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carmyberzattosjournal · 29 days ago

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S2 Entry 2: Soothe the Goosebumps

Image credit: @neverscreens

Summary: Carmy’s girlfriend (who he calls Darling) soothes him down from an impending panic attack with apple cubes. (1346 Words) FLUFF.

Warnings: Swearing, hurt, comfort, fem reader/lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns, finger sucking (light), impending panic attack (panic attack doesn’t happen), praise kink, feeding kink?, subby!Carmy. Mentions of Donna Berzatto.

Notes: Thank you for reading and sharing! This is a work in CB Journals Season 2 and will be tagged with #cb journals s2.

Sideblog for commentary and social stuff: @m-z-shoroi

Prompt: String Lights

“Do you not decorate for Christmas?” she asked. “Not even string lights or a mini tree?”

No. Fuck Christmas.

The silence, and the subsequent recoil evident on her face when I looked up from the apple I was dicing, is what told me I’d said that aloud. My stomach flipped. Hands abruptly turned cold for some reason. Heat flooded into my face.

I can’t even begin to explain to you the biblical level of shit I was in that week. That whole month, honestly. The review didn’t go well—we weren’t given our star, which meant that not only did all my bullshit that I pulled in the restaurant after having that mental fucking breakdown after the walk-in incident severely strain all my interpersonal relationships, it also did fuck all to give us any sort of results. If we’d gotten the star, then maybe, maybe, it would’ve stung just a little less. The wounds haven’t gone away—the repeated flare-ups of fighting between Sugar, Richie, Syd, and me are evidence of that—but the star would’ve been salve on the cuts. Maybe taken away some of the burn. No, it just redoubled everyone’s rage at me (including my own. I was getting dangerously close to hating myself more than I hate the fucking Devil at this point). So, the burst of fighting at the top of November turned into all-out war for the rest of the month. We’d found something of a balance before—minus the flare-ups—where I’d do a new menu every month using seasonal ingredients. I’d be mindful of what the kitchen staff could do, Syd and I would actually properly collaborate on them, so she didn’t feel voiceless (even if working with another person drove me fucking insane sometimes), and Richie and I would, generally, as much as we both could corral our familial trauma, try to stay out of each other’s way. Sometimes even get along a bit.

“Carmy?”

Now? Now I lost all fucking control of my restaurant. Syd and I were battling over the menu because even when accounting for her notes, she wanted to scrap whatever I did. Richie was so far out of my grasp that Sugar maintained a demilitarized zone between us, acting as the Secretary of State—or I don’t know, a fucking messenger pigeon—bringing things back and forth, all while trying not to (and failing on multiple occasions) explode at either of us for our bullshit. And it was bullshit. We’re fucking adults, I keep trying to act like a fucking adult and get a handle on myself so this doesn’t fucking happen again—I’m in therapy, for fuck’s sake!—and yet Richie and Syd insist on being fucking children about it.

In retrospect, I don’t blame Syd. If your coworker spiraled off the fucking deep end, and all you got out of that was the trauma of surviving that spiral, would you even want to fucking look at them again? She worked her ass off to make The Bear what it is, she put stock in her own identity as a chef, and wants, more than anything, to be able to take pride in her work.

I said I wouldn’t stand by and let her do to herself what I did to me, right?

Am I not her Devil?

So here we are, December three days away, still without a fucking menu.

“Baby? Sweetheart? Hey.”

Shit. Shit. Fuck. I dropped the knife onto the cutting board. “S-sorry. Sorry, I-I should explain—”

“I just wasn’t expecting such a strong reaction.” She held her hands up, palms out towards me. “It’s okay. It just caught me by surprise is all.”

“Christmas-Christmas is fucking traumatizing.” Why did it come out like a question? It’s a fact. It was fucking traumatizing. I closed my eyes, trying to retreat to the quiet dark, where it’s stable, where it’s safe. “My-my mom, she would, uh, she would do this-this big feast. Seven Fishes... And it was-it was always such a fucking disaster. And-and she would always explode at the tiniest thing. I-I hate fucking Christmas and New Years a-a-and-and fucking birthdays. Fuck birthdays.”

Something burned in my chest. A deep sort of fiery sting that took me two heartbeats to recognize as stomach acid bubbling into my esophagus. I grasped at the pain as if I could somehow get ahold of it and remove it from me, could toss it away like a wet paper towel, but all I found was the front of my apron.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay.” Oh no, Darling sounded worried. I fucking hate when I worry her. I pried my eyes open and found her expression contorted in concern, eyebrows scrunched together, corners of her mouth turned down. “What’s wrong? Pain? Nausea?”

I tried talking, but I couldn’t produce sound past the hot iron burning my insides. Blindly reached for the quart of water and chugged a few sips down. It provided some relief initially, but the flames came right back.

“Hold on.” She rifled around the cabinet above my head and pried off the lid of the baking soda container. Put two pinches in the quart. Swirled it. “It’ll taste weird, but it should help.”

Metallic. Metallic, bitter, kind of salty? Like I licked a dirty penny or something. Weird doesn’t sum it up, it’s fucking disgusting. She rubbed up and down my sternum as I gulped this vile concoction down.

“It’s a base, it’ll help neutralize the acid,” she explained. “Just take little sips until the burning stops.” I’m sure she knew I understood the logic, but I appreciated her talking to me anyway. It was comforting. Something to focus on. Something to drown out the memories of ma’s yelling bubbling away in the back of my head.

Goosebumps exploded on my arms when I took another gulp of the baking soda water. It just kept getting worse. Now the weird taste was lingering on my tongue well after the water was gone, but my chest still burned like a brand was on it. Darling rubbed her hands up and down my forearm, trying to soothe the goosebumps away.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

I responded too slowly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Not even giving me this horrible shit; it was helping the heartburn.

“No, about the whole…” she gestured in a wide circle. Ah. About Christmas and shit. Got it. “It’s gotta be tough. With. How much those things are engrained in society and all.”

I shrugged a shoulder. Grimaced and got another wave of chills on the next sip of baking soda water. She picked up an apple cube and pressed it to my lips. It wasn’t meant to be an intimate gesture—I’m getting better at reading her face and knowing what the intention behind anything she does is—but something deep in my core tightened and warmed when she fed me the morsel of apple, when the tip of her finger rested just a second too long on my lips. I must’ve had a certain look on my face because she made the cute little cooing sound that meant she figured something out. Cupped my face with her other hand. Stroked my cheek.

“That better, pretty boy?”

