#honestly I don’t expect or want pity… this is nowhere near or close to the horrible things people have to deal with | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aminiatureworld · 4 years ago

Text

Irrational

Characters: Ganyu, Jean, Keqing, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,100

Warnings: Alcohol

Premise: Emotions aren’t always rational, a fact easy enough to ignore when one is happy or in love, or in any similar situation. However more negative aspects aren’t always as easy to ignore.

In which the reader’s s/o is jealous.

Author’s Note: This is our welcome for Jean! I have to admit she was really enjoyable to write. Especially in a prompt such as this, my guilty pleasure trope.

Not proofread because I’m tired will do so tomorrow.

Ganyu

Relationships were still something that often eluded Ganyu. Friendships, work dynamics, love, they all spun around in her head, and though she sometimes found her bearings, relationships still felt like walking on a tightrope high above a dark and churning sea.

These thoughts and feelings still lingered in her mind, even now when her relationship with you was rock solid she still worried. Ganyu was a mess of repressed emotions; isolated from most of humanity she still felt the need to be absolutely perfect near you, to never let her emotions get the best of her, to be the best partner one can be.

Which is why she hated those stupid love notes.

They’d started arriving about a year and a half into your relationship. At first you’d thought it was from her, but your look of happiness quickly turned to one of embarrassment and slight discomfort when she revealed she had no idea who was leaving little gifts and notes at your desk. Although you made a point to get rid of them as soon as you’d read the contents of the letter they still kept coming, and every day Ganyu saw one of those pink little envelopes on your desk she grew more and more irritated.

And yet Ganyu still didn’t want to tell you, for she was afraid that you would think she was suspecting you in some ways. You couldn’t control what was going on after all, why should she burden you with her fears, with the emotions that threatened to squeeze all the air out of her lungs and tear her thoughts to shreds. No, she wouldn’t burden you with this, she’d take care of it herself. You wouldn’t want to be bothered with her stupidity anyways, it’d only cause more problems.

“I really don’t understand who’s doing this.” You groaned, entering the office one morning to the sight of a rose on your desk, the telltale envelope attached to the stem with a red ribbon. Walking over to it, dragging your feet in a way that made Ganyu, who had been standing behind you, giggle you tore open the letter in one nonchalant movement.

“What does it say?” Ganyu kept her voice as soft as possible, trying desperately to ignore the emotions that were threatening to cut off her throat. How long was this going to go on?

“Oh listen to this,” you scoffed, turning towards Ganyu, a wry sort of smile plastered across your face, “my dear friend – as if whoever this creep is would ever be a friend of mine. I noticed recently that you’ve become quite close to the secretary of the Liyue Qixing. I would never question your decisions – oh of course not – but I find that work romances never last. Perhaps if we were to meet I could explain to you why, though I’m sure you already know the reasons yourself and would never dream in participating in such a thing. Still, I await you reply. Sincerely, your secret admirer.”

With a flourish you bowed, before promptly chucking the letter in the trash. “Well at least they seem finally to be catching on to the fact I’m disinterested. Honestly though, I don’t know what this person is thinking. I really ought to complain to the department, see if they can’t find out why this is happening.”

“I agree,” Ganyu couldn’t help but let disgust fill her voice, “this is harassment. You really ought to tell someone about it.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, before sighing. “I’d hate to be a pain though…”

“You aren’t!” Ganyu shook her head, indignant at the insinuation. “Protecting yourself isn’t being a pain. This isn’t merely distracting, it’s concerning. You deserve better.”

“Thank you Ganyu.” You smiled; glancing around to make sure no one was there you gave her a soft peck on the cheek. “You’re always looking out for me.”

“Of course I am!” Ganyu replied, her face burning slightly. “I love you.” She added softly.

“I love you too.” You smiled. Sitting down you glanced at the rose as if it were a weapon rather than a flower. “A pity they keep sending flowers, I hate to throw out the poor things.” Hesitating you took it in your hands, smiling sheepishly as you stuffed it into your desk drawer. Ganyu smiled back, attempted to ignore the small twinge of annoyance that rattled in her and whispered that she should burn the reminder of her suffering.

The two of you had worked later than usual that day, and it showed the next morning as you failed to show up at your usual spot. Although Ganyu might’ve normally waited for you, today she glanced around her before quickening her pace as she made her way towards the Qixing headquarters. This was the opportunity she’d been waiting for, and though she felt slightly bad about sneaking around behind your back she was also at her wits’ end, and if she wasn’t going to tell you then she was surely going to figure out once and for all what was going on.

The door had been left open by the last person who entered, and Ganyu wrinkled her nose at the irresponsibility of such a thing before walking inside herself. The office was mostly dark, and the contrast of your light being the only one visible throughout the hallway immediately put her on high alert.

Her suspicions were justified when she walked through the door. A man was standing at the edge of your desk. In one hand was a bouquet of flowers and in the other was an all too familiar note. Although Ganyu might’ve normally been merely frightened and appalled she now found herself more angry than anything else, and her words were spat out with a vehemence she hadn’t entirely known she’d possessed.

“What in Teyvat do you think you’re doing here?” She asked, voice shaking slightly. The man jolted and turned around, relazing when he saw who it was. That was a mistake.

“Ah it’s the secretary,” His smile was mocking and the way he bobbed his head made it clear he thought nothing of the half-adeptus in front of him. “I was wondering who would catch me eventually. Didn’t expect it to be the Tianquan’s personal servant.”

“Answer my question.” Ganyu spoke once more, completely unfazed by the insults of a man who was so utterly loathsome. “What are you doing here.”

“You’re rather dull aren’t you,” the man’s tone was a dismissive as before, “I didn’t realize this needed any explanation. I think it’s very clear that I’m here to deliver something to this office’s owner.”

“Do you even know their name?” If Ganyu hadn’t been so angered perhaps she would’ve found the man’s expression hilarious. He seemed to be completely malfunctioning.

“Of course I know it!” He finally let out. “It’s written on the plaque outside the door if you’ve forgotten. But I doubt you would. You seem awfully close to them recently.”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Oh but it is.” The man’s smile was utterly enraging. “They’re very important to me after all.”

“They aren’t even aware of your existence.” Ganyu spat. Approaching closer she drew herself up as tall as she could. “They’d never have anything to do with someone as worthless and creepy as you.”

“What exactly am I doing that’s creepy?” The man backed away slightly, slight panic mixing with defensiveness. “I’m only showing them how much I care for them! What’s wrong with that? You’re just jealous aren’t you. You want them for yourself, don’t you. Well you can’t have them, because they’re mine.”

“They don’t belong to anyone.” Ganyu replied, voice made soft and hoarse from the anger burning in her chest and pounding in her ears. “And if you can’t see that then you’re even worse a person than I thought you could be. You may think them something to possess, and you worthy to possess them; but in reality you’re lower than dirt and they owe you nothing, not even the air you breathe. You should leave now. You may have no respect for privacy, or rank, or profession. But the Liyue Qixing are nowhere close to incompetent. And if you value a life not spend in total societal isolation or, Morax forbid, behind bars, I suggest you never return.”

“You really ought to listen to her.” Your voice was music to Ganyu’s ears after what had just passed. Turning her head slightly she saw you leaning against the door, a grim smile painted across your face. “She’s the person in this office least likely to simple chuck you out the window.”

Gulping slightly the man finally moved. Shooting one last glare at both you and Ganyu he scuttled out into the hallway. Only when she heard the front door close did Ganyu breathe a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” She said, flushed with embarrassment and the lingering anger she felt. “I shouldn’t’ve threatened them, or lost my temper like that.”

“You were utterly in your right.” You smiled. “In fact you were quite gallant if I do say so myself!”

“I lost control of myself,” Ganyu shook her head, “I wasn’t thinking about doing the right thing, or protecting you. I wasn’t thinking of anything. I was only angry. Angry and… well I don’t know.”

“Jealous?” You suggested. Flushing, Ganyu glanced at the ground.

“Maybe.” She whispered.

The half-adeptus glanced up in surprise as you wrapped you arms around her. After a while she returned the gesture, and for a while there was simply silence as you two basked in each other’s presence.

“You shouldn’t feel bad about being jealous.” You spoke after a while. “Every feels jealous sometimes, it’s completely normal. And in this case it was positively valiant! Even if you weren’t thinking of me, you still stood up for me. And I couldn’t be more grateful.”

“I lost my temper.” Ganyu was stubborn in her conviction that what she’d done was wrong. Lessons that she’d taught herself about displaying her emotions passed through her thoughts. “It’s not good to be jealous. I’ll only end up pushing you away if I keep losing myself to my emotions.”

“Being jealous is only a problem when it spirals out of control,” you replied, “being offended at the way someone speaks about your partner, or disliking the fact your partner is getting sent weird letters every day is something that any normal person would be jealous about. Even if the person turned out to be such a lout like that one.”

“You aren’t angry?” Ganyu ventured, still skeptical. You drew away slightly so she could see your face. You were smiling brightly.

“Not a bit.”

“Good.” Ganyu smiled back.

You nodded your head. Apparently satisfied you moved to grab the stuff you’d left in the doorway. Still somewhat unsure Ganyu walked over to you.

“Um, can I ask something?”

“Sure!” You replied. “Anything.”

“Um… can you get rid of the rose in your desk?”

You paused for a moment before giggling. Walking over to your desk you took out the offending flower, opening the window and throwing it out onto the lawn.

“There we go.” You turned around. “I’m sorry if that was making you uncomfortable. Tell me next time you’re feeling jealous, alright?”

“Okay.” Ganyu whispered.

Relationships were confusing. So many invisible lines that one might trip over. Still Ganyu would gladly learn where the lines were in regards to you. For she loved you. So very much.

Jean

Jean didn’t like work parties at the best of times, but now it was all she could do not to scream as she watched the young knight next to you begin to break into verse, proclaiming to all the – hopefully blacked out – knights around you that he loved only you.

Normally Jean was pretty dismissive of the antics of her coworkers. Being the Acting Grand Master she saw it as her duty never to be too punishing, always aware not only of the power she held in such a position, but also of the respect that she had garnered, that she had worked tirelessly for. The Knights of Favonius, from the highest ranked captain to the lowest foot soldier, was comprised up of well meaning, enthusiastic workers. Despite all their faults she cared deeply about them all, and could often sidesteps their antics as the result of their camaraderie.

This time however felt different. Even if Jean knew full well that the knight probably meant nothing serious by it, knew that he was simply drunk and having a good time, she still couldn’t help the coil of emotions that wound taught into her stomach. Scowling slightly into her drink she cursed herself. Maybe she was the tipsy one, for only a fool would be jealous in a situation like this.

“Feeling already Grand Master?” Kaeya’s voice was as cheerful and as unassuming as usual, not at all revealing the fact that he should’ve been utterly plastered. Now he simply sat down across from his irritated coworker, taking another swig before glancing over towards what was capturing Jean’s attention.

“What do you want Kaeya?” Jean asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from its obvious ending. Kaeya was currently the only member of the knights who knew of the relationship between the two of you, and though he took that honor very seriously he was also quick to tease, something made only worse by his current state.

“Ah I see what’s going on.” Kaeya smirked, refusing to cooperate. “What’s going on here? A lover’s quarrel perhaps. No. Our dear adventurer seems hardly happy with the situation. What could it be then?” He let out a sudden gasp. “Is our dear knight jealous?”

“Neither they nor I are ‘our dear’ anything.” Jean pointed out, rolling her eyes. “And I’m hardly jealous. Only pitying the poor soul for the embarrassment he’s going to feel tomorrow if he or anyone in his regiment remembers this.”

“Ahh, I see.” Kaeya replied, tone of voice making it plenty obvious that he didn’t believe Jean one bit. Shooting him a dirty look Jean sighed, once more raising the beer she was drinking to her lips. She didn’t much like beer really, but it was sort of the signature drink of Mondstadt – unless you were rich enough to afford Dandelion Wine on the regular, which few were – and Jean felt the compulsion to blend in with those around her in taste and in manner. Although in this case it was becoming difficult to do so.

Was she jealous? Although Jean would like to say surely not she wasn’t so naïve or so optimistic. She knew very well that she was jealous, but there really was no reason to be so. It felt somewhat below her, to be so blatantly upset by this pseudo-flirtation. Wasn’t she more aware, more mature than that? The answer became very clear when the knight stopped his verbal rambling and attempted, somewhat unsuccessfully, to grab your hand.

“Sir Heinrich.” Jean’s voice had taken on the authority that she rarely liked to use in casual company. “Might I ask you to control yourself in the presence of our guest.”

Heinrich, apparently not so drunk as to be unable to read the now somewhat tense room, immediately and somewhat dramatically, snapped into attention. “G-Grand Master Jean! Yes, of course! I’m so sorry.” Bowing quickly he promptly burst into tears and, proclaiming that he’d betrayed his Grand Master, was dragged outside by some friends, hopefully to sleep off his inebriation.

The tone of the party quickly returned to its jovial origins, anyone still in attendance at 3:00 was either Jean, you, Kaeya, or too drunk to care about what had just happened. Jean, however, was somewhat surprised, and extremely embarrassed, by her sudden outburst. Sinking down on the stool next to you she put her head in her hands.

“I’m going to have to apologize for that tomorrow.” She sighed. Glancing over towards you she reached out her hand, which you quickly took, palm sliding gently into hers. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be! I don’t mind a bit of flattery, but that was becoming… a bit much.” You let out a giggle, the glass next to you an indicator that you were probably a bit tipsy yourself. “Besides, you’re very cute when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous!” Jean scoffed, blushing slightly. “You and Kaeya I swear, incorrigible.”

“How am I not surprised he picked up on it too,” you laughed, smiling fondly. “I don’t mind it, at least not in cases like this. By all means, be as jealous as you want.”

“I’m not jealous.” Jean insisted, shaking her head violently.

Laughing you leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the head, ignoring the scandalized gasps from the remaining crowd.

“Whatever you say, my dear knight in shining armor.”

Jean let out a nervous giggle. What was she going to do with you, now that she loved you so much.

Keqing

Keqing wanted to make it very clear that she never became jealous. Absolutely not, under no circumstances.

She had more respect for herself after all, more respect for you. It was below your relationship to be worried over something such as jealousy, and Keqing for her part resolved never to lower herself to such a level, even if you were somewhat more dismissive of the idea than she was.

“Jealousy is an emotion,” you explained when she asked you why you were so cavalier in regards to the notion, “and since I know both you and I are hardly likely to spin out of control if it were to happen, I don’t really find the idea repulsive.”

“You’re very strange.” Had been all Keqing could respond, not wanting to argue with you about it. It would never happen anyhow. No point in fighting about it.

Now Keqing was somewhat regretting that statement as she watched the woman next to you chatter away while she stood, still as a rock, trying desperately to bite back the retorts that were running through her mind at everything this random lady was telling you.

“It really is such a pleasure to see you again!” You smiled at the woman, some friend of yours and, from what Keqing gathered, a long forgotten one at that. “It’s really been too long.”

“I agree!” The woman replied eagerly, her smile so syrupy that Keqing was surprised it wasn’t melting in the sun. “We really must go out for coffee and catch up.”

“Absolutely!” You nodded, ignoring the stare that Keqing was now focusing on you. “Maybe sometime in the summer?”

“Sounds like a plan! Now excuse me, I have to go.” The woman smiled. Nodding towards Keqing, evidently she wasn’t completely oblivious, she waved before walking away. Waving back you turned around towards your partner, a smile on your face.

“Thanks for stopping for me, I realize that took a little while.”

“It was nothing.” Keqing’s voice was sharp and flat, and she ignored your puzzled look as she turned back towards the Qixing headquarters, determined to forget this entire conversation, and the dark emotions it had managed to dredge up.

The rest of the day was somewhat quiet, though Keqing could tell you wanted to talk about your old friend. She knew that she was being exceedingly rude by ignoring your cues, but she couldn’t help it. The whole situation made her uncomfortable, and she didn’t know how to process that. If she admitted it you’d just chock it up to jealousy and not only would she feel somewhat invalidated, but she’d have to deal with the knowledge that all her boasting had been for nothing. Or, to be more explicit, that she’d been wrong.

“Want to have dinner together?” Keqing glanced at the clock on her desk. The day had long ended, and now it was just the two of you.

“Gladly.” She smiled at you, getting up from her chair. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”

“No worries!” You waved your hand. “I wanted to spend some time with you anyways.” Unlike you did earlier today? Keqing bit the retort back. It would be cruel to say that, and somewhat revealing. Besides she really did want to walk home with you, and wouldn’t taint the experience with her own emotional turmoil.

The walk was a lovely one, for the day had been somewhat hot and now a cool breeze brought in by the sea blew lazily. You were discussing one of the transactions you’d had to check, when Keqing spied your friend up ahead. Before she could change your course the lady noticed the two of you however. Calling your name she waved her hand wildly. Distracted from your conversation you waved back, running up ahead and leaving Keqing behind in the dust.

“Fancy meeting you here again!” You exclaimed. “I was just walking home from work.”

“I was stopping by one of the stalls.” Your friend gestured towards the temporary structure behind her. “I forgot to buy groceries, so I suppose it’s grilled Tiger Fish tonight.”

“It happens to the best of us.” You laughed. Keqing couldn’t stand the atmosphere anymore. The conversation was insipid, the participant who’d brought it up even more so. Unable to stop her frustration Keqing walked, or rather stomped, over towards you. Huffing slightly she grabbed your hand. Turning around your face betrayed surprise, but it was quickly replaced once more with a smile. “Ah, I almost forgot. Lily, this is Keqing!”

“Oh, a pleasure to meet you!” The woman, Lily apparently, smiled. “Are you coworkers?” Keqing felt a flicker of resentment at not being directly addressed. Surely she didn’t need a translator.

“My partner.” You corrected, smiling and squeezing Keqing’s hand, something which did little to relieve the tension she felt.

“I see.” Your friend smiled her saccharine smile. “Nice to meet you Keqing.”

“Pleasure.” Keqing replied, not bothering to keep the irritation out of her voice, after all wasn’t she known for being blunt? “Now we really ought to get going, if we aren’t going to be eating in the middle of the night.”

“Sorry for dashing on you,” you apologized, something which Keqing deemed completely unnecessary. “See you around.”

“See you around!” Lily replied. As she turned back to the stall Keqing started moving again, half dragging you through the streets and to her apartment.

Finally arriving home Keqing breathed a sigh of relief. This, however, was quite short lived.

“What was that all about?” There was amusement in your voice, and though Keqing was glad you didn’t seem irritated with her, she certainly wasn’t happy about the mischief in your smile.

“It was getting late.” She replied curtly. “I’d rather not be cooking dinner in the dark.”

“Are you sure that’s it?” Your voice was slightly sing-song and Keqing rolled her eyes, knowing immediately where this was going.

“Of course, what other reason could there possibly be?”

“I don’t know, maybe you were a little jealous?” You shrugged your shoulders dramatically. Keqing tensed for a moment, before shaking her head.

“Why in Teyvat would I be jealous? After all, they’re just a friend.” Although she hadn’t meant to emphasize that last bit Keqing couldn’t help but feel somewhat irritated. It was just a friend, she was sure of that, sure of you. And yet it had irritated her. It had irritated her intensely. And what was that but jealousy?

“Of course they are.” You smiled gently. “They’re just a friend and you’re just the person I love. But Keqing?”

“Yes?” Keqing found her voice somewhat unsure.

“I don’t mind if you’re a little jealous. As long as you never doubt my affections for you, then it’s okay to be a little selfish. Okay?”

There was a pause, before Keqing walked over to you, wrapping you into a tight hug and burying her face in your neck. Drawing back slightly she pressed a soft and somewhat impatient kiss to your lips.

“Are you sure?” She asked, pulling away once more.

“Very sure.” You replied, before leaning in to kiss her in turn.

Keqing was glad to be carried away by the content feeling of being in the embrace of one’s love. She found today incredibly embarrassing and just wanted to forget the whole matter. And she knew you’d let that happen, for even if Keqing felt irritated, even if she resented your friend for accosting you and not leaving you alone she still trusted you more than anything.

And that was what counted.

#ganyu's is so long lol #it's a theme #anyways this was really fun #also jean is a new writing fav #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #ganyu #jean #keqing #ganyu x reader #jean x reader #keqing x reader #requested #scenarios #my writing

190 notes · View notes

andypantsx3 · 4 years ago

Text

statistically significant | 4 | bakugou/reader

length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters

summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior

For someone so loud and obnoxious, Bakugou was proving incredibly difficult to track down.

You spent the next few days hunting all over Miruko’s agency for him, an apology sitting uncomfortably in the back of your mouth, but no matter where you went, the hero was nowhere to be found. You prowled inexhaustibly through the fluorescent halls of the underground floors, and poked around curiously amongst the messy piles of paperwork on the business floor. You’d even switched up your schedule in case he was specifically timing his entrances and exits around you, and had taken to lingering suspiciously around the training rooms like some kind of leery pervert, eyeing every blonde head of hair with a little too much interest.

The more you thought about it, though, the more you realized Bakugou wasn’t exactly the type to hide and avoid confrontation, so eventually you moved on to interrogating Mina and Kaminari on Bakugou’s whereabouts. Both of them claimed not to know anything, and no one else seemed to have anything more helpful to say either, nothing more than “I don’t know, haven’t seen him.” It was reaching the point where you were honestly considering filing a missing persons report if he didn’t turn up soon.

It wasn’t until Friday morning that you finally glimpsed a head of messy, ash-blonde hair stalking down the hall to one of the training rooms. You all but fell out of your chair and launched yourself out of the surveillance room after him, shoes slapping loudly in the hall.

You weren't exactly being sneaky, but you didn't expect Bakugou to react the way he did. As soon as you got close, he stiffened and whirled on you. You caught a flash of red eyes and white teeth bared in a snarl before the hallway tipped out of focus and your back hit the wall, Bakgou’s hand clenched in the scruff of your shirt.

“The fuck are you doing?” Bakugou demanded, crimson gaze searching you over. A scowl sat heavily on his mouth, and you noticed that the corner of it was bruised. A long scratch ran across the bridge of his nose, tapering off over one high cheekbone. The rest of him looked untouched--he was clean, and dressed in simple, dark training clothes again that hugged the planes of his chest and strong thighs.

You stared up at him, shocked to find yourself against a wall again. “You’re--you’re here.”

A blonde eyebrow went up. “I fucking work here, nerd.”

