping for air.

with a vibrator on full shoved into your pussy and abusing your clit, and a buttplug that would send jolts of hot ecstasy rushing through you whenever you'd arch your back against the wall behind you, it wasn't long at all until your first orgasm.

then your second and third rolled out directly afterwards. your thighs being covered with more and more slick each time.

by the time sir nighteye came back with his coffee, you were probably on your fourth or fifth — you lost count — and your sore body was laying limp against the cuffs that held you upright, with your head hanging low as your neck no longer had the strength to carry it.

"look at this." he takes a sip of his drink, while sitting down in the chair adjacent to the table, "you're a mess."

"st— stop, sir. ngh, t' much." you somehow find the strength to coak out, despite the heavy vibrations battering your poor cunt.

"i will stop after you squirt." he declares, completely unwavered by your dishevelled state. he folds his legs and stares at you while holding his cup, waiting patiently.

"sir!" you squeal, body consulving in sheer pleasure, and you grit your teeth together to stop yourself from letting out and ungodly shriek and you feel another seering climax build in your core, blistering your insides. it was so horny and good at first but now it was growing overwhelming, "please, please, please!"

"fine." sir nighteye sighs in defeat.

with that, the contraption you were held to suddenly deactivates and the cuffs around your wrists and ankles retract. therefore, without the support of the metal, you immediately fall to the ground and land on your hands and knees. and the force from hitting the ground sends the toy straight out of your hole, aided by your cumulative wetness.

the plug in you ass stays put, not that you were awfully worried about that one anymore now that the main source of the stimulation was gone, leaving you with great relief. you take a moment to catch your breath.

"come here, my dear. sit with me."

your legs are still trembling so naturally when you try to stand up, you immediately fall back down. in fact that's when you realise your whole body feels like jelly, even your arms are so weak they can barely keep you from face-planting into the ground — your previous orgasms have truly wracked your whole nervous system.

despite clearly seeing you being a fumbling mess and struggling to even stand or kneel, sir nighteye just watches silently, not offering you a hand even when you look to him with a glossy gaze.

after a couple mintues of clumsily stumbling around, you are able to half-walk / half-crawl over to where he is sat, but you fall over again just as you reach him, leaving you kneeled on the ground with your forehead pressed against his leg.

that's when he finally extends a hand you, and slips his arms under yours and pulls you up onto his lap, so you are stradling his legs and facing him. you flop against his chest, his toned abs comforting your cheek from through his white shirt.

"you've learned your lesson now, haven't you?" he hums, your head wrapped up in his arms as he idly strokes your hair.

"mhm.." you say into his chest.

"you won't commit any other crimes?"

you don't respond. at first you didn't have any issue with lying to him but now that he's cradling you in his arms like a precious doll, you feel the need to be more transparent with him.

he takes your lack of response as an answer, "understood. i punished you for the crime you did, even so i have yet to give you any incentive to remain righteous."

as he explains himself, his hands work to unbuckle his belt, so he can pull his cock free. your eyes are glued to his monstrous length as it bounces out, slapping against your thigh. he hooks his arms under your ass and lifts you up while he aligns himself with your sopping hole.

regardless of your recent encounter with the vibrator, you were still eager to be filled up with his cock, and for him to fuck your wanton hole until your legs don't work again. "c'mon.." you whine, burying yourself into his neck while he held you over his cock. cuddling into him was similar to nuzzling a statue but it still brought you some semblence of comfort.

especially as his hold on you finally released and you were left to sink down on his massive length, your slick entrance inviting him inside you, and facilitating your hole to gobble him up, all the way to the base despite how you wriggled and writhed.

his teeth grit together. he wanted to blurt all sorts of profanities about how fucking tight you are and how you are an angel that takes him so well, but he choked it back. replaced by faint grunts and sighs.

his vicious stare didn't part from your body for even a second. he was utterly mesmerised by the way your cunt swallowed him whole. and upon noticing your twitching thighs, he was reminded that you weren't going to be able to ride him, so he utilised his hand on your ass to force you up and down on his length, at a pace he was in control of.

he basically used your body is a fucktoy for his own climax, groping your ass how he liked, using your sore hole as his own, and toying with your plug whenever it appealed it him — tugging and twisting it, he loved making you squirm.

it wasn't long before another sizzling pool of pleasure was accumulating in your stomach, but this time it felt different. not only hotter but deeper too. his cock had that effect on you; the way it slammed into your cervix over and over again ignited something carnal within you.

"sir, m' gu— gnh—" the sounds falling from your bruised lips were hardly words anymore and just syllables. you couldn't form a coherent sentence with how his cock was ploughing into you. " 'm gunna cum!"

"go on. go on." sasaki spoke it like a mantra through bared teeth, eyes screwed shut as he revels in your tight pussy clenching down on him.

as the fluid coil in your core finally snapped, you found yourself gushing around his cock, drenching his grey trousers in the process. though you were too consumed by the sensation to care; your back was arched into him and a scream-like moan departed from your throat.

"(y/n)." he rasps at how your walls spasm around his length, and it tips him right over the edge into his orgasm. as he releases his hot seed into you, he lands harsh slaps to your ass repeatedly, punctuating each with a "fuck" under his breath. he kept smacking it until there was a searing red handprint left on your skin.

not that you minded. it was actually quite sexy hearing such a strict man lose all control for you — submitting himself to your pussy.

his cum spreads all throughout your insides, coating your walls a sticky white. with your orgasms coinciding, your convulsing pussy fucks him through his high until you've milked him dry of every last drop.

that's when he relaxes in his chair, taking shallow breaths in sync with yours, with your face buried into the crook of his neck. your body melts lazily into his, and one of his hands slowly move from your ass to trace your spine. his cock is still fit snug inside you but you like it that way, and so did he.

"now, for every week you go without committing any crimes, i will take you in a new position. how does that sound, my dear?" he asks through huffs.

"i won't do anything bad ever again." you reply without an ounce of hesitancy.

sir nighteye chuckles lowly, and caresses your lower back, "perfect."

#bnha smut #sir nighteye #mirai sasaki #sasaki mirai #mha smut #my hero academia #my hero acedamia #boku no hero academia #sasaki x reader #mirai sasaki x reader #sir nighteye smut

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podcastenthusiast · 6 months ago

Text

Dead Boy Detectives Fic Rec List

Mostly payneland <3 I will update as I find more fics.

“I don’t like this, mate,” Charles muttered.

The Things We Can, and Cannot, Do by MDJensen

Paul Rowland is dead. It's not just that, though.

Oh, Lonely Bones, Have You Forgotten? by DontOffendTheBees

“No,” Edwin agreed, gravely. “Nor do I.”

Frankly, taking this case was probably an unwise decision. The meagre payment offered by the sickly-looking ghost of the old groundskeeper would fall far, far short of the emotional cost of the expedition. And yet when Edwin had looked over to Charles and met his eyes, there had been no doubt, no hesitation. Perhaps it was the notion of unfinished business; that mysterious force that compelled ghosts to sites of personal trauma as sirens compelled sailors to the unforgiving rocks. Perhaps they were both mere gluttons for punishment.

Either way, they were here now. It was with heavy hearts and wary eyes that on the evening of June twenty-sixth, Edwin and Charles – along with Crystal – set foot once more on the grounds of St. Hilarion's School for Boys. In which a very, very old case is re-opened.

Mom Says It's My Turn to Jump on the Grenade by RoseGanymede95

Charles tried to pay attention, because Edwin was really upset, and Charles still didn’t understand why, and it seemed like this might be important. It was just, they’d been at this for a while, and Edwin kept asking him the same questions and not leaving him time to answer, so. His mind may have wandered a bit to how he would reinforce the next cricket bat. His attention snapped back to the present when Edwin said, “This can’t happen. You can’t risk this, I can’t be the reason you risk it. You have to move on.” “Move on?” Charles repeated blankly. “Move on from what?” “From here, Charles!” Edwin shouted, suddenly furious again, suddenly shouting even though his eyes were filled with tears. “You have to go with Death! You have to leave!” “I don’t want to go with Her,” Charles said, nonplussed. “Fine, that’s your business, but you can’t keep hanging around me!” Edwin snapped. Charles’ world suddenly tilted on its axis, sending everything askew. “I can’t?” he asked, his voice small, his heart wide open and exposed.

Let me bleed instead of you by mellxncollie

The question rang like a cracked bell in what had only just become someplace Edwin had started to contemplate calling home. “What was Hell like?” - Charles and Edwin keep secrets from one another. The list isn't long, but it's not empty. Eventually, they start tumbling out in soft whispers, in tear-reddened eyes, in shocked expressions, in choked up phrases.

Or, 40 years and 8 secrets.

Indelible by Arisprite

Charles is feeling a lot and also not much at all in the immediate aftermath of returning from Hell. He also can tell Edwin is wearing thin from holding himself together. Who wouldn't be, after that? It's okay, though. Charles can take care of him, and he always always will.

Done Running by Asidian

Charles has gone a peculiar off color, all the blood blanched from his cheeks. He glances to the arm, and then back up to Edwin's face. "Any break's a bad break, innit?"

"Some have more drawbacks than others," says Edwin, detached and scholarly. "For instance, unless the nerves are compromised, it is possible to make use of the injured arm in cases of extreme –"

"Bloody hell," breathes Charles.

Joi de Vivre by olympus_mons

Edwin Payne crawls out of Hell twice. Somehow, his problems begin in the aftermath.

so many ways to give in by piilu

“I think there’s something really wrong with me, mate,” Charles sobs, the remains of the bat falling from his hand. ---- Charles struggles with his anger issues. Again.

A Room of One's Own by DarkStars (Worlds_Okayest_Goalie)

Crystal is so tired of watching Charles and Edwin stare longingly at each other. OR 5 times Crystal tells Charles and Edwin to get a room and 1 time they do.

Shape Me by dearheartdont

At least twice a year Charles and his mum packed their cases and caught a train to Birmingham, leaving his dad behind with a freezer full of carefully labelled Tupperware.

Charles Rowland and his relationship with his extended family and heritage.

(Part of a series of snapshots of Charles’ life in the 1980s.)

half of my soul, as the poets say by thegirlofthorns

Edwin existed, just as Charles had. Charles, who occupied a space in loving memory. A much-deserved space – Edwin would have wanted it no other way – but the core of him wanted to scream that he had been here, too. He never would be again, but he had lived, and he had breathed and laughed and moved with too much frippery and frill to continue on breathing, and he had been a whole person, once. And it had not mattered. So looked at CHARLES ROWLAND through tears, allowed himself to. Even Charles's hammer on metal on stone was not enough to dull the pain, but it was enough to remind him that he was still here, even if he was no longer living. It was an awful sound, a jarring sound, and tears shone in Charles’s eyes as he focused intently on carving out the A in his surname, but it was something. They were there, together, and they were feeling.

- Or, Charles finds Edwin's unmarked grave and will, in the lightest of terms, not be having it.

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, and Very Bad by hibye

It was about the torture. The torture he was experiencing presently, and also every minute of every hour of every day, standing alongside Edwin Payne and saying nothing out of the ordinary at all.

O Spirit From The Great Beyond! by InTwainFiction

Edwin is ignoring Charles.

They haven't spoken in almost twelve hours, and all because of a little incident involving some puppies. Yes, said incident may have been Charles' fault, but he has apologised a million times.

Charles is getting desperate to find a way to get Edwin to talk to him again, and a little walk away from the office provides just the thing Charles needs.

He hopes it will get Edwin to talk to him, but at the very least it will be a laugh.

a beautiful day to say goodbye by ofstitches

“The house is… sad,” the client responds.

“Again, we can’t help with selling the house. Maybe try some decorations. That’ll brighten the old place up,” Charles suggests.

“No, you misunderstand. The house doesn’t look sad. The house is sad. It is depressed.”

“How do you figure?” Edwin says, sitting up in his chair now that the client has said something potentially interesting.

or A new case brings up old feelings, and maybe something more.

A Heaven Like They Talk About by LikeMmCookies

After managing to piss off yet another witch, Edwin and Charles are cursed as punishment. Bewildered, powerless, and lacking answers, they face their greatest challenge yet: being human again.

With Edwin doing novel things like picking out shampoo and wearing different pants, Charles finds his body reacting in strange ways to his best friend. He questions if these are new feelings, or if they'd been there all along.

But the biggest question remains - do they stay alive or do they find a way to go back?

being unknown by The_IPRE

Edwin does know Charles, or at least he likes to think that he does. He knows that Charles is far better with the clients than he is, quick to offer a smile or extend sympathy while Edwin is far more interested in delving deeper into the details of the case. He knows that Charles has a wicked swing with his cricket bat, but prefers to leave that as a second resort when he believes there's a way for them to come to a compromise. He knows that Charles chooses to hope for the best from people, even after having seen the worst they have to offer–and in fact, having been killed by it.

As Charles sits in front of him, the strain in his shoulders at odds with the easy grin on his face, Edwin wonders how much of his friend he is failing to see. -- 5 times Edwin didn't press the issue, and one time he did.

The Kind of Light That Means Just Love (When My Baby Smiles at Me) by DontOffendTheBees

“Charles,” Edwin admonished, gently closing his book with a finger tucked between the pages to hold his place. “I have asked you to stop fooling around with that contraption and get some work done.”

“I have been!” Charles defended, gesturing broadly at the higgledy-piggledy array of items around him. Evidently, taking stock of the contents of his bag of tricks was an expansive task. “Taking a break.” He snatched the small square of paper from the Polaroid camera and began to shake it with abandon. In which Charles partakes in some amateur ghost photography, and Edwin (fondly) bemoans the futility of the exercise.

The Good Left Undone by plutosheaven

Help comes from unlikely places when Edwin is once again faced with a threat worse than death.

the phantoms here will never have their fill by ahyperactivehero (ahyperactiverhero)

Poltergeists are created when a ghost experiences extreme emotional distress. Poltergeists are notoriously hard to reign in, and they almost never gently move on. Neither Edwin nor Charles ever imagined it would happen to them.

Basically, five times where the Dead Boy Detective Agency dealt with the threat of a poltergeist.

XXX

“Once you choose to go down the poltergeist route there is no coming back,” Edwin said. “And I will have no choice but to follow you.”

“You can’t do that mate,” Charles said. His voice had cleared up some, his form less wavy.

“Then do not go where I cannot follow,” Edwin said.

Form 239, Schedule L by sanctuary_for_all

At the top of a small pile of papers was a copy of Form 239, Schedule L, filled out with achingly familiar handwriting. At the top, the word "Approved" was stamped in large red letters.

This Darkness, Enduring by kickingtheladder

“Your son is gone,” they tell her. “It was… an Act of God.”

She cannot think of a single thing to say for a very long moment. And then she has many things to say, most of which are not at all appropriate for polite company. --- Edwin Payne's mother, before and after.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by kickingtheladder

“Your son is gone," they tell her. "He ran away." She doesn't say anything. --- Charles Rowland's mother, afterwards.

dreaming of the things you said / hoping that it's meant by ohmyfuckinggod420

Edwin turns away with a deep breath, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach. His non-existent, ghostly stomach. It seems so ridiculously cruel and on theme for his current situation. Not only is he in love with his best friend, and not only does his best friend not love him back, but he’s feeling things that he shouldn’t be feeling on top of things that he physically should not be able to feel. or

The gang is back in London. Niko is gone, Crystal is on the cusp of a breakdown, Charles is still a flirt, and Edwin is... trying his best.

Oh, and he keeps feeling his pulse. As a ghost. A very dead ghost.

The trouble really never ends.

the ghost of the past that you live in by ObsessedWithFandom

It didn’t start as much. As anything, really. Charles noticed him in the hallways only because he was new, which was rare in Year 11, and because he smiled shyly whenever Charles said hi. Aysar, he’d introduced himself, and Charles liked the way the syllables formed in his mouth. He wanted to be Aysar’s friend.

Or: five boys Charles didn't date, and one he did.

Aftermath by sophisticatedyet

“What are you humming?”

Charles’ polo muffled his question, and the pause before Charles answered was so long that Edwin wondered if he hadn’t heard him at all. But then he said, "A lullaby.”

The answer made Edwin smile bemusedly. “Why? I can't fall asleep.”

“Yeah, duh, I know. It's just meant to soothing.”

“Oh.” Edwin rested his head back against Charles’ chest. “I suppose I do feel quite soothed.”

Dance the Night by Gruoch

“What is that?” Crystal asks, looking Edwin up and down with an expression of abject befuddlement that borders on disgust.

“It is my disguise,” Edwin replies a little stiffly in response to her tone. “You told me to wear a disguise.”

“You look like Margaret Thatcher,” Crystal says flatly. “You’re going undercover at a nightclub, not a library. This—“ she plucks at Edwin’s long tweed skirt, her lip curling— “is not appropriate nightclub attire. You’re gonna attract too much attention.”

“I thought attracting attention was the point of this ludicrous exercise,” Edwin snaps back.

“Yes, the right kind of attention,” Crystal stresses. “This—” she waves a hand broadly at him—“will get the wrong kind of attention.”

In which the gang returns home to discover something sinister stalking London’s party scene after dark, Edwin lets his hair down, Charles’ confidence is shaken, and Crystal pursues a new lease on life (and hopefully doesn’t die in the process).