She brought another apple cube to my lips, kept her eyes locked on mine—this piercing gaze halfway between interrogative and fascinated, like she was a cat observing a new toy, trying to figure out how to pounce on it. My navel flooded with heat, dick twitched in my sweats. Half of me wanted to shrink in place, become tiny and insignificant, small enough to fit in her pocket like a pathetic but endearing pet. The other half of me got lost in her eyes, in those shimmering river stones, in the perfect architecture of her eyelashes, as if admiring a fine work in some pretentious fucking museum somewhere. She let me suck the tip of her thumb clean. Dragged it slowly over my tongue.

I nodded. Yes. Yes, it’s better.

The fuck was I even stressing about before?

Tags: @carmenberzattosgf @jess248 @catharticconsolation @persymons @morgthemagpie @glitch0o0 @nox-is-thename @forgechildofheph @leminjelly @fridavacado @lumoslemon @cyarskj1899

#cb journals s2 #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fluff #the bear

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thebadboyfanclub · 2 years ago

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The Man You Deserve (Aegon x Reader)

This was requested by @ksuumin : Okay, I have one!! Aegon is heavily drinking and is found by his betrothed, she takes him back to the red Keep and gives him a bath, during the bath he has a slight mental breakdown and she comforts him and is all fluffy. Enjoy, this was so fun to write btw

I would suggest listening to “everything I wanted” by billie relish or “line without a hook”

When (y/n) Hightower was informed that she would be wed to prince Aegon she almost passed out, she was set to travel to kings landing and meet with her cousin Queen Alicent, she hadn’t seen her cousin since princess Rhaenyras wedding.

When she arrived at the Keep she was greeted by a warm hug from the Queen and cousin Alicent who kept apologising for her son Aegon not being here to welcome her. (Y/n) smiled politely and nodded even though she was close to crying, her instinct kept warning her about her future marriage.

She had heard stories about her betroth, how prince Aegon spend most of his time at the Silk Road and hydrated with wine instead of water, a future with a lord husband that had those kind of habits was unstable and frightening to her, yet she put on a brave face and appeared unfazed but at night she would kneel in front of the candles and pray to mother for a happy marriage.

“What seems to be the problem?”

She questioned the young lady that stood in front of her. The girl did not meet (y/n)s gaze, she instead chose to look at her feet while her hands were clasped behind her back.

“Prince Aegon seems to be missing, he hasn’t been seen since he broke his fast on the morrow”

“Does the queen know about this?”

“Not yet my lady, Ser Criston has yet to decide if they should send guards to search for him”

“Very well, thank you for your information elina”

Before she could let her thoughts eat her alive, she ran outside her room to meet her sworn guard

“Ser Helias, show me the way to kings landing”

“My lady, you are not allowed to leave the keep at such late hour”

“You are sworn to me are you not? We must find my betroth before Ser Criston gets a hold of him”

The long legged man hesitated before he scoffed and nodded. (Y/n) smiled even if the guard did not whole heartedly agreed to this. As they got past the main gate it didn’t take long to find prince Aegon passed out just few meters away from the Red keep.

“Is he alive?”

(Y/n) asked the guard. As the man leaned into the passed out Aegon he placed his hand underneath the Princes nose for a minute.

“He is breathing”

“Very well, give me a hand”

As she grabbed Aegon by his one arm her guard grabbed the other and lifted him up in unison, their pull resulted in earning a grunt from the clearly intoxicated and rather smelly prince.

“Am I dead?”

“Unfortunately not my prince”

She couldn’t hold the sour comment any longer, she had grown tired of his antics on the other hand the situation of having to search for him brought her a new wave of anxiety for his safety.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing?”

“Carrying you”

She responded shortly. Aegon tried to open his eyes and look in her direction, seeing her lips pursed and her eyebrows scrunched together as she held on to him and mildly grunt under his weight made the feeling of embarrassment grow as it slowly took over his entire body.

He had attempted to remain sober in her presence, firstly to avoid the scoldings of his mother, second was that he did not wish for her to see him like this, drunk and dirty. She was his betroth, the woman that would eventually carry his children, the lady that would accompany him until the end of their days, that new sense of responsibility was foreign to him, how could he grow up to step up as a good husband and father when he didn’t have a good example of it?He had already failed before they even got to the wedding ceremony.

The walk back to the keep was not long still it was far enough for (y/n) to start huffing and puffing, she wasn’t a woman of petite frame moreover carrying a man up countless of stairs was an activity she was not prepared for. As they approached her chamber of Aegon (y/n) instructed her guard to stay outside, fortunately she was still capable to prepare a bath for the prince and with hesitation she stripped him off his clothes.

“I never thought this would be the way you would see me naked sweet (y/n)”

“Hush now, don’t make this worst than it already is”

She shot him down, her irritation clear as day in her tone, he could almost see the anger radiating off of her though oddly enough her touch was careful and gentle. She made sure to carefully assist him to step in the tub and even ask him if the water is warm enough for his liking.

Aegon observed her as she picked up a sponge and kneeled next to the tub in order to clean him properly all while the silence between them was comforting, this was the most genuine affection Aegon got in years, as the sponge glided on his body he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch as much as he could.

“Do you hate me?”

He spontaneously inquired before he gulped, anticipating a positive answer like he always got. (Y/n)s movement came to a halt as she was caught off guard by the topic of his question. She let out a deep breath before (y/n) regained her composure and kept on with her task.

“I do not loathe you my prince, I’m afraid my feelings for you are more complexed than that”

She explained with a voice so sweet he wished he could put it in a bottle and drink it. He turned to look at her, making a slight motion at the water as some escaped and fell on the ground, he gripped on the white tub like a small kid and eyeballed her like a small child. She smiled at the sight of him, (y/n) had never seen him so vulnerable, so true.

“Explain then”

“How could I explain… I believe you choose to self soothe and numb yourself with alcohol in order to avoid your emotions, from what I have observed you had to grow up in an environment where others expected you to be as wise, poised and skilled as an old maester, warrior and king before you even made your first step”

(Y/n) expressed her opinion and as they beheld one another (y/n) started to notice Aegons eyes fill with tears. She was shocked for a moment before she reached for his cheek, a touch that Aegon accepted and didn’t know he needed until he felt the warmth of her flesh on his.

“It’s alright Aegon, you can confide in me”

With that Aegon bursted into a full crying fest, as his entire body shook from the sobs and tears washed over his face, he was crying loudly and the emotion was so raw that anyone with a heartbeat would crumble at the scene that was painted.

(y/n) could not sit still, it was like watching a wounded animal mourn, yet there was no bleeding on the outside even though (y/n) was sure his souls was scattered in pieces, making him bleed internally for all these years.