You suppressed an eye roll. “That’s not what I meant, Bakugou. I’ve been looking for you--I need to talk to you.”

“So you thought you’d charge me like a fucking rhinocerous?” he demanded. His fingers unclenched from your shirt, however, relaxing against your collarbone. You fought down a shiver as his callouses caught on your skin.

“Don’t run up behind a hero like that, idiot. Especially after a mission,” he growled.

You eyed the cut across his nose speculatively. “Is that where you were this week?”

“That’s none of your damn business, is it, you nosy little shit?” he asked, something like a self-satisfied smirk pulling at the edge of his mouth.

You let your head fall back against the wall with a thunk, sighing. You’d forgotten how annoying he was in the near week you hadn’t seen him. It was going to make apologizing so fucking frustrating.

“Can you please just not make everything so difficult for once?” you asked absently, trying to dredge up enough humility to get on with your apology.

Bakugou let out a grunt, but shifted closer, one very intimidating bicep coming up to frame your head. Your mouth suddenly went very dry.

“You’re one to fucking talk,” Bakugou said, staring at you with intent.

Mina’s comments on his romantic preferences flitted to the surface of your mind in a wild flurry. Your face heated, and you desperately pushed the memories down. As much as you wanted to snipe at him with an unexpected comeback on what he really thought of women who didn’t take his shit, you did not want him to know you’d been discussing his inclinations. Besides, that would be presumptuous. Just because he had a thing for mouthy girls in general did not mean that preference extended to under-caffeinated and irritable data scientists.

You pushed yourself away from him, pressing harder into the wall in an attempt to create space. “Look, I didn’t come here to fight with you, okay?”

Those crimson eyes watched you impassively.

“Then what the fuck did you want, nerd?” he asked, leaning slightly closer where you’d just managed to create an inch of extra space. You caught that scent again, hot and butter-sweet in your nose, like burnt caramel, and tried your hardest to ignore exactly how symmetrical his face was up close.

You suppressed an eye twitch. What was his thing about walls and intimidating people? And why was he so close to you? Had this man never heard of personal space?

“Actually, I came to apologize,” you said haltingly, looking up at him. If you hadn’t been watching him carefully, you might not have caught the minute widening of his eyes, the very slightest downturn of his blonde brows.

“What?” he rasped.

“You heard me,” you insisted. “I didn’t mean that you were--uh--weak. When I said I would help the other day. That’s the opposite of what I meant.”

Bakugou’s mouth pulled into an immediate snarl. “Fuck you. I don’t need your pity. I can handle myself fucking fine.”

You huffed. “I don’t pity you. That’s not what I meant.”

“If you fucking think--”

“I don’t!” you yelped, seeming to startle him. “Can you just listen for ten seconds? I’m trying to say something here.”

“Fucking obviously--”

“Bakugou, shut up!” you demanded. “This whole situation isn’t what you think it is, okay? I--I only made a bet with you in the first place because I thought you could jump rank, alright? When I say I’m helping you, I mean that I’m giving you insight because I firmly believe that you are capable of pulling this off. I....honestly, I wouldn’t have even made the damn bet if I didn’t actually want you to try this, because everyone knows you can do literally anything if you want it enough. Obviously you’re going to win.”

He was staring now, and it was all you could do not to shrink under the intensity of his gaze.

“So before you get your panties all in a twist over the fact that I used the word help, just remember that it doesn’t mean I think you’re incapable. I think you’re the most capable out of everyone here. And if you would stop being such a fussy baby for five frigging minutes, we could get back to retraining your habits so you could prove that you are!” you finished, huffing a little with the force of your anger. You forced your fists to uncurl from where they had balled up at your side.

Bakugou watched you carefully, unnervingly silent. You could feel his gaze almost like a touch where it brushed over you, and you fixed your eyes resolutely below his face, not wanting to look at him. You shifted uncomfortably against the cold plaster of the wall, waiting for the dam to break. Where was the screaming? When was it coming?

To your horror, a smirk pulled at the corner of Bakugou’s mouth instead.

“You think I’m the most capable, huh?” he asked. His arm shifted closer.

A flush washed through you with startling speed, heating your cheeks. “Oh my god. Shut up.”

His smirk widened into a predatory smile, baring a pointed canine. “It’s okay. You can own up to your little crush on me, nerd.”

You stared at him in shock. “How is that what you took away from this conversation? I didn’t say that. How in the world would you think that, when all you do is shove me against walls and act like a ginormous baby?”

“You’d prefer I shove you against walls and do something else?” he asked, a blonde eyebrow raising.

Your mind blanked out, fuzzy with static for a moment. You fought down a tiny, traitorous shiver. What the hell was going on in his brain? And how in the actual fuck was this the turn the conversation was taking? All you had wanted to do was get him out of his snit fit so you could get back on track to obtaining software engineers. How had he gotten so off track?

“That’s not what I--! I mean, you--!” you babbled uselessly, freezing up when he shifted his arm. He watched you with obvious relish.

“Ugh, I think I prefer you when you’re screaming at me,” you groused.

Bakugou’s smirk turned wicked, and he opened his mouth to say something you were certain you absolutely did not want to hear. Panicking, you brought a hand up and shoved it over his mouth.

“Whatever is about to come out of there, just keep it to yourself,” you commanded. “Now you’ve wasted enough time dicking around. We need to retrain your habits stat if you want to have enough time for everything to propagate in the model by the end of the month.”

A rough palm came up to yank your hand away from his face. “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not if you want any chance of actually winning the bet.”

Bakugou scoffed, but to your surprise, he didn’t outright dismiss you. His eyes roved over you for a few seconds more, before he pronounced imperiously, “Tell me your big plan then, nerd. I’ll decide if it’s worth my damn time.”

You sighed. It was probably too much to hope that he’d suddenly be totally amenable to everything after your big speech. He wouldn’t be Bakugou Katsuki if he didn’t make everything such a production. At least he was still here and listening, despite the front he was putting up. And the weird conversational detour he’d attempted to take.

“I was thinking you need team training,” you said lightly. “To get in the habit of sticking close by to other heroes, and to practice evaluating situations more slowly.”

He regarded you consideringly, scarlet eyes flicking over your face. “You want me to train with a bunch of these b-list fucking idiots?”

You suppressed another eye roll. “Teammates. I want you to train with your teammates, Bakugou.”

He made a dismissive noise. “As if. I’m not going near any of those annoying little shits.”

You eyed him speculatively, a thought forming in the back of your mind. “....What about annoying little shits that will go near you?”

He scowled. “What?”

You gestured past him, to the window of a nearby training room, where two familiar figures were darting around the space, throwing up middle fingers at each other as often as attacks. “I have some people in mind.”

Bakugou glanced over his shoulder. Enough of his face was in view for you to see the thunderous expression that overtook over his features as he regarded his friends.

When he turned back to you, he was growling. “No. Absolutely fucking not.”

“Heya Blasty!” Kaminari chirped over his shoulder, pausing when you’d opened the door to the training room. “And stats girl! Come to let a real hero show you how it’s done?”

He shifted up out of a crouch, scrubbing a hand through his hair. Sweat had dried in it, standing some of it on end like he’d been hit with his own lightning. Actually, judging from the singe marks all over his clothes, maybe he had.

“Shut the fuck up before I blow your brains right outta your skull,” Bakugou’s sharp tone issued from somewhere over your shoulder. You could hear debris crunching heavily under his boots, like he was stomping a little.

Mina’s wild pink curls peeked out from behind an overturned car. “Do I hear the dulcet tones of my sunshine boy, Bakugou Katsuki?”

A telltale round of crackling went off behind you, accompanied by a snarl. Mina just laughed, sliding out fully from her hiding place, looking completely unthreatened. “Relax, Blasty. No one’s around to question your tough guy image.”

Bakugou made a dismissive noise. “The fuck do you know.”

Mina made an amused humming noise. Her dark eyes found yours and she smiled conspiratorially. You were struck again by the mental image of Bakugou in makeup and had to suppress a wild laugh.

“Hey, quit it with the fucking face over there,” Bakugou barked, seeming to detect that mutual amusement was being shared at his expense. He surged past you to put his entire palm over Mina’s face. Mina only laughed louder, her peals of bright laughter muffled slightly in his hand. “I’ll fucking end you.”

Kaminari dismissed the two of them, golden eyes flicking over to you. He smiled boyishly. “So, stats girl. What brings you and your angry pomeranian here?”

“Hey, fuck you, pikachu,” Bakugou growled. Then, “You fucking--raccoon--did you just lick me?”

You bit down on a smile, glancing between Mina and Kaminari. It was unexpectedly cute, the way Bakugou was clearly outmatched by his chaotic friends. They seemed supremely unconcerned with the fact that he might actually follow through on his threats, if the way Mina was making kissing noises into his hand was any indication.

“I thought I’d ask if you guys would be willing to train with Bakugou. He needs...adjustments,” you said, making sure to steer clear of the word help. You’d said your apology, and it seemed like Bakugou understood now, but you didn’t want to muddy the waters any on that point.

“Aww, and you came to little old us?” Kaminari asked Bakugou. His tone did nothing to disguise his obvious glee.

“Fuck you, I didn’t come to you--”

“I did,” you pronounced, deciding to help Bakugou out a little. You weren’t going to get anywhere if he spent the whole afternoon flinging insults and insisting he didn’t need anything from Mina and Kaminari. “He has two areas he wants to retrain on. This afternoon I was thinking you could run a couple simulations where he has to stick close to you two instead of going off on his own to do whatever he wants.”

“I don’t go off and do whatever, you damn nerd, I finish the fucking fight--”

“Do you guys think you might be able to spare an hour or two?” you asked loudly. “I’m sure he’d be willing to return the favor for your retraining.”

Kaminari looked positively gleeful, and Mina’s unusual eyes sparkled curiously from over Bakugou’s broad hand. To your surprise, Bakugou didn’t disagree.

“If I get to play villain, I’m in!” Mina agreed, finally shaking Bakugou’s hand off. “I’m gonna melt your legs off,” she told him.

He scoffed. “Good luck trying without any damn arms.”

She made a kissy face at him. “Gonna be hard to come at me if you have to stick to Denki the whole time.”

“Hey,” Kaminari protested indignantly, but he was drowned out by Bakugou descending into an incredibly explicit rant full of choice invectives. This seemed to prompt both Mina and Kaminari to let loose their own shit talk--Mina's comments in particular so obscene and inventive they would make a frat boy blush. It took some prompting and several minutes before the three of them were coherent enough to discuss the training again.

When you eventually managed to reroute them, they drew up the terms of their practice--Bakugou couldn’t go further than fifty feet from Kaminari for the duration of the exercise, and he’d be docked points for every possible opportunity he had where he might have assisted Kaminari and instead went in for the kill on his own. You agreed to code something up quick to layer over the training footage, to identify when Bakugou strayed too far from Kaminari, or went for a shot himself. To make it stick, Mina also insisted that at the end of the exercise, if Bakugou had managed to lose more than ten points, he had to submit to a punishment of Mina and Kaminari's choosing. You shuddered to think of what that was.

Once the details were fully hashed out, you found yourself being immediately shepherded out of the training room by Bakugou. He ushered you along impatiently like a dog corralling a wayward sheep.

“I’m gonna let loose on these fucking clowns--don’t need your quirkless ass getting in the way,” he groused as he led you. This drew you up short at the threshold, and you gaped at him, eyes darting up to catch his.

You...hadn’t told him you were quirkless. In fact, you were sure you hadn’t discussed that with anyone here, not even Miruko. The fact wasn’t something that bothered you, but it also wasn’t the sort of thing you brought up all too often. So....how did Bakugou know?

His scarlet gaze flicked almost lazily over you, and he seemed to catch the unspoken question. Rubble crackled under his boots as he shifted his weight to one hip. “What? You think you’re the only one who’s done their research, brat?”

You felt your heartbeat stutter and then pick up, just the slightest bit. Done...his research? What exactly did that mean? And if he meant what you thought he meant, what was it he’d been trying to learn about you? And why did he need to know?

“Bakugou, what--?” you began, but he cut you off by raising one large hand and shoving you through the door. He leaned out after you, and you caught a hint of that burnt caramel scent again. Your mind fogged a little at his proximity.

“I’m gonna win the fucking bet,” he pronounced slowly, scarlet gaze cutting into you, “and then you’re in for it, nerd.”

You gawped up at him, unable to help the way your mouth hung open. Was he threatening you? And if yes, why was he looking so unusually calm about it? Where was the rage, the snarling and the spitting like a wet cat? And why was he looking at you like that?

Bakugou answered none of your questions, tossing you a wicked smirk instead. Then he turned and slammed the door closed on you, leaving you alone with a swirl of hazy, half-formed concerns.

What....the fuck had just happened?

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia #bnha #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou

393 notes · View notes

danddymaro · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet Annoyance | Rohan Kishibe x Reader

Rohan's used to being alone, so maybe he doesn't know how to properly deal with the reader.

Reader Insert // The reader is brought into the world without any memories or recollection of the past, this makes it easier + It's easy to assume wild shit like this wouldn't happen to Rohan. (◍˃̶ᗜ˂̶◍)ﾉ”

Flashbacks are in italics: Example

Thoughts are italics in quotes: ‘Example’

Wordcount: 2735

Sweet Annoyance

She silently stood by his side, glancing down at his work with Wonder, truly amazed at his genius, finding every graceful flick his wrist performed to be awestriking. And if that wasn't enough, she was even more enthralled by the sight of his vigorous movements as he moved with more viciousness, his every stroke somehow becoming even more precise and keen during then.

'Wow,' she thought with a soft breath that could have easily been mistaken with a little gasp.

She was amazed a human could draw with such elegance and perfection. Much more, she was astonished at how focused he could be, his vibrant eyes practically glowing with fierceness, enough so that she was certain that if they found their way to hers in that passionate state, she'd be struck stupid.

‘He’s strange,’ She told herself, ‘ But all the same, he’s captivating,’ She added, knowing that there was very little that could compare to his magnetism.

'He's really amazing,' She surmised, having come to the conclusion herself, all by simply observing him.

Once again he felt a pair of eyes land on him, causing an involuntary shiver to course through him as he felt the presence near.

"...Is there anything you need?" he muttered lowly, before drawing in a low breath, his left hand's finger rimming the cup of warm tea before him whilst his right was still occupied with holding his pen upright, the inky tip hovering over the blank page that lay before him.

"...Besides of course leaving me this," he added while speaking in the same, low tone that was touched by a graze of annoyance.

'I didn't ask for it, ' he thought to himself, 'but nonetheless...it is a kind gesture,' he continued on, knowing that after all, he wasn't going to reject it, but, then again, it wasn't like he was going to praise her for it either.

'-It's not like I asked her,' He stubbornly thought to himself while dragging his index finger down the side of the cup, soon meeting the surface of the desk, tapping it with contemplation.

'However, I will admit...She's undeniably sweet.' He determined, having spent enough time around her to conclude it with certainty, 'Perhaps to a fault,' He went on, growing weary of the attentiveness she displayed towards him.

‘I mean, she could have just left this behind and preoccupied herself with something else,’ He thought to himself, ‘ Honestly, does she think these are conditions for me to work under?’ He thought while irked.

'With her here... staring at me like that...' He went on, trying not to think much about it, ‘- I mean, doesn’t she have better things to do then bother me?’ He wondered languidly, craning his head back to momentarily gaze at her.

Shaking her head she sported a soft, uncertain smile,

"That should be it..but,” She started while leaning back on her heels, rocking back in forth in a way that made her seem childish, and in a sense, cute.

“ You've been in here all day," she answered him, and all the while his eyes were stuck to her, his sharp gaze narrowed to her little figure as it fidgeted.

"um...and ...I….well...," She mumbled incoherently as she shifted uncomfortably, a small huff then being released as she tried to continue, but obviously lacking the confidence.

"Alright then ?" he slowly said back, "Well, If there is nothing else-" he started, cut off as she spoke again,

"Rohan, Are you hungry?" She asked him, soon stepping closer into his workspace as she asked the question, and he could tell that it was the one she wanted to ask before.

There was a sweet upturn to the corners of her lips that was not only genuine and sweet but relieved as she finally let the words escape,

" I can try and make you something....anything really," she insisted, her (e/c) colored eyes seeming to twinkle with anticipation.

" That won't be necessary," he said softly, his entire body now pointed to hers, and by then the pen in his hand had escaped his grasp, lying forgotten on the desk as he watched her.

' She does that so much,' he thought to himself while watching the teasing, little color that lay beneath her (s/c) skin surfacing yet again, and during then her lips begged for attention, the little nibble she executed giving them a more rosy color, enticing him.

Unblinking, he leaned out from his chair slightly, ' and it's so intriguing... so memorizing.' he mused, involuntarily taking a bite of his own lower lip.

‘I can’t help but wonder if they feel just as tender as they look’ He told himself, contemplating on whether or not her mouth was as soft as it looked, despite the abuse she repeatedly forced upon the flesh.

His body gravitated towards her even more, and before he knew it, he slid off of the seat, soon falling to his knees, his two palms laying flat onto the ground as he caught himself.

“Rohan! Are you okay?” She said with worry, immediately flailing onto her own knees, reaching out to him before he stopped her, his voice snarky and full of bite,

“Don’t you have anything better to do than pester me!?” He asked her, watching as her face immediately shifted into surprise, then downheartedness.

“I’m sorry,” She said with a halfhearted smile, slowly standing before she took a step back,

“I didn’t mean to bother you so much,” She said earnestly, having wanted to show him gratitude with her little acts, not having taken into account that until then, he’d been happy being on his own.

“- I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” She told him, “And I wanted to find a way to thank you,” She admitted, “ I’m sorry, I should have known. After all, your work is very important to you. "

" So, I’ll make sure to stay out of your way from now on,” She promised him before she traced her steps back, soon finding her way back to the door just as he finally composed himself.

"Again...I'm sorry Rohan," She said while giving him one last short live glance.

By then the man sat back on his usual seat, his eyes tightly closed as he knit his brows together in a show of frustration the woman had caught sight of before she left.

‘ - I suppose I had it coming,’ She thought to herself as she released a soft, low-spirited sigh, her eyes gazing up at the ceiling while she stood outside of the quiet room the male currently occupied.

‘I have been bothering him far too much.’ She mused with the same downheartedness, yet understanding his exasperation.

‘But I don’t know anyone or anything, but him.’ She added with a slight grimace, knowing that her neediness to please him came from a clingy part of her that had attached itself to him.

It’d been three weeks since she first woke, finding herself just outside his home, eyeing the world that surrounded her with distraught, because she remembered nothing from a few moments ago. The only thing she had to go by was what she caught sight of, and it was unsettling.

During then Rohan eyed the strange, unsuspecting woman with narrowed eyes, activating his stand with haste, not taking any chances on the trespasser, and putting his stand to work in order to find out everything he needed about her.

“Now...you little trespasser, let’s read your manuscript,” He muttered deviously, a little satisfied curl to his lips lasting only half a second before his expression morphed into one of utter surprise.

To his chagrin, she was all empty pages, something he hadn’t known was possible.

He skimmed over every page, finding everything he gazed at to be unwritten white, from start to finish.

“Impossible…” He murmured, a hand circling her wrist, the other holding the back of her head as he looked down at her slumped form while inspecting her,

“There’s nothing to read,” He said aloud, his eyes growing even more as he saw her begin to stir, her (e/c) colored eyes staring up at him with surprise, and at that, his breath hitched, the involuntary halt in breath covered up by a forced cough.

“Where am I?” She asked him with saddened (e/c) colored drops, and he swore there were unshed tears within the glimmering orbs,

“Who… Who are you?” She wondered aloud, not knowing who the man was.

“- Who am I?” She proceeded to ask, and during then he had no answer, nothing he could offer her that could give her comfort beside a look of pity and confusion.

It became easy for him to offer her solace, his curiosity being all the reason he had to let her stay,

‘Strange girl...You’re an empty book, and yet, I’m curious to skim my eyes over you, again and again, to try and find something new,’ He mused, for a strange reason drawn to her, like the opposite ends of two magnets.

His left hand trailed over to grab his cup when he felt nothing but air, the empty space bringing an immediate frown onto his features,

"Hmm..."

He craned his head back, looking behind him to see the (h/c) haired woman gone.

It had become normal to have her come around, carrying In something for him he'd end up drinking or eating later along the day as he worked, so naturally, he expected her there.

“ she hasn’t shown up since this morning,” he told himself, knowing that the last he saw of her was during the early hours of the day.

" Strange," he muttered, tapping his finger onto the desk’s surface while pressing his lips together, his turquoise eyes glued to the doorway, waiting for her to walk through.

He could feel his mouth water, lingers of sweetness present as he craved another snack, and very faintly, his stomach rumbled.

“That damned girl…” he muttered to himself.

‘She’s conditioned me to such a thing,’ He thought dryly, ‘And now, she’s nowhere to be found,’ He added with the same dull inner tone.

Again, his pen fell, and his finger tapped into the desk as he waited, soon growing annoyed as the time progressed.

“Alright,” he said aloud, having waited long enough.

“She stops all my progress, and now I have to go in search of her,” he added whilst rolling his eyes, looking up at the ceiling with annoyance,

“But….I suppose a break is in order,” He decided while slumping his shoulders, hanging his head. "So, it's not in bad timing."

He moved past his own bedroom, soon coming face to face with hers, finding it shut.

His knuckles then lightly tapped her room’s door before he addressed her, “(F/n).” he said firmly, receiving no answer in return, the very fact irking him furthermore.

“let me guess, “ He then muttered, “You’re angry at me, aren't you?” He asked her as he leaned on the door, his back pressed to it as he spoke.

“You’re angry at me, and now you give me the silent treatment,” he theorized.

“And the only thing that will draw you out is a heartfelt apology from me, right?” He went on, shaking his head at the thought.

‘I don’t have anything to apologize for though, so what do you expect from me?

Some, false, conjured up plea that will only stroke your ego...that’s all I can imagine,’ He went on.

The silence ensued and he tapped his knuckles against the door yet again, doing so more firmly,

‘Just who does she think she is?’ he wondered with annoyance.

“Hey! Come out here already!” He said with the same huff, " I'm in no mood for games!” He exclaimed, receiving no answer back.

‘If it’s a battle of wills, then I’ll be sure to come on top,’ He thought to himself, soon drawing back,

“Alright then, have it your way. If that’s what you want, you can stay in there all day long. I don’t mind one bit!” He said while glaring at the door, crossing his arms before gritting his teeth.