Everywhere, Everything (wanna love you) by WildCookieKeef

Freedom, as it seems, is suffocating. Decades spent running away from death herself and yet now more than ever does Edwin feel restless. Hell is behind him for the second time. He might’ve escaped his fate of eternal torture, but rabidly approaching are revelations he would’ve kept buried for far longer.

He’d never be so flustered and disorganized if it hadn’t been for Crystal or the Cat King or Monty or the Night Nurse or that horrible witch Esther or Simon, god not Simon, or practically reenacting old Greek tales with his best mate or. . .

No. It’s no one’s fault but his own. If he could sleep he’s sure he’d have nightmares.

Of what? There’s lots to choose from, but he can just feel it. Maybe some spirit malady has taken root in his body. He can sense the tension under his skin. Aches of pain that he knows aren’t physical.

He never should’ve told Charles. What was he thinking?

or After the end of S1, Edwin reasons that Charles rejected his confession and fears the worst while trying to suffer silently. Charles is very bad at letting Edwin suffer in peace.

the eight layers of hell, reversed by Zairielon

There's a lot that Edwin and Charles don't talk about. Frankly, after 30 years together, you don't have to say much for the other person to get the point. But Port Townsend and Crystal and Niko knocked their dynamic off-kilter, and by the time they return to London and finally get back to "normal," "normal" has changed. "Normal" is now Crystal's bright laughter, Niko's earnest affection, and Edwin's faint smiles. "Normal" is an unnameable ball of emotions tangled up in Charles' chest. "Normal" is Edwin looking at him, and Charles hearing those words all over again.

Charles, I'm in love with you.

OR, Charles figures out what it means that Edwin is the only person in the world he'd run into Hell for.

When We Walk Together We Tend To Walk Alone by UneducatedAuthor

She’s never unexpected, but she’s always a surprise. And when Charles meets her, it's nothing like the nightmare he's built up in his own head, being split away from Edwin and cursed to an afterlife without him. She's kind and gentle and familiar, and she gives him a chance to say goodbye to his mother.

Or, the one where Charles meets Death. They have a lot to talk about. But it's okay. They have time.

it's you that i hold on to by lrvzender

A pair of lips press shakily on his temple. Charles Rowland’s blood definitely runs hot, Edwin decides, definitely.

“You’re not asking anything, mate. But you have to understand that you are worth saving, a thousand times over. You are worth knowing, Edwin.”

Something bigger than the whole, wide sky. Something bigger than death, perhaps.

(where Edwin does not ask to be known, but Charles knows anyway)

and your song, it haunts me like hunger does the crow by kay_cricketed

After they return to London, Charles notices an escalation in people approaching Edwin with their attentions. Which is fine! It's not that Charles is jealous. He wants Edwin to be happy and to have a chance at a fulfilling relationship, yeah? The problem is, Charles is aware that Edwin is unpracticed with these kinds of emotions and other people, and it would be very easy for someone to take advantage. And that’s not going to happen, not on Charles’ watch.

To make matters worse, the admirers are getting a little too intense. And Charles is starting to suspect there's more at work than everyone realizing his best mate is brills.

(Or: In which the damage to Edwin's soul across years of torture has had an unusual effect, and Charles needs to fix it before he's compelled to violence. Again.)

trína chéile, le chéile, claochlaithe / entangled, together, transformed by theroyalsavage

Edwin Payne and Charles Roland are not Orpheus and Eurydice. They are not tragic figures of myth, children of gods and spirits, immortalized in verse by the poets of old. They’re nothing special at all – just two boys too stubborn to move on. With that said, however… Edwin must admit that there are certain similarities.

Came up from that lake of fire by ghostinthelibrary

"Are you a zombie?” Niko peers into Edwin’s eyes. “Because the Night Nurse told me zombies exist. Do you hunger for brains, Edwin?”

“Hardly.” Remembering being splattered with gray matter in the not-so-distant past, Edwin shudders. He cannot imagine consuming it. “I’m not a zombie.”

“What about a vampire?” She almost looks excited by the prospect. “We’re only a couple of hours from Forks. It would be perfect!”” When they’re caught during their escape from Hell, Charles and Edwin have no choice but to make a deal: they have one hundred days to find and entrap a powerful, malevolent spirit, or both of their souls are forfeit. But when they’re both temporarily restored to living bodies to aid in their search, being alive brings with it a host of new feelings, which neither of them know how to cope with, especially as their deadline looms closer and their quarry proves increasingly dangerous.

Unbreakable by Asexual_Enjolras

Edwin feels as though he owes Charles an apology because he cannot offer support to his best friend in the same way that Crystal can. And Charles tells him exactly where to stick that apology the moment he does.

Or, Edwin feels like he is broken and Charles does not agree.

after the insects have laid their claim by lolotr

“Where are you buried, do you’ve any idea?”

��My body was never found,” he replies softly. “There is a memorial marker next to my parents’ graves, but my remains are not there.”

The idea is so horrifying that it stuns Charles into silence for a couple seconds. “I didn’t know that. Why didn’t I know that?”

Edwin’s shoulders tense. “The whole thing is bloody tragic enough as it is.”

Grabbing his wrist, Charles begins marching them back in the direction of the pond they used to get here. Edwin doesn’t resist, but he does argue, because of course he does. “Charles, where are we going?”

“St. Hilarion’s. We’ve got a new case, don’t we?”

Hold This by RoseGanymede95

“Alright, listen,” Charles said, after trying not to think at all for at least five minutes. “Hear me out.”

“Any ideas?” Edwin asked, not looking up from his page.

“It’s just. What would actually happen if you cut my hand off?”

Edwin jerked his head up so fast, Charles wondered that he didn’t brain himself against the stone wall. He looked more offended than he had when he found out about the live snake in Charles’ bag.

“What the hell kind of a question is that?” He hissed.

“I’m not saying we should do it!” Charles backpedaled. “I’m just curious! These cuffs make us proper solid, don’t they? We could probably lop it off and get me out.”

“No,” said Edwin emphatically. “We are not discussing this. I don’t want you getting any ideas and chewing your own arm off like a trapped weasel.”

“Not my whole arm, just my hand.”

the start of something beautiful (the spoiler-free remix) by KiaraSayre

Four cases from the Dead Boy Detectives casebook, featuring amnesia, corporeality, a time loop, and a chill hang sesh.

If I'm Batman, You're Robin by ahyperactivehero

Charles misses a lot of things from life. One of those is the movies. Edwin volunteers to go with him.

XXX

“Batman Returns?” Edwin asked, reading the title. “What sort of creature is a Batman?”

Charles couldn’t help the bark of a laugh he let out. “No, he’s not a creature, mate. He’s a superhero.” At the totally blank look on Edwin’s face he tried again. “He’s like a detective. But he fights crime with his fists, too.”

“Ah,” Edwin said with a knowing look. “One of your heroes, I see.”

offer me that deathless death by websters_lieb

It takes the better part of two days for Charles’s body to even be found, and in the end, Edwin is forced to turn on all the lights in the gymnasium attic where Charles had died in order to get a janitor to come upstairs. No one had even been looking for him, yet. - or Edwin and Charles attend a funeral, look for a gravestone, and decide to become detectives.

Edwin's Payne tolerance by RabidWatermelon

Charles knew Edwin had a high pain tolerance. How could he not, having endured the tortures of hell? He just didn’t expect it to be so… useful.

AKA I want to write drabbles about Edwin's pain tolerance because I think it's something that would come up over thirty years together and be mildly concerning to someone who went through abuse in life. No fixed plot or posting schedule. Will update tags as chapter come out w new content.

The Case of Edwin's Missing Notebook by thewalkingstone

Edwin forgot his notebook at the office.

Not a problem. He prided himself on having an excellent memory. He certainly liked to jot down notes as he worked, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t work without it. He would just have to remember things until they returned to the office.

It was fine. He was a professional, and professionals did not delay an investigation because they forgot their notebook. OR Just months after escaping Hell, Edwin accidentally forgets his notebook on a case. He does not handle it well. Luckily, his new best mate is there to help him out.

The Scenic Route by DontOffendTheBees

"Cheer up, Edwin," said Charles, brightly. "Might never happen."

Edwin gave Charles a look so haughty it had its own title. "It very much has happened, Charles." He sniffed and straightened out his newspaper with attitude, the rustle of it loud and sharp as a whip crack. "I don't see why we couldn't have simply hopped through the mirror and met Crystal there."

"At this point, Edwin, I'm in total fucking agreement," said Crystal, not opening her eyes. She was burrowed under her coat like a blanket, doing her best to make the uncomfortable upright seat look like a cosy bed. Fortunately this train car was basically empty, so she had space to stretch across two seats – and no one close by to comment on the floating newspaper across the table and the fact she was having a barney with it. "You're like, the worst person to travel with." In which the agency takes the scenic route to their next case; and Edwin finally receives some answers he's been waiting for.

what some circumstance stole by Chrome

For a magic-user intent on siphoning pain for power, both Hob Gadling and Edwin Payne represent unique opportunities. United in dire circumstances, a man incapable of dying and a boy long dead forge an unusual friendship--and try to survive the experience. --- “When you died,” Hob said. “How old were you?” “Sixteen.” “That,” Hob said, “Is awful.” Edwin shrugged. “Life is, I’m afraid,” he said. “Can be wonderful, too,” Hob said. “I promise.”

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #dbda #edwin payne #charles rowland #payneland #crystal palace #dbda fanfic #cj's fic recs

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 months ago

Note

Hello, I'm not sure if you've explained it or not but going in the depths of Malleus and Leona's character relationship? Like explaining their interactions and how they actually think of one another

Many fan works tend to depict Leona and Malleus as extremely antagonistic toward one another. However, the truth is that their relationship is more like a one sided dislike or annoyance (on Leona’s part). It’s not uncommon for them to bicker or have some tension in their conversations even when they have the same goal in mind such as protecting a harp (Beans Day) or wooing a ghost (although Malleus is not participating for the latter, Leona still insists the ghost would prefer him to Malleus to get that dig in). They’re definitely still on bad terms), but Malleus is generally pretty neutral with Leona unless he is provoked.

Leona’s beef with Malleus is story relevant and makes itself known in book 2. He appears to primarily dislike Malleus because it is thanks to his sheer power that Diasomnia crushes Savanaclaw every inter-dorm tournament, essentially dashing Savanaclaw students’ hopes of being scouted and going pro. Buuut it seems like from the way Leona speaks about his rival, he has long since held these feelings and they aren’t linked to a single inciting incident.

Part of why Leona dislikes Malleus in general seems to be Malleus’s attitude. Leona describes his fellow prince as “pretentious”, “high and mighty”, and acting in ways that show disrespect to him (like in Malleus’s Dorm Uniform vignettes, when he casted a spell meant for objects on Leona). He may also take issue with Malleus’s “incomprehensible fae humor”, which Leona references both during Halloween and in Malleus’s Ceremonial Robes. Additionally, Leona outright states that he hates people who refuse to listen (Silver) and just march to the beat of their own drum (Rook), which are traits you can argue also fits Malleus (since Malleus didn’t really listen to the upset dorm leaders in his Dorm Uniform vignettes). Leona appears to prefer dealing with Malleus to Silver though, as he says that Malleus’s ears aren’t just “for show”. Interestingly, Leona might dislike Malleus less than Rook; Leona is wary of so much as wishing Rook a happy birthday and refuses to dine next to Rook… yet Leona does sit next to Malleus at the end of Terror is Trending.

Leona is one of the few students who isn’t afraid of Malleus and has the gall to openly insult him (or is rude) on more than one occasion. He doesn’t really show any remorse or intent to apologize. In fact, Leona understands very well what bothers Malleus and often acts on those points of weakness to goad him, whereas it is very rare for Malleus to start the fights. For example, Leona tells Malleus in Malleus’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes, “You thinkin’ you’re gonna get it next time? Well, sorry to break it to you, but no one’s ever gonna invite you,” and, “You’re never gonna have a chance to wear those robes, so put’em away for good already.” This, of course, angers Malleus and leads into the two insulting one another’s physical features and exchanging threats (removing horns, declawing, calling each other animals or implying a lack of humanity, etc.). They similarly insult one another in Terror is Trending (again, Leona instigates: “Hmph, look at Mr. High-Horse over here. Were you flattered to be asked [to have your picture taken]?”) and again in Fairy Gala (Leona again: “Ever consider gettin’ off your tail and cleanin’ up your fellow fae’s mess?”). I’m sure there are tons of other instances you could come up with; these are just the immediate ones that come to my mind. Leona is also resentful about the idea of ever asking for Malleus’s help. He’d rather ask anyone else, even Malleus’s second in command, than ask the guy himself. Funnily enough, Lilia and Silver see these heated conversations as proof of Malleus and Leona’s friendship. I feel like this could also, in part, feed into Leona’s dislike of Malleus, as people having the wrong idea about your relationship can be irritating.

Now, Malleus does appear to care about maintaining amicable relations with representatives of other countries. Often it is he who instructs Sebek to apologize to Leona for being rude—two major instances of this occur in Malleus’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes and during Vargas Camp. He even personally (and happily) welcomes Leona to Diasomnia in his Ceremonial Robes vignettes, viewing Leona as no different than any other guest.

This goes into the realm of speculation (so please bear with me!!) but it could be said that Malleus has a very… unique view of friendship? So Lilia and Silver may not be too far off when they say that Leona and Malleus are chums in their own weird way. In Glorious Masquerade, Rollo poses a real threat to Malleus and to his people—yet when Malleus experiences genuine fear for the first time, he seems more excited at the novel feeling rather than cower as a result of it. Following the climax, Malleus still presents the song he had prepared as a gift of good will for NBC. He also proceeds to play with Rollo’s guilt to get him to agree to sharing a dance. And THEN Malleus says he looks forward to being invited again????? These are all quite friendly gestures for someone who put you and all your people in danger, my guy… 😂 So perhaps Malleus just gas a very different way of approaching friendships? Hard to say, but that’s some food for thought!

Leona and Malleus have had moments of amicability, so it’s totally possible for them to get along. This happens primarily in Leona’s Union Jacket vignettes; in them, Malleus gifts the birthday boy an antique book in an ancient language (Leona’s best subject). The two then talk about enjoying the freedom of walking around town without an attendant or some servants trailing after them. Being of a similar social status, they are able to understand one another to some extent.

This is going into another point of speculation, but I wonder if Leona and Malleus recognize their similarities beyond this interview. I certainly have; they’re both arrogant princes that deeply desire what the other prince has, and I feel that their animosity, in part, comes from this realization (whether conscious or unconscious). I certainly get the sense that some of Leona’s hatred of Malleus comes from seeing his own desires manifested in him—of being that coveted prince praised for his power, his people lavishing him with affirmations, a crown… All the things Leona doesn’t have.

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apollophanes · 1 year ago

Text

Spiritual Pollution in Hellenic Polytheism

In Helpol, we have three concepts known as lyma, miasma, and agos.

To some, humans are seen as naturally pure beings, but because we are living mortal creatures, spiritual dirt can cling to us and make us impure.

Here, I will discuss these three types of pollution

(Disclaimer: Some of this information comes from my own personal interpretations, and therefore may not apply to the beliefs of everyone)

Lyma

Lyma means "something to be washed away". Itis generally just physical dirt. It isn't much of a big deal when it comes to spiritual matters. However, it is still best to be free of it when approaching the gods.

Miasma

This is where things get complicated.

Miasma is essentially general spiritual pollution. Miasma is something that is completely unavoidable and should not be shamed (well, depending on the cause). Miasma is mainly caused by things related to life and death. This includes sex, childbirth, visiting a cemetery, blood, sexual fluids, etc.

However, miasma has different degrees of severity. More severe miasma comes from acts such as rape, hubris, murder, etc.

Miasma also spreads from people to people. If you walk past someone on the street who just came back from a funeral, their miasma will cling to you as well. This also highlights how unavoidable miasma is. But usually, this kind of indirect miasma is not as bad.

We are not allowed to approach the gods in a state of miasma. Luckily, miasma is not difficult to get rid off (excluding the more severe cases listed above).

All you need to do is wash your hands.

If you get a cut on your leg, the blood is miasmic and therefore you can't approach the gods. But all you need to do is wait for the bleeding to stop, wash away the blood, wash your hands, and then you're good to go.

There is a debate I once had on whether miasma prevents us from praying, giving offerings, and participating in festivals. To me, the answer is yes, but not with prayers. Let me explain why.

In a very simplified description of a certain myth, Orestes killed his mother. This caused him to enter a state of severe miasma and a state of agos (which I will explain later). Long story short, he prayed and asked Apollon to help purify him, in return for a grand offering later on. Apollon heard the prayer and came to help purify Orestes.

In this example, we see that Orestes was still able to pray to Apollon in the worst state of miasma, but promised to give offerings later on.

This implies that prayer is not an issue with miasma.

Here is another example: You don't need to wash your hands when talking to someone, but you should wash your hands if you want to give that person food.

In a similar way, in my opinion, you don't need to wash your hands for a casual prayer, but you should wash them before giving an offering. Although, I also prefer not to pray when I know I am in a miasmic state.

However, this is my own interpretation and others may have different views.

There are other ways to cleanse miasma such as khernips, incense, and scapegoats.

Ocean water is also said to cleanse miasma extremely well.