(Y/n) got on her feet and placed her hands on his arms so she can pull him up, wrapping his lower body with a white towel before guiding him to his bed. Aegon kept crying even when his body hit the soft mattress, his hands covering his face to prevent her from seeing him like this, her words had such impact on him that he could not control himself, he just cried and cried to the point that even breathing was hard.

(Y/n) did not pressure him to put on any clothing on him, she let him keep the towel as she simply lifted the sheets and covered him, making sure his head laid comfortably on the pillows as he cried. She had observed him for days, she could always detect the sadness and pain he felt almost every day, such tragedy that (y/n) wanted to steal away from him, eat the darkness so he can finally breathe freely.

As Aegon let his emotions show he felt a pair of arms wrap around him and get close, he was being embraced, her hug was like a breath after staying underwater for so long, her presence was better than milk of the poppy, her scent was more pleasant than any flower, (y/n) was his fate, his sanctuary.

Immediately Aegon brought her as close as humanly possible, (y/n) remained silent and stoic as she felt every hiccup, every sob, she imagined this what it would feel if she was a rock while the waves of the ocean smacked it, a violent act that was not intended to harm her yet it cut deep. She wanted to do more even though this was for the best, he needed to let his sadness flow, like a cathartic ritual a cleanse of every emotional burden he was holding.

“Do you feel better Aegon?”

He gradually calmed down while (y/n) patiently waited for him to settle down, she brushed his blonde hair in a way to help him come down of his breakdown. He clung onto her with all the strength he could gather until he stopped sobbing all together, he looked up at her with bloodshot eyes and a puffy face, (y/n)s heart clenched at the sight of him, the damaged prince that was just a big child whom yearned for affection, for love.

“I’m sorry”

“Do not apologise, we are to be wed, what kind of lady wife would I be if I left you at such a vulnerable moment?”

Her kind smile brought him such comfort, he finally understood what it meant to have a partner…. A home even.

“I want us to be happy my love”

“Then you must try, do you promise to try for me? For us?”

It almost sounded like (y/n) begged, if you asked her she would say that she was. This was a small ray of sunshine for a bright future, she must grab the new opportunity and hold on to it with all her might. Aegon raised up a little to be at the same eye level as her, his fingers gracing her cheek in such tenderness, it was like he was afraid that she would float away if he reached for her, like a dream that he would soon be rudely awakened by.

“I swear it on the gods, I will become the man you deserve”

Requests are open!

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erivalle · 1 year ago

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Just got to rant about a conversation with my mother. If you read just consider this a general trigger warning. Kind of an avalanche of brief mentions of my issues.

"You didn't get rebellious until your early 20s"

Thanks mom. It definitely wasn't the onset of bipolar disorder and finally being out of the house of Mr slamming plates and cabinets to show anger and Mrs "if your dad and I divorce I'm taking you and your brother to north carolina". Yea a mental breakdown leading to me being a college drop out is comparable to teenage rebellion. Not just me being out of a toxic home environment and mismedicated. Definitely wasn't that. Just early 20s teenage rebellion. Not semitraumatic life events and a mental health decline. I just felt like being rebellious.

Which I don't even know what she perceives was rebellious about that time. Like my mental break was not me 'acting out' against my parents. It was a combination of stress of failing certain classes and being set back a year, losing my social circle, being on the wrong medication, and a few other things all piling together. Not me deciding to finally act out from a safe distance of 2 hours away. I didn't graduate and moved back in with dad and decided not to move in with her across the country. That's not rebellion that's me realizing how close to the edge I was and needing a change of pace to get my head on straight and deciding a familiar environment would be best. It just took me several years but hey moving in the right direction now.

And while we are at it no my lack of a romantic partner isn't due to trauma from yall divorcing or some assault I never reported (thanks dad though for asking gently if the reason Im not going on dates . It's due to different trauma. Lol got a love anxiety and issues and insecurities relating to my asexuality. And where the fuck am I supposed to meet anyone? I have one friendship I have managed to maintain over the years and I live with her. I am a massive flake with a lot of baggage and that's not conducive to maintaining a new relationship.

I am renting in a new house, just got a new job that I start with on Monday, I think I'm doing ok. Going from suicidal with an eating disorder (side note: love dad saying that I looked my best at the time that I was at least a year into disorded eating, in his defense he still doesnt know I even had an eating disorder), to medicated and managing my mental health and eating better, is great. Not where I could be but a million times better.

Like wtf mom. Way to hit a touchy subject in front of your best friend and my grandmother. Unintentionally hitting a sore spot, but really shows her interpretation of me suffering an extended crisis. And her utter unawareness to how much of an impact my childhood made to my early adulthood. And how twisted she and dad made my childhood. The fact that I held it together enough for it to only show in my early 20s is damn impressive. And the fact that certain things still impact how I react to certain situations (like my roommates fighting) really emphasizes how formative even small things were.

Wasn't late onset teenage rebellion. And way to go for the throat, great aim.

#erin's little thoughts

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thecameronchronicles · 2 years ago

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Breakdown

TW: Slight degrading. Smut. Language. Semi public sex.

SUMMARY: Your car breaks down and the absolute LAST person you’d ever want to help is the only person who can…

WORD COUNT: 2100

*Original Concept*

Breakdown

The day couldn't possibly get any worse. Cheeks stained from tears of frustration, you found this just another reason to allow them to fall. Having begun the day with a text from your current fling to tell you he was bored with you, which was more a gain than a loss for many reasons, you now held the weight of being unemployed at your fingertips wrapped tightly around the steering wheel. All because you defended yourself in front of a handsy client who was more interested in what was under your dress than for you to help him pick out a suit at the boutique. And now, this. The less than reliable car that had now failed you somewhere between The Cut and Figure Eight, where you were led in your absent-minded driving. You allowed yourself the momentary mental disbanding by beating against the steering wheel and cursing every word that came to mind, before deciding being proactive was more beneficial.

Hiking up the hood of your car, using the flashlight from your phone for illumination beneath the rain coming down in sheets, your eyes scanned for any indication and even quick fix to your car. But with biting more than the knowledge of how to change a spare tire, you were left staring at the serpentine mechanics.

"Need some help there, princess?" A familiar voice sent your nerves to shrivel and grate against one another. You were wrong, this day COULD get worse...

You would only ignore him as he set his weight against your car, having already assessed the problem while you acted as if you knew, leaning forward and using your light as if you held masterful knowledge of what was a novice, at best.