He lasted a total of 10 minutes in the same position before he shook his head, his hand tightened around the knob of the door, deciding that if it wasn't locked he'd make his way in, and if not, he'd leave her to come out on her own.

‘This, in no way means that I cave first,’ He assured himself, ‘ Only that...I...I ca...

- No, It means that you can’t have your way you stubborn girl,’ he went on.

The door opened, and as such he was ready to give her a mouthful before his face fell, soon finding the room vacant,

“Oh...You’re not here…” He said softly, soon falling silent.

‘Don’t tell me you really take it to heart?’ He wondered, sitting down on her bed, thinking back to the last bit of words she offered him,

“ I’m sorry, I’ll make sure to stay out of your way from now on,” She promised him, and he could see how much her face had fallen, the downhearted expression making him swallow down bitterness before he turned his sights from her.

“Again, I'm sorry Rohan," she added before she left the room, the waver in her voice almost impossible to look over.

“You frustrate me sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I want you gone,” He muttered lowly, only imagining she took everything as a sign that he didn’t want her around at all.

His hands then fisted, shaking as he stood rigidly still, thinking about the possibility of her simply running away, taking it all in the only way he could,

“And so now what..?” He said airily, his head hanging low as he uttered the words, “Do you expect me to go out?” He said while lifting up his chin, his eyes hardened,

“ …To run after you?” He said out loud. “Perhaps chase you down? Beg on my knees even?” He said as his voice grew louder, practically yelling,

“ Ha!

I, Rohan Kishibe Beg?” He wondered out loud, by then sounding deranged,

“You annoy the hell out of me!” He said while roaring out the words,

“At least now I can get some peace alone!” He called out, shutting his mouth immediately after.

His bottom lip then caught between the sharp edges of his two rows of teeth as he clamped down on it, because far, deep from within, he regretted the fact that the words that left him.

His mansion was still and quiet, the only sound he could hear being the echo of his own voice that sounded ugly and monstrous to him.

“ I'm in no mood to play (f/n)!” He yelled, again, his mouth ran, sounding vexed, and yet, his heart ran with anxiousness. “If you’re hiding then just come out now!”

“Thank you,” She breathed, almost on the very of tears, her face that brimmed with emotion, hiding close to him as she unsuspectedly clung to him, her arms wrapping around him dearly,

“Thank you so much, “ She breathed, her voice shaky before she released a sweet giggle, the small bit of sweet joy slipping through her misery.

Standing still, he stared down at the strange woman, instantly stunned by the sweet smile that greeted him as she looked up at him, it being the first of many that were to come.

She was always quick to smile at him, offering him the kind expression even during dour moments, something he’d silently appreciated because while he didn’t say it, it didn’t mean he didn’t feel it.

Her sweet, smiling face was there as he closed his eyes, and during then, he felt his fastened heart abruptly stop, the world around him going cold and desolate,

‘There’s a damn killer on the loose,’ he thought to himself,

“ He’s somewhere out there,” he said aloud before the following breath he withdrew held a tremor,

“ And If you’re out there you little, annoying brat…” he muttered darkly, trailing off as he swallowed hard, trying his best to not think about the possibility.

His long legs launched him into a hard sprint, willing to look through every crack of Miroh to find her, because, truth be told,

' You may be annoying, but I'd rather have you annoying me the rest of my life than never seeing you again!'

171 notes · View notes

writeforfandoms · 3 years ago

Text

Merry Go Round of Life 7

Find my masterlist

Here we are. Chapter 7. Stuff is happening, we’re getting to see more of plotty stuff. We’re still nowhere near the end, I have Plans still, but!

This will be Din Djarin x f!reader eventually. Don’t hold your breath folks, this one’s a slow burn. Sort of.

Warnings: Some mild violence. Some magic.

Taglist: @tibbietibbs @fandom-blackhole @pedrocentric @shoopidly @sarahjkl82-blog @cannedsoupsucks @zinzinina @beskarprincessjenny

In which there is some adventuring

“Now?” you asked, surprised. It wasn’t late, there was still sunlight out, but it wasn’t going to be light for much longer.

“Now,” Djarin confirmed, sweeping over to his work area and starting to gather things up.

A bit perplexed, you picked up the kid and shrugged at Peli. Well, if the wizard said so, it looked like you were going with him. He wouldn’t take the kid anywhere dangerous, which likely meant that, by extension, you’d be fine.

Djarin nodded when you walked back over to him, and he opened the door again and ushered you out first. You stepped down into the sand, taking a moment to adjust. It was slippery under your feet, softer than you were used to feeling. It was a very curious feeling, but not altogether unpleasant.

“I’m Cobb Vanth,” the silver-haired man said, holding out a hand to you. You took it after a moment of juggling the child to your other side, giving him your name in turn.

“Which way?” Djarin asked before you and Vanth could talk further.

“It’s not too far,” Vanth said, jerking his head and starting to walk. You kept pace with the two men, although you had the feeling they were taking pity on you and walking slower than they otherwise would. Well, that suited you fine. You could only hobble so fast.

“You say you found this crystal near your town?” Djarin asked as he walked.

“‘S right,” Vanth agreed. ��There’s a deposit of ‘em. Too close to the creature, now. Can’t get close without getting trampled. Once the creature’s gone, you’re welcome to as many of ‘em as you want.”

Djarin hummed quietly at that and then fell silent. Vanth looked at you, and you shrugged and continued walking. It was a bit harder to walk in the sand than you were used to, and before long Djarin reached over and took the kid from you. You rather wished you’d grabbed your trusty walking stick before you’d left. Vanth offered you his arm, which you took with a grateful murmur.

“Not much farther,” Vanth told both of you as the sun slid towards the horizon. “We’ll be there before full dark.”

Well, that wasn’t as reassuring as he thought it was. You huffed but soldiered on, grateful for the assistance.

Finally, the village wavered on the edge of your vision, slipping in and out of sight for a while. It was quite curious, but you didn’t quite dare to ask Djarin or Vanth about the illusion effect. It also occurred to you that your eyes were possibly just acting their current age. (Another thing to wallop the Witch for.)

And then all at once you were just outside the village. Only a few people were still out and about, but you could see lights flickering in the huts.

“C’mon,” Vanth murmured to the two of you. “My place is this way. You can stay the night and start out first thing.”

Djarin started to protest but Vanth still had you firmly in his grasp, and he led you away. You heard Djarin sigh behind you and then start after you, and you smiled a little.

“It’s very kind of you to let us stay,” you murmured to Vanth.

“Oh it’s no trouble, ma’am,” he replied with a grin. “I like havin’ visitors over.” He shot you a wink, and you half-hid your chuckle behind a hand. “How’d you end up working for the wizard, anyway?”

“It’s a long story,” you deflected, waving a hand airily. “I’m sure a youngster like yourself wouldn’t be interested in anything so dull.”

"Indulge me?" Vanth asked, giving you his undivided attention.

You hesitated and then started crafting a somewhat vaguely truthful account. "I'm from Kalevala," you said, starting out speaking slowly. "I decided that I wanted to see more of the world, so I left home. I found the castle as I was walking and let myself in."

Vanth choked briefly on air as he opened the front door for you. "You let yourself in? Ma'am, you are far braver than I."

You waved off his compliment. "That's when I met the child. And, well, I have experience with my niece, you know. So I offered my services to the wizard."

"Offered?" Djarin drawled from behind you, very nearly giving you a heart attack.

You made a face at the wizard. He wasn't exactly wrong.

"Well, that's quite a story," Vanth said, looking between the two of you like he wasn't sure he'd gotten the whole story. Good instincts on this one. "Have y'all eaten? I can whip somethin' up for you."

"No, thank you," Djarin answered. He handed the kid back to you, and you cradled the little one easily.

Vanth nodded after a moment. "Make yourselves at home," he offered, waving at the space. He kicked his boots off and padded further inside.

You exchanged looks with Djarin, shrugged, and carefully toed your own shoes off. You were going to poke around (just a little), but Djarin expertly herded you to the couch.

"Let the kid sleep," was all the explanation he offered. You huffed but gave in, settling there for the moment.

Honestly, it wasn't as awkward as you would have feared. Not to mention the walk had worn you out more than you'd anticipated. By the time it was fully dark, you'd fallen asleep on the couch. You roused only briefly when Djarin encouraged you to lay down flat, the kid sprawled across your torso, and then you were out again.

Gentle nudges roused you in the morning, and you blinked your eyes open, bleary and a bit irritated.

"We're going now," Djarin murmured to you. He was crouched next to the couch, in his usual armor.

"Hmm?" You blinked at him, lifting one hand to rub crust out of your eyes.

"Vanth is showing me where the creature lives," Djarin reminded you patiently.

You grumbled something unintelligible at him. Djarin chuckled and stood.

"Go back to sleep," he told you. "I'll be back soon."

You lifted your head to watch him leave. Vanth nodded to you and shut the door after the two of them. Your head hit the pillow again and you were out.

You woke again later to little hands patting your cheeks, and you smiled without opening your eyes.

"Good morning," you murmured to the kid, who burbled happily at you. You cleared your eyes carefully and looked at the kid. "Hungry?"

The kid cooed, and you got up carefully. You weren't as sore or stiff as you thought you would be, which was nice. It didn't take long to find a little something for the kid to eat, but you both grew bored quickly.

"Shall we take a look around?" You asked the kid. He blinked up at you, and you carried him outside. You didn't plan to go far, you just wanted to look around. Stave off some boredom waiting for Djarin to return.

The village was small. You might even use quaint, if asked. It was a handful of huts and other buildings, with one general store and a few other odds and ends. Sand stretched out in all directions from the village, but you could see some greenery. Likely the crops Vanth had mentioned before.

You wandered over closer to look. In the clear light of day, the footprints you could see looked… large. Just a little worrisome.

"Well, whatever did this clearly wasn't happy," you murmured to the child, crouching down to get a better look at the crops and the footprints. "Look at the size of these! Why, I would certainly like to flee from anything with feet so large."

The kid cooed his agreement of that, looking around with big eyes. He wiggled to be put down, and you set him on his feet. He promptly stuck one of his feet in the massive footprint with a quiet noise of awe. Then he stuck his other foot in. And then jumped up and down a few times for good measure before he turned to you with a toothy grin.

"Ah, I see. You vanquished the footprint. Well done, my little friend." You chuckled. "Let's see how the remaining crops fare, hmm?"

The answer to that was not well. They looked traumatized - smaller than they should be and not at all healthy looking.

"Well, this won't do," you tutted. "Straighten up there, plants! Yes, you've had a fright, but you can do better than this! People depend on you, you know. You'd better get in shape soon."

A villager passing nearby gave you a look that was equal parts scared and wary and hurried away.

"How's that for gratitude?" You grumbled as you stood up straight. You looked down, expecting to see the child agreeing with you, and found no child. It took you a few moments to locate him, during which you had a minor heart attack. He was busy toddling away from you as fast as his little legs could carry him, heading further into the desert. "Kid?"

He made a noise somewhere between distressed and angry, and you caught up to him quickly.

"Show me," you told the kid, picking him up. There was a sense of urgency about him that you couldn't ignore.

The kid pointed off towards the desert, and you took off at a brisk walk. You could still see evidence of the creature as you walked - half-erased footprints in the sand, a few dung heaps, a tuft of dark, matted fur. You could also see occasional footprints from Djarin and Vanth. Worry started to gnaw at your insides.

The ground started to slope downwards, and rocks started to accumulate. It wasn't long before you were looking at… not quite a mountain. A hill, certainly. With a lot of mud. Sandy mud. You could feel it squishing under your shoes.

You found Vanth first, crouched down behind some boulders. He hissed at you both, waving you over.

"What are you doin'?" He demanded. "It's not safe out here! The wizard said to stay out of it and stay here!"

You set your jaw stubbornly. "I'm going to check on him," you said, shaking your head. "I'll be careful."

"At least gimme the kid," Vanth tried.

"Where I go, he goes." You stepped around the boulders and started towards the muddy depression. You could see a cave opening yawning in front of you. It took you a moment to spot the creature, but only a moment. It was well away from you, head lowered, gigantic horn aimed at the wizard. Who was sprawled inelegantly on his back on the ground, covered in mud and muck.

The kid let out a cry, and you found yourself mirroring him. The great head swung towards you and the kid, and Vanth yelled a warning. The creature snorted and then charged.

The kid raised a hand, eyes closing in concentration, and you felt the air around the two of you humming and vibrating with energy. So you focused on the kid, well aware that whatever was happening, he was doing it.

“Good, kid,” you murmured encouragingly. “You can do it. I know you can. I can feel how much strength you have - you’re quite impressive, actually.”

The creature stopped advancing towards the two of you and slowly lifted up into the air, its feet still going. It bellowed, clearly confused.

“Good, very good. Hold it there,” you instructed the kid. “You’re doing an excellent job. Just hold it a little longer.”

Djarin had jumped to his feet at all the yelling, and stood staring (so far as you could tell) at the scene until Vanth yelled something. You couldn’t quite hear, honestly, too focused on the child in your arms and the scene unfolding in front of you. But Djarin pulled a knife from… somewhere, you honestly weren’t sure where, and ran up to the creature. One quick plunge and twist of the knife, and it was over. The creature dropped to the ground. The kid slumped in your arms.

And you abruptly found yourself sitting in the mud, dizzy and euphoric and so scared, staring up at the wizard before you.

#Merry go round of Life #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #howl's moving castle au

75 notes · View notes

goffilolo · 3 years ago

Text

Revival of Midoriya Izuku: Chapter 4 "My depression may be chronic, but my ass is iconic"

I bet you didn't think you were ever gonna see an update. well neither did I. What can I say? writing with a broken hand is a struggle.

Link to the fic on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929483/chapters/81090403

Izuku’s first day of high school was interesting, to say the least, or it would’ve been if he actually went to school instead of spreading mayhem amongst UA’s first years. Shinjuku Metropolitan has been rather lenient in regards to his attendance or lack of thereof, thanks to whatever bullshit Shin wrote to the school on his behalf to ensure that the faculty would accommodate his ‘condition’. Which is just fancy wording for ‘I got a get out of school card’. Truth be told, this is probably the best thing that the doctor has ever done for him since Izuku was nowhere near ready to return to mainstream education, not after everything that has happened in middle school. The last thing he needed were looks of pity and guilt-induced niceties from people who otherwise had no problem laughing at his misfortune.

So instead Izuku has decided to spend his time productively - if you could count tormenting your ex-childhood friend and having an accidental family reunion as such.

Uncle Shouta always had a bit of a mean streak to him, although it never really felt as such when Izuku himself interacted with him. From what little of his childhood he could remember that didn’t involve trauma and discrimination, his uncle was a somewhat kind, but grumpy man. He believed in a brand of tough love - that somehow did not correspond with the way his mother raised him in the slightest and went above and beyond for things and people he held close to his heart. Sure they haven’t seen each other since Izuku was 4, but if his uncle’s empty threats from today’s Quirk Apprehension Test are anything to go by, not much has changed.

Which brings him back to now; sitting in an empty classroom that he does not belong to - a school that he does not belong to, writing down his ever-so-detailed notes about the quirks he will only be able to admire from afar. Not much has changed , indeed.

It almost feels like a betrayal. Almost , being the operative word, because he has no reason to cling onto the things that he no longer cares about - should no longer care about, for they had died along with him that day on the roof, and were properly buried within the four walls that Izuku called his own during his stay in the hospital.

But well...looks like today Izuku is in a mood to dig up old corpses.

Metaphorically, that is.

“God, you’re still here!”

“Kacchan we’ve talked about this” he replied, rather dramatically “God is dead and all that’s left is me”

Kacchan clearly did not appreciate his superior sense of humour, if the lack of response is anything to go by. “No seriously, why are you still here?”

“I could ask you the same”

“I actually study here you fuckwit!” the blond exclaimed in his ever explosive fashion “Besides I had to come back and get my change of clothes since that demonic pet of yours was sitting on them when we were all leaving for the test”

“Huh, that actually reminds me...where’s Bandit?”

“Oi, don’t change the subject you shitty Deku” replied Bakugou, as he kicked one of the chairs over towards the desk that was currently occupied by Izuku and slumped down in it in a way that would perhaps appear as non-caring to absolutely no one “I didn’t know your uncle was a pro-hero.”

Ah, so that’s what he was bothered about.

“That makes the two of us”

“Wait, really?!”

“Honestly Kacchan! Did you really think that IF I knew my uncle was a pro-hero that I would be able to ever shut up about it?”

“No way in hell!”

“Exactly!”

Well, now that the topic of his uncle has been cleared up, there wasn’t much else to talk about, at least not much that wouldn’t result in collateral damage or a Bakugou shitshow 2.0. Both of the boys were well aware of it of course, but let it never be said that either of them could be stopped by things like common sense, especially when it came to avoiding conversational land mines.

“So...what are you scribbling over here?” asked Bakugou in a rather poor and possibly the most awkward attempt at establishing small talk that has ever been known to man and sheep kind alike.

“Ok, no! That is not happening” snapped Izuku, who very much saw where this was going and was having none of it “We are NOT having a civil conversation!”

“Why the fuck not?!” replied the blond, his anger as booming and apparent as his quirk.

“Because that is not something we DO Kacchan!” shouted the teen, banging his hands against the desk, his notebook long forgotten.

“Well, maybe we should?!” exclaimed Bakugou, who was quick to anger, yet quicker to notice his ex-friend’s unusual mood as he tried to make an effort to de-escalate the situation.

“Oh? Should we really? !” sneered Izuku, feeling the kind of anger and disdain he hasn’t felt in a long time, not since that fateful day in the ward.

“That’s rich coming from you” he continued as he stood up form the chair, unable to keep still in his fury as he circled the classroom “All you ever did was shout at me, insult me and throw baseless accusations at me left and right for god knows how long, but suddenly YOU want to have a conversation with me? Isn’t it enough that we kinda talked about our feelings that one time when I was still stuck in the psych ward?!”

Honestly, what do you expect Kacchan?” asked Izuku, feeling raw and hysteric and all kinds of wrong, spilling his metaphorical guts to his ex-bully/friend “That we will just start having normal conversations like nothing ever happened, act like we’re friends or some shit? Because let’s be honest, we haven’t been friends for a very long time, that ship has sunk long before I even attempted suicide! ”

“Don’t you think I know that?!” screamed Bakugou, feeling equally angry, but mostly out of his depth in the situation. He expected Deku to possibly mock him for his awkward attempts at small talk. What the blond didn’t expect was for him to snap, in a way that was somewhat familiar but not quite, as even the few times they’ve spoken back when Izuku was in the hospital or when he got released, his tempter felt controlled in a way it was not at the moment. Katsuki wasn’t sure what exactly triggered such a strong response, but he was not looking forward to having another fight, at least not one initiated by him.

“I’m not trying to pretend it didn’t happen” he explained “I just want to move forward. I’m not the same asshole I was last year and neither are you, so I don’t want to be stuck on how things used to be ! It makes me feel like I’m going nowhere.”

“Ok! Fine! You wanna talk?! Then let me fuckin TELL you something! You asked me what I was ‘scribbling’ over here?” exclaims Izuku, as he stomps his way back towards the desk and snatches his notebook, waving it aggressively in front of Bakugou “IT’S THE SAME STUFF I’VE BEEN SCRIBBLING THE ENTIRE GODDAMN TIME!” he screamed “Those quirk analysis notebooks you used to mock me for? It’s another one of those because as it turns out I still AM the same asshole I was last year! Now then, can YOU tell ME how many of those I’ve had?”

“Thirteen…” mutters Bakugou, feeling like he’s walking into a proverbial trap.

“Good boy, you can count! Now, can you tell me what number does it say on this one?” sneers Izuku sarcastically as he points once again at the notebook in question.

“Is this a trick question? There’s fuckin nothing on it”

“EXACTLY! And you want to know why?” screamed the distressed teen, no longer feeling angry, but tired and vulnerable, unable to stop himself from having a conversation he didn’t even want to be a part of “Because these notes used to serve a purpose, a purpose I no longer have. Hero Analysis for the Future , to be exact. But guess what Kacchan…” he whispered, no longer looking at the red eyes that used to bring him so much pain “...I no longer have a future…”

The blond hung his head in shame as he listened to his childhood friend break down in tears while hiding his face behind the very notebook that started their argument, all the while Trash Bandit who woke up due to their screaming was trying to get his owner’s attention with pathetically quiet ‘baaah’s.

“You have the right to be angry with me, after all this shit I put you through” stated Bakugou after what felt like an endless silence broken only by Izuku’s stuttering sobs. He never thought of himself as a coward, but at this moment he could not find enough bravery to sit face to face with the crying teen.

“I KNOW that you shithead-” replied Izuku as he shakily tried to take a breath in between the sobs “-but what good is that gonna do?! You’ve actually admitted that the way you treated me was wrong, hell you even voluntarily went to therapy! You’re basically going through a whole-ass redemption arc and what do I do? * sob * I’m still stuck in the past and I can’t let go of my grudges, which isn’t doing me or you any favours. I’ve told you to get your shit together, and this is exactly what you’re trying to do and instead of being h-* hic *- happy for you I’m mad-”

His rant broke off as he took another breath with tears still rolling down the freckled cheeks despite the boy’s best efforts. Izuku slumped down in his seat and with shaking hands he took out a cigarette and lighter from his backpack that was still hanging by the hook on the side of the desk. And although putting the cigarette in his mouth was relatively easy, lighting it was another matter. As Izuku grew more frustrated with the quiver in his hands, so did Bakugou. The blond became impatient as he grumbled “give it here damn it” much more quietly and gently than he normally would’ve done as he leaned forward, all the while grabbing the other teen by his shoulder with one hand, as he used to the other to quickly light the cigarette with a small explosion. Izuku’s flinch at the sudden but familiar noise and heat did not go unnoticed.

To say that Izuku was shocked by his ex-friend’s action would’ve been an understatement, but he was pleased nonetheless. If anything it proved his point that Kacchan was trying to be nicer to him, even if the attempts were somewhat awkward. The freckled teen, feeling only marginally better, leaned back in his chair facing the ceiling as he continued to blow circles of smoke up into the air, trying to regain his original train of thought.

“You’d think they would have a fire alarm in here or something” mused Bakugou as he stared at the disappearing circles.

“Hmm” replied Izuku, absentmindedly “You’d think”

The silence has once again stretched between the 2 boys, although this time it felt less oppressive in its need to be filled. Bakugou was happy to wait for Deku to finish what he started, it was the least the blond could do seeing as he was at fault for the current state of things between them.