Agos

Agos is a cursed state and is the most extreme form of spiritual pollution. However, agos is not easy to get.

If you commit a horrible act such as murder, you will be in a state of extreme miasma. However, when the gods notice your crime and get enraged (keep in mind that it is usually not that easy to anger the gods), the miasma evolves into agos.

Miasma is a naturally occurring thing, but agos only comes from the wrath of the gods.

Agos is difficult to remove and is a pretty big deal.

Luckily, you don't need to worry about agos unless you're a horrible person who commits heinous acts.

Aaaand that is my interpretation of spiritual pollution in Helpol. I hope this post can be helpful to you!

Blessed be!

#hellenic polytheism #hellenic polytheist #hellenic paganism #hellenic pagan #theoi #helpol #paganism #pagan #polytheism #polytheist #helpolblr #hellenism #hellenismos #hellenist #ancient greek religion #lyma #miasma #agos

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deathmetalangel · 6 months ago

Text

HARDLY SEEMS FAIR

robby keene x fem! reader

warnings: "casual" relationship", swearing, arguments, crying, heavily ldr coded, implied hookups, slut shaming, cheating, angsty

“in what world is that fair robby?"

oke so this is kinda a retconnned chapter from my wattpad book that i'm just extending and making more ambigious instead of clearly x oc. i hope y'all like it tho. i am sorry i have been gone for so long :(

Y/n plays with the ends of Robby's hair. He was laying with his head in her lap while they just relaxed in her room. It was calm, domestic. A small and very rare moment for just the two of them. No outside force would intrude and break their safe haven. There was no what if's that lingered in the air. Nor past resentments that hung over them like an ominous cloud determined to damper their moods.

It was just Y/n and Robby. And that's all they'll ever be. No labels. She figured that much after the last time she'd brought it up. But she's become so full of him she can't even bring herself to care. She'd rather have what they have now, whatever it may be with him. Rather than risking losing him, and the routine she's started to build around him.

She hums softly. Her mind far off. "Y/n?" She hymns in acknowledgement without turning her head. "Something happened this weekend."

He was lying. This had been going on for weeks. He had been having doubts for weeks. He'd been seeing her for weeks. "What happened? Another karate fight?" She wasn't the girl who got heartbroken. She was never the second choice. She got what she wanted. And she wanted him, however she could have him.

"I kissed Sam Larusso."

Y/n freezes. Her body betraying her as she tenses up. She has no right, she knows that. They were 'casual'. Just her and Robby. Non-commital.

"I mean big deal right? We were drunk anyways. Just felt bad not telling you. I know were not dating so it's really not your business, but don't worry about it. I mean we've fucked so often what does a kiss even mean?"

A kiss. To her it meant everything. An act of intimacy that they rarley ever shared. So innocent, so pure.

"Get out of my room Robby." Y/n mumbles, her voice above a whisper. The teen sits up from her lap and looks at her incredalously. He was only telling her to keep her in the loop. She didnt have the right to be mad. So why was she making a big deal about this?

"What?"

"You heard me. Get the fuck out of my room Keene."

He furrows his brows in a toxic coctail of anger and confusion. "Why? You can't get pissed at me for this Y/n. We aren't fucking dating. Don't get all aggro on me like you're some psycho girlfriend when you're a friend with benefits at best."

Y/n stands up and pushes the boy out of her room. "Get the fuck out of here Robby! If it didn't mean anything why don't you go fuck her then? Go whine about your mommy issues and daddy issues to her and leave me the hell alone."

"You have some nerve you know that right? Don't act all high and mighty now. You're a whore. Why the hell would I ever actually take you seriously when I can get everything I want without the label or work. You're easy, I could never do that shit with Sam."

Her breath was stuck in her throat as the boy she truly thought cared began to berate her as if she was a random person on the street. The boy she suffered for. The boy that was really never her's to keep. Y/n forces herself to wipe her anrgy tears and push Robby once again.

Y/n's hands were shaky, she desprately wanted to cry. To scream. To give in and give him the satisfaction of getting to her. "Oh so you can come over whenever you want, make me listen to your shitty life, and basically force yourself into my own life, but all that means nothing right? Well guess what Kenne. You kissed her, and she still doesn't want you!" She presses her finger into his chest while her voice level rises. "That same girl is still with Miguel. So just because you wanna jump ship and 'upgrade' doesn't mean she wants anything to do with you. Face it babe, you're just white trash."

"Shut the fuck up Y/n." Robby practically spits back.

"Oh, so you can disrespect me and belittle me in my own fucking room, but when its you its a problem? Grow up Robby. You're a man baby and a hypocrite. In what world is that fair Robby? Maybe in your little made up fantasy where Sam picks you and you leave me for dead. So go stay there. Cause you're sure as hell not welcome here."

Y/n throws everything he's given her at him. Every last peice a memory they shared together. Posters, drawings, braclets, anything that adorned her room. All of it thrown to him and crashing down like victims of a violent storm. Tears streamed down her face as he backed up to her door.

She opens the door for him and grabs his sweater and keys before shoving it in his chest. The boy watches her dumbfounded.

"Stay away from me Robby. Go back to some other slut that can put up with your baggage and shitty attitude for one night stand status. Because I'm done."

He looks at her, but there wasn't the girl he knew looking back at him. Not with how she glared, not with how she stood, and not with how she felt. Her eyes, the e/c irises reflected love, now they were dark. Harbors for her contempt. The grimace on her face was unforgettable. Especially as the last thing he seen before she slammed her door on his face.

Robby swallows the spit in his mouth, a hard lump of guilt not wanting to go down. He didn't think any of this would happen. He wanted her to care, but he didn't want to fight. His temper, his father's god forsaken temper, and his own damned ego.

He wanted what he had with her, with Sam. The girl next door with a rich family and big house. Like something out of a book. Not the girl that did whatever he said for the sake of making him happy. He really did want to just abandon her, didn't he? After everything.

Choking back his frustrations the boy marches down her stairs and lets himself out. He liked what he had with her, but he wouldn't fight for her. Guys only did that for the girl they want.

#deathmetalangel #robby keene x reader #robby keene #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai #the karate kid #cobra kai angst #samantha larusso #miguel diaz #imagines #cobra kai imagine

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aphroditelovesu · 1 year ago

Text

⸻ The Lost Queen - I ⸻

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, eventual smut, pregnancy.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.

— word count: 1,592.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog, @silmawensgarden, @elvinapandra, @jennifer0305 , @his0kaswife, @animetye-23.

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 1

''This is so annoying.''

You looked up only to find your friend glaring at you angrily. You cleared your throat and asked her, ''What's so annoying?''

''All of this!'' She snarled, pointed at the history books on the table. You were in the library, studying about Alexander the Great at the request of your history teacher. Your friend complained, she hated history class and the teacher. You didn't hate the classes, but you didn't like Mr. Sheffield. He was so arrogant and brazen. You were sure he was getting involved with a student, but you had no proof.

Yet.

''I know you're angry but there's no need to take it out on the poor books, May.'' You scolded her and picked up the book she had nearly torn up in her anger. ''Besides, if you screw up this book, you'll have to buy another one.''

''I don't care about that book!'' May snarled and pulled your hands towards her, ''(Y/N), please tell me that you found something rotten about Mr. Sheffield to get rid of him for good?''

You rolled your eyes. Had this. You've kind of become a spy in the meantime, trying to find something about your terrible history teacher and get rid of him. It wasn't ethical, you knew, but you'd do anything to get rid of that bastard. You already had noticed him looking at your legs shamelessly when you wore a skirt or shorts.

''I'm looking for. It's not that easy, you know? I'm not a professional spy.'' You grumbled and went back to your reading. You were reading about the Battle of Issus and its importance in the conquest of the Persian Empire.

May mumbled something unintelligible and you patted her neck comfortingly.

''Here, can we continue our reading, please? We have a work about this topic and I want the highest grade.''

''You're such a nerd, (N/N).'' You and her both laughed and she went back to trying to focus on the open book in front of her. Each was reading about different battles to get the job done faster. As you read about the Battle of Issus, May read about the Granicus.

You breathed a sigh of relief when you finally removed your sneakers and could lie down on your bed. The day was long and exhausting and you just wanted to be able to sleep until you became one with your bed.

But unfortunately you couldn't. You had to go to the market at your mother's request to buy some vegetables. The thought made you more tired but you were a good daughter and for that, just for that, you got up and went to the bathroom for a much needed shower, as you had been sweating all day due to the infernal heat it was doing.

''Ugh.'' You grumbled after getting out of the shower. You had taken a little longer than you normally would, but you felt so tired and the hot water helped to relax your sore muscles. It was a shame you couldn't just fall asleep

You dried your body and put on some comfortable clothes and put your sneakers back on. You took your phone and your headphones, putting some upbeat music on Spotify and put your phone inside the small bag that had the money to buy the vegetables at the market. As soon as you left the house, you closed the door and started walking towards your destiny.

The music was the only thing that enveloped you and you didn't notice someone calling you until they grabbed your shoulders, startling you.

''What the hell?'' You mumbled and looked at whoever had stopped you. You frowned as you didn't know the older man who glared at you sinisterly.

You felt disturbed by the man's piercing gaze on you, ''Hm... Hi?''

He didn't answer you and continued to watch you intently. This was getting creepy and bizarre.

''Uh... Since you're not going to say anything, I... I'll go...'' You were about to put your earphone back on, when he grabbed your right arm. ''Let me go, now.''

He glared at you and let go of your arm slowly, you pulled your arm back when he let go. He spoke, in a low voice but you heard it loud and clear: ''The shadows of fate surround you... The world will never be the same for you, girl.''

''What?'' You asked but he looked at you for the last time, smiled weakly and turned his back, leaving you standing on the sidewalk and thinking about the man's sinister words. ''Must be just another crazy dude...'' You shook your head and decided to continue going to the market.

You ignored the squeezing of your heart inside your chest, ignored the feeling that something was wrong. And that was your first biggest mistake.

You left the market with bags in your hand, still thinking about the mysterious man's words. What was it? Why was this bothering you so much? And why did you feel a tightness in your heart as if something was wrong? You shrugged, deciding to ignore it all and go home as soon as possible, but first you had one last place to go. At a bookstore, you wanted to buy a new book that you heard had arrived and you felt very anxious about reading it. As if you have to read it.

You smiled brightly when you arrived at the store, opening the door to find hundreds of books. You put away the bags you were holding and headed to the history book section. For some reason, ever since you've read about the Battle of Issus, you've found yourself wanting to learn more about Alexander the Great. You could look up wikipedia, but you'd rather read a book.

Approaching the shelf, you found the book you were looking for, The Life of Alexander the Great, and opened it to flip through. You decided to take it and paid for the book at the register, picking up your bags and putting away the new book. You were eager to start reading it.

As soon as you got home, you packed your groceries and ran with your book to your room, changing clothes and putting on your favorite pajamas, lay down on the bed and opened the book to the first chapter. Your eyes read each word eagerly and you frowned as you read the next paragraph:

''Alexander was married with a woman of an unknown origin and he was deeply in love with her and devoted, according to sources at the time. Her name was (Y/N)..."

And why did your head begin to throb painfully? You tried to stay awake, but your eyes were too heavy and the headache made it worse. Maybe a nap... You bookmarked the page you left off and placed the book on the corner table and allowed yourself to drift off to sleep, your body in desperate need of a rest.

When you opened your eyes, you were no longer in your room.

You tried to get up but your body still ached, you groaned in pain as your head throbbed again. What was that?

Finally managing to sit up, you looked around and felt dread creep through your body. You didn't know this place, much less the people who watched you cautiously and suspiciously. Your eyes widened when you noticed the ancient greek armor and swords in their hands and even more when you saw the symbol of Ancient Macedonian. Vergina Sun.

You recognized the symbol from the history books. This was a dream, it had to be, but if it was a dream, why did you feel pain and feel like you knew these people who looked at you like an alien. And you felt embarrassed when you noticed that you were still in your pajamas, dressed completely differently from the men who were looking at you.

''What are you doing?'' A loud authoritative voice echoed and you cringed even more. First, the person who was speaking approached the group of men along with another slightly taller man and second, why did you understand them? It wasn't the language you spoke, you knew that as it sounded nothing like your mother tongue but much more different. Greek, you noticed and that left you even more perplexed.

You didn't understand greek as far as you knew.

''What is that? Who are you?'' The man dressed more formally than the others, asked looking at you curiously. He had dark blonde hair and his eyes were two colors, blue and brown. He wasn't very tall, but you felt small with the way he looked at you. He seemed to be the leader, you noticed.

You looked like a fish out of water and one of the men laughed and said, ''Looks like she's lost her tongue, Alexander.''

Alexander... You widened your eyes even more and walked away from the grip of the man who was holding you. No... It couldn't be...

You had read a book about him... And his appearance...

By god... You were face to face with Alexander the Great.

— lady l: I hope you liked the first chapter. This was her introduction to the ancient world and the next few will see (Y/N)'s interaction with Alexander and the others.

It has not yet been proofread and may contain errors, so I apologize for that. Until the next chapter my loves!

#yandere history #history #yandere historical characters #historical characters #yandere alexander the great #yandere alexander the great x reader #alexander the great x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #long fic #the lost queen

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tswhiisftteedr · 7 months ago

Note

Not to be rude but you accidentally put val's story in vox's masterlist instead. Srry I didn't feel comfy dming you. Nothing against you at all I'm just a coward wanting to hide in anon haha. Ig while I'm here could I get vox general hcs pls?

What the Tv do? ☆ Vox General Headcanon + Drabbles (SFW & NSFW)

☆ Vox General headcanon + Vox x Gn!Reader(Employee!Reader??):

Some general thoughts about the tv man and also his relationship with the ‘reader’. This is silly, this is fun, fluffy and smutty.

Warnings: Mature Content, Not Proofread, Drinking, Death(literally overdose on coffe nothing gruesome), Drug use(c0caine and others substances), Sadistic Tendencies, Dub-Con, Power Imbalance/Power Play, Obsessive and Possessive Tendencies and Acts, Stalking, Voyeurism & Exhibitionism, Boss x Employee, Pet Play?(Just collaring and slight animal based pet names), Valentino.

Words: Total: 5496 = Sfw - 2609 + Nsfw - 2887

Note: I only wrote 1 drabble, i might add more if people request it about the specific headcanon they want more on. so I’m not good with request like these, I like when they are more specific so I have sort of something to base my writing on, so sorry if you anon or people don’t like what I’ve wrote, r.i.p. >:/ Though tell me if you want more!!

☆ more under the cut. ☆

SFW:

☕︎ Coffee addict and 𓏊 Alcoholic

Vox is the figurative and quite literally incarnation of the ‘don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee’ phrase.

But we’re talking coffees instead of coffee with him — two cups straight out of bed to be precise. When totalling the day’s consumption, Vox indulges on average, 6-7 cups of 10 oz coffee; in addition to his morning coffees, he likes to have a mid-morning cup, then two during lunch and finally 1-2 cups during the afternoon depending how late he is working.

Is this per say, ‘healthy’? No, not at all, Vox couldn't care less — worst ‘worst’ case scenario, he quote on quote dies, the coffee he had intake ends up intoxicating him due to the splurging amount of it, turning this mondaine drink into a lethal liquid for the overlord’s body. His heart would stop, sub-consequently, him and his body would be out.

Though the good thing — or bad, it all depends on your angle — about hell is that in about the span of 10 minutes his body will have fully regenerate and be back open for business. Some sinners call it it a curse, he calls it a blessing, as this part of the ‘eternal punishment’ practically makes him immortal.

So is he going to work on regulating his caffeine intake? Obviously not!

Worst thing he gets from his ‘little problem’ is a heart attack, and they don’t permanently keep him down. — Sure, they hurt like a bitch, and he would rather not be having them at all to be truthful.

But he honestly he doesn’t see his bimonthly cardiac arrests as that steep of a price to pay. (Honestly how can such a smart businessman be so dumb about his health. * face palming and baffled at the idiocy of it all *)

Now when alcohol is the subject of conversation, Vox takes a slightly different approach, albeit one still characterized by overindulgence.

You see, he prides himself on being the epitome of a charming, classy, and self-controlled casual drinker, compared to his drunkard of a pattern —Valentino— our lovely show host with anger issues and both inferiority and superiority complex is a sophisticated and savvy man.

However, beneath this facade of self-control, which he upholds quite well to the public eye, hides his obvious alcoholism issues.

While he may not be stumbling and blubbering around, picking fights,— in most instances at least— Vox is certainly what you might call a “day drinker."

In fact, this is actually a canonical trait, which was displayed in episode two of the show; Him discussing with others Vees on how to deal with the radio demon’s comeback, a drink in hand.

I presume thatit was a scotch on the rocks due to it’s colour but also it’s historical relevance in relation to Vox’s person— Scotch whisky poured over ice, gained popularity in the 1950s primarily in Western countries such as the United States, the United Kingdom, and Canada.

It became a symbol of sophistication and leisure, often enjoyed in upscale bars, clubs, and lounges frequented by the affluent and fashionable crowd of the era.

Additionally, its popularity was bolstered by the rise of cocktail culture during the mid-20th century, as well as the increasing availability of Scotch whisky in international markets. — this fits quite nicely Vox’s character as it is both a drink of his time on earth but also one that remains relevant in the contemporary era.