"Do you-"

"I've got it!" You snapped, not caring to show any form of politeness as JJ Maybank was everything you hated about the South side. Not even because he was a pogue, as most of them were nice enough. But he was the exception. This was because he made you an exception. He flirted with everyone else. Not that you minded. Right?!

"If you keep pretending to know what you're doing, you're gonna end up getting hypothermia or pneumonia or something else ending in -ia-"

You rolled your eyes as you turned back to your car.

"You and I both know I can dismantle and reassemble this car before you could even tell me where your engine is-"

"You are so glib-" He ignored your choice of insult as he continued to talk over you.

"Just hold the light so I can get you on your way back to Kooklandia where you belong." He would bend over your, your eyes fixating to the tight rope-like lines of his muscles as he was effortless in his motions. It was clear he was knowledgeable of all things with mechanics as he moved about in focus. It would have been admirable if you didn't find his features infuriating.

"Looks like you're fucked." You rolled your eyes to his classic vulgarity, yet another reason you were like oil and water.

"Excuse me? Aren't you supposed to help?"

"Not all of us are at the beckon call to all your Kook problems. The storm flooded your engine, so you've gotta wait it out..." He forced your hood closed as you shook your head.

"No, there HAS to be another way! I am not staying here with you!" You would try your car’s engine, only hearing it taunt you in being, what seemed to be, dead.

"Be my guest...believe me, I don't want the stick up your ass to ruin any of my furniture...but if you wanna get sick, doesn't affect me..."

You groaned as he moved into the shed beside The Chateau in having been alone without the other pogues as they lived out the storm. John B and Sarah were tucked away at Tannyhill, Kie was working, and Pope was with his family. It was the one time you wished they were all together. But now you were stuck with JJ.

"What are you doing on this side anyway?"

"I didn't come here for you if that's what you're getting at." You shot back, pulling yourself into a hug to try and warm the tremors caused by the freezing rain as he would toss you a blanket with violent indifference before returning to the engine of his bike that you'd interrupted.

"Just trying to make conversation. Thought it would make you being here a bit more tolerable..." He glared to you over his seat. "Guess I was wrong...That’s impossible…"

"Not that I owe you anything, but I just took a wrong turn, okay? I would rather be anywhere else with anyone else than to be here with you, trust me...."

"What? One of your boyfriend's choose golf over you again? Some girl have the same dress? Someone take your reservation because you were too busy admiring yourself in the mirror to-"

"What the hell is your problem with me?" You asked moving onto your feet. "I don't want want be here anymore than you want me to be, but I am because you can’t fix my car!"

"What exactly am I supposed to do? Syphon the water out of your engine? I'm not a magician, and doing that could literally kill me."

"Then please, try-"

"You know what..." He tossed his wrench to the floor, a metallic cling left behind in the steps made towards you.

"Every single one of you from Figure Eight think you have everything, but you'd be nothing without us pogues. We might have to work our assess of, might even get dirty doing it, but at least we can change a tire or park our own cars without needing someone else..."

"I can change my own tire!"

"If only that was your problem, I wouldn't have to deal with you!" He was so close to you that you could feel his chest brush against your own with each of his heaving breaths. And you would be this way for only a fraction of a second before the tension became too much for you. In the moment you attempted to rebuttal, however, his lips took you by surprise as you were offered a single set of three kisses, each one angrier than the last, before he retracted.

You didn't need a promise of him calling you tomorrow or the need to know this meant more. You just needed his lips again. You just needed the distraction his reputation vowed to you. That this would be dirty and deep, a diversion from your hellish day and the contradicting heaven that his kiss gave you. Because of this, you would instigate a second kiss before being lifted onto the work table beside a series of tools swept there to set you.

"You say anything even slightly bitchy and I'll make you mute by coming so far down your fucking throat nobody will have to deal with your whining for days, maybe even a week-" Your eyes widened as his hand pulled your jaw towards him, a deep kiss turning French before his second hand pulled the button of your shorts free.

"You like being degraded there sweetheart? Make you nice and wet for how hard you know I'm about to fuck you." You could only swallow hard as he drove that hand back to your jaw, making you look at him.

"If I didn't want you to answer me, I'd have you on your knees...still might-"

"Please-"

"You don't wanna be on your knees? Don't wanna bruise your skin for a pogue, huh? Doesn't Doesn't fair with how dirty you make us get..." He forced your hand into his own shorts.

"How hard those little bikinis you wear have gotten me fired from two jobs already from making me mess up...So you're gonna make it up to me-" You were taken around him for just a second so he could pull your shorts around your ass, and leave you in only your panties.

"Think I'm gonna keep these-" He tore each side before leaving your ass bare on the counter beneath you, "On my bike and take a victory lap around Figure Eight, taking a piece of you with me. But not before..." He removed his pants before leading his cock between your folds.

"You leave something behind for me...See if I can't make a princess squirt..." Your eyes rolled as he forced them back open with a harsh grip of your neck and hair.

"Spit." He ordered as you obliged before be gave one firm thrust into your sex.

"Fuck-" His hand now wrapped around your throat.

"If you whine for anything but my cock...you don't get to come at all..." You nodded, beneath him in consensual submission as he began to motion into you. Slow thrusts made quick and brutal as your hands came into the muscles that had taunted you since you first saw him at the Boneyard party in junior high. Of course, he'd nurtured them since then, but now they were on display for you.

"Careful sweetheart, might break a nail." He teased as you arched your back as he joined this curve, continuing to thrust as you were laid back onto the table.

"How can you feel this good, hmm? How am I supposed to work on anything in this garage ever again when I'm gonna have THIS to think about?" He asked, rising between the two of you and allowing a string of spit to now settle on your clit.

"Know what? Think I was wrong about your Kooks. Just need to be fucked hard is all, right?" You only arched from his motions, ones that stilled when you didn't respond.

"Tell me!"

"Yes! Fuck me, JJ!" He scoffed.

"Perfect little princess getting stuffed by JJ Maybank...bet you thought you were better than that, huh?" You clenched your jaw as his thumb ran quick flicks over you, making you convulse.

"But no Kook cock can get you shaking like this can they?"

"No!"

"Why's that?!"

"It's SO good!"

"Shit..." He clenched his teeth. "Turn the fuck around...wanna see that ass bounce for me..." You obeyed, allowing him the control to turn you, before you felt him penetrate once again.

"Even better..." He pulled your hair back towards him.

"Yes, JJ! Please!"

"You wanna come?"

"Please!"

His dominant hand now pulled beneath your shirt, using the new grip on your breast to bring you in to him.