“I’m so fuckin angry...” stated Izuku as he crashed the burnt out cigarette against the desk, which Bakugou conviniently ignored seeing as the desk was his. “I’m so fuckin angry-” he repeated despite his tone and words not matching at all “-because this proves that you could’ve gotten your shit together this whole time” he continues while gesturing vaguely between the two of them.

“You could’ve stopped this bullshit and apologised to me!” exclaims Izuku in a tone that is half resigned and half accusing “You could’ve spared me the misery, and yet you didn’t. I feel like I’ve suffered for nothing-”

“You did!” interrupted the blond.

“What?”

“You’ve suffered for nothing” clarified Bakugou “There’s literally NO good reason for you to have gone through even half the shit you did”

“I dunno about that Kacchan” teased Izuku “I’m pretty sure the reason is sitting right in front of me”

“I said no good reason damn it, don’t go around twisting my words you fuckin Deku!”

And Izuku couldn’t help but break out in laughter, because he was pretty sure that this was the first time ever that Bakugou had made a joke at his own expense and this moment was going to live in his brain rent free from now on.

“Oh God, Kacchan-” he wheezed, trying to stop himself from laughing “You were right, you really aren't the same asshole that you were last year!”

“I sure fuckin hope not” replied Bakgou who was just as close to laughing “Otherwise I would’ve had to demand refund for all of those shitty therapy sessions”

“Look at us Kacchan” said Izuku, his laugh now subdued “We’re still a fuckin mess”

“I guess we are” agreed the blond as he stared down at his friend’s notebook in a thoughtful expression.

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

After the truthfully embarrassing heart-to-heart with Kacchan, Izuku wanted to do nothing more than sink into the void for the next eternity, or at least until he gets his reminder text that he’s running late for yet another therapy session. Unfortunately neither of these options were viable seeing as he was on a self-appointed mission to catch up to his uncle. The boy hoped that uncle Shouta would still be somewhere on the premises seeing as his ugly-ass sleeping bag was still in the classroom. Izuku used that to his advantage as he gave the sleeping bag to Bandit who promptly sniffed it and began to follow the scent of a premature-midlife-crisis. Who knew that sheep could make such good hounds?

Bandit had dutifully led their owner through an ever inconvenient maze of corridors, which eventually ended with the two entering the teacher’s lounge like they had every right to be there (which they kinda did, shoutout to Nedzu!). As expected, Izuku’s uncle was in the lounge, surrounded by fellow members of staff as they tried (unsuccessfully, at least by Izuku’s standards) to get any information out of him regarding his class this year. Uncle Shouta for the most part looked like he’d rather be doing anything else and so Izuku has made an executive decision to insert himself obnoxiously into the situation.

“In my humble opinion-” he said, as he sat down next to his uncle, while Bandit jumped up on his lap “that Mineta kid should’ve been expelled. Like, we get it uncle, he has potential ” continued Izuku, as he spat the word distastefully “But how far is that potential gonna get him when all he does is harass the entire female population, like every other mediocre straight guy with self awareness of a sea cucumber?”

“A sea cucumber? Really?” asked uncle Shouta, sounding like the unimpressed bitch that he is.

“I mean don’t get me wrong” he continues, completely ignoring the unnecessary commentary “Straight people are already embarrassing as they are, but this guy is on another level, the kinda level that usually leads to a straight jacket, am I right?! Hah- I just made a pun!”

“The little listener does have a point, Shouta” replied Present Mic.

“Also, did he just say uncle ? Shouta, is there anything you’d like to tell us?” asked Midnight, you know, like a traitor.

“No”

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

It wasn’t until they walked past the gates of the school that his uncle finally stopped in his tracks to voice at least a portion of the questions that have been bubbling in his mind since the impromptu family reunion with his nephew.

“Izuku” says Shouta, with as much concern as an uncle-who-you-haven’t-seen-in-almost-a-decade is allowed to voice “What the fuck?”

“Look, I heard that question far too often in my lifetime, mostly from my therapist, so you’re gonna have to be a bit more specific” replies Izuku sounding like the unimpressed bitch that he hopes to evolve into through the sheer power of genetics and generational trauma.

“Look kid-” says the hobo looking man that has the privilege of being related to Izuku as he puts his hands together, takes a deep breath and prays to whichever God he believes is not yet dead for some guidance on how to handle this “-as much as I’d love to elaborate on the sheer amount of confusion I am experiencing right now due to your questionable way of life, I do actually have to go on a patrol so this conversation is gonna have to be postponed. In the meanwhile give your mother my regards, and I’ll hopefully see you in the near future when you decide once again to wreak havoc in my classroom.”

“No” replies the freckled teen in a total disregard for other people’s prior engagements, thus truly earning his title of a problem child.

“What do you mean no ? Izuku, I have a job to do!”

Instead of replying, Izuku has decided to simply pull a pro-gamer move, by quickly taking out a familiar pair of handcuffs from the side pocket of his backpack, cuffing one side to his uncle’s hand and the other to his own. That on its own is probably not particularly impressive, however it is the speed of the action that has earned it the title of a pro-gamer move, which Izuku is quite proud of. His uncle on the other hand is definitely less so, looking at his cuffed wrist like it has somewhat betrayed him.

“Please tell me you did not just do that”

“I did not just do that”

After wasting about 10 minutes of his life on fruitless struggle of trying to get the handcuffs off like an untrained dog trying to chew off its own leash, Aizawa Shouta; the underground hero Eraserhead, the infamous Erasure Hero has slumped in defeat, internally swearing to himself to one day get revenge on his unruly nephew.

“God, I am so going to have a talk with my sister about this” he says, as if a threat of authority had any meaning to the green headed teen.

“Yeah, no shit, that’s the whole point, we’re going to my house now” replies the teen, completely disregarding any attempt at ‘ an adult asserting their authority ’ over him.

“I still have to go on a patrol tonight” repeats Shouta, as if it was somewhat relevant.

“That sounds like a you problem”

#demise!au #bnha #revival of midoriya izuku #fanfic

41 notes · View notes

yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago

Note

Is it OK if I request some Yan!Dabi? I reaaally miss him 😭 Perhaps in a situation where he's feeling touch-starved? I need cuddles from my fav fire boii. Thank you in advance!

I generally try to avoid content that seems so soft, but if there’s anything I jump at, it’s the chance to reinforce the idea that Dabi is, secretly, an emotionally unstable man who probably wouldn’t be able to tell kindness apart from human decency. It’s a character flaw we love to see.

Title: Wants and Needs.

TW: Kidnapping, Stalking, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Burning, Emotional Manipulation, Slight Dehumanization, and Mentions of Death.

It felt like Dabi needed to watch you, sometimes.

Well, ‘watching’ might’ve been the wrong word of it. He used to watch you, really watch you. He’d stand outside your apartment complex for hours at a time, scanning the side of the building for your window or just lurking near the doors, waiting, stalking. He would watch you from the other side of a bar, an untouched drink in one hand and the other tapping nervous rhythms into the wooden countertop, a group of his more noticeable friends often loitering somewhere in the background. You knew what it felt like to be watched, you knew what he looked like when he was trying to watch you, and you knew he didn’t have a reason to, not anymore. He hadn’t since he locked you up in this filthy apartment, since he fixed you into place, since he cut off your head and mounted it on the wall just so he’d be able to glance at his trophy and admire himself once or twice a day. Sometimes less, if he was distracted. Sometimes more, if he was feeling cruel.

Staring felt primal. Staring felt hot, alighting your skin with the kind of itching, paranoid fire prey must’ve felt when it discovered it wasn’t really a predator.

This was barely lukewarm, in comparison.

He was doing it again, for the second time today, the seventh time this week. You tried not to pay him any mind, not to return his prying gaze, but it was hard to stay focused on the book in your hands while he was in the doorway, one shoulder slumped against the frame and his fists shoved in his pockets, his eyes half-lidded but unblinking, all the same. He didn’t seem to dislike silence, but he hated it when you said something he didn’t want to hear, a lesson the scarred skin plated over your chest could testify to. It was hard to tell what might set him off, and you tried to avoid topics that didn’t suit the domestic fantasy he’d carved out for himself, but your room was small, more of a closet with a bed shoved into the corner. Unless you wanted to pull the sheets over your head and act like a child attempting to block out the darkness, there was nowhere you could go that his stare wouldn’t follow. Confrontation wasn’t the wisest route, but he had a way of whittling down your options, like that. The worst path was often the only path, when Dabi was around.

Still, you tried to keep things simple, keep your tone neutral and your attention centered on the page you were open to, even if you hadn’t read a word since he made his first appearance. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” His response came quickly, defensively. As if he was the one with a collar around his neck and a chain keeping him linked to the nearest wall. “Obviously, nothing’s wrong. Did I say anything was wrong?”

He hadn’t said anything. He never said anything, not on his own, not after he fell into one of his moods. You couldn’t expect anything else, though, not from the man that’d spoken his first words to you while forcing a needle-full of something clear and dizzying into your jugular vein. “You seem tense,” You mumbled, trying to resist the temptation to sink into the barred headboard. “You get… kill-y, when you’re tense. I’m allowed to worry when you start to look like you’re plotting my death.”

“I’ve never killed you,” He scoffed, thinking for a moment before shaking his head, straightening his posture before he went on. “If anything, I should be the one doling out the questions. I’ve been taking care of you, I’ve been spoiling you, and you still act like I’m going to rip your heart out the minute I get close to you.” He was getting aggressive, now, but it was far from the bright, sadistic glee he usually wore while searching for an excuse to fill your lungs with smoke and coat you in your own blood. No, this was something darker, something duller, more of a tantrum than anything, a fit that was more likely to end in a few harsh names and a forgotten meal than real violence. That didn’t mean he was any less volatile as he went on, though. “I didn’t bring you here just to watch you start shaking every time I put my hands you. I don’t want to scare you. I don’t want to be the bad guy in my own fucking relationship. I don’t want--”

“What do you want?”

Immediately, Dabi fell silent, going rigid as soon as you cut off his rant. But, if he was really trying to act as altruistic as he claimed to be, you couldn’t be punished just for talking back. Your fists were balling at the bedsheets before you could stop to yourself, your book closed, thrown to the side and your stance just as offensive as Dabi’s, even if all you could do was sit up and lean forward, considering just how short he’d chosen to make your restraints, your tether, your leash. That’s what it was, really - you were on a leash, made into a glorified pet, one that refused to lick its master’s cheek, even after he made such an effort to bring it home and lock it in a cage. Honestly, he should just be glad you didn’t choose to bite, instead. “You kidnapped me, I’m a captive. I don’t have to prance around and just to keep you entertained just because you’re nice enough to make sure I don’t starve to death. How am I supposed to know what you want? It’s not like you’ve ever tried to tell to me.” It was your turn to roll your eyes, your turn to cross your arms and huff. “For all I know, this could just be some prolonged, creative torture session to see which one of us can make the other more miserable before you snap and decide to smother me in my sleep.”

Dabi didn’t speak, but he took a step forward, his passive scowl pulled into a snarl.

Instantly, you remembered why you’d made an effort to hold your tongue, before.

You opened your mouth, a dozen different apologies already playing over in your mind, but by the time you could think about vocalizing something small and pathetic enough to earn his forgiveness, lithe fingers were already slipping under your collar, dragging you forward despite your attempts to hide yourself away. You could practically feel the blow before it came, hot and searing and unbearable and...

And gentle.

The hit never came. As abruptly as his aggression had manifested, it dissipated, dissolving into thin air as an arm wrapped around your waist, then another, your chest soon pulled flush against his and his face quickly buried in your shoulder, his body falling onto the mattress like dead-weight, taking yours along with it. His touch was still warm, his calloused palms still smoldering against your lower back, but it didn’t hurt, didn’t bring tears to your eyes, didn’t maim. You didn’t relax, but you were stunned into lifelessness, and that seemed to be enough for Dabi. He let out a heavy, ragged exhale, pulling you closer in the space between one breath and the next. “I just…” He started, only to trail off, his lips pressing into a stern, sealed line against the dip of your shoulder. “I don’t know what I want. I just know I don’t want you to hate me.”

Any other time, you might’ve called him out. You hated him, you had to hate him, and he had to know that, even if he tried not to acknowledge it. You moved to push him away, to free yourself from his vice-grip, but something stopped you. A hitched breath, a scalding dampness against your skin. An inaudible, almost unnoticeable attempt to speak, only for his thoughts to be swallowed down with something that sounded eerily similar to a cracked sob, or… the closest Dabi could come to one of those, at least.

Your hands settled in his hair, instead, carding through the ash-stained mess, encouraging him to lean ino you, rather than back away. You still didn’t like him, and no amount of tears would earn him your pity, but…

He wasn’t looking at you. He couldn’t, when he was like this.

That’d have to be enough, for now.

635 notes · View notes

imayjinmin · 3 years ago

Text

Dazed Ⅱ

Vampire prince Enhypen x Shadow fairy princess reader

Word count: 2.2k

Playlist here

Synopsis: Shadowfen was a normally a peaceful place consisting of shadow fairies. The city was beautiful beyond belief until Grimmingthorn invaded. Vampires now overpopulated the city. Both of the Queens being pregnant they decided on a deal of which they live together. Making the new fairy princess and vampire kings grow together. Leading with a lot of obstacles on the way of childhood.

Warnings: Angst, trauma, manipulative themes mentioned, PTSD

Waking up, he was surprised to see two guards at his door. Coming fully to, he sprung up to his feet. “Where’s Y/n?!” The two guards continued staring forward without a sound. “Answer me!” Still not receiving a reply he shoved at the guards. Grabbing his shoulders the two guards finally looked at him.

“This is for your protection. There is a hunter in the castle. The queen gave us demands to not allow you to leave.”

“I don’t care what mother wants! I want to know where Y/n is! Is she okay?! Tell me!” Shoving him lightly, the guard scowled at him.

“We are not allowed to answer that. Go sit down kid. Also do you really believe she would be alive after that?”

“She has to be alive! She wouldn’t leave me alone.” Dropping to his knees he started bawling. “Please just tell me. I won’t tell mother anything. I just need to know if she’s okay.”

Laughing amongst themselves the two watched him. “Fine you want to know...”

“Please...”

“She’s dead.”

Feeling his world crumble and start to collapse from under him, he stopped everything. Figuring he does not have a purpose anymore if she was not alive. Standing to his feet, the two froze. Confused as they watched him pace to his bed and sit down.

“Are you okay kid?”

“I’m fine, at least now I can be who I truly am.”

“Huh? Do you understand him?”

“Not really. I thought he loved her.”

“Me too. Kid, why are you so calm?”

“She wouldn’t allow me to do what I want. Didn’t want me to hurt anything. I’m free to do whatever now.” Still watching him walk over to his desk tensed. Opening the drawer, pulling out his family heirloom he was gifted. “Mother always said I was to use this when I felt it was threatened. She would understand when I tell her the guards hurt me.”

“Kid put that down. It is not to be played wi-” His words were cut short as his blood hit Heeseung’s face.

“Listen kid, you don’t need to do this.”

“But I do.” Swinging the sword through the air once more as the other body hit the floor. Dropping to the ground as well, he started crying hysterically. Feeling his soul leave he passed out.

⨶⨶⨶

Ten years have passed as the seven princes were becoming young adults. The Shadowfens still wondering what happened to their soon to be princess. All that was known was that the same night she disappeared, a blood bath occurred in the kingdom. Told simply that a deranged hunter got inside the castle. Now with the princes ranging from fifteen to nineteen soon to be twenty years old many things have changed. Especially the oldest prince. He is known as the most heartless and ruthless being to exist. Fearing even simple eye-contact with him became normal. Fearing that he would murder anything that looked his way, no one dared to initiate with him. Having heard the rumors that he went on a killing spree that dreadful night in the kingdom. The many times someone was harmed by speaking his name was worrying. Even his own family stayed beware of his presence. He was always surrounded by his brothers who were just as ruthless as him. Getting the nickname the dreadful seven for many reasons. Grimmingthorns started to become weary of what would happen when the new King was crowned. Rightly so, as it was only three months away from the coronation. Still there was no new word on where the princess was. The poor queen was caught bawling on multiple occasions. The princes were asked if any of them could remember that night, but every time it was the same answer. ‘No, we were all in our rightful rooms’. Many thought the answer did not add up to the events that were previously told by their mother. Stated on numerous occasions, that there was a hunter, and the princes were scattered throughout the castle. She answered that she cannot remember once putting the seven princes in their rooms, but in fact keeping them out of them for safety. The more their stories collided the more people started to worry. If the princes and the queen were that easy to lie about the murder of a princess how easily would they lie about another. Many believed the oldest son, Heeseung preformed the act. Guards saying that on occasion he would become too protective of the princess. Some even saying he threatened them for being close to her. Hatred was thrown onto the four oldest princes Heeseung, Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon, while pity was thrown onto the youngest. Many felt bad for the three princes that grew up in a sad city because they were so young when the event occurred. None of them answered the questions when asked because they did not know. This affected them in Charter School, which is where a lot of questioning came along. Jungwon was known as the target of most issues. Being the smallest prince led to a lot of jokes, most being that he was going to be a joke of a prince. That was until she arrived. Walking by shoving her shoulder into one of them as she walked by. Going to find her only for her to already be gone. Jungwon wanted to thank her but could never find her. None of the seven could. When the story of her broke throughout the school many believed that she was an in-school bodyguard. Denying it to be true for the very reason that all of their guards were knights. A woman was not to be allowed the position of a knight. She would always appear when she was needed as if she was summoned. When Jay almost tripped down the stairs, she grabbed his shoulder telling him to watch his step before it even occurred. When Jake was attacked by a hunter, and she saved him. When Niki was down because of the training to become a prince, she lifted his chin high telling him to get back on his feet and that he was destined for greatness. The most shocking one was when Heeseung got shot by an arrow. Witnesses saying that she treated him with no hesitation muttering something about returning a favor. Some quoting the exact phrase, “This is returning the favor. Thank you, Hee.”. No one knew what it exactly meant, but many said his face dropped at her words. All color leaving his face when the syllables hit his ears. From that day forward nobody was able to find the mysterious woman. There was no trace of her ever, no footprint, no scent, no hair, nothing. She was conned the name pretty stranger. Known only for her pretty appearance and bravery. As time got closer and closer to coronation she appeared more frequently. Puzzled people that saw her started sketching he to hand out papers with her face, hoping someone knew something. Still nothing came up on the pretty stranger.

⨕⨕⨕

“Heeseung, have you gotten one of these papers yet?”

“No, wait what paper exactly?”

“The one with her on it. They are everywhere now.”

“Oh, yes. I got three of them yesterday. Why do you ask, Jay?”

“Well, who do you think she is? I mean you know everyone in this city. How could she come from nowhere without you knowing?”

“I don’t know how she did it. May I ask you a question, Jay?”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you remember what Y/n looked like? I know you were young, but something has to have stuck with you.”

“No, no, I remember her clearly. You don’t think?”

“I do.” Staring at Heeseung for a moment, before rapidly pulling a chair out beside him. Sitting down loudly, still staring at him with wide eyes.

“Why? How? How could that be her? I thought she died that night ten years ago?”

“So much is leading back to her. Her scent is familiar, practically the same. Her eyes, they hold so much in them. They pierce into you in a different way. Her presence is dominating. She is what I would have expected Y/n to be like when she grew up.” Getting up, he ruffled his hair while pacing to the window. “Jay...do you really believe she died that day? Honestly?” Peeking over his shoulder, seeing his brother gapping like a fish a few times before dropping his head.

“I-I don’t know what I believe. Mother said that she died, but I don’t remember her ever being attacked like Mother said as well.”

“That’s because she wasn’t! She was shot! An arrow went straight threw her chest! Jay, nobody can get past those gates without being let in! Mother had to have opened those gates. She had her shot! She planned it! I saw it with my own eyes! There was no hunter! At all!”

“Calm down, Heeseung.”

“No! Mother is lying through her teeth! And you’re believing it! Everyone is believing it! They pulled me away from her Jay! Did you know that?!”

“I didn’t.”

“Exactly! Mother told me that night that it was for my own good! That she was dangerous! How?! How?! How was she dangerous?!”

Watching his brother scream as his emotions took over. Hearing footsteps as the other five came in. Stopping by Jay’s side as Heeseung let out everything that was bottled up over the past ten years. Crying, screaming, dry heaving was on the low scale of what was happening. None of them got near him because they knew of the consequences that would happen. It hurt them to watch, he was the strongest, the oldest, the brave one. He was letting every wall he had built fall. He was vulnerable, but not gullible. Most of his emotion was anger, no hatred. Aimed mostly at the woman he had to call his mother. Anything she tried to tell him, he ignored. He would sit back and watch his brothers get spoon fed lies. The only thing that she did not know, was that the boys followed their older brother over everybody. When he started showing hostility toward her so did the rest. Especially Sunoo, Jake, and Niki. The rest already had their individual reasons for not respecting her. Jay’s sprouted from constantly having to rebuild his brother because of her. Kneeling in front of his brother wrapping his arms around him, feeling him trembling. Feeling his brother shove his face into his chest, grabbing his shirt roughly. Yanking him forward a few times before slamming his fist into his chest. Wincing as he grabbed his fist. Opening Heeseung’s fist, while places his head on his shoulder. “Stop. Stop this. Don’t let her get this satisfaction. You are showing her that she is getting to you. You don’t want that.” Standing up, watching his brother slouch on his feet. “Get up. I said get the hell up! Are you weak? Do you belong on the ground?” Hearing a faint no, he repeated himself. Getting a louder response the second time, he leaned down wrapping his arms under his shoulders. Making him stand. “You don’t deserve this. Stop letting her get to you. You are stronger than her. Better than her. You are the new king.”

“But Y/n is gone. She killed her.”

“Heeseung, do you honestly believe she is dead?”

“I don’t know what I believe.” Sighing, Jay turned to his brothers. Zeroing in on Jake.

“Jake, did you meet her yet?”

“Pretty stranger? Yeah...more than once actually.”

“What did you sense from her?”

“There wasn’t anything that came up when I met her. However, there was a barrier put up.”

“What do you mean?”

“There is this block put up around us, when she gets nearby. It’s hard to describe. If I said a dome...would that make sense?” Pausing to hear some conformation, he continued. “There is a dome over us, not her. When she gets near us, there is a sense of familiarity. Our conscious recognizes her, but our brain can’t seem to remember her.”