It easily mirrors Vox's overarching desire to maintain relevance and significance, both in the present and in the ever-evolving future.

The overlord definitely adhere to ‘it’s five o’clock somewhere’ religiously. Though he does prefer to enjoy his daily drink around 5 p.m. PRT (Pride Ring Time).

He will occasionally enjoys a drink with his lunch, often opting for wine, although this isn't a regular occurrence for the man.

As someone constantly under stress, with his mind racing to keep up with the ever-changing trends and opinions in hell, Vox is a type to indulge in a nightcap or two before bed.

It helps him unwind and achieve the relaxed state of mind necessary for a restful night's sleep.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Sleep

While the notion of ‘Vox's dreams playing on his screen while he's asleep’ is an amusing concept for fanfiction or artwork, I personally find the idea of ‘the VoxTek logo bouncing around like the DVD logo’ to be more fitting for Vox.

Before delving further, it's important to note that initially, it wasn't necessarily the VoxTek logo projected on his screen; however, I'll address this shortly.

The reason I lean towards the DVD logo concept is because I find it unlikely that Vox's screen would be completely black during sleep. A completely dark screen would imply the device is completely off, no energy is being received or given by it, which would suggest that it is no longer alive. Having some activity on Vox’s screen while asleep would signify that his program is still active, indicating he's still functioning, essentially alive.

Now regarding the widely shared headcanon, I have my own personal take on it.

When Vox first manifested in hell, his 'real name' appeared on screen. By 'real name,' I mean the one he had on Earth, which I believe wasn't Vox —That name seems too futuristic for a person born in the early 1900s or the kind of name you'd associate with a 1950s businessman— Vox is a name he chose for himself after death, symbolizing a fresh start, though I do think that his real name might also have started with a V.

(This perspective extends to other 'Vees' as well, although Velvette seems more plausible as a given name, I suspect it might not be her original one. Valentino, on the other hand, feels like a name assigned to him, but he too might have adopted a new one after death.)

Initially, Vox was unaware of his old name appearing on his screen while he slept since he wasn't conscious during that time. It wasn't until about half a year into his time in hell, during which he introduced himself as Vox to everyone, that one of his acquaintances pointed out this aspect of his physiology. Something along the lines of "Who's V———?" or "Why does V——— show on your screen while you sleep?" triggered a cascade of reactions in him.

Firstly, he panicked, realizing that people had access to his old identity. Secondly, he was puzzled by this phenomenon since no TV he had encountered displayed such behavior, which was normal considering DVDs weren't invented before 1996. — Hell sure was weird, he possessed technological features as part of his physiology before they were even invented— Lastly, this revelation instilled in him a new fear of sleeping.

This behavior stemmed from Vox's desire to construct a fresh existence in hell, complete with a new identity, image, empire, etc. The thought of others accessing his old name and exploiting it to uncover details about his past, including his behaviors, weaknesses, and tactics, filled him with dread.

As a result, he became hyper-vigilant, refusing to sleep unless he was certain of his solitude, fearing the potential repercussions of his former identity being known.

It wasn't until the mid 1960s that Vox had finally managed to upgrade his system, replacing ‘V———‘ with 'Vox'. However, even after this upgrade, he still harboured reservations about sleeping around others for about a year or two. He feared a potential glitch that could revert his screen to displaying his previous name.

Around the late 1970s he had made an adjustment to this aspect of his body once more, replacing 'Vox' with the VoxTek logo after a certain moth had suggested it.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sexuality

Our beloved Tv Demon a canonical bisexual man, but I personally believe that while he may have bisexuality as his sexual orientation, — his attraction to men was something he only came to realize after death. Although there were subtle hints of his attraction to the same gender based on how he felt about them, he unfortunately didn't grasp them while still alive;

It would have been the late 1950s, and Vox had been in hell for about a year or two. In his earthly life, he had been with his fair share of women, and even in the "surprisingly not so fiery pits of the underworld," his ability to attract partners hadn't diminished much once got over his TV head appearance and let place for his charming and savvy persona to take over.

His love life seemed unchanged, perhaps with occasional exploration of new kinks, until that fateful night of October 11, 195X...

Vox had gone out for a drink after a grueling day at work, back when he was still toiling away at a low-paying job in an electronics factory, toasters, vacuum, etc. Despite the shitty work he had to go through, he had the perk of taking home broken scraps, which eventually played a role in his rise to success. But let's refocus on his night out, shall we?

He walked into his newfound favorite spot, a comedy bar where he sought solace in laughter and libations after a hard day. Arriving just as the performer began their set, he headed straight to the bar for his usual whiskey on the rocks, with nothing else on his mind. It wasn't until the comedian delivered a particularly hilarious joke that Vox turned to look at them and found his attraction piqued.

It was evident that they were a man with the specific style flashy outfit and makeup they wore. The voice was also a dead giveaway. The person now standing on stage, delivering one funny punchline after another, was a drag queen – a stunning one in Vox's eyes.

He couldn't tear his gaze away; there was something irresistibly captivating about the humorous individual on stage.

After the performance, as they made their way to the bar, Vox seized the opportunity. He introduced himself, and they exchanged pleasantries. They shared drinks and engaged in lively conversation, making for a truly enjoyable night that ended with a bang, quite literally.

In the morning, as clarity returned, Vox couldn't help but feel confused. He had never been attracted to men before, so he initially chalked it up to the alcohol or the fact that his night companion appeared so feminine that he mistook them for a woman.

However, as memories of the night flooded back, he couldn't deny his genuine attraction to every aspect of his partner, even the unmistakably male parts.

Initially, it felt strange to Vox as he reflected on the experience. However, after hours of deep contemplation, everything started to fall into place.

Vox realized he had always felt an affinity towards men, though expressing it as "liking men" might have appeared odd to outsiders. When he used that phrase, it wasn't in the context of sexual or romantic attraction but more of an admiration.

Yet, upon further reflection, he acknowledged that his feelings surpassed mere admiration.

He had never entertained the idea of it being anything akin to sexual or romantic attraction, but his recent encounter forced him to reconsider as he contemplated his life and the events of the previous night.

Vox liked men;

— Vox had always been drawn to the men of his time who exuded masculine confidence and assertiveness, finding their presence alluring and desiring to be in their company constantly.

He liked when they wore classic masculine fashion, such as tailored suits with narrow lapels, fitted jackets, and straight-leg trousers. These outfits oozed sophistication and professionalism, and Vox admired the attention to detail displayed.

Additionally, he liked when men would add classic accessories like fedora hats, skinny ties, cufflinks, and pocket squares to their outfit, they added to the polished and stylish appearance.

The preppy style also appealed to Vox, as he admired men who wore V-neck sweaters, button-down shirts, khaki trousers, and loafers. This style exuded a sense of casual elegance and refinement that he found attractive.

He also had a penchant for rebellious men who embraced a non-conformist aesthetic, often seen in leather jackets, denim jeans, white T-shirts, and motorcycle boots.

Vox liked when men were smart and witty, could keep up with the conversation and also teach something along the way.

Vox liked men who exuded strength and athleticism, finding their ability to handle themselves physically appealing. For instance, witnessing a fistfight between coworkers would stir his emotions, initially attributing his excitement to the violence of the altercation.

However, he would inevitably find himself gravitating towards the winner, intrigued by their display of strength and skill, and feeling drawn to them in some inexplicable way. There was something about winners that captivated him and sparked his desire to get closer to them.

He like men who were daring, adventurous, and unafraid to push boundaries, they appealed to his sense of excitement and thrill-seeking.

He liked men who were ambitious, goal-oriented, and willing to pursue their dreams with determination might have resonated with Vox on a subconscious level.—

After his one-night stand, Vox was determined to clarify things once and for all. Following another grueling day of work, he ventured out again, this time to a gay bar, seeking the company of someone who embodied the traits he found most appealing in men, wanting to ensure it wasn't just the alcohol or the femininity of his previous partner. Without delving into detail, let's just say he had quite the night and afterward, there was no doubt in his mind: ‘he liked women, and he definitely also liked men.’

Following that experience, Vox began seeing more individuals of the same gender. However, he still held onto the notion that while he might be attracted to men, he didn't believe he would be interested in them as anything more than sexual partners. That was until he met Alastor...

Initially, Vox approached the radio demon seeking friendship or perhaps a partnership, given Vox's burgeoning company and rising status as an overlord. However, he soon found himself enamored with Alastor. Unfortunately for Vox, his feelings were not reciprocated. After that, Alastor distanced himself from Vox, leading our TV host to regard his old love as an enemy.

In response to the rejection, Vox decided to cease seeing men altogether, engaging in a series of short-term relationships with women. However, he soon realized he was simply idealizing Alastor and shifted his focus from woman to men for meaningless relationships, attempting to prove to himself that any other man was better than "that Bambi bitch."

But this approach only intensified the emptiness he felt. Recognizing the detrimental effects of his frantic behavior on himself and his company, Vox resolved to regulate and get back on a more business focused path.

The fact that rumours began circulating about his supposed "homoerotic relationships," was also a big push into getting back on track, as a word like that getting out was detrimental to business, since being gay was still stigmatized even in hell, during this time period.

It was around the late 1970s, with the rise of gay rights activism, that Vox began publicly dating men. Coincidentally, this was also when he met and began his business partnership (and more) with Valentino.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Names

Vox has a penchant for using endearing or patronizing nicknames, regardless of the gender of his employees. He will refer to them as "sweetheart," "doll face," or simply "doll."

In moments of frustration or when faced with resistance, he's not shy about using terms like "little girl" or "little boy," or even "kid," to belittle those who question him.

Additionally, he might employ terms like "Princess" or "your highness" as forms of condescension, no matter the gender of the person he is addressing.

NSFW

𓊔 Party

Despite Vox's obsession with his and the Vees' image, when it comes to partying, he becomes a total animal — I’m talking ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’ type of wild.

Lavish gatherings marked by obscene spending and excessive drug intake, especially cocaine.

Vox typically indulged in doing lines off his desk or the luxurious crystal table in the lounge. However, what truly exited him was snorting lines off someone, getting his rocks off at their inability to refuse his advances and delighting in the control he exerted as he pinned them down to prevent any squirming.

The slight anxious tears and nervous mewls from whoever served as his snorting surface always stirred something within Vox. While he would grow irritated if they moved too much, the subtle signs of fear, such as the wetting of their eyes and trembling breath, would quickly reignite his unstable emotions. He found himself intensely aroused by their scared state, and more than once, he acted on these desires…

Drabble:

You were a VoxTek employee, more specifically; Vox’s secretary.

As Vox's secretary, navigating Alastor-related tantrums and enduring the grueling hours could be incredibly taxing, but the job itself had its perks.

Thanks to your position in the company, you enjoyed luxurious accommodations in the finest suites the V Tower had to offer.

Despite the challenges, Vox could be surprisingly pleasant, his charismatic charm reminiscent of his earlier days when his hypnosis wasn't as potent. And beneath the unconventional exterior of his TV head, there was no denying the appeal of his well-built physique.

Given the close proximity and constant interaction with Vox, it was inevitable to develop a small crush on your boss. His magnetic presence and the fact he was practically the only person you interacted with regularly since he requested you to work closer to him about three months ago only fueled this infatuation.

You liked your boss, but at this moment, you couldn't stand him;

It was 3 a.m. on a Sunday, the one day of the week you were supposed to have some semblance of off-time, with the luxury of sleeping in until noon.

But instead of enjoying your well-deserved rest in bed, you found yourself reluctantly entering the elevator, begrudgingly making your way to the usually closed-off top floor of the building.

Why? Because you had received a threatening and slightly slurry phone call from your boss, demanding your immediate presence or else face termination.

With your livelihood seemingly hanging in the balance, you complied without questioning, even though you loathed every second of it.

After punching in the code provided, you entered the lounge area of the top floor to find all three Vees lounging about. Valentino was enveloped in smoke, while music filled the air.

"Y/N! So glad you made it! Come 'ere," Vox exclaimed, his gestures frantic, urging you to approach quickly. He appeared laid-back, friendly, and strangely excited, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor of coldness and condescension.

Confusion clouded your expression as you approached the couch, unsure of what to make of Vox's sudden change in behavior. Velvette, noticing your bewilderment, chimed in with an explanation. "He took some MDMA before he called you — actually, he couldn't stop blabbing about your ass once that stuff kicked in," she divulged matter-of-factly, adding another layer of peculiarity to the already bizarre situation.

‘Ah, he’s high — that explains the weird friendliness.’ You thought to yourself.

But before you could dwell on it too long, Valentino's words snapped you out of your thoughts, "Yes, little Voxxy over there couldn't stop talking about how much he wanted his little secretary with him right here. He just had to call you, despite it being the middle of the night. I'm sorry you're losing your beauty sleep right now, cariño," he said, his tone tinged with insincerity from false remorse. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he finished speaking, adding to the surreal atmosphere of the moment.

“Val, Vel! You can’t tell them that! Or they’ll, they’ll… fuck!” Vox began to say, but something mid-sentence seemed to frustrate him.

Before you could question it for too long, Valentino answered that question for you. “They’ll figure out you have a little crush on them. Aww, don’t worry papi, it’s not like they can say no to you either way,” the moth darkly announced, frightening you, as it was technically true that you had to obey whatever order your boss gave you; it was in your contract after all.

To your somewhat relief, Vox scoffed at his part-time boyfriend's comment, as if to convey that he wouldn't behave in such a manner.

"Shut the fuck, Val!" Vox began, his frustration evident, before redirecting his attention back to you. "And you, lay down on the table." Confused by the request, you briefly wondered if he was joking, but the seriousness etched on his face made it clear that he wasn't. Resigned, you followed his instruction and laid down on the table as he commanded.

As soon as you complied, a smile spread across Vox's face. "Good, good. Now be a good little secretary and stay still as I do some lines off you, m'kay?" he instructed.

Before you could process anything or say something, he pushed your shirt all the way up, ending just under your chest, and tugged your bottoms down slightly — exposing your whole stomach.

Attempting to voice your discomfort, you were promptly shushed by Vox. "Shhh, you're being a table for me right now, and last time I checked, tables don't talk, now do they, sweetheart? So be a doll and shut up," he said, eliciting laughter from the two other Vees.

You complied with his instructions and remained silent as you felt him pour some powder onto your abdomen. Knowing the drugs he usually made you order on his behalf, it was probably coke.

With that, he quickly formed about three lines and began snorting them. The sensation felt odd and somewhat ticklish to you, but what you didn't expect was for him to lick the parts of your belly where the powder had just sat — long lines that started from top to bottom, causing you to squirm involuntarily.

Vox didn't appreciate your movement, because ‘how dare his table move?’. In response, he firmly gripped your waist on both sides and forcefully slammed your hips against the table as a warning to ‘stop moving’.

However, his claws dug into your skin, causing you to cry out slightly. Upon seeing the small tears in your eyes, his mood shifted once more, from aggravation to something more lustful.

He relished the sight of you with tears in your eyes, so he decided to inflict a bit more pain. With a predatory glint in his eyes, he bit at your sides, knowing that you couldn't retaliate due to the hierarchical difference between you.

His bites started from the top, gradually getting lower until they ended up just above your crotch. With a slight, heavy breathing, he remarked, "Now what do we have here? A snack for me? You shouldn't have." As he removed your bottoms, leaving you in your underwear, a slight moist patch formed due to the position you were in.

Sure, Vox was an entitled asshole, but god, did he look and sound incredible when he was being mean and bossy. How could you not get aroused, especially when his face and long tongue ass were so close to your intimate parts.

"You want me to play with you, darling?" Vox asked in a manner that almost made it feel like you had a choice. There was something about it that suggested he might respect your decision if you said no—sure, he wouldn't like it, but he definitely had this thing where he wanted you to want him, to beg for him, to need him. Forcing himself on you wouldn't align with that desire.

You nodded, but he tutted at you, wanting a verbal answer. "No, no, no, it's 'Could you please, sir?' or 'Would love to, Mr. Vox,' or 'Please, I need you, Vox.' You've got to speak up if you want me to do anything to you, got it, dollface?" he clarified, emphasizing the importance of explicit consent, whether it was due to genuine respect for your boundaries or just his enjoyment of your yearning for him, it was a bit unclear. However, knowing Vox, he probably just got off on your embarrassment.

"Yes, sir," you said, feeling embarrassed. "So? Do you want me to give some love to these," he asked, tracing the outline of your underwear, "lovely parts?" He perked up.

"I would love for you to, sir," you managed to speak out. With a 'perfect' from your boss, he was now eagerly devouring you with his tongue, sending small pleasurable shocks through you as he did. No part of you down there was left un-licked.

Just as you were about to reach that sweet, sweet release — Vox removed himself from you, causing you to whine at the loss of pleasure.

"Don't worry," he said, but before you could complain too much, Vox lifted you up and threw you onto the couch, your face soon hitting the satin pillows. As you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, you felt your hips being repositioned, leaving you face down and ass up.

Vox quickly pumped his cock a few times, not needing much as it was already hard from the sight of you writhing due to his tongue. Getting close to your ear, he whispered, "Cuz I'm not done with you, dollface."