"Not until I get to feel every inch of what you've teased me with-" He took his time in feeling every inch of your skin, twisting nipples and biting your neck, before finalizing his touch to your ass in a slap, and returning that hand to your clit.

"How rewarding it's gonna be to shake the hand of all those kook assholes knowing one of their own came on that very hand..." You cried out, his words acting more powerful than any prior sex toy or even his cock itself. The collective aesthetic of being fucked by him was an overwhelming and all-consuming experience.

"And she came hard, right?" You couldn't speak, his motions too deep and his words too hot to formulate your own.

"RIGHT?!"

"Yes! YES!"

"Good, desperate girl...How about now? Come all over it right now..." He offered as you nodded.

"I'm so close, JJ...I'm SO close-"

"Making me wanna come clenching me like that...come OK princess...give me a reason to love those whines..."

"Ahhh! Fuck, JJ!" He ignored your high as he'd fuck you through it.

"Yes. Fuck JJ." He teased, a bit too proud of himself as he led you back into him. "Fuck me, make me come. I know you want it."

"Yes!"

"Then beg for it!"

"Please JJ! Come for me! I need it!"

A final collection of thrusts and moans had him spent in a vicious pace suddenly stilled. Tossing your shorts back to you, he smirked.

"Wouldn't want you to get pneumonia." He winked, moving back to your car.

"What are you doing?"

"Connecting your battery again. Had to make sure you’d stay until I got what I wanted…" Your eyes narrowed as you realized he had kept you here.

"You-"

"Not like you fought me. Fate brought you here, princess, you stayed because you wanted...but I made you come..." You looked to the table behind you, validating this.

"And when I get back from fixing your car...I'm gonna make good on my threat to make you mute...wanna see if that mean little tongue can be sweet, too..."

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection @camilynn22 @bethoconnor

#jjmaybank #jj maybank x reader #jjsmut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank #kook #outerbanks smut #outer banks fanfiction #outerbanks #outer banks #outer banks smut

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mochegato · 3 years ago

Text

Even the Losers

Chapter 16

Chapter 1 Chapter 15

Marinette blinked as the room around her slowly came into focus. She tried to bring her hand up to rub her head to help alleviate her pulsing headache but her hands weren’t responding. It felt like there was a weight on them. Or like they were being held down, bound. Marinette’s eyes flew open and her heart started pounding as she searched the room for the akuma. She looked at her hands and silently cursed to herself. Not only were her arms bound to the arms of a wooden chair, she saw her own naked hands instead of her distinct red suit.

She groaned and looked around for any clues to where she was being held and what the akuma might be. If she could figure out their powers, she might be able to figure out how to get out of this. She stopped when she saw a man in a green suit making his way toward her. She blinked a few more times taking in his suit and hat. “Is that… are those question marks? Are you a question akuma?” she muttered out in French.

The man tilted his head at her. “You’ll find English is necessary if you want to get out of this one alive, young Wayne.”

Marinette stared at the man a few more seconds, letting his words settle in her head as things started to click in her mind. She wasn’t in Paris. This wasn’t an akuma, because there weren’t akumas anymore. She and Adrien had defeated his father. She was in Gotham. She had been on her way home after a disastrous dinner at the Wayne’s. This was a Gotham villain, not a Parisian one. This was the Riddler.

Marinette breathed out a sigh of relief before her face scrunched in frustration. “Are you kidding me? Are you kidding me right now? You had to do this right now?”

“Oh, I never kid about riddles. Now, is not the time to panic, Little Lady,” he taunted.

“Oh, you have no fucking clue. Now is most definitely NOT the time, but you made it the time,” she hissed at him. “Do you have ANY idea how bad my week is going? My night? Do you? Do you have any idea of the trauma and nightmares I’m going to have to deal with already? And that was before you forced me to witness your suit in person. And can you comprehend the mental and emotional cataclysm I’m already going to have to endure? And you’re pulling this shit? Now?”

“I’m just going to ask a few questions and then it’ll all be over and then you can have your little mental breakdown,” he jeered condescendingly.

She narrowed her eyes at him and tried to lunge at him, but her chest was tied to the chair, holding her back, and she’d never hated rope more than she did in that moment. She growled and glared at him. “Oh thank you for the permission. And for the record, it won’t be little. It’s going to be a monufuckingmental breakdown. Thank you very much. Granted it isn’t everything on Earth is destroyed but me and one other person, who caused it in the first place, level of bad. But I think I’m justified in needing to take a fucking second to think and process. A second I’m not going to fucking get now am I? Because of you.” She turned her head to the side in frustration but her eyes got caught on a small red light. Her mouth dropped open. “Are you recording this?” she yelled at him. That complicated things considerably. Now she needed to watch her words. Now she needed to make sure she didn’t expose anything. Well that just sucked even more.

“Well, it wouldn’t be much of a game show without an audience, now would it,” he purred.

She scowled at him. “By all means, record this to watch later. Most people aren’t looking to get bitch slapped as hard as you’re going to get so publicly, but to each their own, I guess. But, consent is a thing and next time, keep me out of it.”

She strained against the ropes holding her hands to the chair arms. She glowered at him when they proved too tight for her to move her wrists. “Also, it’s already not much of a game show. If you have to knock out people and tie them down just to get them to play, either your show sucks or your host does. Or in this case, both.”

“Now, now,” he snarled, his smile considerably more strained than it had been before. “We’re just testing the newest Wayne to see how you’re going to fit in.”

“I could have told you that without all this,” she glowered. “But you wanted to be a big man and ask a question. So ask your little question. Be a big man putting a bound, petite, non-native English speaking woman, in her place. Although if that’s what it takes to make you feel like a man, that’s one of the most pathetic things I’ve ever heard.”

Riddler seethed at her, attempting to keep his face neutral, but failing spectacularly. One of the Waynes should be afraid of him. He had been hoping the new one would finally give him a Wayne that cowered in fear. Instead, he got yet another feral child. He gripped his question mark staff tightly, fighting the urge to hit her with it. It was too early to start. She’d get her punishment soon enough. He looked up with a grin. Very soon.

He looked back at her with a sadistic smirk. “Fine. I’d hate to keep a lady waiting. Perhaps first I should start with the stakes.” He moved closer to smile in her face. “Think well on your answer young Wayne, because for every question you get wrong,” he pointed up with his staff, “a knife falls.”

Marinette let out a deep, annoyed sigh and looked up to see a series of knives tied to the ceiling right above her seat. She sighed and gave him a flat look. “Really? That’s the best you could do? You realize what I’ve been faced with before, right? Or did you not do your research?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You look like a man who never does his research.”