“So you’re saying we do know her?”

“Exactly. She has history with us somewhere. Our paths have most definitely crossed at one point.”

“If we did then why can’t we remember her?”

“I already said why. Our memory was basically erased with anything that was about her.”

“Do you think it could possibly be Y/n?”

“I’m not saying yes, but it’s not impossible either. I would say to ask Heeseung because he was the closest with her, but also had the closest encounter with the pretty stranger. I don’t believe that would go well though seeing as he is a slobbering mess.”

“I’m not a mess.”

“Yeah, and we’re not princes.” Sunoo scoffed at Heeseung’s words. “Do you ever think you will get over her? This happened years ago and you’re still not over it. I get you were in love with her and all that but come on. You weren’t the only one of us that was affected. We all were. You are a selfish, mopping mess. Do you think Grimmingthorn will survive with a King like you? One that is so emotional that they break down at the mention of her name.”

“I do not break down at the mere mention of her name. Right now however, I am upset that there is a possibility of the pretty stranger being Y/n. Not her particularly, but us for not realizing it earlier. Next time you see her, stop her.”

Taglist~ @neptuniees

#enhypen #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #fantasy #prince #princess #fairy #vampire

41 notes · View notes

matthewtkachuk · 4 years ago

Text

feel something pt 7 - jj maybank

On the outside, you’re a kook princess with a seemingly perfect life and a perfect family. The expectations are suffocating you, to the point where the only thing you feel is numb. You’re chasing different coping mechanisms in order to feel something. Until a chance encounter with a certain blond pogue you know you’re supposed to hate gives rise to a different kind of feeling.

Warnings: angst, toxic behaviour, poor coping mechanisms, drug usage, mentions of sex, mentions of suicidal ideations (brief), Rafe being a grade a asshole, shitty parents, abuse

Pairings: JJ x reader (eventually), Rafe x reader (slight)

Words: 3.1k

A/N: dealing with the aftermath of our runaway reader. They say you don’t kiss and tell, but some people just can’t help it. Special s/o to my babe @ohfreyfrey for her help with the end 😇 I heard yall like cliffhangers…

series masterlist

The next day, the potential consequences of your actions set in even further. This isn’t some Romeo and Juliet fairytale, you’re y/n y/l/n, your life was never going to be a fairytale. Plus, that play ended with them dying and you weren’t really into that. Taking a page out of Sarah’s playbook, you start ignoring the larger group, only speaking to Sarah and occasionally Kie. You know you’re avoiding your problems and your feelings for the blond pogue, but the alternative is terrifying.

You’re imagining allowing yourself to completely fall for him and the thought is paralyzing. It’s like handing JJ a loaded gun, showing him exactly where to shoot to kill, and then trusting him not to. You haven’t trusted anyone in a long time. Not since your parents first put their hands on you in anger, not since Jacob Kane touched you inappropriately at a party without your consent, not since Sarah Cameron dropped you without warning. It really scares you, the thought that you were willing to risk that again.

Your parents also scared you. Even if you could get the courage to fall into the unknown without JJ, you couldn’t be open with your relationship. It could never get back to either of your parents, or there would be hell to pay. You were expected to marry rich and marry well. But the thought of spending the rest of your life with a Rafe Cameron or Topper Thornton or Kelce Smith or Jacob Kane made you physically ill. Your parents tolerated your behaviour thus far (if you could consider daily screaming matches and bruises and marks tolerating), but you knew lowering yourself to date a pogue would be the last straw. You didn’t know what they would do, but you knew it wouldn’t be anything good.

It’s two days before the texts start rolling in.

maybank: hey

maybank: just wanted to see if you were ok

maybank: did i do something wrong?

maybank: please talk to me

maybank: i can’t stop thinking about that kiss

maybank: y/n

You don’t know who gave JJ your number but you’re sure it was probably Sarah, who didn’t know when to let things be. You know the smartest thing to do would be to block him, but every time you go to click the button, you hesitate with your thumb poised over your phone and you can never do it. A part of you, one that’s honestly pretty big likes that he’s thinking of you too. It wonders if he feels the same way you do. You’re not stupid, you can acknowledge that he at least likes you a little, if that kiss was any indication. You had felt alive under his touch, with your lips pressed together. That night you had gotten drunk and stoned in your locked bedroom, trying to chase that high but you were right. Nothing would ever come close.

You’re sitting on your bed, staring at the text messages that you have memorized from the number of times you’ve read them when your door is thrown open. You look up in shock, you had definitely locked that to avoid your parents. Chick is grinning at you brightly, holding up a bobby pin to show she had picked the lock. You don’t really acknowledge her presence, only scooting over on your bed to give her room to sit with you. “Sarah’s really worried about you, you know,” she states, and you just shrug. The two of you sit in an uncomfortable silence for a minute or two, before she snatches your phone out of your grasp. You gasp and attempt to pull it from her hands, but she’s a lot smaller and a lot quicker, jumping off your bed and running towards your en suite, ready to jump in and lock the door if necessary. Understanding your odds, you resign yourself to the fate of your little sister reading your text messages and finally figuring out what’s wrong with you.

She looks up at you and gasps your full name, middle name and all, “JJ Maybank??” she screeches. You shush her quickly, not wanting to open that can of worms with your parents just yet. It’s probably a waste of time, if they’re even home they’re likely nowhere near the bedrooms, but still you want to be cautious. “JJ Maybank is the reason you’ve holed yourself up in your room and avoided everyone for four days?”

“Chick,” is your only response, tilting your head as you look at her, eyes silently begging her to stop.

“What’s the big deal, y/n? So what, you kissed a pogue, haven’t you kissed like a hundred boys?” she asks.

“Don’t slut shame me,” you tell her grumpily, “and I haven’t kissed like a hundred people. It’s just…” you trail off, unable to find the words. Or maybe you can find them, you just don’t feel like sharing with your baby sister that you’ve fallen ass over feet over JJ Maybank.

“Oh my god,” Chick says, as something like realization sparks in her eyes, and she stands up even straighter than before and exclaims, “you’re in love with him!”

“What?!” You look at her in disbelief, that was quite a jump from a kiss to love. Your tongue trips over itself as you quickly protest, “Absolutely not Chicklet, that’s actually insane!”

“Is it?” She asks, hands on her hips looking much older than her thirteen years.

“You can’t be in love with someone you’ve only known a few weeks,” you tell her drily, unimpressed with the conversation. Sure, you’ll admit that you’ve got feelings for the pogue, but love? Chick is crazy, love is crazy. That’s not what’s going on here.

“I mean, technically you’ve known him for years.” She rebuts your point.

You sigh deeply, “Okay fine, then you can’t fall in love with someone you’ve only been interested in for a few weeks.”

“So you admit you’ve been interested in him for a few weeks!” She shouts triumphantly, “Wait until I tell Sarah.”

“Chick,” you warn her, “don’t you dare.”

“Your friends are worried about you y/n! I’m not going to lie to them!” She tells you.

“Sarah and Kie will be fine, if you tell them they’ll just go even crazier than they are,” you tell her.

“They’re not the only ones worried, Sarah said they’re all worried. Especially JJ.” She explains, causing your heart to constrict at the mention of JJ worrying over you.

Brushing over the feeling in your chest, you can’t help but ask, “Even John B?” Chicks face falls a little at that, confirming your suspicion that John B still doesn’t think very highly of you. “Right, well tell Sarah and whoever else cares that I’m fine alright.”

“y/n” she says slowly, and the pity in her tone causes your heart to ache. Huffing dramatically, you slide down and under the covers, throwing your comforter over your head.

“I’m fine Chick,” you tell her, voice muffled. You regulate your breathing as you hear her steps near your bed, before she drops what you assume is your phone on your nightstand and then leaves the room, door clicking softly shut behind her.

While you’re talking with your sister, JJ is on the other side of the island in a house that is a lot smaller and less taken care of but has experienced a lot more love, having a similar conversation with the best friend he considers more of a brother.

“What is your problem? You’ve been moping around for two days like someone ran over your dog or something,” John B confronts JJ who hasn’t moved from his spot in the spare bedroom except to eat and use the washroom. JJ can’t really explain, doesn’t want to really explain. He doesn’t need to hear it from John B again about how you are the worst of the worst kook princesses and just messing with him. JJ knows it isn’t true, not that the two of you have ever spoken about it, but from that moment at Midsummers to now, he’s felt something starting between the two of you. Despite initial misgivings, he was wrong about you. Like, really wrong.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” JJ grumbles. Truthfully, he can’t get you out of his head. He had asked Sarah for your number and then proceed to not only text you, but text you five times while being left on read each time. JJ didn’t text girls, he hit it and quit it and dodged texts like it was his third day job. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was worried about you. Having been on the receiving end of a parent’s fist on more than one occasion, he wasn’t sure if you were even okay.

He thinks of how you pressed against him, the way your chapped lips felt against his, the soft feel of your hands on his jaw. He thinks of the satisfaction of finally having you in his arms, the slight lilt of hope in his chest that maybe he wasn’t alone in how he felt about you. But then he thinks of the way you froze, saw the panic in your eyes, and felt the ache in his chest as you ran from him.

“Something obviously happened between you and the princess.” John B astutely observes.

“Don’t call her that,” JJ snaps, frustrated. It’s not really John B’s fault, but the mention of the word ‘princess’ just reminds him of when you told him to call you by your name. Reminds him of that afternoon together, when you had firmly cemented your place at the forefront of his mind. When his initial attraction (and yes he was very attracted to you) had blossomed into admiration of your confidence on the waves and your kindness when dealing with Chick. When he had poked at you and entered your personal space and flustered you to the point you threatened to send him through the windshield.

John B throws his hands up. “I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with Rafe’s property,” John B tries again. JJ glares at him, body tensing up with unbridled rage thinking of the possessive way Rafe looks at you.

“She’s not-“ He has to pause to unclench his jaw and his fists, swallowing before continuing “she’s not his property John B.”

“She might as well be, the way she hangs off of him. Or are you blind?” His best friend replies.

JJ shakes his head in frustration, pulls his snapback off his head and wrings it in his grasp, “You don’t know what you’re talking about John B.”

John B gives his best friend his best incredulous look, eyes widening comically and head tilting as his hands move away from his brain to mime an explosion, complete with side effects. “Have you actually gone insane? Like, are you feeling okay dude?” John B reaches for his best friends forehead, to pretend to take his temperature, but JJ slaps his hand away.

“Fuck off,” JJ mutters when he tries to do it again, and that’s when John B realizes things are serious.

“C’mon man, what’s going on?”

“I really like her man,” JJ sighs heavily, “like really like her. I don’t know what’s going on, I don’t like girls. I mean, I do, but not like this man. I can’t stop thinking about her. I worry about her and I wonder if she’s okay. She drives me crazy, but like, in a good way. And then I kissed her, and I think I fucked it up.”

“For the record, I think this is a bad idea and I reserve the right to tell you I told you so when shit blows up,” John B warns, JJ rolls his eyes but nods, indicating for him to continue. “But, I have to ask. Did you tell her any of this or did you just mack on her and hope her wealthy parents bought her the ability to read minds.”

JJ’s silence is telling. He pulls out his phone, unable to stop the small pang of disappointment that you haven’t yet responded to any of his text messages. He can’t help but send another text, texting etiquette or whatever be damned, he’ll text you as many times as it takes for you to reply.

maybank: i just want to make sure you’re okay

seen 2:34 pm

JJ tries to not let the disappointment take root in his chest, recognizing that you need time to deal with what happened, acknowledging the many times he has gone ghost on his own friends, but the insidious feeling takes hold of him anyway. Walking away from John B, he reflects on his best friend’s advice and realizes there’s a lot he needs to tell you.

“C’mon y/n/n, you have to get out of this room,” Sarah tells you. You’ve let her into your house, realizing that you can’t just shut her out completely without her resorting to desperate measures (like enlisting your little sister in her quest for knowledge). It may have been a mistake because she’s spent the last few minutes trying to convince you to go out to a kegger.

“I don’t want to go,” you tell her, despite the fact that your base state of being has been stuck on ‘I could really use a drink’ since that kiss.

“Because you don’t want to see JJ? Because you kissed him?” She asks, sympathetically. You gasp, Sarah has been over for twenty five minutes, and you had assumed her silence on the matter meant Chick hadn’t snitched.

“I can’t believe Chick told you, you can’t trust anyone, not even your own blood,” you said dramatically.

“Chick didn’t tell me, John B did.” Sarah replies, and you’re confused at first, and then you groan.

“Oh my god, I bet he had a lot to say,” you tell her, and she winces a little. You nod to yourself, “Great, that’s great. Is JJ just telling everyone now? Does everyone know?” You can’t help the annoyed look that crosses your face, despite knowing the annoyance is just a deflection.

“Well, I’m sure JJ told Pope, and I may have let it slip to Kie.” You groan audibly, burying your head in your hands. “Listen, y/n, I was sworn to secrecy,” you roll your eyes, knowing Sarah can’t keep a secret to save her life, evidenced by the first half of her statement, “but, JJ told John B that he really likes you.”

You groan louder, “that’s worse!” but your words are muffled by your arms.

“You wanna repeat that in English that the rest of us can understand?” Sarah responds sassily, and you just groan again. She gives you a minute to mull it over before she’s grabbing you by your upper arms and shaking you.

“Hey, get off of me you psycho,” you twist in her grasp, swatting at her hands.

“Tell me what you’re thinking!” she exclaims, still wrestling with you

“I really like him!” You admit. She pauses, grip slackening long enough for you to slide out from underneath her.

“Okay, I’m failing to see the problem here,” she replies sassily, hand moving to her hip.

“Sarah, my parents! Their expectations, The Lecture, it can never happen.”

She nods in understanding, considerably more somber than before, before replying, “fuck them.”

“Sarah, come on you know it’s not that easy,” you protest, but she shakes her head and repeats herself.

“Fuck. Them.”

“Yeah, and then what? I don’t get my trust fund until I turn eighteen next year, and you can bet they’ll take it away from me if I stray away from the perfect daughter before then. And what about Chick? You don’t think that they’ll take it out on Chick if I just up and leave?” It’s not like you hadn’t thought about it, throwing it all away and starting fresh somewhere new. But you didn’t think they would let you go that easily, and you could never leave Chick behind.

“Then we’ll get my dad and Rose to do something,” Sarah continues to protest, but you shake your head.

“Sarah, stop. It’s never going to work, your dad and Rose aren’t going to go against my father.” She sighed in defeat, realizing that you weren’t going to budge. At least not yet.

“Will you please just come to the kegger? Me and Kie can run interference for you.” She pleads, Cameron pout on full display and you roll your eyes before muttering fine. Her excitement makes you smile a little, for the first time in a few days.

You don’t know why you agreed to come. There’s an anxious feeling in your chest as you take in all the moving bodies with red solo cups in their hands. You’re not sure if you’re looking to spot JJ or hoping you don’t spot him at all. Maybe it’s both, you think as you take a small sip of whatever swill is in your own red cup. You don’t know whether you would kiss him again, run away, or maybe both like the last time.

Lost in your thoughts of the blond, Rafe’s hand is on your waist before you even comprehend that he’s appeared at the party. “Heard you’re officially with Maybank now,” his grip is tight, but you’re able to peel his hand from your body.

“I’m not officially with anyone!” You let your many frustrations out on Rafe, without even a hint of guilt. “God Rafe, when are you going to leave me alone? I don’t owe you shit.” You see hurt flash in his eyes, but you frankly don’t care anymore. He is persistent to a fault, and you want to get it through his thick skull for once.

There’s a small crowd around you, mouths gaping, more than one person is on their phone, likely frantically texting everyone your business. You roll your eyes and push past them, dropping your cup on the first surface you find on your way back to your car. You don’t stop to tell Sarah you’re leaving, but you figure she’ll get the memo when she hears about your run in with Rafe, if she hasn’t heard about it already. You’re upset and frustrated, and so supremely grateful that neither your parents nor Chick are home as you stomp up the stairs and throw yourself on your bed. You didn’t need to add Rafe’s gross possessiveness to the inner turmoil running through your head.

It’s a solid twenty minutes of you just staring up at the ceiling before your phone buzzes with a text message. Figuring it’s probably Sarah and you owe her at least a brief explanation, you unlock the phone. But it’s not a message from Sarah. At the bottom of a string of unreplied to messages is a new text:

maybank: i’m outside, we need to talk

Feel something tag list (ily guys sm): @thoughtsofthestars @dreamsndior @duskangxl @agirlwholovescoffee @previouslyforgotten @http-cherries @softtfordrew @gigi-june @httpstarkey @meaganjm @oopsiedoopsie23 @margaritatimebaybee @iamaunicorn4704 @5am-cigarette @kahnacademyforfun @rudths @llvinlavidaloca @arianabrashierstuff @realistic-breadstick @tattered-masterpiece

Everything tag list (yall are rockstars!!): @velyssaraptor @danicarosaline @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 @ohfreyfrey @downbytheouterbanks / @gforgenevieve @ilovejjmaybank

if you want to be added to either tag list, just shoot me an ask/message/comment love you guys!! shoot me an ask if u wanna talk about this part or literally anything i love you guys thank u for the support

#jj obx #jj x you #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj x y/n #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank angst #diverdcwn writes #feel something

267 notes · View notes

fellulahh · 5 years ago

Text

MC comforts Lucifer over his past

(I really enjoyed writing this! I love exploring a more vulnerable side of Lucifer - I hope you enjoy it too)

MC had known something was off with Lucifer. He’d been silent all day - even when Mammon was up to no good. And if the eldest brother wasn’t being his usual strict self, you knew something was wrong. Disappearing after breakfast, Lucifer hadn’t left his study all day and this didn’t go unnoticed to the human.

Evening had approached and as the remaining brothers went up to bed, MC couldn’t help but think about the raven haired demon. Her mind was troubled thinking about his unusual persona - there was no way she’d be able to allow herself to go to sleep without seeing him. After all, she’d always liked him. What kind of human would she be if she abandoned the demon who had her heart?

As she watched Satan disappear up the stairs, MC moved from her position on the sofa. Making her way into the kitchen, she immediately began searching the cupboards for a teacup. She wanted to do something to show Lucifer her appreciation so she thought his favourite cup of coffee may help. After preparing it exactly the way he liked, MC carefully stepped down the hallways, ensuring she didn’t spill any. As she approached his study, she quickly pressed her ear against the door.

She heard nothing.

Knocking gently, she awaited his usual call but unsurprisingly it never came. Sighing to herself as worry filled her mind, she carefully turned the doorknob with one hand. As soon as the door opened, she saw Lucifer across the room. His body was sunken over his desk and his face was buried in the crook of his arm. A breath escaped MC’s lips when she saw him.

Closing the door behind her, MC slowly walked toward him. Lucifer didn’t look up despite hearing the footsteps. As she neared his desk, she noticed his fingers were laced in his hair; gripping it tightly.

Discarding the cup of coffee to one side, MC realised this wasn’t just a matter of him being stressed over his paperwork. Quietly stepping around his desk, she leant over by his side.

“Lucifer?” She whispered with concern dripping in her voice.

He didn’t respond.

“Luci?” She asked again, putting a gentle hand on his back.

Hearing him sigh, MC stepped back as his body began to shift. He let out a soft moan as he sat up in his chair. His eyes were surprisingly puffy and his cheek was red from where he’d be laying on the desk. Not looking at the human beside him, he spoke her name.

“MC.” He said simply.

“Lucifer what’s wrong?” She asked with furrowed eyebrows as she crouched beside him.

He turned his head when he felt her presence so close to him. His eyes studied her concerned face carefully, admiring every single detail of her from her warm eyes to the freckles on her nose. Lucifer had never seen anybody looked so worried for him before.

“It matters not.” He stated, turning his face away from her as he rested an elbow on his desk.

Suddenly his eyes fell on the beverage on his desk that had seemed to appear out of nowhere. “What’s this?” He asked, staring at the drink.

“Your favourite.” MC answered, standing up again as she glanced at the coffee too. “I thought you may have been stressed from your work and could do with a drink.”

Lucifer listened to her every word very carefully.

“But when I saw you slumped over your desk I knew this wasn’t a matter of needing a drink...” she spoke with her voice quietening.

Still keeping his eyes on the coffee, Lucifer’s face softened. “No, it’s not.” He opened up.

Sensing his slight change in demeanour, MC perched her rear on his desk so that she could face him. “Talk to me, Lucifer.” She urged, trying to meet his eyes.

“You shouldn’t concern yourself with my problems.” He spoke defensively as his face soured.

MC let out a sigh. She knew his pride would get in the way; Lucifer never fully opened up to anybody about his fears and horrors. He was nothing but a book with the cover sealed shut.

“You don’t need to be so defensive, Lucifer.” She spoke quietly, trying to be supportive. He’d always refused to share his problems with others. Lucifer was a lone wolf as it were, everything he went through, he’d go through it alone.

“And I suppose you want me to open my heart to you? Tell you the despair that lies in my heart?!” He questioned harshly as he finally turned his head to her. MC didn’t react to his stubbornness. She knew that deep down Lucifer didn’t mean to lash out at her. He was just frightened.

“Yes I do.” She stated simply.

Lucifer was almost surprised at her complete unphased attitude. Usually others would cower at his venomous ways. The fact that she hadn’t left yet despite his rudeness toward her made him question her feelings about him. Did she care?

“Why?” He asked quietly as his eyes narrowed.

“Because I worry about you.” She told him softly, shifting closer to him. For a moment, Lucifer flinched. It was as if he was almost scared of her affection. “I know your defences are all an act.”

He was almost offended at her accusation. Placing a hand on his chest, his eyes darkened. “How could you possibly ever know how I feel?” He interrogated.

“Because Luci...” she spoke, hesitating for a moment. He watched her eagerly, waiting for the end of her sentence. Shaking her head, she sealed her lips before changing the subject. “It doesn’t matter. My only concern right now is you.”

He sighed to himself; slumping back in his chair as his eyes returned to the coffee that was beginning to grow cold. They remained in silence for a period as Lucifer thoughts were conflicted. Could he trust her? Was he ready to be honest for the first time?

Defeated, he let out a shaky breath. “Today marks the anniversary...” he spoke quietly in a low voice.

Remaining silent, MC leant forward, studying his expression.

Not meeting her eyes, he continued. “Today marks the anniversary of my descent from the celestial realm...the day I became this hideous demon.”