Then he promptly shoved himself inside of you. Thankfully, whatever he was doing with his tongue a couple of instances ago had prepped you, because, woof, did the stretch sting.

After giving you a few moments to adjust, he began pounding you into tomorrow, playing with your front and sending small shocks here and there. With no regard for his colleagues sitting right beside him —or should I say colleague, as in singular—Velvette had left as soon as he began working you with his tongue. However, Valentino remained, watching the scene unfold with keen interest.

Your soon came undone due to his rough ministrations, but he was far from done with you...

⫘⫘⫘ Ownership, ⛌⛌⛌ Humiliation & Collar

If you haven't already figured it out yet, Vox is a sadist. He thoroughly enjoys power dynamics and the act of humiliating others.

Continuing from the previous headcanon, picture yourself as either hired as his secretary or as a low-ranking demon in his company who catches his eye. If you're the latter, he'll undoubtedly arrange for you to be transferred to work closer to him.

But anyway, my point is, as soon as you're in his close proximity, he'll literally makes you his bitch on call in the blink of an eye. And obviously, you can't refuse because, one, he's your boss; two, he's an overlord; and three, he's Vox.

Who would refuse that hunk? Even if you weren't initially attracted to him, you'd find yourself becoming so after a couple of weeks, even if it's just some weird mild attraction—you're still into him.

Once he's got you in his grasp and has fucked you at least once, this is when he begins to play with you. He'll make you start wearing a vibrator under your clothes at work, ordering you to remove your clothing every morning and show him, to ensure you did it. Then he'd send you on your merry way.

If he wasn't physically with you, he'd be watching you through his cameras.

And every time you would be talking to someone and he deemed it too long, you weren't paying attention to him, or you were zoning out/getting distracted, he would turn the vibrator on to 'get you back on track'.

Though he did like to sometimes turn the vibrator on just to tease you. For example, you're in the middle of telling him about a shift in his appointment in a room full of people, and he would suddenly turn it on to fuck with you.

He also has a huge thing for pulling you by your soul chain. He just loves, loves, loves summoning it out of nowhere and just tugging you along with it.

For instance, you could be telling him about some issue concerning a recent project, and he would tell you to come closer so he could hear better.

As you walk closer towards his desk, he deems your pace too slow. Without warning, he summons and tugs at the chain around your neck, causing you to fall to the ground.

In an attempt to brace the fall, you put your arms out, catching yourself and ending up on all fours.

But as you try to get up, he would tut at you, ordering you to “Crawl to me.” You’re humiliated, but you still do it as he watches you like a hawk, a satisfied grin on his face.

If you also happen to scrape or bruise yourself when you fell and some small tears form in your eyes, let me tell you, he would get so bricked up as soon as he noticed them.

And of course, he would make you blow him, though it would end up with him face-fucking you, as it usually did.

He would also hold your head down as he dumped his cum down your throat, then he would pull your nose with his free hand, saying that “you don’t get to breathe until you’ve swallowed it all.” And of course, you would do it because you don’t want to literally choke to death on your boss’s dick.

Once he was sure you had swallowed it all, he would finally release you, allowing you to take some air in. Then he would make you stick out your tongue, and he would spit in your mouth, making you swallow that too.

𐂯 Training

He liked using small electrical charges as a ‘training method’, and this method has two stages. This would happen after he already had you as his personal toy— I mean, ‘secretary’.

At first, he uses electricity to reprimand you whenever you weren’t paying attention to him, questioned him, said no to things, or did anything that he considered as bad behaviour.

He would shock you, making you associate ‘bad behavior’ with pain, so you would end up automatically correct yourself before you even do or say something.

If you take a bit too long to ‘adjust’ to this new way of acting, he might resort to a little bit of hypnosis, but he would prefer not to.

He gets off on the fact that he can train you to behave just with his words and actions, without the help of any special ability.

Anyways, when he is sure that he has drilled into you what proper behavior is, he’ll employ phase two. He’ll start training you to enjoy the sting of his electricity.

So, whether he's fucking you, giving you head, touching you, or basically providing any sort of pleasure, every time you would be close to reaching your peak, he would send jolts of electricity through you, gradually increasing the dosage over time.

Things would get to the point that a small shock from him would be enough to get you turned on, and bigger shocks would be able to literally make you cum.

ฅ Pet

For the most part, he wouldn’t see secretary!reader as a partner. It’s only after a while, like a year or more, that he would start considering it.

He views them as his romantic interests, but not on his level. To keep face with the other Vees, even though they both knew about his crush from the beginning because he was so obvious with it, he would call you his pet.

Sometimes literal ‘pet names’ like puppy, kitty, bunny, etc. (Personally, I would love for him to call him his bunny <3.)

What he calls you all depends on your appearance and behaviors. For example, if you manifested with a more feline appearance, he would call you his kitten or kitty. If you didn’t have animal-like features but for example, were very needy, had a tendency to follow around, and were a sucker for praise, he would likely call you his puppy.

𓌏 Punishments

Besides using electric shocks, he is definitely into spanking as a form of punishment—whether it involves pulling down your pants or lifting your skirt, spanking you for every ‘transgression’ you’ve committed is something he’s totally down for.

It can be a really strange experience if you weren't a masochist to begin with because he'll end up having you conditioned to enjoy physical punishments;

For example, he would be spanking you, and you find yourself getting turned on, arousal literally leaking due to his rough treatment of your behind.

Edging and overstimulation are also big in his book, though each has its own set of circumstances where they would be implemented.

For instance, if you weren't paying attention to him because of someone else, he would overstimulate you to the point where you couldn't think about anyone but him, asserting his superiority over whoever had your attention.

If you weren't paying attention for any other reason, he would edge you, because ‘how dare you ignore him when he should be the most important to you!’.

Thanks anons for requesting!

©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize.

Tip Me (Ko-Fi) & And support my art account @maviscarlettie

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Likes & Reblogs help!!! (Request Are On Pause)

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actuallysaiyan · 11 months ago

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May I please request headcanons for Goku, Vegeta, and Piccolo having a female S/O who has anger issues and struggles with trying to control them?

warnings: mentions of anger, mentions of fighting, fluff, kissing word count: o.7k pairings: Son Goku x Fem!Reader, Vegeta x Fem!Reader and Piccolo x Fem!Reader

He has a hard time understanding sometimes. He’s a bit dense, but he does what he can to help soothe you whenever you feel so angry,

Even if he doesn’t have the right words to say or maybe doesn’t know what you’re going through, he has enough sense to be able to calm you down whenever you feel like you’ve lost your grip on your emotions.

Goku helps you channel your anger into your energy. He shows you how to channel your ki and eventually, you become very good at controlling your ki and in turn, helps you be able to control your emotions.

He’s big on wanting you to train and spar whenever you feel so angry. He knows that if you are able to get that anger and aggression out in a healthy way, you’ll learn to become more patient.

Whenever you feel so worn out from every emotion, he’ll gladly hold you close and allow you to cry or vent or anything else you need. He’s a big teddy bear, and he can handle some punches or crying.

Eventually, Goku has you training and sparring whenever you feel angry. He won’t give up on you even if you’re having a bad day. He’s always there with a bright smile and a pat on the back to remind you that you’re doing great.

Vegeta knows all about anger. He’s a 5’4” tall thing just full of anger. He’ll lose his temper at the drop of a hat. But with you, he feels guilty about it. Especially if you become angry as a result.

He does what he can to keep his anger in check, but if you become angry as well, this could lead him to losing his temper as well and it becomes a shouting match between you two.

Never will he use violence against you. He promised himself and you that he’ll never resort to that. He wants to try and talk things through with you whenever he gets the chance.

One day, you’re both angry and soon he just pins you to the wall and kisses you to shut you up. The kiss is so fiery and passionate, it leaves you breathless and forgetting exactly what you were angry about.

If that doesn’t work, Vegeta also shows you how to channel your anger into your ki. This results in you becoming much more in tune with your own emotions. You learn to fight this way as well, training under Vegeta’s tutelage.

Even if he doesn’t always encourage the best habits, Vegeta understands what it means to be angry and how it can be so hard to control it. He’ll try desperately to calm you down everytime.

Piccolo takes a different approach. He understands anger. He knows what it feels like when it builds inside and grows deeper and deeper and deeper. He’ll know what to say or do to have you calmed down in seconds.

If you show signs of becoming angry, Piccolo takes you aside and he helps you with a breathing technique. This has you soothed within a few minutes, and he continues to remind you to breathe easier.

Sometimes he can’t calm you, so he always brings you away from the situation so you can reassess everything. He’ll fly you around, allowing you to get a different perspective on things. When you’re so high up in the air, you calm yourself quickly.

And just like the two Saiyans, Piccolo teaches you how to channel your anger into your ki and helps you find the will to be able to calm yourself within seconds through this technique.

No matter what, he will always be patient with you. He’s really gentle with you too. Even if you want to scream or punch him, he’s got you covered. He’ll just take you into his arms and get you to use the breathing techniques he’s taught you.

Piccolo takes you to these beautiful cliff sides and has you meditating with him. When you’re here with him, you notice how things are so insignificant to hold onto. Meditating with Piccolo helps you put things into perspective and how you’ll always have him by your side.

#bacon.writes #son Goku x you #son Goku fluff #son Goku x reader #vegeta x you #vegeta fluff #vegeta x reader #piccolo x you #piccolo x reader #piccolo fluff #dragon ball #dragon ball x reader #dragon ball fluff

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ju1cyfru1t · 1 year ago

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hey!! if you are taking requests, i wanted to request the tmnt mm! boys having a crush on a fem! reader who’s EXACTLY like raph. she loves fighting, may or may not have anger issues, cursed with resting bitch face, BUT, she’s actually really sweet and outgoing. never afraid to speak her mind, so, she may come across as rude sometimes, but, she never really means to be. (lowkey a biased request but SSSHH, we’re not gonna talk about that)

MUTANT MAYHEM REQUEST⁉️⁉️ AYO THANK YOU

Mutant Mayhem! Mikey, Leo, Donnie, Raph x crush! fem! reader

tmnt mutant mayhem x reader

reader with a Raph-like personality

fluff! :D hcs, fem! reader, cursing

PSA: I HAVE ONLY SEEN THIS MOVIE LIKE TWICE SO I TRIED MY BEST 🤞🤞🤞

Let’s just set this up by saying you have a class with them in school and you get partnered for a project or sit next to each other or WHATEVER YOU WANT. Any class you want bae; math, English, science, idc. all of them IDC

Mikey 🍉

- the moment he met you, he made it his goal to make you laugh or at the very least smile

- “*insert dumbass joke here*, am I right? HAHAha…hah..ha…”

- Lowkey intimidated at first, he doesn’t really know what to say

- will not stfu tho

- ^not in like a bad way or anything. he’s just outgoing

- and when you finally show your outgoing side? pure relief for him

- really starts to like you after seeing your sweeter, softer side. he appreciates that you seem to trust him.

- again, he is not giving up until he can make you laugh or at least smile just a little bit, no matter how long it takes. 5 minutes? 5 days? NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER GIVE UP ‼️

- talks a lot, but is also a fairly good listener while you talk about your interests

- lots of compliments from him

- still a little intimidated by you and really does whatever you tell him to

- ^ “yes ma’am.”

- it’s giving golden retriever + black cat. sunshine + midnight rain. or a tornado or something

Leo

- You know that moment when he saw April in the movie? Shhhhh just pretend it was like that when he saw you

- except with your RBF

- nervous af but he’s trying his best

- “your number? for the project? uh, I mean, yeah that’s cool-“

- really wants to impress you in some way

- “I mean not to brag or anything, but-“

- AND you’re opening up to him? have mercy

- shocked at how actually nice you are despite your intense demeanor

- admires your confidence more than anything as he gets to know you

- “you like wrestling? yeah, my brother does that…it’s cool.”

- speaking of his brothers, they are FLAMING him

- him??? with a girl like YOU?? preposterous

- the type to agree with almost anything you say so you’ll like him. esp if you’re really outspoken and opinionated.

- if he ever saw you get into a fight, he is freaking tf out and not in a good way

- asks to borrows pencils or paper just to have an excuse to talk to you when he can’t think of anything else

- SIMP. he will walk you to class, would offer to carry your books, the whole shabang.

Donnie

- your RBF is really catching him off guard

- like, why are you looking at him like that???

- lowk scared of you but would never admit it, not even to himself

- the only way you’re really speaking for the first time is if you’re partnered for a project or if you talk to him or wtv, but he is not starting a conversation with you on his own

- IMMEDIATELY recognizes that you seem eerily similar to someone he knows really well…

- heaven forbid he find out you have a common interest. whether it be k-pop, anime, comics/manga, technology, ANYTHING. he is info dumping whether you want him to or not

- really prefers your nicer, outgoing side over your anger any day

- it would take a really long time for him to recognize that he’s interested in you

- I mean, it’s kind of unexpected for him to like someone who’s so…rugged? tough? intimidating?

- probably easy to argue with if you don’t agree on something

- thinks it’s hella funny to see you put someone in there place and thinks it’s so amazing to be able you can stand up for yourself like that

- unsure on how to express his emotions properly, but he’s trying his best. I mean, he’s not exactly experienced-

- videos any fight you get into while shouting “WORLD STAAAR”

Raph

- what a dream duo /sar

- being so for real, you would probably not get along at first. angry + angry does not mix well.

- he would start to like you after getting to know you better

- you know when you meet someone and you just have so much in common that it just like clicks???

- feels like you won’t judge him for his issues bc you’re the same way. not that he cares what others thinks, but it’s still nice yk?

- even though it is easy for you to get into stupid arguments but shhhhh

- DENIES DENIES DENIES

- “ ew, I do not like her.” even tho he totally does

- lowk rlly wants you to come to his wrestling matches after you talk about liking fighting

- “yeah, you could come watch sometime…or whatever.”

- utilizes the ‘playing it cool’ method. tries to at least.

- you’re getting into a fight? hit him up. TRUST he will be there

- ^cheers you on

- brags about all the crazy shit he and his brothers do to impress you even if you’re really not all that impressed

#tmnt mutant mayhem #teenage mutant ninja turtles #mutant mayhem #teenage mutant ninja turtles mutant mayhem #mutant mayhem leo #mutant mayhem mikey #mutant mayhem donnie #mutant mayhem raph #mutant mayhem x reader #mm leo #mm mikey #mm donnie #mm raph #mm x reader #mm Leo x reader #mm Donnie x reader #mm Mikey x reader #mm raph x reader #tmnt x reader

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part-time-zombie · 3 months ago

Text

Ok I've either reached some sort of analytical epiphany here, or I fully fried my brain and I'm no longer making sense. Either way...

seven sides = seven deadly sins.

Roman = Pride.

Easy enough, he represents the ego and pride in a most literal sense (along with passion and creativity). A wound to his ego creates literal pain, and his reputation/role as a heroic prince means everything to him since his very existence is tied to being the "good" part of imagination.

Remus = Lust.

Another easy one, but I think it's more than just the dirty jokes here. It had been suggested before that since Remus represents all forbidden/unwanted thoughts that c!thomas rejected/repressed because he thought they were bad, there likely may have been a point where he was also his closeted homosexuality in the past.

Virgil = Sloth.

Procrastination is a common practice from Virgil, one he either unintentionally prompts or openly promotes. Anytime something stressful or challenging occurs, Virgil always seems to suggest inactivity and avoidance as the solution, preferring to hide from the issue altogether instead of making any effort into fixing it.

Orange = Wrath (?)

Not much is really known here, but from what we've seen so far it's fair to assume that anger is a driving force if not a direct role for the orange side, though future videos may provide more insight.

Janus = Greed.

Greed is a desire to collect and hoard material wealth/resources, with no intention of sharing or using it. It is innately selfish (and not always in a good way) and the way I feel this translates to Janus is by him wanting c!thomas to prioritize himself above all else, even if it involves letting others down. He wants Thomas to seek out the things he wants in life (like the callback) and to take it without feeling bad about choosing his own happiness. This isn't just for goals/achievements, though, he also wants thomas to save his free time/availability for himself without giving it out carelessly. It's as he said: "it's your time and you do what you want with it". He wants Thomas to remove the blindfold and take what he wants while he still can, before the opportunity is lost again.

Patton = Envy.

This one was a little tough, but I think I made it make sense (at least to me). Patton is Thomas' morality, something instilled in him by observing and imitating those around him. As such, Patton's ideals largely come from him comparing himself and Thomas to others. Sure, Thomas is good, but is he as good as someone else? Can be be better? Can he be perfect, and what counts as perfect to begin with? Patton is constantly looking to outside influences to determine what standards to set, which is why Janus managed to help get through to him when he needed guidance in pof. In a way, Patton is envious of others for them seemingly having gotten it all figured out and being effortlessly good (which is obviously ridiculous, but Patton may have had issues with realizing that).

Logan = Gluttony.