Riddler sidled up to her in a step, his face a few centimeters from her own. “We can start by testing out the knives if you’d prefer.”

Marinette leaned her head back. Even if she couldn’t talk him out of making one drop, it wasn’t going to get her. They would miraculously get diverted just enough to miss her. Luck could be a bitch when it was against you and he’d left too much up to chance. “Already changing the rules of the game? What were you saying about a good game show? Guess you really don’t care.”

“Fine!” Riddler screamed. He walked away a few steps and turned back to her with a malicious glint in his eyes. “Let’s start slow, shall we? Starting in 1881, this hall brightened Paris’ nights while darkening its satire. What is the name of this baby of Salis?”

Marinette stared at him blankly for a few seconds. Her face went slack.

Riddler leered down at her, his face breaking into a creepy grin at her apparent inability to answer his question. “Oh, how sad.” He gave her a mock pout. “Looks like the new Wayne isn’t so smart after all. What do they see in you anyway? Can’t even answer a simple, easy question.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Marinette finally burst out.

Riddler frowned at her. Instead of the fear he expected, her voice was incredulous and angry. “That’s the question, if you can’t answer…”

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? That’s not a… You’re the Riddler. That’s not a riddle! That’s a… are you okay? Like, seriously. Are you okay? Because I think… You know what?” She took a deep steadying breath. She opened her eyes to give him a serious look, completely devoid of fear, leaning more towards concerned.

“I think you need a break. I think you need to take a bit of time to reassess, refocus, and recenter yourself. Then you can come back and be the Riddler I know you can be. Because this,” she tried to motion toward him, “this is not it. That is... that isn't a riddle! That's trivia! You inaccurately named, evil Alex Trebek! This would be a perfect opportunity to say I’m in Jeopardy, clueless asshole. So disappointed right now.” She shook her head in disappointment, refusing to even look at him.

Riddler seethed at her, his face turning red with anger. “Look either answer the question or…”

“THAT’S EXACTLY THE PROBLEM!” she screamed at him. “It’s a question, not a riddle. And you missed a golden opportunity to ask a follow up question and saying it’s Double Jeopardy. You missed the obvious pun! This is why I say you need to take a break. This isn’t you. You’re better than this, I know you are. I’m just… I’m worried about your mental health.” She gave him a concerned look.

“If you can’t answer…” he snapped at her. He gripped and regripped his question staff menacingly, leaning toward her with a snarl.

Marinette rolled her eyes at the attempt at intimidation. “Of course I can answer. I’m from Paris and you’re asking about Le Chat Noir? Of course I know the answer. Let me guess, your next question is about a ladybug,” she chirped, widening her eyes with false excitement.

Her face dropped the false sweetness and turned back into an aggravated frown. “That’s not the fucking point. My point is you interrupted my fucking abomination of a night for this bullshit and you’re not even on top of your game. So I not only get shoved into the spotlight, against my will, by people violating my and my parents’ privacy, forcing Mon… my father to ramp up plans for my introduction. Making sure my family and I knew we weren’t safe and exposing me to this bullshit along with the other attempts on me since it happened.”

Her frown turned into a disgusted sneer. “And I was actually afraid for a moment because I thought you were an akuma, but you’re really just an underprepared asshole. It’s insulting frankly.”

Riddler swung his question mark staff at her catching her across her cheek. He grinned at the blood trickling down her cheek. Marinette glared up at him but refused to let a grunt of pain pass her lips. “Next question, hopefully this one is more to your liking.” His eyes took on a malevolent glint.

Marinette’s eyes flicked behind him. He smirked at her inability to make eye contact any longer. “No,” she interrupted, a smirk forming on her own lips. “It’s my turn. I have one for you. It’s actually in the form of a riddle, if you think you can handle that.” The Riddler growled at her and moved closer to tower over her threateningly. “What lights up the day with black against yellow yet lights up the night with yellow against black. It brings hope to those who see it yet marks your demise. What is it?”

Riddler narrowed his eyes at her and backed away to get some space while he thought. He looked down for a second, searching the ground as though it might hold the answer for him. He suddenly looked up, his eyes bright with realization. “A signal!” he exclaimed, jumping with excitement. His face suddenly fell realizing the words that passed his lips.

He spun around just in time for Signal to punch him in the jaw. Riddler stumbled back falling backward on his ass. Signal stalked toward him, eskrima sticks out and ready. He kept his eyes on Riddler but raised his voice so Marinette could hear him. “You alright, Ma’am?”

“I’m fine. Just pissed,” she grunted. She focused on her bindings, trying to figure out a way to loosen them enough to get out.

Signal smirked and gave a short nod. “Preying on young women again? Not a good look for you.”

“Penguin and Scarecrow both tried and couldn’t get to her. I did,” he said defiantly, his chest puffing out even as he was slumped on the floor. “Penguin got to the museum too early. Scarecrow got to the hotel too late. But me? I plan better.”

“And got a verbal bitch slap the likes of which Gotham has never seen for your trouble.” Signal shook his head in mock sympathy and regripped his sticks. “Publicly.”

Riddler sneered at Signal. “It won’t happen again.”

“You’re damn right it won’t,” Marinette called from her seat. She pointed at him threateningly with her now miraculously freed right hand. “Next time I’ll do it physically too.”

Signal grinned proudly and snorted at her comment. Riddler growled before looking back up at Signal with an angry scowl. “Looks like this show has come to an end. But we’ll be back after a short break.” He hit his staff hard on the ground and a gas started emitting from it, obscuring Signal’s view. Signal backed away and rushed over to Marinette, uncertain if the gas was dangerous.

He pulled out a knife and quickly sliced through the remaining ropes and helped her get free. “Can you walk?”

Marinette started sprinting toward the exit. “I can do better than that,” she called over her shoulder. “You just going to stand there and let the gas get you?” Signal smirked and followed her out.

She grunted as her shoulder rammed into the doorframe when she miscalculated the distance. She silently cursed how long it was taking her brain to recover from having been knocked out. Now out of the room she stopped running and rubbed her head as if willing it to kick back into gear.

“You sure you’re okay?” Signal asked catching up to her.

Marinette couldn’t see his eyes under his mask but the bottom half of his face seemed to be contorted in concern. She grumbled noncommittally in response and rubbed her shoulder. She looked around them quickly. “You sure this is a safe way out? He has to have had help. I don’t see him doing his own dirty work.”

Signal nodded. “He did have help. But, so do I.” He nodded behind him.