MC’s heart sunk as she could see the pain behind his eyes. It was as if she could sense his mind playing every single memory of that day on repeat; torturing him.

Reaching out her arm, she gently gripped his hand. Giving it a quick squeeze, she told him exactly what she was feeling. “You’re better off now.” She informed him.

Not expecting that reaction, Lucifer turned his head as a quizzical look washed across his face. “What?” He seethed. “Do you not know of the pain I suffered in being here? The pain I felt after being cast away?!”

“I’m not going to tell you what you expect to hear - you’ll hear no apologies from me.” she whispered, “I won’t allow you to wallow in self pity - I just want you to be able to see yourself the way I look at you.”

His eyes fell to her hand that still held his as he contemplated her words.

“Your descent has made you who you are today; the Lucifer I know. And I know that you’re quietly compassionate, strong willed and courageous.” She smiled, “You’re not the hideous demon that you seem to think you are. Don’t let your past warp the way you see yourself.”

“That’s easier said than done...” he sighed, lowering his defences.

“I know.” She nodded.

“The memories just still haunt me.” He confessed.

“And they probably always will.” MC spoke honestly, “trauma like that never heals.”

“There’s something you and I both can agree on.” He mumbled as he ran a hand through his hair.

Still studying his stressed expression, MC gave his hand another gentle squeeze. “Please stop hating yourself, Lucifer.” She pleaded.

“Why?” He asked suspiciously, turning to meet her eyes. “Why do you care so much?”

“Because I love you.” She stated simply, catching him by complete surprise. “And I fell in love with Lucifer the demon, not Luciel the angel.”

Lucifer was silent as he processed her words. His eyes had widened and his face was no longer stiff.

“Now is there anything I can get you?” MC asked, distracting him from the revelation.

“No.” He spoke quietly as he shook his head. Suddenly holding her hand back, his gaze met hers. “But will you stay with me tonight?”

MC smiled sweetly at him as she used her other hand to caress his cheek. “I’d do anything for you, Lucifer.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer

438 notes · View notes

dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years ago

Text

Tigre

“.... Where am I?” Tigre opened his eyes to darkness and the sound of his own deep voice. The black hulks of the concrete pillars stood in rows on the cold concrete floor. “Oh… I know where this is.”

“Where are you?” An unfamiliar voice said. It was friendly… curious. Non-threatening.

“It’s where I live. But there are no chains any more. Brother broke the chains. I’m so tired. I want to sleep.” He closed his eyes again but the voice woke him.

“Brother?”

“Yes. He came… and he commanded the chains to burn and they fell off.” He suddenly saw his ‘brother’ there, standing with golden eyes. He saw as clear as if it was happening now, how that deep snarling sent heat through the thick iron chains that bound him for years and melted them like ice.

“He is your brother?”

“He has eyes like mine…” says Tigre, looking fondly at the image of this man. “No one else has eyes like mine. Is he okay? Zihang…” He remembered the explosion and the collapse of the building. He stood against the rubble, but he could smell the blood of Zihang. So much blood. “Please don’t die… don’t die, Zihang…” Tears ran down his cheeks and he curled into a ball.

“You know his name?”

“Yes.”

A square of blue light shined on his face suddenly. A different voice sounded from it, distant and electronic. “Zihang… Chu Zihang. Do you read? Come in! Come in, Chu Zihang!”

That’s how he knew his rescuer’s name.

“What is your name?”

“Tigre… Where is Zihang? Is Zihang okay?” He stood up and started walking, looking for the source of the voice.

He suddenly saw a man standing there and stopped a moment before retreating again behind a pillar.

“Are you afraid?”

“Who are you? Where is this? The building blew up. This isn’t real. Are you going to try to kill me?” He asked question after question, breathing hard from panic.

“Why would I kill you?” The voice remained calm and curious, almost confused.

A vision of a dark shadow moved swiftly between the pillars. Tigre knew this shadow. It was the great beast he fought and killed last. It was hiding, but he could hear it breathing, its growling.

The friendly voice fell silent.

Tigre didn’t cower or hide. His posture changed to stalking. He walked forward slowly, staying in the shadows of the pillars. But he moved forward with intent, without fear. He kept his head still.

He could hear the monster moving. The monster was hesitating. It was behind the pillar directly in front of him. It was either going to attack or retreat. Tigre wanted to push it to retreat. So he moved forward a step...then another step and then he ran. Three long strides and he was at the pillar and the monster retreated, turning his back to him to run away.

But Tigre was already on top of it. He dragged it down with his weight and pinned it to the hard floor. His arm wrapped its throat and choked it. The monster was about twice as big and heavy as he was, but its breath was choked off by Tigre’s bulging arm muscles. Tigre felt that rapid pulse through his skin and just focused on squeezing, harder, harder… harder!

The creature died. He could feel the heart stop. After a few seconds of stillness he let go. It was once some sort of mammal but now it was covered in scales, bare of fur, eyes rolled back to their whites. It may have been a cow.

“What are you going to do now?”

Tigre looked down, sadly. “Eat him.”

“Why?”

“I have nothing else to eat. They did not feed me for a long time. Many days. If I don’t eat him, it will be days before I can eat again. I will have to eat him. You will eat anything if you feel hungry and desperate enough. Eating him makes me sick. But if I don’t eat, I will starve to death.”

The voice was silent for a while.

Tigre sat next to the corpse. This wasn’t real. He had done this already. A sharp pain stabbed through the center of his skull and he flinched. “Hurts… Who are you?”

“My name is Toyama. I’m here to help you.”

“Where is Zihang?” He looked up.

“He’s okay. Who are they? The ones that feed you?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s alright,” said Toyama. “That part of your life is over. And a new life will start for you. I will help guide you to it, but you must be careful and not hurt anyone. Even if they try to hurt you. You must do no harm. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now rest a little while longer. We will speak again.”

Tigre lay on the hard cold ground and felt unbearably sleepy. He closed his eyes.

Toyama released him from the trance he’d put him in. He sat next to the young man’s bed, listening to him breathe quietly.

Before putting him in the trance, he had sat like this for nearly thirty minutes.

Schneider had approached him that morning about this new recruit. The man spoke to him in private instead of going through official channels on the Nightwatcher Forum. He told him he wanted to evaluate the mental state of this newcomer as closely as he could and write a detailed and honest assessment of it, to be completely honest in his opinion and to report privately, only to him.

Toyama was an experienced psychologist, and knew that Schneider was prone to secrecy, a loner who had his own way of doing things, but never had he been personally solicited by him to do an evaluation. Usually he worked closely with the other professors, Guderian and the Principal Anjou. This was the first time Schneider had approached him over an evaluation. It took great effort for the man to get anywhere. The oxygen container allowed him to do things, but he was nowhere near the stamina of a healthy person. For him to make the great effort to meet him in person told him the importance of the request.

On the day of this evaluation, he was personally escorted to the ward by senior members of the Executive Board and left there without anyone speaking. He used Schneider’s own security card to get in, meaning Schneider was shielding him from involvement. He closed the door behind him and he was only with this young man, who was still heavily sedated.

He sat with him and started with physical observations. Like Manstein, he could observe the scars from the battles and the shackles. But unlike Manstein, he could draw conclusions about the psychological effects of long term confinement. You didn’t shackle someone, unless you needed to be in physical proximity of someone dangerous and wanted to do something to them that they didn’t want you to do to them.

He expected to see abuse.

So in this quiet hospital room, he started his psychological evaluation, calling for his Yanling to enter what he knew would be a damaged mind. But instead of a vast storehouse of tragic information, he found a jumbled mess, full of long gaps of memory lost. Memories scattered through time like a reel of a movie that had been cut to pieces and thrown on the floor. And instead of a wide variety of experiences, he just saw the same dark space, filled with foundation pillars.

He didn’t see someone driven mad by the isolation and the violence. He saw someone one who was only concerned about his rescuer, Chu Zihang. Someone who didn’t voluntarily kill from frustration and violence, but someone who fought and killed for food.

So he went in again. And then a third time and found the same thing. The young man was given fertile ground for a twisted mind, but his mind had grown up tall and straight.

After several hours, he decided he could honestly write that the young man’s mind appeared healthy, but he had some reservations, namely, the piecemeal nature of his memories. Toyama never met someone in his life who had the same Yanling as him, who could mold and shape the memories of a person. But that didn’t mean that he was the only one. He knew his own work, and he had the feeling that someone had forcefully erased and manipulated the mind of this man, to make him docile. Based on the hard facts, he could recommend him to the College, but it wasn’t just his body that had been shackled, but his mind had been shackled as well.

He returned to Schneider who looked over the report. He then prepared tea for him and sat across from him. The quiet hiss of his oxygen tank was the only sound while he read. Toyama couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy at Schneider’s odd behavior. Perhaps Schneider should be the one getting an evaluation instead. It was obvious that the good health of the patient wasn’t natural. It was induced. His mind was pruned like a delicate and beautiful bonsai tree that would require maintenance. Toyama got the feeling that he was going to be asked to continue that ‘maintenance’.

He was right.

Schneider was very satisfied with this evaluation and even smiled. Toyama was accustomed to whitewashing minds for the benefit of the world. The Executive division was occasionally messy with its work and the world had to remain ignorant of dragons. Perhaps Schneider assumed that he wouldn’t mind this job but he preferred not to use his abilities against students. He still believed in free will and the right for hybrids to understand their world. On the other hand, he also understands that freeing the patient's mind could also spell his doom and he felt pity for him.

The patient, named officially Tigre, was moved to an ordinary room in the hospital and ordinary accomodations were being prepared for him. Toyama felt it was right to introduce him to the world gradually. Tigre wouldn’t understand the world at all and the students wouldn’t understand him. To throw him in uninitiated would be a disaster.

He saw Tigre’s eyes open genuinely to the world.. The voice he heard was Toyama’s, welcoming him. Tigre stared in recognition, remembering his voice from his dreams, like a baby opening his eyes for the first time and recognizing the voice of his mother from the womb.

Breakfast was simply a bland, slightly sweetened warm cereal and a small amount of apple. Toyama fed him at first with a spoon. Tigre devoured these foods, rising up from the bed to follow the spoon as it retreated and opening his mouth for the next bite. Even those middling flavors were like the taste of ambrosia to someone forced to eat nothing but raw flesh. His eyes grew wide and bright, and Toyama was forced to look away. That inhuman and icy fire pierced him with fear.

He then slid a pair of sunglasses over Tigre’s eyes. “You need these to help others see you better.” He gently explained.

That yellow light was dampened by the dark lenses and Tigre nodded.

He bathed him with a warm cloth, clipped his nails, and combed his long hair. Tigre was unused to any touch at all and the hairs rose on his skin and he shivered, closing his eyes.

Toyama pulled out his phone to flash cards in different languages. He would ask him to tell him what a single word said. If Tigre pronounced the word he would nod and go to a different language. The young man spoke English, but could also read it. He read in both Chinese, Korean, and a little Japanese. This spoke to a high level of education at an early age.

Toyama had tried to look into his earliest memories, but attempting to do so caused him physical pain. He didn’t want to ruin their relationship so whenever the man expressed that something hurt, he backed off and didn’t do it again. Now he knew that this wasn’t some orphaned street child in the middle of nowhere. Someone who could read so many languages had to have gone to a private or prestigious school.

His memories of his early childhood had been erased. But there had to be traces of it. He made similar evaluations of his recognizing numbers, his understanding of math. He brought a table and put a corn seed on the table, a cup of dirt, and a cup of water and asked him to tell him what to do with it. This was to evaluate his understanding of science. Tigre stared at it for a long time. His eyes suddenly squinted and he flinched slightly and turned away as if seeing the sunlight after leaving a dark room. Toyama wrote this down. He wasn’t sure why understanding how plants grew elicited pain, but it was important to establish these patterns.

Toyama played music. Music was something embedded deep in the mind and if he had any memories of his childhood he would react. He played the themes of music from children’s television. When he started playing the theme song for ‘Reading Rainbow’, Tigre grew visibly upset and started to pant, clutching his head. Tigre burst into tears, crying. “It hurts. It hurts!”

He collapsed on the bed, writhing and sobbing until Toyama had him sedated for the rest of the day. Toyama completed and sent this evaluation to Schneider who responded with a short message that the reintroduction to life should continue.

#Dragon Raja

9 notes · View notes

thelastpilot · 4 years ago

Text

Tell Me So I Understand- Adrino Fic Request

This is one of my finished commissions for the amazing charity even @mlbforblm with a 4k fic commissioned under the request for ‘Adrien/Nino hurt comfort’. If you would like to comission something from me as well before this event concludes please go here to check out my slots! Please donate to this great cause and get a fic from yours truly.~~

----

The cool metal of the railing grounded him to the space, reminding him of where he was as he struggled to remain present. Nino took a deep breath, the frigid air making him shiver slightly. The balcony on which he hid was abandoned for the most part, one couple huddled together many yards away as they finished discussing something private. Neither of these people took any notice of him, the woman’s presumably lovely but insufficient dress for the cold forcing the pair to hurry back inside. They had likely been hoping for privacy, but it seemed only Nino’s turmoil was sufficient enough cause to stay in the bitter cold, ruminating.

He attempted to straighten his spine, standing tall as his hands pulled weakly at his tie, trying to let him breathe. He shuddered again as a cold breeze bit through his suit jacket, reminding him of its expensive weight paired with expensive shoes paired with expensive bullshit on this lifeless marble balcony-

He closed his eyes, forcing that spiraling thought down and trying to relax, but he couldn’t stop himself from pulling at the tie.

It had been unbalanced for almost the entire event, Nino noticing too late that it was askew and silently panicking over how long it had been that way. It was a small infraction but… depending on who you asked,

So was he.

His urgent hands stilled as they gave up on the mess they had made, falling forward to grip the ice cold railing again.

This was his first big event.

He had expected it to be taxing, he’d been bracing himself for it all month but he knew how much it meant to Adrien to do this together. Adrien himself had sworn off big galas and publicity junkets like this almost entirely after he turned 18, but every once in a while he’d put in an appearance at some big soiree and do his thing, if only for Gabriel.

This was the first event Adrien had planned to attend since the two of them had made their relationship public to the press. He had been so excited to attend it as a couple.

Now Nino had essentially abandoned him to the wave of rich folks with their petty shallow conversations and was on the verge of some kind of panic alone behind the first unlocked door he had found.

It had hit him out of nowhere… he hadn’t expected to be comfortable, fancy events were never really his thing and he had always felt out of place in formal spaces. However the more nervous he became the more he felt he was messing up every interaction he had. Despite Adrien’s best efforts they were routinely separated, and every time they were apart Nino would flounder along the edges of the party, hoping no one would talk to him. He was a pretty sociable guy but there were just so many people he didn’t know how to talk to. And in the end he had nothing to say.

When someone who probably had a mutli-million dollar net worth pointed out his tie was messed up it had really seemed like she was just being nice, wanting to let him know to save him the embarrassment, but it had just been the final straw. Now he was totally unpresentable, having made the problem worse as he routinely did.

Nino slumped against the railing, letting his face fall in his hands as he tried his best to get a grip… the cold, emotionless marble all around him left him in peace, even if the sudden swell of party noise did not.

The glass door clicking shut sent a spike of nerves up his back and he quickly reached for his tie, resolved to just rip if off when he heard a chilling, familiar voice.

“I hope you realize that’s one of kind. If you just throw it over the edge, I won’t be replacing it.”

Nino paused, taking a long, calculated breath. He couldn’t help the wash of anger that crept up on him in this vulnerable moment, but he used the freezing air around him to push it down, turning to regard the man who had found him.

Gabriel Agreste did not seem to notice the cold, standing as firmly and distantly as Nino had always known him to be. He was wearing unusually dark colors, his tux looking more appropriate for mourning then it did for a large charity event, but perhaps that was just apart of his newest theme. The suits he had tailored made for himself and Adrien were similar, though thankfully not identical. He approached slowly, drinking methodically from a tall glass.

Nino took a moment to decide how he wanted to handle this, before deciding after a time to just slouch against the railing, allowing his irritation to show on his face.

“What do you need,” Nino muttered, unwilling to engage in the careful politeness they usually maintained. He couldn’t honestly say he had had a deliberately unpleasant experience with Gabriel in some time now, but at this moment… he just didn’t have the energy.

Gabriel didn’t answer, his professional eye glancing over him and sending another wash of anger through him, analyzing him like every other fucking person he had met tonight. It was a shock however when Gabriel stepped forward, coming towards him without another comment just yet, like he didn’t feel the need for one.

Nino tensed in confusion and discomfort as Gabriel set his glass down and abruptly reached for the mess he had made of his tie, ignoring the way Nino backed up against the railing to make as much distance as he could. All Nino managed at first was an uncomfortable huff, but Gabriel hadn’t asked permission and he didn’t ask for any to continue. The cold, emotionless man just started fixing it, ignoring Nino’s rampant confusion.

They were dead silent as Gabriel fixed his tie, the older man just resolving the issue without comment or explanation. By the time he was done the tie was affixed perfectly in its place, but it was clear the young man wearing it was extremely uncomfortable still.

They waited, Gabriel taking a step away and looking out over the railing, the distant view of Paris at night their only commentary for a while.

It was still. And it was cold.

And it was quiet.

Nino didn’t move for a while, eventually shifting uncomfortably until he was looking out over the vista as well, a good five or six feet between them now.

Nino’s mind was racing over what to do, before a subtle shift interrupted his panicked thinking. He looked over just as Gabriel turned slightly to regard him.

“My son is looking for you.”

“Hm,” Nino replied, looking away. He fidgeted slightly, and said nothing else.

“He’s making a bit of a scene, people are starting to notice.”

Nino couldn’t contain his irritation at that, shooting Gabriel a dark look as he said, “Am I expected to apologize for that?”

“I would have thought you might,” Gabriel said coldly, looking away from him and out over the city. He paused for a beat before his tone shifted. “You accuse me of managing his image,” his voice fell into a near accusation, “You seem far more concerned with it than I am.”

“What does that mean,” Nino hissed at him, finally straightening and facing him fully, but Gabriel seemed unperturbed. He just continued to admire the view.

“It means if you weren’t so obsessed with how your presence affected his reputation you wouldn’t have ran away.” Gabriel turned slowly, fixing him in place with one cold, ice blue eye. “Hypocritical of you, seeing as my son largely holds it against me for asserting that same thing once.”

Nino didn’t manage to retort right away, a hot, angry feeling restricting his chest as he stared him down. He knew his hands were shaking, but as he grappled with the pit of anxiety that clawed through years’ worth of protective anger, he couldn’t know for sure why.

“Don’t act like you know me, you don’t know shit about me.”

“I know about people. It’s my business,” Gabriel stated firmly, looking off into the distance again as if Nino was barely there. “I’ve built a lot around understanding fundamental weaknesses in character. And if you think a man whose built his company around insecurities can’t identify one at a glance then you’re a fool.”

“So you’re a cold blooded monster. I get the picture.”

Nino half expected an evil chuckle or something else cliché from him at this point, but he was surprised to see the man pause and reach for his glass. When he finally spoke… his tone was cold, and bitter.

“I would have thought my son had already told you as much.”

Silence lapsed suddenly, Gabriel’s passive sentiment hanging between them as Nino tried to unpack what that meant. However, there was too much there, the older man continuing to drink silently.

Nino didn’t have anything to say, unsure of what to make of the cards Gabriel was playing. Was he aiming for pity? Like Nino should somehow feel bad about the relationship he had with his son? That didn’t seem right…

One hand drifted to his fixed tie, wondering what any of this was for.

“Do you have a point here Gabe? Or are you just adding vague upsetting dialogue to my breakdown tonight?” Nino pushed the words out firmly, knowing he had to stand his ground with this guy. His casual nickname annoyed him about as much as he had hoped, Gabriel suddenly looking stiff, but not addressing it.

“My point,” he finally spoke, “is that you’re as transparent as you can be. You’re insecure, you’re out of place. You don’t belong here and it makes you seem weak, anyone in that room can tell that much just from looking at you.” Gabriel turned, his expression completely unreadable. “You don’t think you deserve to be here with him.”

Nino didn’t flinch, clenching his fists tighter as he swallowed down all the dark, twisted crap he was feeling. He refused to waver, even if he was sinking he wasn’t going to let that show.

“Well isn’t that just everything you ever wanted,” Nino spat at him harshly, “isn’t it nice to know you were right.”

To his surprise, Gabriel was quiet.

Nino stood there, steadfast. Even if he didn’t know what to do with all the shit in his head, this was a threat he knew how to handle. But despite what he expected, Gabriel didn’t fire back. He waited, and finished his drink, setting it down with a quiet clink of glass against marble.

Gabriel straightened, standing as tall and as unbeatable as he always had. And yet he didn’t look him in the eye.

“I realized too late that what I think doesn’t matter.”

When he finally met Nino’s gaze, what he saw was a young man who was completely unprepared for what he was hearing. He still saw all those insecurities, woven into him and impacting every single thing he said and did. He had spotted them the first time they had met, seen them below the surface every day since. Nino didn’t even attempt to deny it, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was that Gabriel understood what he thought didn’t matter anymore.

“You’re a hypocrite, and a fool,” Gabriel finally surmised plainly, “You openly accept the same things my son held against me. What I think of you doesn’t matter, what my son thinks of you does. Is that not what he always insisted?”

Nino waited… his steadfast posture loosening in his uncertainty, because- this wasn’t going… how he thought it would.

“… I didn’t think you really understood that.”

“It appears I wasn’t the only one.”

Nino was dumbstruck, completely disarmed in less than a sentence. The frigid air between them kept them separated, like winter in Paris somehow understood there would always be this immeasurable gap between these two people. Somehow though they occupied the same space, revealing them both for a moment. And he didn’t understand what he saw.

A man who had lost a lot because of his own actions. Naively, perhaps, he had always assumed Gabriel was oblivious to that.

Gabriel Agreste began to step away, pacing around him and abandoning his glass to chill out on the marble railing alone. He was shoulder to shoulder with him when Nino finally spoke, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to stop.

“Wait- wait. Gabriel wh-,” he hesitated, conflicted about this but knowing he was exposed no matter what he did. He saw right through him.

Nino looked away from him and said, “What if you were right? What if… what if I’m not good enough?”

Gabriel paused, turning his face slightly to regard something, before looking back towards Nino. “I believe my son would have a lot to say on the subject.”

Nino frowned, confused for only a moment before Gabriel excused himself without ceremony or further comment. He stepped away and left him there, and it was only when Nino turned to follow his movement that he saw the illuminated doorway occupied by a still, silent silhouette.