In all seriousness, though, this is about more than just crofters. Gluttony is an obsessive overindulgence of material pleasures and consuming more than is healthy. It differs from greed in that greed focuses on amassing wealth and holding onto it, while gluttony uses up everything it can as quickly as possible. How does that relate to Logan? Well, instead of simply associating this with jam or wine, I like to think he is gluttonous of c!thomas' time. He says he experiences a "titillating, tingling sensation whenever deadlines are met" and regularly tried to direct as much of the focus onto himself and his plans as possible, and becomes frustrated without having surplus time to work. It's not like that time is wasted, though. He does quite the opposite by trying to prioritize all of the time to what he wants, even when it's at a detriment to the others/thomas. He allotted only 0.5% of the day to hopes and dreams, insisting the rest of the day be spent as he pleases. Why? Because being prioritized means he's important and respected, which for him is like the best feeling in the world. And going by how eagerly he devours crofters or chugs wine, it's clear that anything he finds enjoyable will be immediately consumed.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #analysis #does this make sense #am i onto something?#or am i overthinking it #this wouldn't leave my head #what do you think?#sanders sides theory

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skyfallslayer · 1 year ago

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A Stitch In Time || Prologue

-Bucky Barnes x Daughter!Reader-

Series Masterlist

° Series Summary: A Time Heist mission goes wrong, and some of the Avengers end up in the 1950s. Desperately clinging to their lives, they wind up in a place subconsciously. And unfortunately for Steve, and especially to Bucky, they find themselves face to face with someone they wish not to see.

° Chapter Summary: Worried about how his mission may go, Bucky visits a ‘touchy’ place, and recalls the short life he had with you.

° Date: 7/20

° Rating: Teen

° Word Count: 4,569

° Warning: Talks about death/dying; Reference to Suicide; Guilt; Child Abandonment; Talks of Fertility Issues; Alcohol; Allusions to Depression. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

° A/N: The only excuse I have for taking so long to get this out is because I had an expected mental health break. One that was needed. But I'm back! And I'm slowly updating some of my other stories! So be on the look out for those! Also, let me know if I missed any warnings! Enjoy!

The freshly wetted grass squished underneath his boots with each and every step. His shoulders were slacked, but his wrists were tense as he held the delicate bouquet with both of his hands. He was always nervous to be here, even though he’s done it so many times after finding it, the nervousness never went away. The nausea never stopped too… or the guilt… the fear… the sadness. Nothing ever stopped like he so desperately wanted to. Was this a curse he was stuck with for helping to bring another child into this cruel world?

He reaches the end of his line, just a few short inches away from where his toes could touch the stone; The stone etched with words and numbers that made his heart ache. And when his knees felt weak he lowered himself to the ground, sitting back on his heels. With a bittersweet expression on his features, he removes the old lilies and replaces them with your favorite, pearly white ones. The ones you always smelled like when you came back from playing in the park. Who knew he would miss such a fragrance?

He takes a deep inhale through his nose, and exhales quietly, gathering his thoughts. “Hey, baby girl. It’s been some… time since I’ve visited. I honestly thought I should wait until your half birthday, but…” He trails off, frowning. “But uh, I’m heading off on another mission tomorrow, a… potentially dangerous one.” He chuckles dryly. “You know the deal with those.”

He pauses like he’s waiting for your answer he knows he won’t get, letting the hot summer wind touch his face and through his chocolate locks. He waited for that as his cue to continue on.

“Uh… so…”

It hurts to even think about it.

“I was just…”

Should he even say it?

“Wondering again if it goes south I can…”

Should he repeat what he always says to your grave?

“Be next to you?”

Another pause, this time it felt more painful. It always hurts to be here. It always hurts to say those words because it wasn’t like he had a death wish, it wasn’t like he was afraid of death, he just… didn’t know if he deserved to be next to you. You were his whole world and he fucked it up. Fucked it up so bad that it makes him more anxious to want to hold you, and hug you, and kiss you, and just talk to you. He loves you.

He’s loved you since the very beginning.

Bucky would have fallen back in shock if it wasn’t for the small bundle in his arms. His ex-girlfriend had just said some words that he didn’t need to hear right now. Couldn’t even comprehend it.

No, it wasn’t, ‘Can we get back together? I made a mistake’.

No, It wasn’t, ‘The baby isn’t yours’.

No it was–

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” He asked, disbelief etched in his words. There was also an underlying sense of anger and betrayal, because–

She couldn’t be serious...

Right?

He watched the woman standing in front of him roll her eyes, snatching her purse from his living room’s couch while responding, “I don’t want her. I only had her because you wanted to keep the baby after finding out I was pregnant.”

He nearly doubled over when he heard the disgust in her voice. “So you’re just going to leave?” Bucky asked, seeing his ex now putting on her winter coat. “But our daughter needs a mother figu–”

“YOUR daughter.” His ex snapped, poison on her tongue. “That baby–” She points furiously. “That baby is a spitting image of you. All the way from the shape of her face to the way she smiles. Everything. Which is fine by me, I don’t want someone looking like me out in the world.”

Bucky opened his mouth to speak as he followed her behind as she walked towards the front door. Unfortunately, she beats him to it. “As for a mother figure, you’ve got three sisters and a mom. That baby can pick up skills from them.”

She swings the door open, letting in the cold breeze of February. Snowflakes flew in, sticking to her clothes and curly hair. Bucky immediately stood sideways and drew you as far away as he could from the freezing air.

(Was she trying to freeze you?!)

“Dottie!” He called out from the doorway, stopping her on the porch.

She wasn’t even going to look back at him, wasn’t she? Or even look at you? Did she truly not feel anything?

He doesn’t know why but his voice cracked, and although he and his ex’s relationship was always rocky, and they both knew that whatever was between them wasn’t going to work out, he still doesn’t want her to leave him alone with a one week old.

“Come on…” He continued, quietly. “At least stay for a couple months until I can do this on my own.” His lower lip quivered slightly. “Please?”

He felt you shift a bit in his arms, probably from the weather, and waited for her to turn around…

But she never did.

“Goodbye, James.” Dottie said, before trailing across the snow covered path to the sidewalk.

Bucky watches her disappear into the night, his feet glued to the floor even when part of his mind told him to run after her. It would be a lie if he said that he didn’t want to go after her, thinking that maybe she’ll change her mind if actually begs, but the mere thought went out the door when you started to get fussy and cry.

Something deep within him kicked in, probably that parental instincts he’s heard about from his own parents, and all his attention was turned to you cradled in a lilac colored blanket.

“Hey…” He whispered, readjust his hold so that he could gently brush their–

No.

That’s officially gone out the window.

It’s just his daughter. His.

He readjust his hold so that he could gently brush HIS daughter’s cheek. To brush your cheek like a soft paint brush across a canvas. “Hey. Don’t cry.” He says, soothingly.

He makes a soft shushing sound as he closes the front door with his hip, before carefully guiding himself to sit near the fireplace. He lays you cautiously in his lap, almost in awe as he sees your eyes peeking open for the first time.

(Y/E/C) eyes.

So beautiful like the world itself. He almost wanted to start taking pictures.

Maybe later though.

He chuckles sadly, tears in his own as he brushes your cheeks again. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry, I got you.” He said, smiling down. “I got you, baby girl.”

You cooed quietly, staring back at him with a bit of curiosity. The look you were giving him melted his heart, but it also made him feel like he didn’t deserve any of this.

“I’m sorry…” He croaks, sniffling. “It looks like it’s just going to be me and you, doll. I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

You made the cute sounds that took his breath away again, taking up his whole surroundings. However, if it wasn’t for his military training, he probably wouldn’t have even heard someone tumbling down the stairs. Bucky glances at the living room entrance, finding a certain skinny blond that he called his best friend. He saw his chest move slightly, and could almost hear him panting from here.

“S-Sorry.” Steve exhales, leaning against the door frame. “Your mom sent me down here when we heard everything go quiet.”

Bucky smiled a little. “She got worried?”

Steve copies him with a chuckle. “Yeah. She wanted to make sure you hadn’t run off with her grandchild.”

The brunette shakes his head. “That sounds like my mother.” He turns his attention back on you, but from the corner of his eye he could see his friend shifting uncomfortably, almost hesitantly, in his spot. His smile grows. “Come here.”

“What?” The blond said, genuinely confused.

“Come here, Steve. You can see her.”

He stiffens up a bit, looking unsure. “H-Her… A-Are you… are you sure?” Steve asked, pointing towards the stairs in the hallway. “I-I shouldn’t be the one seeing your baby first. Shouldn’t I–”

“Get your ass over here, Rogers.” Bucky said, almost wishing he could free his hand up and drag him by the ear (he was always so timid and too cautious sometimes).

Not even daring to question his best friend’s wish, Steve wandered over and took a seat on the couch next to Bucky. He leans in close, examining the small bundle in the soldier’s arms.

Steve’s big blue eyes lit up with joy. “Wow, Buck. She’s adorable.” He said, as you scrunch up your nose to show off your cute, chubby cheeks.

“She is.” Bucky said, fighting back the stinging sensation in his eyes again. He now wonders…

(Is this what it's going to feel like all the time now?)

After a moment of silence, Bucky threw his friend through another loop. “Wanna hold her?”

Steve held his hands up in defense almost immediately after those words left his tongue. “Oh, no. I shouldn’t.”

“I trust you.” Bucky holds you out a little, a reassuring look on his face.

Steve raises a cautious eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes.” Bucky laughs. “I’ll show you.”

Bucky then takes his time showing Steve how to hold you, giving him pointers and readjusting everyone once and awhile until he has you in a good position. The blond’s nerves seemed to vanish into thin air when he started to see that you were looking at him with the same curious eyes you made at your father. Those eyes of yours could melt anyone’s hard shells at this point.

Steve chuckles, and grins as he gets butterflies in his stomach from you. “What’s her name?” He asks, sparing a glance at your dad for a split second. “Did Dottie ever give her one?”

Bucky shakes his head sadly. “No.” He said, his voice feeling rather small at the moment. “No she didn’t. I’m tasked with giving her one.”

“Have you thought of any? I know you were looking through some books a few weeks back.”

“I have and I think…” He takes another good look at you, making sure the name was the right choice. “I was thinking… (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?” The blond repeats back, testing it out like an echo chamber for his friend who nodded back.

“Yeah. (Y/N).” Bucky tests it out his lips as other names start to form. “(Y/N)... Stevie Barnes.”

He looks up in surprise. “Stevie?” Steve asks in disbelief again.

Bucky smiles. “Well, I heard Stevie is the girl version of Steve, so…”

“But…” His blue eyes look away again, looking completely torn.

Your father raises an eyebrow over this. “But what?”

“You’re flattering me way too much, Bucky.”

“Am I?” Bucky asked, tilting his head, slightly puzzled.

“Y-Yes!” Steve said, shaking his head. “Y-You can’t– You shouldn’t name your kid after me.”

Now it was his turn to be even more confused. “Why not?”

“Because, I’m– y-you have sisters! Parents. Y-You should name her after them. Not me.”

“But, Steve, you’re my brother. Besides…” Bucky shifted in his seat, knowing what he’ll say next is touchy. “I know… the doctor said you might not be able to have kids so… think of this as me… giving you a small piece of that.”

Silence befell, the subject was something that really hurt Steve when he heard it the first time; Hell, it even hurt his mother who was present at the time. It kind of haunted him for a while because what could he offer to a person who wanted to share his life?

Steve stares at him for a while before tearing up, laughing quietly and looking away. “Jesus, Bucky. You’re making me cry.”

A chuckle. “Well don’t, ‘cause I’ll start crying again.” Bucky says, making them belly laugh.

The blond sniffles and tests the name out on his own. “(Y/N) Stevie Barnes.” He looks back down at you, his smile returning fully. “Not bad, Buck.”

Your father looked at him teasingly. “And what’s that supposed to mean, Steven?”

“Nothing.” Steve replies, holding back another laugh as he watches you start to drift back to sleep. “I’m really happy for you, man.”

“Thanks.”

A few moments more passed before you were carefully placed back in your father’s arms, where all he did was stare back at you as you pulled yourself to sleep. His happy face started to falter, and there was a heavy amount of doubt in his ocean blue orbs.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Steve.” He finally admits before swallowing the lump in his throat. He soon felt his friend’s hand on his leg, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Bucky. You’ve got your family and you’ve got me.” Steve said, honestly. “And you know this. However, don’t doubt yourself, you got this. You’re going to be a great dad.”

Bucky’s lip curled up a bit, not caring that he was about to cry again. “Steve Rogers. The man who always knows what to say.”

“What can I say? I try.” He asked, coping with his expression.

“And you think I’ll be great? Even with me being a soldier and everything else that comes with it?” Your father asked, doubt was still just lingering on the surface no matter what he did.

Steve gives another gentle squeeze. “I know you’ll be great. I know you’ll do anything to make sure she’ll be okay. So don’t worry too much, okay? (Y/N)’s going to be lucky she has you.”

Bucky hums, truly grateful for a friend like him.

And without an ounce of hesitation, he bends down slowly and kisses your sleeping forehead.

“I already loved you so much, (Y/N). I hope you realize that.” He whispers, lovingly. “And I’ll do anything to make sure you’re safe.”

He swears at that moment he saw you smile.

Bucky brushed his flesh fingers against the words in the stone, tracing your name and important dates. February 23rd, 1936. A snowy, snowy day. Cool and crisp. Although he had to wait and wait until you were a week old to hold you, a week old to realize he was on his own, a week to realize that he truly loved you. No upcoming birthday surprises could top this one. But if he loved you so much then…

Why were you cursed to be underground?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

When Bucky got back home to his apartment, he found himself subconsciously grabbing the bottle of scotch in his cabinet. Although he knew he couldn’t technically get drunk, the feeling he got after a couple glasses was close enough. Sometimes… he liked the quietness in his home, the time to relax, untouched and left alone to be himself; But most of the time, after so many years of being alone in his head, he loathes being alone. Friends and family were everything to him growing up. You were everything to him growing up.

He still wonders what it would be like if you were here, running around, asking him twenty questions, painting his toes, etcetera. He always wondered what you were like when you got older, the side of you he never got to see. He always wondered what those short years did for you.

Why did he have to get taken from you so soon?

You dove around your grandparents and aunts’ legs as you made your way out of the house, ignoring how your father’s duffle bag, that subconsciously you hated, was laying on the porch steps. You stumble around a bit on your five year old legs, before finding the person you wanted to see.

“Uncle Steve!!!” You yelled, throwing your arms up.

“Hey, Pumpkin.” He said, teasingly. He wastes no time to scoop you up, and carefully holds you close to him (it’s been years and he’s still afraid he’ll drop you). “Have you gotten smaller?”

You scrunched up your nose at him, shaking your head. “No.” You giggled at the silly nickname, and it all was because you were pocket size.

“No?” Steve said, tilting his head, all cocky. “Are you sure?”

You giggled again. “Yes.”

He grins. “Just checking.”

A sigh came from inside, before the two of you saw your father exiting his parents house, all dressed in his neatly ironed uniform. He looked miserable as he gazed at his bag on the porch.

“Ready?” Steve asked, readjusting his hold on you as he frowned himself.

“Unfortunately.” Bucky mumbled, not ready for what’s yet to come. However, when he faces you his whole expression changes for the better. “And there’s my little girl!”

“Papa!” You yelled, holding your arms out. He takes you in his arms, hugging you gently. “Are you leaving, Papa?”

“Oh, baby doll, I am.” He said, pulling back to look at you. “But don’t worry, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He taps your nose. “Okay?”

You nodded slowly and smiled. “Okay!”

“Good.” He gives you a big kiss on your head, before peppering your face with some more making you laugh. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you, too, Papa.”

“I love you more.”

He gives you one more kiss and one more hug before transferring you over back to Steve. They both give each other a strong hug and pat on the back, smiling bittersweetly.

“Be safe, Bucky.” Steve said, trying to hide his concern.

“I will. You too. The both of you.” Bucky said, grabbing his bag and making sure his voice was stern.

“We will. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Thank you, Steve.”

He bid them goodbye, and you and Steve watched him walk down the path to the military jeep parked nearby. It was chilling almost to watch, and your five year old mind couldn’t quite comprehend the heavy feeling you felt underneath the surface.

“Uncle Steve?” You asked, prying his eyes away from the moving vehicle.

“Yeah?” He said, softly.

You looked at him all puzzled, something wasn’t adding up. “I thought you told me you were going with him?” You swear he mentioned something like that to you yesterday. Right?

His eyes look away from you, almost like he was recollecting himself before giving you his answer. “I am. But not yet.” He replies, honestly. His orbs finally meet yours again. “Not until I know you're okay.”

“Really?” You asked, tilting your head to the side with curiosity.

“Sure am.” He smiles once more. “Now, what do you want to do? You want to see what Grandpa and Grandma are doing?”

Your eyes light up at their names. “Yes!!!”

He laughs at your enthusiasm. “Okay, okay. Let’s go see them.”

Bucky throws a bottle of scotch across the room, shattering somewhere. He didn’t care though. It’s not like he even batted an eye.

Five years old.

That was it.

That’s the last time he ever saw you.

And that hurt like a bitch.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

He doesn’t know when…

But everything suddenly just…

Clicked.

Memories of his flooded in like a broken dam. He starts to recall who he was before and after the fall. Before and after the war. Before and after everything. So as he made his way to Siberia with his friend, Steve, he remembers something that was like a knife to his heart.

“I have a daughter.” Bucky said abruptly, cutting Steve off.

When he was on the run after the helicarriers fell, he remembers his time growing up in the early 1900s. The (multiple) times he saved his best friend’s ass from being picked on, or the way he took his younger siblings to the park, or helping his mother bake, or fixing the car with his dad. But there were a few memories he was confused by for a long time.