Marinette craned her neck around him to look behind him. She cringed as she saw Red Hood kneeing someone in the face. The goon fell limply to the ground, unconscious before he hit. Red Hood looked up and ran over to them as soon as he spotted her. “Pi… uh… pretty impressive mouth,” he stuttered. He looked over her closely as he could without touching her. His eyes zeroed in on her cheek.

Marinette stared at him for a few seconds missing the incredulous look Signal tried to give him. “Um… thanks… I think.” She blinked a few more times before frowning. “Yeah, can we not talk about my mouth, please?”

Red Hood choked on nothing and shook his head, leaning away, as if trying to get away from the idea. “I meant your att…” he shook his head again and looked back at her. “Not a problem. Let’s never talk about it again. Are you okay? Did he hurt you anywhere else?” His eyes scanned her again and stopped at her wrists.

Marinette rubbed her wrists self-consciously. “No…” she started. “I mean! No he didn’t hurt me anywhere else. But I am okay,” she rushed out when she saw him tense up at her words.

“Where is he?” Red Hood growled, still staring at her wrists.

“Got away,” Signal answered.

Red hood rounded on him, his entire body tensed for a fight. “What do you mean he got away?”

Marinette stepped between them and pushed Red Hood back gently. “He released some kind of gas. He got me out of there before we found out what it did. Seems like a good move considering how he got me in the first place.”

Red Hood looked down at her for a second before looking up to Signal with a nod. He remembered seeing the gas dissipating when they finally caught up to where she was taken. It had looked like there was enough to knock out an entire city block. Definitely overkill, but spoke to Riddler’s desperation to be the first to kidnap her. “Idea which direction he went?”

Signal sighed a heavy sigh. “I didn’t see which way he went but it had to be out the west side of the room, but that’s all I got.”

Red Hood nodded and touched his com. “You got that?” He paused for a moment listening to whatever was being said over his com. “Yes, she’s fine. A few rope burns and a cut on her cheek, but seems okay other than that.”

Signal nodded and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Do you have family we can call?”

Marinette shook her head absentmindedly, the strain of the night starting to hit. “No, I can call my brother. He’s probably terrified about me.”

Red Hood seemed to freeze. “Just… the one brother? You… aren’t you one of the Waynes?”

Marinette’s eyes widened and her face paled. She plastered a smile on her face. “Right. Yes. Of course. I… I meant my one brother was with me at the time. Yes. Yeah. The Waynes are my family. I’m a… I’m… Yeah, I’m a… Wayne,” she barely managed to get the word out of her mouth. It felt wrong and foreign on her tongue. She smiled wider at them. “But you don’t… you don’t have to bother them. They’re all busy.”

“Yeah, looking for you,” Red Hood answered back sharply. “They’re the ones that called us. They’re terrified right now.”

“I think they’d want to know,” Signal urged gently, his voice heartfelt and slightly pained.

She let out a bitter scoff before she could stop herself. She squeezed her eyes shut and mentally berated her still drugged mind for letting that slip out. “I meant,” she started loudly, “I’ll inform someone. They’d want to… hear it from me,” she finished quietly.

Red Hood took a breath and moved closer to her, gently resting his hands on her shoulders. “I promise you, they’re worried about you and they would want to know. They’d want to make sure you’re okay. They’d want to make sure you feel safe. They would want to protect you. In fact, I’d expect to see a lot more of them over the next few days.”

Marinette opened her mouth to answer but got interrupted by the police breaking into the room. Marinette pursed her lips and seemed to let a calm come over her. Red Hood looked harder at her change as the police led her off to take her statement. No, it wasn’t calm. It was a numbness, an absence of any feelings. His face contorted into a scowl. Exactly what Adrien had described. “You get that,” Red Hood snapped into his com. He waited a few seconds before shaking his head.

“That’s a fool’s bet,” Signal scoffed. “Of course she’s not going to. She might send a text. And even then I bet it won’t be much.”

Red Hood listened for a few more seconds before he shook his head again. “I’m not taking that bet either.” He watched as Adrien just stopped himself from tackling Marinette in his excitement to see her again. After what looked like a worried conversation, he saw Adrien pull her into a tight hug and Marinette melt into it. “We need to fix this and quick before B does anything else to completely destroy any chance we have,” Red Hood snarled. He turned and started grappling away. “I’m going rogue hunting.”

Chapter 17

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie @imarivers8 @ certainmuffinbagelcalzone @ritacrow-blog @unoriginalmess @demonicbusiness @kking13 @lady-bee-fechin @blur-of-colours @kittenmywaythrulife @kashlyn @loysydark

#maribat #bio!dad bruce #bio dad bruce wayne #roynette #Even the Losers #mbdbwm2021 #prompt - last name Wayne

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merakiaes · 4 years ago

Text

Hate You, Hate You Not - Armitage Hux

Pairing: General Armitage Hux x reader

Requested: By anon.

Prompts: #1 & #58 from the fluff-list.

Warnings/notes: (SHOULD I MAKE A PART 2 WITH MORE ROMANCE IN IT?) This ended up being much longer than I planned so it's most likely very boring and dull😭 Might be a bit, if not a lot, out of character since this is kinda my test-run for Hux and Star Wars in general. Getting the characters mannerisms in might take some practice. Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any mistakes. This is the first time ever that I write for Star Wars and the first time in like 5-6 months that I’m writing in general so I’m a bit rusty. Please reblog and leave comments to keep my motivation going and let me know if you’d like to be added to a Star Wars taglist <3

Wordcount: 5632

Summary: One of Kylo Ren’s many tantrums results in your room being inhabitable for a night, which in turn results in you having to share a room - and bed - with the person you hate the most.

Everyone who had ever, at some point in their lives, worked alongside Kylo Ren in his quest to bring the Order to power, knew how much of a hassle and inconvenience his temper, or lack thereof, could be.

Not much was needed for him to lose his cool and it happened on a much too frequent basis than what was considered normal for a man in his early 30s, at least according to you.

Of course, however, you couldn’t actually tell him that, nor could you think it, with the risk of him probing your mind.

So every time he came back from a failed mission and completely obliterated your hard work, you could do nothing but bite your tongue, clear your head and repair the damages like you’d done oh, so many times before.

That’s what you got for being one of the highest-ranked engineers of the Order, you supposed.

But on this day you would’ve, for the first time in your life, very much preferred to repair the damages left behind by your tantrum-prone leader like you always did. Because if that punishment had to be compared to the one you were now facing, you would’ve chosen the former without even a shadow of a doubt.

But, unfortunately, that was not an option this time around, as the room that had fallen victim to the sizzling beam of Kylo Ren’s lightsaber was your bedroom.