Nino felt his heart falter before it sank deep into the pit of his stomach, the freezing cold of the night occurring to him for the first time in a while. It was inescapable now, chilling him to the bone as he watched Gabriel cross the space, passing by his son without feeling the need to address him. He just left them to survive one another, vanishing into the light and the sounds of the long-neglected venue.

It was quiet, the thrum of the party the only commentary. It faded and dulled as Adrien slowly closed the door, letting it shut without a sound and sealing them away in the private space.

Nino’s hands were shaking, and he knew perfectly why now; there was no anger left to compete for his confusion. He breath became uneven as Adrien stepped forward, coming towards him slowly but falling short with a sizable distance left between them.

The expression on his face was completely unreadable, set firmly in place as he stood there and said nothing. All Nino could hear now was his heart, and his breathing, the tempos erratic and out of sync.

“A-Adrien,” he finally managed, his hands anxiously fumbling with his cuffs. He let out a nervous laugh, unable to look away from his face. “L-look I don’t really know how much of that you heard, but I-,”

“I’ve been looking for you for half an hour,” Adrien spoke flatly, something just below the surface of his tone. “I called you a million times.”

Nino’s hand twitched towards his pocket, another uneasy laugh slipping out. “It must have died…,” he lied.

There was silence, for a while.

“I- I was-… Nino,” Adrien let his name out in a rush, like a gasp almost, and his unreadable expression cracked just a bit into endless guilt, “I came out here so ready to apologize and take you out of here, I was ready to say sorry for dragging you here and making such a big deal out of this even though I knew it made you uncomfortable. I knew you were having a horrible time I knew you hated it but I didn’t- I-,” he stopped again. Adrien looked away, staring down at the cold marble like he needed the distance, and to Nino’s horror he saw his shoulders shake as his hands balled into fists. “I thought you hated fancy parties, I thought you hated formal events. I thought you hated the people and the posturing and everything else I didn’t think-,” he stilled, and looked up. And the look on his face broke his heart.

“Nino is any of what you just said true? Please…,” and his voice cracked, “Please tell me you don’t really believe anything you just said…”

The space between them felt like miles to him, Nino pouring over the details of Adrien’s face before he couldn’t stand it and he just looked away. His hands curled together without his permission and he didn’t know what to say… he didn’t even know if it was true.

Gabriel had put it in his head but they both knew he was right, everything Nino thought throughout the whole wretched night came back to this one idea. That everyone in the room knew who Adrien was, everyone wanted the gossip on his newest announcement. Everyone wanted to see who was so important that Adrien Agreste had stepped away from the spotlight.

Everyone wanted to see if he was worth it.

And he didn’t know the answer…

His hands shook only once more, the cold only touching him for another, long, weighted moment. When suddenly he felt something warm and urgent and nearly angry push against his chest, forcing him three steps back.

He was backed up against the railing in a second as Adrien reached for his face, tilting his face and kissing him suddenly, so urgent and quick that it was only Adrien’s strength that kept them both from slipping. Nino let out a gasp of surprise but Adrien took it from him, him mind going blank as he kissed him again, only some corner of his mind registering the distant smash of glass as Gabriel’s abandoned drink tumbled away from them both a long ways down. He fell with it, in a way, only Adrien enough to keep him from breaking into pieces.

He fumbled for something to hold, loosely gripping at Adrien’s jacket as the contact went on, his fingers limp after a while, his thoughts unfocused.

He had no idea how long it went on for, but by the time they were done they were both panting unevenly. Adrien did not leave his space, planting his hands on either side of him on the railing to steady himself. Nino held on to him for much the same reason, his chin tucked into Adrien’s shoulder as they caught their breath.

“I-,” Adrien spoke unevenly, his voice heavy, “I have something… to say.”

“Are you going to say it like that? You can, if you want to,” Nino answered, his chuckle breathy as he struggled to ground himself.

“This is important,” was his only response to his joke, the man moving so that he could force him to look up, the two of them standing face to face.

Nino looked at him again, so close up now that he could see so much behind what he had interpreted as unreadable. It was angry, and guilty, and heartbroken; it was loving, and soft, and urgent, and desperate.

“I have something to say, and I want you to understand it. I- I need you to get this. And if you don’t, I’ll say it again.” His eyes drifted all over his face, holding himself in that intimate space.

“You’re the most important thing that has ever happened to me. The most… critical, and precious thing I have ever had. What you say, and what you think means everything to me, and that’s all. That’s it, I can survive everything else, I can put everything else aside Nino.” He looked him in the eyes, searching his face like he was desperate to be clear. “You are the only unquestionable thing to me, having you with me and knowing that I can be apart of your life is all that counts. I don’t care what they think!” he nearly shouted it, gesturing behind them to things Nino couldn’t even see anymore, only focused on his face. “I don’t care what he thinks, I care what you think, and what you believe. And if you can honestly try and tell me that you- you shouldn’t… that you can’t be- be seen with me I-…” he faltered, his head tilting down and shaking slightly like he didn’t understand. Nino tried to speak but Adrien continued, taking a deep breath and trying to steel himself. “I don’t get it, I don’t understand it. I can’t see it at all and that makes it so hard to come at because I just don’t see where you’re coming from. Please Nino,” he straightened up, looking at him again, “please explain it to me so I can understand. Tell me how it makes sense because I don’t understand. What did you mean when you said ‘What if I’m not good enough,’ what did that mean? Was that him? Was that him trying to get in your head?”

“No, no no no, I-,” Nino faltered, looking down so he could breath. Adrien’s hands were cold from the marble when he reached up to cup his face. When he tried to tilt his face up Nino resisted, moving a hand to hold on to his and leaning into it. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry-,”

“Don’t apologize. Just tell me so I can understand.”

“I don’t know!” Nino finally forced out, shutting his eyes and gripping his hand tighter. For a moment Adrien thought he was going to tear it away, but he just clung to him. “I don’t know, I’m just being stupid, I don’t know how I meant it. But every headlines saying it, every fucking tabloid post all the gossip Adrien its not like you couldn’t hear it,” he moved his other hand to pull a wad of Adrien’s jacket into a fist, hanging on. “I kept pretending like it wasn’t getting to me what was I supposed to say?” he continued wretchedly, finally looking up at his boyfriend and aware of the pain on his face. “How was I supposed to tell you that I didn’t get it either. That every crapshoot paparazzi asking who was so important and I just- I didn’t know. I just felt lucky that you loved me but I didn’t know the answer to all that shit, whose so important, I don’t know either. I don’t get it, I don’t get any of this! I don’t know where to stand or who to talk to or how to look,” he whispered, gesturing to his tie again though it hardly mattered anymore. As the words fell out of him he lost steam and urgency, leaning down until his forehead was against Adrien’s shoulder. His boyfriend responded immediately, holding him tightly.

“I’m sorry…,” Nino finally apologized anyways, keeping his eyes shut and trying to focus on only them. “I should have just told you I was way too far out of my comfort zone… I knew how much this meant to you and I blew it… I wanted people to see us together. But then everyone did and they were asking who I was, and I’m not any-,”

“Don’t,” Adrien cut him off, saying it so suddenly and firmly that Nino immediately fell quiet, pulling back to look up at him. “Don’t say that.”

When he pulled back to stand face to face with him again he saw all of the same things he had seen in him before, but among those feelings now he saw disbelief.

“Don’t talk to me like you’re no one, I can’t stand it Nino… I can’t. You just have no idea…,”

Nino hesitated, wanting to look away again, but not resisting when Adrien reached up to stop him. “No idea about what…,”

“No idea about you,” he answered, and the way he said it, the way he looked at him…

It was like he was everything.

When Adrien kissed him again Nino was instantly breathless, clinging to him as Adrien pushed him back. It was like he was trying to speak, taking Nino’s advice and trying to tell him everything he needed to say in a kiss.

His thumb slid over his cheek and Adrien kissed him again, and again, trying as many times as he could to get it all across. How do you tell someone that they’re everything to you? How do you tell someone who doubts and wavers that there are some things that are just fact… indisputable, undeniable facts?

I love you.

I know.

I love you.

I know…

I love you… I love you.

I know... I know... I love you too.

#mlbforblm #adrino #adrien/nino #adrinino #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #gabriel agreste #if gabriel seems ooc to you #its because i gave him depth #lmao oooh burn to canon #my boys #my sweet sweet ship

253 notes · View notes

savnofilter · 4 years ago

Text

TW: MENTIONS OF DISCOURSE, GR//MING, P/D/PHILIA, ASS//LT, C//NSENT, D//RK CONTENT.

- this isnt under a read more because i want people to read this, but please read past this/tread carefully if you cannot handle such topics. this is not meant to be interacted with.

I'm not sure how to really go about this. I've been overthinking if I should address this and bring up some stuff while I've been gone, so sorry the absence. I deleted the tumblr app a few days ago and I downloaded it again today so i could post this. I really don't like making posts like this because it cuts the vibe that I've been trying to portray that everything is okay and it makes me feel really disconnected to you guys. I am sorry for the abrupt absence and cutting off any source of communication between us. I knew if I left any form of direct line of talk to me that I would receive hate and I just mentally decided that I cant sit through being harassed right now.

Have you guys ever paid attention to the same people who always have a statement to say or is always in discourse? It's very telling how everyone can post about me, but I shouldnt dare post about them. I'm tired of not being able to post about what I want without people vague posting about me, bringing me up every time they start another discourse with another writer or directly talking about me. My days on here are starting to feel the same. Its good then it goes bad. Good goes bad and bad goes good. It's not even tiring, annoying, or angering -- its repetitive. When I'm not saying anything people create fake stories about me, and when i speak about it im the one starting discourse. Don't get me wrong, I'm nowhere near perfect and I have made my own mistakes. But why the fuck am I always being told to be the mature one, why am I the one who should've done better, why do you people expect so much from me. It's the fact people are always quick to say, "no one cares about you, youre fishing for attention" when they're the ones who vague and interact with me while ive been minding my business for months now. Hm. The fact people have me proudly blocked but still harass me anyways shows a lot about themselves than it does for me. How its such an issue that im a minor until it comes to demonizing, tearing down my character, gaslighting, lying and bullying. I'm a literal example of how their friend group manipulates their followers and exiles people from fandoms for not kissing their ass. except now its in your face.

Consider this my last post about this discourse. I'm not going to waste my time on people who fail to digest other peoples thoughts and opinions time and time again because theyre weak narcissists. If I so choose to decide to shit post my opinions or argue with someone, none of you should be aggravated or moved by it because youre not even supposed to be on my page. If its not something serious i will not be wasting energy that i can be using to build on myself as a growing person than on miserable old ladies that have to use fanfiction to have excitement in their pity, depressing and lackluster lives. If people so do choose to create stories or vague about me, I do not care. So I ask respectfully to people who do lurk on my page to not attempt to message, post or vague about me please. This includes sending anons to yourself to make shit happen.

Past that, something got me thinking. My (older) friend had showed me screenshots of adult writers (no one i have spoken to) that were very excited to write underaged reader with adult characters. There are other instances where writers (that you have probably read from) on here openly made reader underage while aging characters up as adults/with adults. There are many more but there's really no point in listing them nor do I really care. But least to say, the same people who are gung-ho over these pedophilic themes/stories are the same people who support predatory people.

I've been thinking about whether or not i should continue writing for the students anymore. Granted, I still think they're attractive because one snap of the fingers cant stop that. I had been teetering on this thought for awhile because of how borderline pedophilic the people are here towards my age group. I enjoy writing but not to the point of willingly being in a straight line of sight where people who are well over 16 are harassing me and lurking on my page, especially to other minors solely because they are my friends. Backtracking to the statement before, I honestly dont know if I will either stop writing or just for the students as a whole. It shows that clearly some people are using their attraction to teens with the excuse that the characters are fake. The rapid normalization on dark problematic "kinks" is disgusting and vile, and the fact that its discourse now to shame said interests is appalling. Concluding that combined with my experiences here, i feel unsafe.

***(TRIGGER WARNING)*** I dont talk about my personal life on here that much cause I dont see the need too nor do i think its anyone's business. Paired with the fact that the people i have trusted personal information with have used it against me, I will be preventing myself from opening that door. Besides that for now, I have sparsely shared I've been assaulted before. This is my first time really opening up about this and i kind of find it necessary now. Coming from someone who has been a victim of assault and CP by people my age and well over, writing nsfw has been the only way where I could feel comfortable with sex in general. I won't get into details because mentioning this is triggering already and can make people uncomfortable. It feels like anywhere I go, I'm constantly putting myself in a position to be abused. The same people who told me I didn't have to worry about my age and be judged for it, exposed the minimum comfort of keeping myself private online to demonize, judge and hurt me. People call me "extra" for being distraught about my face and age being posted because they think im trying to be sneaky which isn't the case. Its the principle that they KNEW I wasnt ready to share said things, and coming from someone who is inherently a private and closed person, she knew damn well what she was doing when posting screenshots of me on Tumblr. There is no excuse for it. The same writers who write dub/non-con can BARELY understand basic consent and its fucking terrifying. This site was the only other place I could cope without being criticized. To see people who some i was close to proudly lie on my name, (adults) say that i sent them pornographic content without their consent is so very hurtful. To watch people supposedly be victims and then use their own trauma to invalidate my own was so fucking humiliating, disgusting and nerve wracking. Although I knew I made the terrible decision to interact with stories, I have never initiated any NSFW discussion with anyone in DMs unless they did it with me first and a few times -- and trust me raise your hand I'll show you the proof. I was sure that everyone I talked to regularly knew that I was a minor, and to my general consensus, people were under the impression I was 15/16 (which I was and am).***

Whether it be victim blaming from the grooming discourse, I've been met with racism, harassment towards my friends, people wanting me to harm myself and be assaulted. I fear what will happen when i will turn 18, if the harassment will escalate and what not. A big part of me is that I'm still here anyways because it pisses people off and I don't care when I receive hate. I can take it but I don't want it. A good conscious of me knows that I should be doing what's best for me but at the end I'm still attached to my ego-self with the added fact that I sincerely enjoy interacting with my followers and posting stories.

I just don't know how the options look. I'll probably be updating my blog rules as of right now. I've been writing more sfw lately because of this and it'd be nice if you guys supported those until I properly decide. I still have plenty of requests of a bunch of characters (mostly Bakugo and Dabi) and original stuff (all sfw & nsfw) that I really wanna share with you guys. But I just ask that what I do modify that you will respect it like you would to any other writer on here.

Stay safe, keep your mask on, and thank you.

#discourse #tw discourse #tw: discourse #sav talks

16 notes · View notes

purplebass · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt 53 please 🥰🧡

Here it is! I hope it’s good, I tried to give my best 😘💜

Title: If They Only Knew Couple: Jesse Blackthorn and Lucie Herondale, Blackdale Prompt: “That wasn’t very subtle.”

“And then, the princess decided that it was time she took the matter into her own hands,” Lucie typed on her typewriter. “She needed to save the prince from his fate, otherwise he would die by the hands of his evil mother. But what could she do, as he lied, motionless, on the cold marble floor of the castle? She could only-”

“Interesting.”

Lucie jumped and looked up, accidentally clicking some buttons and messing up the sheet of paper inside of her writing machine.

“You scared me,” she said, putting her hand on her chest to stop her racing heart. Lately, her heart always beat faster whenever a certain guy was around her, and this time, it was pounding both because of the anxiety and the excitement. She really liked to see that boy around her, and she wondered if it was the same for him. She sighed.

Jesse appeared at the side of her mahogany desk. “I didn’t think a girl who can see ghosts could be easily scared, to be honest.”

“If you appear out of nowhere, she could be,” Lucie protested, then she tried to fix the typewriter. The paper was stuck in the middle of the machine, which meant she had to use another one and rewrite everything she had written over there.

As she adjusted the typewriter, Jesse gazed at her with amusement. Lucie didn’t know, but he took pleasure in seeing her write and in being so lively.

“I sense you’re angry with me,” Jesse said, but his voice was playful, not bitter.

Lucie pouted, trying to keep her stance, but it wasn’t possible. “I am not the resentful type, Jesse. Even if you creep up on me while I write.”

Jesse raised his once dark eyebrows, and he shrugged. “Now I’m creeping up on you,” he told her as he paced around her room, noticing she had quite a lot of books hidden in there, “but you aren’t angry with me.”

He tilted his head and glanced at her. She was still trying to get the sheet of paper out of the damned machine, but it wouldn’t budge. “Ugh,” Lucie complained. “The paper is stuck.”

As if on cue, Jesse moved swiftly until he was by her side. The paper was torn but it was indeed blocked inside the typewriter, and Lucie wasn’t able to get it out so she could go back to her writing.

She glanced about her room, expecting to see him near her bed, but he wasn’t there. She realized he was near her, a hand placed on her desk and his head bent on the typewriter, inspecting the mess she had just created with the crumbled sheet. Jesse turned towards her, and Lucie couldn’t help but be attracted to his green eyes, which were one of the only features of him who still gave him a semblance of a living person and not a ghost.

Lucie’s mouth fell slightly open as if she was startled by the nearness, but at the same time, in awe at the guy’s appearance. He was handsome, and she thought it was just a pity that he was a ghost. She felt sorry for him. He could have been married by now, had kids, living the shadowhunter life he was meant to live or becoming whatever he wanted to be. But he was dead.

“I wish I could help you,” said Jesse, taking her back to reality, and ironically linking his words with the thoughts she was having on him. “But we never had this thing at Chiswick, and I have no idea how it works.”

She nodded and broke the connection, checking the typewriter again. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered,” Lucie assured him, and tried to get back at it, and in the end the sheet was freed from the typewriter. She looked at it grimly. “Finally. But now I have to type it all again.”

“What were you typing, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I was writing The Beautiful Cordelia,” Lucie beamed, rearranging some papers on the furthest side of the desk. “I was about to say how the princess saved the prince from his evil mother. She was about to…” she said, then left her sentence hanging in the air.

“Interesting. What was she about to do?”

“Are you really interested, Mr. Blackthorn?” Lucie wondered, smiling at him, but not actually answering his question. The only people who seemed interested in her writing were her family and Cordelia, and despite they told her she had talent, she had never showed her work to somebody else. “I mean, I could be writing the next best seller, if you ask me.”

Jesse shrugged and sat on the desk. Even if he was almost a shadow, he didn’t lose his spark. He was not tangible, at least for others, but he still carried a strong presence along his translucent body. “You just called me Mr. Blackthorn,” he laughed. “And I’m sure your story is nice. But, haven’t you just said that your character was about to do something? What was it?”

“I called you Mr. Blackthorn because… never mind,” Lucie shook her head and rose from her chair.

“No, now I want to know, Miss Herondale,” he urged with curiosity.

Lucie, who, in the meantime had walked to the center of the room, stopped her anxious pacing and gazed back at Jesse. He still leaned on the desk, but he turned towards her, his hands folded on his long legs.

“Well, aren’t you older than me? You were born one year before my parents got married. There is an 8-year gap between us. If you weren’t dead, you’d be 24 now, Jesse Blackthorn.”

Lucie said that in one go, without stopping for a second to get air in her lungs. She hoped she hadn’t offended him – after all, he was a ghost. Despite the sadness of his situation, she was stating facts. Jesse was born on the same year as Charles Fairchild, her mother once told her, but the children were as different as night and day, despite they both had forest green eyes. Tatiana Blackthorn, Jesse’s mother, didn’t want her brothers Gideon and Gabriel to see her baby. Her aunt Cecily and uncle Gabriel had been disheartened by her choice, especially her uncle, but they couldn’t do anything.

Jesse seemed to mull over what she said, and he waited to give her answer, to the point that Lucie thought she had been rude. Maybe it wasn’t nice to remind a ghost that he stopped aging? Yes, definitely. She was about to say more when she heard him speak.

“I honestly don’t feel that old. I mean, I feel that time passes, but I don’t perceive it the same way the living do,” he explained, staring at the window in front of him. “So, I don’t think you should call me mister. We are the same age. And I thought…” he started, then sauntered to her, his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

Lucie did not move as he approached. “What did you think, Jesse?”

“We are friends, aren’t we?” he inquired with a placid tone.

“Of course, we are,” she assured him, looking delighted to hear so. “Of course, we are friends.”

Jesse beamed, and his eyes seemed to lit up with something Lucie had seen ever so slightly in him, ever since they had started meeting in secret. Hope, comfort. Warmth. How could a person who had been dead for seven long years, exude such glow?

“Marvelous,” he commented, then went to sit on her bed. “Since we’re friends, I expect you to tell me about your problem. About your story, I mean.”

“The problem with my story,” Lucie commenced, “is that I don’t know how to write the scene I was about to write.”

“How so?”

Lucie bit her lip and started pacing her room. “The princess is meant to kiss the prince to save him, since he’s dead,” she said. “Because they are fated and by kissing him, she can revive him”.

She thought how ironic that situation was. She, Lucie Herondale, hadn’t intentionally decided to insert what was happening in her real life into her story. She hadn’t realized it until then, with Jesse sitting on her bed. Jesse was dead, and…

“What is the problem, then?”

“The kiss. The kiss is the problem,” Lucie admitted honestly. She wasn’t shy, but she had to confess that speaking of kisses with a guy her age – he said so, made her cheeks heat. And it didn’t help that they were alone. In her room. At night. She dared to look at him, to see his reaction.

“You’ve never kissed somebody before,” Jesse declared, nonchalant. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it. Pardon me.”

Lucie wasn’t somebody who hid her emotions, and she wouldn’t hide them in front of him. After a minute of deliberation, she decided that honesty, as always, was the best policy. “No, no. I’m not offended. Truly. And… you’re right.”

If Jesse was surprised, he didn’t let it show over his face. His expression remained neutral, tranquil, peaceful. And he was quiet even when he replied her, in contrast with her current mood. She was anxious. Suddenly, her stomach felt empty, as if something was in there. Butterflies?

“With this I can help,” Jesse murmured, grinning. “Or… By the Angel, I’m being too improper tonight, am I? I should just go.”

“No!” Lucie blurted out without thinking, realizing her voice was too loud. “No. Don’t go. I think it would be a nice experiment for me to practice kissing. This way I’ll be able to write it more realistically, even if I doubt Jane Austen or Charlotte Brontë had kissed somebody when they wrote their novels,” she answered him, trying not to appear too enthusiastic about it, even if she was indeed super excited for that moment. Not only because of the kiss, her first kiss, but because of him.