First he only heard little laughs, or someone trying to sing a child’s song. Then he saw little toys and dresses. Then he saw a little face with big, wondrous eyes. It didn’t take him long to realize who she was.

He met with his friend’s eyes quickly, almost getting choked up by an emotion that had been under lock and key for so long. “...I have a daughter… don’t I?”

Steve, who seemed taken back by his sudden string of words, opens and closes his mouth a few times, before settling his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Yes, Bucky. You do.”

Bucky looked away, the confirmation sending his mind spiraling again, and the Captain could tell. He decides to approach this carefully since he knows his friend isn’t hundred percent in his right mind yet.

“Do you remember her?” Steve asked, watching him nod slowly. “What do you remember?”

Bucky thinks long and hard about this. What did he remember about you?

“Uh… I remember she was tiny… always tiny.” He chuckles quietly, making Steve smile. “She uh… had um… (Y/H/C) hair that was kind of wavy when she got older. Um… big, bright (Y/E/C) eyes. She… she um… smiled a lot… I think?”

“Yeah, she did Buck. All the time.” Steve said, patting his shoulder gently as he could see the joy it was bringing to his friend.

Bucky laughs again. “Uh… you used to call her by a weird nickname. What was it? Uh…” He purses his lips. “Po… Potato?”

Now it was the blond’s turn to laugh. “N-No. No. Close… Starts with a P, though.”

“Um…” His eyes light a spark. “Oh. Yeah. I remember now. We took her to her first Halloween pumpkin patch when I could hold in one hand because she was so tiny.”

“Yep. That’s what I called her.” He says with a nod. “Your Ma tried to dress her up like one.”

“Oh, yeah, she did.”

And then it got quiet, and Steve saw the bright light in his friend’s eyes go out when the wheels started to turn again. He held his breath, knowing what he was recalling next.

Bucky swayed on the balls of his feet a bit, looking at the floor. “She was five the last time I saw her.” He says, bittersweetly. “I remember, the night before, I took her to Coney Island, and we just played games and ate until our bellies ached. I got her a stuffed bear on the ring toss…”

Steve squeezed his shoulder, trying to give him some comfort because he knew there was no stopping any memories of you.

“She was with you when I left. I gave her hugs, and kisses and…” His voice starts to break. “I love you’s…. Um…”

“Bucky–” Steve begins, hating how hurt he looked.

“Steve. W-Was that last time you saw h-her too?”

Steve closed his mouth, thinking to himself. He couldn’t lie. He was a terrible liar which the brunette always sees through. So what was the point of even trying?

Cap shakes his head. “No. I saw her when she was nine. ‘Bout to be nine.”

“N-Nine?” Bucky asked, just above a whisper. “W-Why?”

“Um…” He swallows. “I had to…. I had to tell your family about, you know… the train… and you.”

The Soldier went distant. “O-Oh…”

“I wanted to make sure I was the one to tell them.”

“Oh…” Bucky started to get teary eyed. “D-Did you tell her?"

Steve held his breath again. It was like his mind started to relive that day.

You looked so happy to see him, but he watched that expression vanish when you saw his sadden face. It hurts to take you by the hand and into your room. It hurts to see how you’ve grown, and to think he got to see it and not your dad made the situation a whole lot worse.

He wanted to lie and tell you your dad was hurt.

He wanted to lie and tell you your dad was still at war and won’t be home for a while.

He wanted to lie and say everything was going to be okay.

But he couldn’t, and felt like it was his duty to tell you what happened to your father, to his best friend.

He knew if the situation was reversed, Bucky would be doing the very same thing now.

And when he did tell you, he hated how you kept on denying it. You called him a liar, and god he wished he was.

“I-I did…” He said, feeling his eyes sting as well.

Bucky jaw clenches. “A-And?”

Steve looks away for a second. “She cried for three hours.”

“O-Oh…” Bucky looks away too. “I always h-hated when s-she cries.”

With his hand still on the brunette shoulder, he gave him another comforting squeeze. “She…” Cap chokes, his memories flooding in all at once. “S-She um… she gave me her blanket, the one that she came home with. She um, wanted me… to promise to come back to her. But um… I failed at that, I guess.”

Bucky frowns. “Steve–"

“I tried finding her, Buck.” He finally looks at him. “When I came out of the ice, SHIELD managed to give me some of my things from the war. I kept the blanket in my chest, so… I tried finding her, because I didn’t want to break that promise to (Y/N), but…”

“You didn’t find anything?”

Steve shakes his head. “Not exactly.” He whispers, exhaling shaky.

“Not exactly?” Bucky asked, wanting an answer. “What does that mean?”

Now it was Steve’s turn to look all messed up. Especially since he couldn’t make eye contact again. He swallows a lump in his throat and says, “I’m so sorry, Bucky…”

“Sorry about what?” Bucky couldn’t understand what was happening and it was honestly starting to scare him. “What are you sorry about?”

“(Y/N)...” He sighs quietly, and forces himself to look in his best friend’s eyes. “Pneumonia. She, uh… got pneumonia in ‘54 and passed.”

Now the knife has dug deeper, chilling his bones too. “She’s dead?” He said, barely audible.

“Yeah. She’s dead.” The Captain replies, dispirit. “I found the spot where she’s buried. I can take you there if you–”

“Thank you, Steve.” The soldier says, ignoring the blond’s confused state. “I mean it. You were always so good to her, and to think you never stopped looking after all this time means A LOT to me. Do you understand? You helped my daughter when she was at her lowest, and you even found her for me. I thank you for that.”

Steve smiles bittersweetly. “No need to. I said I’ll always be there for the both of you.”

Bucky returns the gesture. “As will I.”

“Now, let’s finish this, shall we?”

“-Bucky.” Steve says, touching his shoulder and getting a small jolt from the man. Surprised eyes fell on him as he returned with concerned ones. “You ready?”

“Uh…” Bucky looked around quickly, remembering it was standing in the locker room changing. He didn’t even realize he had zoned out. “Y-Yeah.” He said, zipping up the front of his Quantum Suit. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Steve tilts his head, the worriedness never vanishing. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Let’s get this mission completed.”

And those were the words that would change -everything-.

(TBC)

-Taglist Is Open-

@navs-bhat @liarasstuff @justmewoo @thed1v1n3

@luckyzipperscissorsbat @like-a-domino @kissesofdeadforme

@audigay

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banishedchildofeve · 4 months ago

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˚｡⋆ Patron Saints that help guide us through the year

₊⋆·˚ ⁀➴ ༉‧₊˚. ₊ ⊹ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✧˚ .

- St. Dymphna ; the Patron Saint of mental illness.

while it can hard for us to admit that we are struggling mentally on a serious level, we have all had moments of feeling very low. i personally have struggled, and so struggle with, anxiety, depression, anger issues etc. these have been serious issues for me and i learnt a prayer i will link - here - that has helped me know St. Dymphna. ˚࿐

- St. Vitus ; the Patron Saint of oversleeping.

we have all overslept once, if not maybe multiple times a week or month. for some, oversleeping is a rare misfortune, but for others, including me, oversleeping is a regular problem and has affected my life in a various of negative ways. here is a - link - to a prayer that i found. ˚࿐

- St. Phillip Neri ; the Patron Saint of joy (and friendship).

i dunno about all of you guys, but i have lost more friends then i have gained since leaving high school. this isn’t a bad thing as a lot of the people i spent time with weren’t very nice, but like most people, i am always wishing for more friends. friendship is so important, and i read up about St. Phillip Neri and learnt so much. he is also the Saint of Joy! here is a - prayer - ˚࿐

- St. Padre Pio ; the Patron Saint of stress relief (and adolescents).

we all get stressed, duh. stress can take a toll on so many aspects of our lives, including our health on a long-term scale. trying to reduce stress is ironically, quite a stressful process. i have found peace in a plenty of Bible verses that talk about being calm and trusting God. i have also found peace in Padre Pio, a Saint who i knew about long before God called me to Catholicism. i have him on a bracelet, haha. here is a - prayer - by St. Padre Pio i have found, and also a - prayer - TO Padre Pio. ˚࿐

- St. Expeditus ; the Patron Saint of procrastination.

if someone says they don’t procrastinate, i’m 99.9% sure they’re lying. you do it, i do it, we know it’s bad, but it can be so hard to fight sometimes. good thing we have St. Expeditus! here is a - prayer - that we should all recite daily. i wish you the best! ˚࿐

- St. Anthony ; the Patron Saint of lost things.

my keys, my glasses, my card, sometimes even whole outfits or pairs of shoes… how many times a week, even a day, do we lose things we own? i’m sure we all know about St. Anthony, most atheists know about him, but i often find myself forgetting that he is there for us. a - prayer - to the finder of those annoying lost items.

- St. Jude ; the Patron Saint of lost causes (and “impossible” circumstances).

we have all thought a situation we’ve been in is completely and totally helpless. we’re stuck, there’s no way out and this feeling might just be forever. despite how hard these moments are, however long or short they may last, they do always end. we end up feeling better. however, that’s not to say that that feeling of helplessness isn’t so hard to bare. i’ve been there, i understand. i only recently learnt about St. Jude, (prior to this, the only ‘jude’ i knew of was the Beatles song… forgive me…). thankfully, St. Jude represents hope for the hopeless and miracles for all of us facing those helpless circumstances. - prayers

₊⋆·˚ ⁀➴ ༉‧₊˚. ₊ ⊹ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✧˚ .

i hope this was somehow useful. God bless you. <3

౨ৎ

i also just make up my own prayers to Saints when needed. sometimes we don’t resonate with a prayer, and that’s okay. i often add to prayers or find myself reciting my own. i linked prayers for suggestions, not as some sort of strict guideline :)

౨ৎ

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casewonnie · 25 days ago

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For books and all - Park Sunghoon

Pairing: Park Sunghoon x fem!reader

Summary: the day arrives where one of your favorite book series gets another part of the series and you can't wait to go and get a copy. little did you know it wouldn't be as easy as you think

Genre: dislike to friends, fluff, attempt at humor, chaotic?, talk of books, i dont know how to promote this it came to me in a vision

Warnings: none really, nothing explicit just mild swearing, oh and nonsensical insults, i am cringe but i am free, sunghoon is weird, y/n is weird, both of them have mild anger issues, sunoo is sassy, he also gets dragged and tickled, all of enha are here of course <3 i put the hunger games as the chosen book but you can imagine whatever

Word count: 5.2k

a/n: Hello! First of all, my writing debut wow. Second, thank you for being here and choosing to read my au. I decided to get back into writing, and this is my first ever fic that I finish and actually leaves the vault. I didn't know how to do the text messages so I just left them. If it sucks I apologise it was not beta-read, english is not my first language and I haven't written in a while but I really hope it's not too bad. I also didn't proof read the whole thing. I'm kind of scared to post this.

Sunghoon being chosen for this random prompt was purely based on the fact that I would love to fight him (affectionately, positively)

Any constructive criticism or praise is greatly appreciated. I love interactions.

ENOUGH WITH THE YAP LET'S BEGIN

>The day before the incident<

“Do you know who I love the most?” Niki, the youngest of Sunghoon’s friend group barged in his room all smiles and bright energy.

“How’d you get in, the apartment was locked.” Sunghoon lived with the rest of his friend group who were currently out and about with him enjoying the peace and quiet, well, up until a minute ago... As the youngest, Niki was still living with his family but he stayed over and hung out with them more times than he can count. This wasn’t a complaint, they all loved him like their own little brother, what concerned him is that he was fairly certain Niki didn’t have a spare key to the apartment and the door was definitely locked, so he had no idea how he got in.

“You! I love you the most! Also, don’t worry about it I have my ways.” Niki dismissed him like he asked a banal question.

“That is terrifying?” he replied.

“Anyways, my dear Hoonie, do you know how much I appreciate and look up to you as an older brother?” oh no. Niki was a sweet and thoughtful kid, wrapped in like a... dark, emo-looking exterior that wasn’t fooling anyone, but when he was this sweet, it usually meant he wanted something... “Okay now I’m really scared. You’re not gonna make me like, do something illegal... are you?”

Niki let out a laugh. “Don't be ridiculous... I just need a favor.” he assured him. “So... you know the hunger games, right?”

“You mean one of the most famous book series and movie franchise? Yeah, I’m familiar.” Sunghoon deadpanned.

“The newest book comes out tomorrow, and I need you to go to the store and get me a copy. I have the money and everything I just can’t go because I have a class in the morning. I asked the others but Heeseung and Jake apparently had some math project to finish and Jungwon said he was supposed to go to a... dora the explorer convention...”

Sunghoon scrunched his face in confusion, not even wanting to comment on that last one, and then he realized something. “Wait, wait, wait a second... I wasn’t the first person you asked, not even second, but fourth!? What’s up with that?”

“Oh, well umm, I just didn’t think you’d be up for it that’s all.” Niki didn’t think it would be a big deal to Sunghoon but seems like he was wrong.

“Of course I’m up for it! I’m wayy up... I’m flying with the birds! I’ve basically turned into a satellite.” Sunghoon tried not to sound offended by his friends’ statement but it may not sound as convincing as he thought. “Whatever!”

Niki hadn’t said a word, he just kind of stood there with his hand on his mouth, slightly frozen as if his friend would turn him into a shish kebab if he moved.

Sunghoon got up from where he was laying on his bed to stand in front of Niki, he put his hands on the others’ shoulders and looked him in the eyes, Niki tilting his head backwards now, wondering what he got himself into. “Don’t you worry about a damn thing! I’ll make sure I get you that book. Even if it’s the last thing I do.” he finished the last sentence by shaking the other man back and forth. “I’ll go get it right now!”

Sunghoon let go and sprinted out of the room as fast as he could, Niki snapped out of the weird trance and realized what was happening. “Sunghoon where are you going?! The book comes out tomorrow!” he ran after him out of the apartment and into the hallway but couldn’t see his friend. “I haven’t even shown you how the book looks like!” he tried but just ended up yelling into an empty hallway.

“Man, what the hell...” he whispered to himself lightly rubbing the back of his head, huffed and put his hands on his hips awkwardly. “He’s so odd.” he said and went back inside.

>Day of the incident<

This was it. Today was the big day. You have been anticipating this for almost a year and in just a few hours you will get your hands on what would be your most prized possession, because later today comes out the second prequel to one of your favorite book series. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about it ever since the news came out, and you even decided to re-read all the previous books and rewatch all the movies. You made a whole event out of it and watched the movies together with your friends Sunoo and Jay, who were big fans as well, maybe not on the same level as you... you had the tendency to get a little too obsessed with certain things... but hey, at least they were supportive. Anyways, the whole thing made you even more excited for the release, which is why you were currently sweating out of your eyeballs trying to think of anything else that will calm you down.

“Oh god I really need to relax.” you said to yourself out loud, even though you were currently alone in your room because to your disdain, both your roommates had their respective uni classes that morning. Wondering if you should text the group chat anyway, not wanting to bother them, you made yourself some food, got a glass of water and sat down to eat before you started getting ready and decided to message your friends.

>text messages<

Y/N: GUYS... IM REALLY NERVOUS PLS HELP ME

Y/N: ignore this if you’re in class

Jay: Is this about the book that comes out later

Jay: Also we have like an hour break rn

Sunoo: oh my god get a LIFE

Y/N: WHAT THE FUCK SUNOO

Y/N: and yes my dearest and only friend jay... it is

Jay: It’s going to be fine don’t worry about it! You’ll get a copy

Sunoo: this is what having only two friends does to you

Y/N: STOPPP WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

Y/N: yk what i see how it is

Jay: Hey come on now you two

Jay: Let’s all love each other <3

Y/N: Sunoo you’ve just lost all your privileges and are now demoted to “some guy i live with”. from now on you may refer me to Miss Awesome-Sauce or M’lady

Sunoo: NEVER say awesome sauce again

Jay: You should’ve gone with pumpkin spice

Y/N: what?

Sunoo: and also what privileges lmaoooo

Sunoo: if its your weekly concerts then im not really at a loss am i

Y/N: im revoking your... “can i borrow the book” privilege :)

Y/N: *mic drop*

Jay: GASP

Jay: oh no she didn’t

Sunoo: ....

Sunoo: Listen...

Sunoo: My dear, lovely Y/N, my best friend, light of my life, the moon to my sun

Sunoo: the palm to my tree

Sunoo: the swimming to my pool

Jay: I have never heard anyone say those...

Sunoo: the lip to my stick

Jay: HELLO???”@#@$%

Y/N: I feel uncomfortable...

Sunoo: I have made a grave mistake and from now on I’ll think about my words and how they can affect people. I will take time off of social media to deeply reflect on myself.

Sunoo: *sends a selfie*

Sunoo: Me self-reflecting

Jay: NOT THE LEE MINHO REF

Y/N: omg who is this DIVA

Y/N: okay you’re forgiven but only because you’re cute

Sunoo: I know <3

>end of text messages<

You turned off your phone now that you’ve calmed down a bit due to you and your friends’ goofy antics. You looked at the clock and realized you had just over 3 hours to properly get ready, catch the bus to go to your nearest bookstore and be there at least 30 minutes before they stock up on the books. You haven’t done math this much since graduating high school. The next question was what to wear.... I mean it was kind of a special occasion, right? If you could say that. Man, maybe Sunoo was right, you did need to make more friends... Whatever! Now was not the time for that.

You got ready and got to the bus station 10 minutes early just in case. The ride there was calm with no incidents with you listening to your playlist with songs you loved lately. It was just before 10:30am when you arrived but when you got to the bookstore it was surprisingly... empty. Too empty. Something was wrong.

Never in your life have you seen the bookstore so free of life before, with a just a couple of customers roaming around. You looked around for the table with new releases and just as you saw it you noticed that, that too... was free of books... umm... okay so they might just have not taken them out yet, that must be it. You asked the bookseller at the cash register and she kindly informed you that the book was in fact, ahem... sold out.

Your jaw dropped. “There’s no way, you must have some copies left.” you had to make sure you understood right and that this wasn’t a case of miscommunication. “I’m so sorry, we had to open an hour early today and everyone just got here after that. It sold out in like 20 minutes.” the cashier spoke with a little smile, her eyebrows scrunched as if she was looking at a hurt puppy.

“Can you please check your stock again? Or if I can make an early order if you receive a new batch soon?” you tried the only thing you can think of. Luckily the lady was nice and let you leave your phone number, marked down your order and told you she’ll give you a call if they have a copy left or get new ones.

“Thank you so much!” oh dear, that wasn’t your plan in the slightest. It’s alright though! You weren’t going to lose hope but you still wanted to search the store just in case there was another copy on the loose, maybe it was hidden somewhere, misplaced, mixed up with the others, in another genre section, you get it.

Looking thoroughly on the shelves where it could be sorted by genre was to no avail, so the only option left was to roam around and quite possibly stumble upon it, I mean if it’s meant to be it will find you. Something about not chasing but attracting it instead. Yeah, that could work, delusion was the best motivator in this case.

You got to the “thriller” section just as you noticed a book on one of the shelves, well you saw the spine to be exact, with a similar color scheme to the one you were searching for and gasped. Okay Y/N, calm down, maybe it’s not that one, don’t get your hopes up too high now, was your initial thought, but as you got closer to it, the book became all the more familiar. Could this really be it? Huh, maybe you weren’t surrounded by misfortunes and the universe granted you a lucky break. It took everything in you not to scream out loud or jump around in excitement but instead you walked normally to the shelf, the second you grabbed the lower half of the book to pull it, another hand landed on the top half of it. Oh you must be joking right now...

You turned to the stranger who was trying to get between you and the most important thing in your life right now, a fictional world... still important nonetheless. It surprised you to see that the person next to you was probably the most handsome man you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. He looked like he was your age and was fairly taller than you, with jet black hair, dressed in casual clothes and a face that could launch fifty spaceships into the orbit. Okay you didn’t really know how to explain it but the point still stands. He had a few moles on his face, the prettiest eyes and eyebrows that seemed like they were drawn by a single stroke of an artists’ brush, which made him even more gorgeous. If that was possible.

“Hi there.” he spoke after a few seconds.

“Hello.” you replied confidently not wanting to back down even a bit because realistically, you knew what was about to go down. “Looks like we reached for the same book.” you added.

“Yeah, seems so.” he answered cockily both of your hands tightly holding the book, you could tell he was a stubborn one and it pissed you off, this was not going to be easy...

“Are you sure you aren’t lost? The self-help section is over by the entrance.” you tried to rile him up and pointed in the direction behind him but he didn’t even blink. Instead, he just turned fully in your direction, hand still firmly on the book.

“Nope. This is the book I was looking for.” you were expecting a snarky comeback that never came and instead he got closer, towering over you just enough for you to feel a teeny-tiny bit intimated. “This is the only copy left and I’m not leaving this store without it darling.” his voice was sweet and tender but his words weren’t. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Your bogus charm won’t work on me.” as if you’d let a man deceive you with such cheap tricks. You sighed. “Alright, how about this. We both put the book on that table over there...” you pointed to the small seating area behind you, near the windows “...and then we have a calm, rational talk on who should have it, okay? What’s your name?”

The guy studied you for a bit, unsure on whether he should trust you or not. After a moment he released a long breath and let go of the book, you pulled it out of its place on the shelf, got over to the table and placed it down. “It’s Sunghoon by the way.” he said quietly.

“What?”

“My name. It’s Sunghoon.” he repeated.

“Oh.” pretty name, you thought. “I’m Y/N.” it was only fair to let him know yours too.

“So... how will we decide this?” he continued the conversation. You thought about it but nothing really came to mind. “Umm… maybe we could list of our reasons and whoever has a better reason wins?”

Sunghoon opened his mouth in an attempt to speak but you interrupted him instead. “I’ll start first,” you said without letting him have a word in, you did him dirty but this was not the time to play nice. Your life depended on it, or more like... a couple of hours of enjoyment.

“My reason is that I really like the series and want to read it.” you continued.

“Right. Well, I promised a dear friend of mine that I’ll get it for him because he couldn’t come.” damn him, that was an infinitely better reason, why did he have to be so selfless.

“How do I know you’re not lying? I mean at least I gave an honest reason.” you didn’t know why you just said that but in all honestly it was the only way you could’ve stalled this until, well... whatever you planned to do, but you had to think of something first.

“Are you kidding me?” you could tell he was getting more annoyed by the minute and you decided to push it further. God why were you like this.

“I mean… I just want to make sure we’re both being a hundred percent transparent with each other. Is there even a “friend” you’re helping?” oh yeah he definitely bought that.

“Oh, I see what you’re doing. Your reason sucked compared to mine so now you’re just trying to slither your way through an excuse. Well it’s not going to work, so you can stop with the air quotes.” Sunghoon was getting really tired of your shit and he sure as hell wasn’t gonna go down without a fight.

“Slither my way through? What does that even mean?! And my reason doesn’t suck. It's just as valid as yours but I'm making sure the copy is not going to waste and that your “friend" actually appreciates the story.” maybe it would’ve been a better idea to be more... civil, but something about him made you want to keep pushing his buttons and he was no better either so you didn’t really feel guilty.

“Hey! My best friend Niki, who is very much real, has been a fan of this series since the first book came out, so this copy is basically his birth right and there’s no way I’ll let some sea urchin have it!” Sunghoon was, let’s say a bit surprised at his own tone, he wasn’t the type of person to just have beef with random strangers over silly things, but I guess he was just feeling protective over Niki and wanted to win this for him.

“A... a sea urchin?! How dare you, you... potato peeler...” way to call someone names.

Sunghoon gasped as he clutched his chest.

“I’ve been a fan for a whole YEAR, your friends’ love for it has been on stand-by, okay? Mine is fresh in my memory and if I don’t read that book immediately, I’m going to explode.” You emphasized with your hands.

“Well gosh darn that’s just awful, what will the world do without a life ruining angry kitten like you.” he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

“Oh real funny Mr. Probably wears coats all the time.” in your defense he did seem like a coat guy.

“Wow you got me... I’m so embarrassed, you carrot muffin.” yeah let’s go with that, he thought.

“What did you just call me?!”

“You heard me!”

“Screw you, pencil biter!” you were starting to get sick of this pointless “battle” so it was the best you could come up with.

“Bet you like plain pasta, don’t you?” he put his hands on his hips.

Sunghoon scoffed but then noticed the way your face sank at the last “insult”. There’s no way you actually got offended from that, is there? Maybe it was a touchy subject for you... dang it, how could he have been so stupid. What was going on with him today, this whole thing was so stupid, he didn't actually want to offend you... aaand great now he felt bad...

“Hey look, I’m sorry, I didn’t actually mean what I said, it’s just the first thing that popped into my mind. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you.” you were standing very still while awkwardly fiddling with your hands looking anywhere but at him and frankly, he didn’t know what else to do.

“It’s not like I always eat it plain, you know.” you spoke softly and sighed. “My friends make fun of me for it so it’s a bit of a touchy subject but...it’s just so good! If you make it right, cook it for long enough and then... leave a bit of the uhh... left-over pasta flavored water. It’s amazing.” you were scrambling for words which at this point made it 10 times weirder than it was.

Sunghoon nodded while listening intently. “I know, I know. Forget your friends, you eat pasta however you want to! Don’t let anyone tell you it’s wrong, okay? If you want to eat it plain then do that, who cares...” you still had your head down and after some internal debating and awkward back and forth hand movement, Sunghoon reached his hand and pat your head a few times with a soft “There, there. It’ll be okay.”

You feel like your eyes bulged out of the pop sockets from the shock of feeling his hand on your head. Was he... comforting you? Never mind the weird air around you both and the weight of his gaze on you, it was... warm and tender.

In Sunghoon’s case however, he didn’t know what he was saying nor why he just patted you head but at this point he would’ve done anything to stop you from sulking and bring back that insane fiery energy of yours from before and... wait a minute. Why was he thinking all this and why did he even care? Oh god he was going mad... he hadn’t thought any of this trough.

At that moment, you slowly raised your head and looked at him with a small smile on your face, thanked him and... okay he was definitely going insane because he just found you so cute, he felt like a butterfly gave birth to a million small butterflies in his stomach...or was it the gut? Either way, this was not good, he needed to get his head out of the clouds and remember what his objective was.

“Okay! Enough with the dilly-dallying!” you exclaimed, stopping his train of thought but the complete 180 change from arguing to whatever the other thing was to arguing again was going to give him a migraine.

“We need to settle this once and for all. And I’m afraid there’s only one way to do it...”

Sunghoon nodded. “A sword fight!” he declared.

You stopped for a second to scowl at him. “What? No. Where would we find swords, although I would love that, it always seemed really fun on tv. I was thinking more of like rock, paper, scissors?”

“Okay, yeah, that’s way more doable.” he straightened his posture and squeezed his hand into a fist “Let’s settle this once and for all.”

“Ready? Rock, paper, scissors, sho-”

“Excuse me?...” Before you were able to throw the hand signs, a lady came up to you. “May I ask if you need any help, is there a specific book you’re looking for? Maybe I can help you look for it?” she had a nametag on her shirt and you could make out a small ‘Louise’ so you figured she was one of the store sellers.

Sunghoon spoke first “Oh no ma’am. Thank you very much for offering, but we were just about to decide who gets to have this book...” He turned to show the book where they last left it on the table next to them, only to realize it wasn’t there. Both of their jaws dropped in disbelief.

“It’s... gone.” You looked up right at the register as another girl about their age was checking out, the same book she had in her hands just a few minutes ago... The girl turned away from the counter, now with the book in a tiny bag heading towards the exit. As she opened the door, she turned back to them and gave them a snarky smile and wriggled her fingers in a wave and exited the store.

“Oh, that little...” You were about to head in her direction but Sunghoon grabbed your shoulders and stopped you from doing something stupid.

“Alright~ Let’s calm down a bit. She already bought it, there’s nothing you can do. We should’ve paid more attention to our surroundings. It’s over let’s just leave it.”

“You’re right. How are you more clear-headed than me? It’s odd.”

“I have my strong points.” he flashed a grin in your direction and you froze for a second. Wow his smile was so... gorgeous. How can someone be this good looking... it wasn’t fair to anyone. You turned to the woman before she witnessed any more stupid shenanigans, thanked her and exited the store with Sunghoon following behind.

“Hey, can we both agree that this entire morning and everything that happened in there was genuinely insane and definitely not something we should be fighting over?” you said once you were both out on the sidewalk. The sun was peeking out through some clouds so it was still quite cold, the streets were busy with cars and people going on about their day.

“Yeah, I mean, it does seem quite silly now, doesn’t it?” he laughed, leaving a big goofy grin on his face. “I guess this means we’re friends now?” he added, looking at you with anticipation. Well that was new, you weren’t expecting that, especially not from him but hey, what the hell.

“I guess so.” you nodded, smiling back at him and extended your hand for a handshake which he gladly accepted and shook it with his own.

It got quiet and after a few seconds you asked “So... what do we do now?”

“Umm...” he answered which gave you the impression that he probably didn’t know either “If you want, we can go hangout at my apartment, it’s close by, maybe we can have some of that plain pasta. And don’t worry I have roommates and you can invite your friends over. Niki will be there because, one, I want you to know that he’s real” you rolled your eyes “and two, since he’s a big fan of the series you’ll probably get along well.”

NEVER go to a complete strangers house or invite one over, stay safe please <3

“Okay. Yeah sure, why not. I’ll call my friends we can go together once they get here.” you knew their class had already ended so you texted Sunoo and Jay to come to a nearby cafe since you made plans with Sunghoon to wait for them there and chat in the meantime until you headed to the original hang-out location.

When the four of you got there you got greeted by 3 of Sunghoon friends which you found out were Jungwon, Jake and Niki who, to your surprise ended up being very real and for the next 5 minutes you didn’t hear the end of it from Sunghoon, meaning you were bombarded with a bunch of attacks like “See? I told you he exists.” or “I can’t believe you’d think I’d lie about having friends, how low do you think of me?” to which your answers were either intense eye rolls or random outbursts of “Okay! I get it! Stop bothering me!”

Once you filled everyone in on your...disagreement and everything from the moment you and Sunghoon met that led to you becoming friends of some sort, which to be fair, was very silly everyone fell into a comfortable small talk, slowly getting to know each other.

Sunghoon was right about you getting along with the youngest, about whom you found out later on, that Niki was just a combination of his last and first name and his actual name was Riki. Your main topics of conversations being, of course, the hunger games but also the pain of not managing to get your hands on a copy of the newest book. Call that a tragic inconvenience bonding.

Jay and Sunoo seemed to be getting along well with the others considering that for the past 15 minutes Jungwon explained, in great detail, all about his time at the dora the explorer convention and then dragged off Sunoo into the kitchen to show him his favorite episodes of the show. Jay bonded with Sunghoon and Jake over all three of them being born in the same year, called it fate that they met and something about soulmatism or whatever... they ended up putting their birth times into an astrology calculator to see if they, in Jake’s words, “match each other's freak”.

As Niki stood up from the couch and into the kitchen with Sunoo and Jungwon, the space next to Y/N was free for just a few seconds before Sunghoon decided to take it up.

“So...I think everything is going well. Heesung said he’d be back soon, said he was on some side quest. Are you having fun?” he asked expectantly.

“Yeah, your friends are really cool, I really like them. And I’m glad the guys are getting along.” a high-pitched scream came from the kitchen the moment you said that, both your heads turning in the direction of the scream just in time to see Sunoo getting dragged by both Niki and Jungwon, followed by a bunch of cackles. You could see them trying to tickle Sunoo which forced him to get on the floor in an armadillo position, a surprised expression landing on your face.

“Will he be okay or should I intervene?” Sunghoon asked, voice drowned in concern.

“Oh don’t worry about Sunoo, he may not look like it but he can fend for himself if he wants to.” you said dismissively and Sunghoon mumbled an “alright then”, still a bit worried because he knew how his friends could be, but listened to you anyway.

“You know, I’m kind of glad all the books were sold out, otherwise we might’ve never met. I got to be honest, you’re completely insane but it’s been a while since I’ve gotten into an argument with a stranger over a banal reason. It was honestly refreshing.” Sunghoon’s rambling was honestly so cute you didn’t even mind he called you crazy, and by the way he said it so excitedly and joyfully, you were sure he meant that as a compliment, and you didn’t mind it.

“Aww, thanks. I think you’re pretty insane too, if it’s under any consolation.” the two of you fell into a bit of small talk, giggling and laughing over something the other one has said, getting along quite well, that is until Heeseung showed up.

“Guys! I’m back and you’ll never believe what I found.” the guy you guessed was Heeseung, based on the single blurry picture Jungwon showed you, burst into the apartment without a care that, what was once his home, was now a chaos playground full of adult children running around and screaming. “Look what I got at a discount in a random mini market.” both you and Sunghoon stared in disbelief, eyes bulged out and jaws down to the floor as Heeseung pulled out a brand-new copy of the hunger games book you spent the whole morning fighting over. “Oh no.” mumbled Sunoo once he noticed what was happening.

“It’s mine!” Sunghoon and you burst out simultaneously, turning to look at each other to once again continue your squabble from before your friends arc. The others now going over to Heeseung to see what the fuss was all about before collectively groaning in understanding.

“Do you think Sunghoon remembers he went to get the book for Niki and not himself?” asked Jake, crossing his arms.

“I didn’t know it was gonna cause this much drama or I would’ve just stayed silent.” Heeseung put the book back in his bag, now clearly worried about the damage he accidentally caused.

“Knowing Y/N, she will stop at nothing to win this, since she basically let him off the hook earlier.” Jay joined in.

“Umm,” Niki began a bit unsure of himself. “Does anyone wanna leave them at it and go get coffee or something?”

“Sure.” Sunoo said without a second thought.

“Oh! I know this cafe nearby that just opened up it’s really cute and has a bunch of delicious looking pastries, if you guys are up for it.” suggested Jake, already on his way to put on his shoes and went out on his own.

“Well I guess we’re going either way. Let’s go everyone, we’ll text them when we get there. I wonder how long it takes them to notice they’ve been abandoned.” Jungwon giggled sneakily pushing the others out the door and closed it, the faint sound of muffled voices still audible from the hallway slowly disappearing as the boys went on with their mission, leaving the two angry penguins to fend for themselves.

-the end- hope you enjoyed :)

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