Jesse nodded. “Come here, then,” he patted the spot next to him on her bed. “Or you want to do it standing?”

Lucie tried to keep her mind clear. Focus, she needed to focus. How was better? “It’s better on the bed,” she finally decided, “since my prince is supposed to be on the floor, deceased.”

“Then how about we do it like that? I don’t mind being on the floor,” he proposed.

“Excellent,” she agreed. Jesse, as swift as usual, lied down on the Persian rug she had in front of her bed. She then followed him and sat next to his shadowy body. “Close your eyes, Jesse.”

And he did as he was told. Lucie didn’t know what to do exactly, and she tried to wrack her brain and think about one of her favorite novels. How did the heroine kiss the hero at the end?

She put her hands on the sides of his neck, then dove down onto him, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips on Jesse’s translucent ones. At first, it didn’t happen anything. His lips were soft, not warm but delicate. Then she felt his hand on her back, trying not to impose on her body too much, and his lips started moving slowly on hers. He was doing what she usually did whenever she ate her favorite cake, eating small bites, slowly, savoring each piece with delight to make it last longer. He was gentle, not urgent. It seemed endless, relaxing even, until she heard the door open behind her and she felt as if she was free falling from a cliff. Which was not far from the truth.

She luckily fell on the Persian rug.

“Did you scream earlier, Lu?” her father asked, getting into her room. “And why are you on the floor? Perhaps you fell?” Will wondered, and she could read worry written on his face as he knelt down and touched her head.

“No, papa. I was just mad because a piece of paper stuck in the typewriter, that is all,” she explained, hoping she didn’t have I’ve just been kissed by a ghost written all over her face.

Will glanced at the desk, then at his daughter. “Do you want any help?”

“No, thanks, papa.”

He seemed satisfied of the answer and stood up, offering his hand to her, which she accepted. She hoped that her hand didn’t give her away. It was sweaty.

“But you didn’t tell me why you were on the rug,” he said.

Lucie loved her father, but sometimes he was too… too curious like a cat. Or a child. While this amused her, she didn’t intend to reveal to him that she was alone in her room with a handsome Blackthorn, so she opted for a white lie, which wasn’t completely a lie.

“I was trying a scene for my book. The character faints, so I wanted to describe it well.”

Will nodded, grinning. “Ah, alright, I see, sweet Lu. Be careful.”

“I will, pap,” she agreed as he walked out of her room. “Oh, dad? Can you knock next time?”

“I knocked, Lucie. Three or four times. The fifth time I decided to barge in.”

Lucie was stunned. “Ok, well, then… goodnight, papa. Say goodnight to mom too.”

“Yes, my dear. See you tomorrow,” he said, then closed the door behind him, leaving her alone once again.

She sat on the bed with her hand on her heart and sighed.

“That wasn’t very subtle,” Jesse said, appearing in her room out of the blue for the second time that night. But he wasn’t sitting on her bed with her.

“It was indeed very close,” Lucie agreed, gazing at Jesse. He had a smug face, and he was laughing. “Are you pleased with yourself, Jesse Blackthorn?”

“A person like me rarely lives situations like this anymore,” he confessed. “Let’s be thankful I was a ghost, or your father would have thrown me out of the window.”

“My father? No, I don’t think he would have,” she replied with determination. “But my brother, maybe… and the other Merry Thieves…”

“Who are the Merry Thieves?”

“My other brothers,” Lucie conceded. “I’m the only one who can see you besides your family.”

Jesse nodded, but didn’t answer. She thought he probably didn’t know why she was the only one who could see him besides for Grace and Tatiana, and she hoped to find that out soon.

“Lucie,” he murmured after they stayed in silence for a couple of minutes. “Was the experiment alright? Did you get what you were looking for?”

“It was perfect,” she said, scanning his face to read his expression. He wore his quiet expression like a glove. She wondered if he also felt the same things she did, but didn’t dare to ask him. After all, hadn’t he said he was helping her for her writing research?

“I’m glad.”

“Thanks for the help, Jesse.”

“Anytime, Lucie.”

Lucie smiled at him and then went back to her chair, behind the desk. Now she had to write. “It’s better if I write the scene while it’s still fresh in my mind.”

“I agree,” he answered, approaching het desk with his silent gait. She was loading another sheet of paper in the typewriter when he spoke again. “Lucie?”

She glanced at him, expectantly. “Yes?”

“Can I stay? I mean, I’d love to see you write, if you don’t mind.”

Lucie couldn’t help but smile. Not only she liked the idea, but she also felt a sweet tinge in his voice, as if he was shy to ask her that. “You don’t even have to ask. You can stay anytime.”

“Alright. I’ll be quiet,” Jesse said, and Lucie wondered if he did know how true that statement was about him, but at the same time very wrong. Because despite Jesse was a ghost, a reserved ghost, he also managed to scream something very clear whenever she looked at him.

Jesse wanted to live.

Lucie didn’t know what she could do to help him. For now, she would just reenact their kiss in her writing, pretending for a moment to be The Beautiful Cordelia of her story, the princess kissed by the prince tortured by his evil mother until she could, hopefully, do it for real and for the whole world to see.

#jesse blackthorn #lucie herondale #blackdale #lucie and jesse #lucie x jesse #The Last Hours #chain of gold #my edits #my writing

62 notes · View notes

rosyk · 4 years ago

Text

Devil’s Waltz

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: romance, enemies to lovers, royalty setting

warnings: very uncomfortable moments, mentions of dagger and idea of r*pe or untolerable behaviors

word count: 2.4k

a/n: This was meant to be posted on valentines day but it took longer than I thought because this royal set up was new to me. Have fun reading! (I’d also like to thank you for the 42 likes I’ve gotten on my previous story, ily<3)

“Now’s the time,” I thought as I looked at the sparkly red wine placed on my right hand. I raised an eyebrow and half-smiled at the red ruby jewel on my finger, given by marquis Augustus as a sign of my royalty.

I was wearing a sheer lace flutter sleeve evening gown in shades and tints of plain red. The design only appears at the bottom of its sleeve as the rest goes plain. Unnoticeably, the dark portion of red is found at the bottom line of the dress. The high heels were plain black and I wore little earrings so it wouldn’t stand out as much. This might not be the best dress I could find but I do know it matches me like heaven. My curly messy bun with wavy strands of dark chestnut hair on each side complements the overall outfit.

As soon as I stepped into the grand palace, it was indeed remarkably exquisite. As expected of the Prince who holds precedence above all mankind and even other dukes. How marvelous for an irksome sophomaniac.

I started walking away from people but made sure I was meters near my target. My current target was an overly authoritative noble. This was the very first time I loathed a target. He acted so manly and fine during the day but he was nowhere near there. A hypocrite, to hit girls and threaten them until they agree. A man of immoral character.

I’ve heard rumors of his contradictory personality, but not a single thought had crossed my mind for him to be like that. After all, he was this charming tall guy who’d make you blush as soon as your eyes managed to fall on his. His gentle but respectful touches would make you feel so safe, wrapped in his arms. Sincere words that pique your interest and eyes, as described by innocent maidens, were unique and shimmers even in your darkest hours. It does match his name duke Pisén which is derived from Pissenlit, a french term for dandelions. He was known for having eyes, that show dandelions dancing in the night sky.

However, his worshippers were too incautious to leave with a man-too-good despite no one being around. In fact, dandelions never open at night.

I wore a sweet smile as I walked his way. The other nobles he’s been talking to had noticed me as they signaled him. He turned around, eyes slightly widened, and looked at me in awe.

“The Marchioness of Auclair, here you are!” he chuckled lowly and smiled as he opened his arms as a sign of welcome. He was indeed a duke but treated me so highly as if he won a jackpot. What a dullard.

“Your grace” I showed a smile exact to his liking, innocent and delicate. Now, do I look exactly just like your victims, Pisén? Don’t get too ahead of yourself.

“Great timing, I was just talking to the dukes about you” I felt his lewd eyes staring at me from top to bottom and I swore I saw him pressing his lips. I was taken aback by how he went steps closer to me and held my upper arm, caressing it gently. I wasn’t able to move for a second. Usually, he would give girls the space to show his sincerity but his patience ran out this time. I coughed to clear out my thoughts and continued the plan.

“You look lovely and nice” He spoke out as if it was the best pick-up line he gave. I pressed my lips together to hold out my laughter. Seriously? Was that all he got?

“You too, your grace” I complimented for the sake of respect and that’s just it.

We talked after a few minutes until he let his guard down and drank the wine I held. It was poison, as usual. It wasn’t thrilling but he wasn’t even worth holding my blade. He walked out as he was starting to get dizzy. Oh, how boring. I thought of leaving but a man called out to me with a voice unexpectedly attractive. I turned around and saw a heavenly duke in front of me. Now, he was the real deal.

“What a dainty figure for a dauntless marchioness” the sophomaniac spoke

Arriving at the palace of the duc (duke) is something I have to look out for. He was my target a year ago but I wasn’t able to draw out my blade in his room for he was called out. I still believe he has some suspicions after I had disappeared that night. Though, I had no grudges against him.

My job is simply to kill every noble who has a position greater than mines. My goal? It is to be the duchess of all and the only obstacle I would face would obviously be this guy in front of me. After all, he got the highest position. My mother would say the easiest thing to kill a man is to marry him, either break his heart or legally assassinate him. Honestly, I’ve thought of it as well. But why marry someone I hate? He was born with a silver spoon and had no problems as deeply comparable as mine. He is an egoistic, conceited, and enchanting god, Samuel Hwang.

As I bowed for respect, the music played. It was time for the dance and this was what I was trying to avoid. I looked around people who picked up their partners but most were staring at the figure in front of me.

Although I understand why. No words could describe the ethereal beauty of this blonde duke in a suit.

“A lot of your admirers are staring, so could you please get out of my way and ask-“I cut my sentence off as I was trying to process his doing. He showed his hand in front of me and looked at me in the eye. Oh dear, please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.

“Don’t you think the music played at such a good timing?” He raised an eyebrow and wore a smile. Yes, it was the perfect timing, I rolled my eyes mentally.

“Oh, you do know I’d hate to take this dance” He tilted his chin sideways, silently signaling me a lot of people are watching. I sighed and wore a sarcastic smile. “I feel honored you always love to embarrass me in front of people” I added and took his hand as he led me in the middle.

I know how to dance. In fact, that was a necessity before having a royal title. I also have manners, but he doesn’t deserve to be shown some.

I hate how he was genuinely enjoying it as he loved seeing me look so angry. Ah, how annoying. If it weren’t for the audience, I’d gladly draw my dagger out of my dress and murder this man. We were doing a few waltz steps and turns until I stepped on his shoes.

“You did that with pure will, didn’t you?” His eyes slightly widened and narrowed soon after as he slightly tightened the grip on my back, causing both of us to get a step closer.

“If you gave me enough space and didn’t go beyond the boundaries, I wouldn’t have done that, your grace” I mimicked his smile minutes ago and he was clearly ticked off.

“As they all say, keep your friends close, but enemies closer” The crowd starts to fall out and away from us two dancing, after seeing how close we were. Great, was he trying to make me have more girls holding grudges and death wills on me?

“You’re hurting me” I simply stated to let him know I was desperately wishing to blow this palace up and never see him again.

He acted as if he was thinking and sarcastically remarked “Did I complain when you were trying to kill me in my room for the past year?” He smiled as he knew he made a point. How I wish I could wipe it out and never see it in my life once again. If that happened, that could’ve been the best blessing.

“So you knew?” I questioned as he turned me gracefully around the center while the people watching were in awe. They loved the view, unfortunately not knowing the words spoken with nothing but contrasting emotions.

“How couldn’t I, darling?” the duke replied with a smug look. ”you were as transparent as an open book. Even right now, I could say you’re enjoying this dance with me.” He looked at me, acting so all-knowing as if he had known me for years.

“How flattering for a duke to assume that fast. Just because a girl smiles at you doesn’t mean she’s not planning to visit your grave”

“My, my, how unfortunate for a magnificent lady to have quite an indecent mouth” He lowered his head and chuckled in slightly deep and seductive voice girls would swoon over.

“So you do think I’m magnificent?” I backfired and went closer to him, wearing a smug look.

“Oh, I’ve always told you how much I find you beautiful, darling” He went closer until our faces were inches apart. I froze for a few seconds and stared at his eyes, a pity for him to be such a beauty. I found a smirk in his face and that like-what-you-see look which made me go back to earth seconds later.

“Your cocky smirk makes me want to pass away and never see you again, your grace” I smiled sarcastically for only god knows how many times in this day, as I sighed, trying to calm myself down.

“Be my guest then” I rolled my eyes and purposely stepped on his foot once again. “I’m sorry, I’m not used to dancing with someone who’s self-centered and conceited” I emphasized the last 3 words and told him in a low volume, whispering.

“How offensive,” he was simply entertained seeing me so irritated.

“Pardon me once again, I wasn’t aware you were offended by facts. Who wouldn’t want to jump off a cliff after seeing you?”

“But what’s the hold up for, darling? Why wouldn’t you jump off? Do you want me to be the one who will have to push you? I would be pleased to do so”

“If only you knew your grace Hwang, before you could even manage to push me off a high building, I would be the first who’ll come at you”

“Oh really? Because as what I knew, you weren’t able to kill a target last year”

“Someone called you out so you were really lucky” I gripped his hand to calm myself down and to know how much he had pissed me off. In return, he just shot an amusing smile as he looked at both of our hands.

“Just admit that you enjoy dancing with me. In fact, you love the view you’re seeing right now.” I rolled my eyes with a smile after his statement.

“Who would love dancing with the devil? I don’t but I do love having your throat slit and body 6 feet below the ground”

“Brutally fierce, I like that” he winked at me as I stared at him in confusion. Is he mentally unstable? What the hell do I do if I was actually dancing with a lunatic duke?

“But we both know you couldn’t seriously do that” he replied as he held my hand and twirled me around “because why so didn’t you kill me beforehand when we spent several hours in the room? My servant arrived very late in fact. You could’ve had lots of time with no worries. ”he held my back, causing our bodies to press together after the turn. The audience’s eyes had widened and most of them clapped.

My sarcastic smile faded and shifted into a frown. He was surprised by how serious I was with just a statement that he assumed I would take as a joke. I was about to leave the ball but he held my wrist with a startled look. It just took seconds but staring into his eyes made it feel like forever. I stared at him with pure anger and hatred. Something in what he said triggered me.

The facts he spoke infuriated me. Why didn’t I kill him right after the moment? Was it pity? Guilt? I was raised to kill people higher than me so why should I feel guilty? Or was I indeed pity of him when he trusted me? Trust doesn’t belong between enemies.

He got the hint and smiled like he knew everything. “With the way you’re behaving, I would assume you’re madly in love with me” He held his grip on my hand tighter but in a way that it doesn’t hurt.

I tried to clear out my expressions and anything I’m thinking about because he knew me so well even after just little late-night talks. “With the way you’re talking I could assume it was you, with me. But I do know that you’re not, aren’t you, your grace?” I raised my eyebrow and smiled. Though the way I spoke came out as if I was trying to defend myself from the way he’s making me feel and reassured myself nothing’s going to happen.

I recognized the music playing and it was near the last part of Old Russian waltz Sorrow, the last song. It means I had unknowingly been dancing with him for already more than 30 minutes. To think I wasn’t fond of dancing around people, why did I lose track of time?

He led and twirled me around as he smiled “who says I’m not, darling?” I stopped breathing for a second and instinctively held the dagger attached to my leg near the slit. Except, the dagger wasn’t there anymore.

He took me before I could even comprehend the situation. Have I lost it while I was busy talking to Pisén? Or was I waltzing? But I remembered I brought it. Panic arose me and my mind stopped working. Or what if-

We danced a few steps of the fast waltz and he turned me around. He lifted my leg slightly aligned below his hip, making me hold onto his neck and lay on his large hands supporting my back as soon as the last music stopped. He showed me the dagger, making sure others didn’t see him.

“Looking for this?” I was left shocked and as I was about to explain myself, he grinned like a cute kid to make people unsuspicious of all that’s happening. As soon as he leaned and whispered in my ear, his aura changed and I felt the goosebumps. I could feel how cold yet playful he was. He smirked mischievously as he spoke with a deep voice,

“I’m not letting you off this time, milady”

8 notes · View notes

caprina-mints · 4 years ago

Note

Can I make a request-? A s/o that ask her boyfriend how it feels to kill-? You can make anyone but include Toby cause I'm a simp for him

I decided to Just do Toby for you! :D it turned into a oneshot instead so Enjoy! 😜❤ this is gonna get Fluffy with a hint of Dirty thoughts 😜

Asking Toby how it feels to Kill

✂ The day went on as usual and you were at home binge watching new series in Netflix when the door slammed open and your twitching boy came walking in the clear stain of crimson blood decorating his sweater. If you were the person you were back then you'd be pretty damn terrified but after spending so much time with this adorable killer of yours it's kinda impossible to be scared of him now that he's revealed a more goofy side of him.

He was tired by the way he's groaning with his shoulders slumped. Standing up from your position you approached him and wrapped your arms around him from behind your hand resting on his chest.

Feeling your presence behind him and how your arms welcomed him even though he was covered with filthy blood eased a small portion of his stress, knowing he always has a warm home to come back to with someone who always welcomes him with love.

You heard him relax and a small sigh escaped his lips . Standing on your tippy toes you gave a small peck on his nape . He was aware of your teasing and you could see his ears turn a small tint of red.

" Y/n I-im c-c-covered with Blood you'll get Dirty " He muttered trying to pry your hands off him embarrassment showing from his actions and by how he stuttered.

" Well I needed a bath anyway " You grinned your arms only tightening their hold around his chest.

" Y-you can go f-first " He spoke in a timid tone making you laugh.

" Toby we can always take a bath together you know... To save water " He could feel your smirk from behind him and he was silent for a few moments.

When you took a small peek on his face you saw how his face was red .

Aww your baby was shy ...

How can he have the guts to be shy when he has the will to fucking rut into you like a starved animal when you two are doing 'it'.

You don't understand this boy sometimes .

" W-well i-if you insist " He managed to squeak out and you dragged him upstairs to the bathroom , he was pretty silent the whole time his face still red.

Cute~

To his surprise everything was ready. The Tub was filled with warm water, there we're candles near the Tub, the water smelled great because of the lavender...It was as if you planned everything beforehand and he didn't want to ruin the mood by asking how you did everything.

Well... Not like he had the chance to because you were already throwing your clothes on the laundry basket completely catching him off guard...

You were definitely getting bolder and bolder by the time you spent with him. It's overwhelming sometimes but gosh seeing your body radiating with confidence in front of him was a real turn on. You were beautiful in every angle and how you stand in front of him like that was really tantalizing. Your heart, your Body... It belongs to him and with those thoughts filling his mind he could feel the sins crawling up his back and the devil whispering in his ear to just fucking shove bend you down and fuck you.

But he wanted to enjoy this moment so he tried his best to restrain himself by thinking of stuff that could turn him on because with one glance at you he couldn't stop himself from getting hard.

" What are you waiting for? Strip already" You stated hopping inside the Tub and letting out a sigh once the warm water hugged your body with gentleness and warmth.

Toby was in a daze. How could someone so kind... Accepting and loving become his? It was either because the gods pitied him or out of sheer luck alone.

" Sweetie come on " You cooed and Toby snapped out of his thoughts and stared at you before finally deciding to strip his clothes and put them in the laundry basket.

God it took him so much self control to look away from your body because once he gets hard... Well by the time he's done with you all the water in the tub are going to be spilled out leaving the tub empty.

Well you'd be lying if you said your jaws didn't drop for a second there. But you regained your composure while mentally praising this Baby boy of yours.

Opening your arms you gestured for him to get in.

He obliged to your request and you welcomed him by resting his head on your chest which supports as a pillow and you started massaging his head gently.

Soft sighs escaped his lips and a small smile can be seen from your angle.

" You're perfect " He suddenly blurted out of nowhere making you blush and chuckle.

" I'm not perfect Baby but you can bet my life I'm the perfect match for you " You threw a flirty remark and he started laughing at your cheesy words.

His hands rested on your knee stroking your knee as he closed his eyes enjoying your massage.

Then your thoughts started racing through your mind and without thinking much you questioned him something you've been wondering for a long time now.

" Toby . .. How does it feel to Kill? " Your sudden question got him to tense up because he honestly didn't know how to answer.. If he's being honest with you there's a big chance he'd scare you off and if he lies you'd catch on immediately and you'll get angry.

After a few minutes of Pondering he gave up with a sigh and just answered your question honestly.

" ... I can't say I e-enjoy it but I c-can't say I don't like it either. It's kinda in between... It feels good to have something to lash out on... E-especially if that person is bad... B-But sometimes I get m-missions to kill innocent people and I don't feel too good about it... I feel guilty but I know I should move on fast. But at the same time... K-killing satisfies an unknown urge inside me... It fills an empty v-void in my heart... " He answered and you were surprised to hear him answer in a deeper level than you expected.

You thought he'd answer with a ' I dunno ',or ' it's fun' . You didn't expect to hear him open up like this .

" Hmm... Fair enough some people deserve it and it's not like you chose to kill those innocent people you were ordered to so it's technically not your fault because you were just doing your job" You replied and this time he was the one who was surprised.

He thought you'd be disgusted and leave him or even push him away and scream in terror calling him a cruel monster but instead you took time to listen and understand him. How'd he get someone as good as you? It was near impossible for him to suddenly receive something as good as you.

" Y-you're not scared of me?... Y-you still love me? " He asked by the end of the sentence his voice cracked making you frown and kiss his head hugging him.

" Of course I'm not scared of you dummy and don't you ever think I'd stop loving you because of that. Toby you're the best thing that ever happened to me and if I leave you because of such a stupid reason then I must be the dumbest person alive " You muttered and he felt a euphoric wave push away the negative thoughts he had before and he was a bit emotional knowing you'd still love him even though he isn't much of a good guy.

Turning around from his position he caught your lips with his in a sweet and passionate kiss.

Once he pulled away he pressed his forehead against yours a smile forming on his lips before muttering.

" I love you y/n"

" Love you too Tobes"

#Creepypasta Fluff #Fluff Oneshot #Fluff #Oneshot #Creepypasta Oneshot #Ticci Toby #Tobias Erin Rogers #Toby #y/n #Ticci Toby Oneshot #Toby Oneshot #s/o

41 notes · View notes