Well, not originally, of course, but sparks had flown from the totaled control panels and a piece of supposedly fireproof metal scrap had caught on fire before you and the other engineers reached the room for a damage-control, starting of as a small flame and then proceeding to spread like wildfire as fire did, in ways completely unbeknownst to you as, like already mentioned, the place was supposed to be safe from fires.

The licking flames had managed to melt through several walls before you got to the scene, and one of those walls was the wall to your bedroom.

It was late when it happened, only fifteen minutes before you were supposed to end your shift, and as you were on the verge of having a mental fucking breakdown, you personally requested an audience with Kylo and were granted permission by him after a very carefully-worded explanation to start early in the morning.

But that only took care of one of your problems, and only temporarily at that. Now you were left with the issue of finding other sleeping accommodations since your room was currently not habitable. You had no choice but to ask for another room and, of course, Hux thought that to be the perfect time to crack a sarcastic joke about throwing you into one of the prisoner cells.

You had never, in all your years of being alive, glared so fiercely at another human being as you did then. And in your moment of anger, you accidentally let your walls down and let your thoughts run freely through your head – your annoyance directed at the General, but also at Kylo Ren, being exposed.

You felt it before you saw it – that little prickle in your head, that little sting of your mind being probed – and only a second later, Kylo Ren turned his masked head in your direction, walked up to you with patronizingly slow steps and spoke:

“I think you’ll find that General Hux’s quarters will suffice for the night, until repairs can be done to your own. He has more than enough space for both of you.”

He turned his head to look at the baffled man standing behind him, all of the attitude he had previously been harboring against you now completely melted away.

“Isn’t that right, General?” Kylo continued asking, giving him the time he needed to regain his composure.

The general in question had never been very good at holding his tongue, not even when receiving orders from superiors, and was quick to protest.

As anyone would’ve been able to guess, that didn’t go very well, and you weren't even gonna try hiding the satisfaction you got from seeing Hux be force-choked against a wall for speaking out of turn.

No matter how good both of you were at hiding your spiteful thoughts toward him, Kylo knew how much the two of you hated him. And more than anything, he knew how much you hated each other.

Kylo had become very predictable to you during the time you had been there and you knew his ways good enough to know that he wouldn’t have wasted petty energy in putting the two most hateful people he knew in the same room if he hadn’t been pushed to do so.

You knew that you weren’t the reason in this scenario, despite the fact that he had probably felt your spite directed towards him, which only left one option; and that option was the bitter, infuriatingly stubborn ginger currently walking by your side.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and glared, clenching and unclenching your fists at your sides in the same manner you had been doing ever since Kylo had ruled his decision final and dismissed you for the night.

His eyes remained trained on the metallic corridor that seemed to be stretched out for miles in front of you and your blood boiled at the sight.

You would’ve lost your shit if he’d had the nerve to even consider looking at you after putting you in this situation, but at the same time, you were also on the verge of losing your shit about him having the audacity to ignore you.

You wanted to scream at him like you’d never screamed at anyone before, but you knew that doing that would only fuel the petty grudge Kylo had against the two of you and give him more ways to cause you torment. The only thing you and the general would ever have in common was not wanting that.

But still, what harm could a tiny bit of friendly banter do?

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you, Armitage?” The question you’d been sucking on for the past few minutes finally slipped out into the air, making your anger known.

“Don’t call me that.”

“My apologies.” You sarcastically shot back with a dry laugh. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you, general?”

“No, it was awfully tempting.” Was all that he replied, his eyes not once flickering and neither his stone-cold scowl nor fast-paced stride faltering.

Well, you might have absolutely despised each other but in the very least, you never bothered lying to each other. That had to count for something, right? Not that either of you cared.

No more words were exchanged, and that was probably for the best. Engineers and stormtroopers all moved out of your way as the two of you marched through the corridors, side by side, knowing better at this point than to get on your bad sides when you were together and this obviously angry both with each other and in general.

Soon enough, you finally reached the corridor in which Hux’s sleeping quarters were located and once the mechanic doors slid open, you pushed yourself past him into the room before he even got the chance to react.

He fumed behind you as he watched you make yourself at home, dropping your dirty jacket on his perfectly made bed.

“You’ll take the floor, then?” You asked as you turned around, crossing your arms over your chest and shooting him a forced smile.

“Hardly.” He spat, eyes narrowing, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes in return.

“You must be a real hit with the ladies with those manners.”

At that, he stepped further into his room, allowing the sensory-triggered door to shut behind him, successfully shutting the two of you in together.

“I don’t have time for fooling around with women.” He spat out the last word with such malice that you automatically raised an eyebrow.

“Well, that explains it.” You mused, the corner of your lip tugging upwards ever so slightly.

“Explains what, exactly?” His eyes narrowed further, and this time it was his turn to cross his arms.

“That stick you have up your ass.” You wasted no time in shooting back, and before he got a chance to reply, you continued. “I know this might be news to you seeing as you’re, well, you, but gentlemen are supposed to sacrifice their comfort and offer themselves to take the floor when a lady, due to unfortunate circumstances, is forced to stay in their room.”

You sarcastically smiled at him and sank down his bed, something that he, judging by the snarl overtaking his face, didn’t appreciate.

“You, a lady? That will be the day.” He scoffed. “Even calling you a woman is a stretch with your mannerisms.”

You could only roll your eyes.

“Well, I’m not sharing a bed with you.” The glare that had temporarily been exchanged for a teasing smirk returned to your face. “I’d rather share a bed with Millicent.”

As you said that, you picked up a single strand of cat hair from his bed, held it up for further inspection and raised your lip in disgust.

He stared at you dead serious, hands clasped behind his back and eyes burning holes into the side of your face.

“You’re allergic to cats.” He pointed out, making your head whip back around to face him with a glare equally as fierce as the one you were met with.

“Yes, that’s my point.” You deadpanned. “But it would seem that said point just went right over your thick-skulled head.”

“Do you think I am any happier about this than you are?” He scowled, and you stood up, slowly approaching him and coming to a stop right in front of him.

He took a small step back, a move that made your lip tug upward ever so slightly. The fact that he was so obviously not as tough as he wanted people to believe gave you a special kind of satisfaction and he knew it, judging by the way he only turned stiffer after that.

“You should be.” You smiled sweetly at him, keeping your eyes connected to his. “Because you’re sure as hell lucky I haven’t choked the life out of you yet for getting us into this situation in the first place.”

He glared and you glared right back, challenging, no, daring him to fight back. You knew that he wanted to, you could see that he wanted to, but in the end, not even he was that stupid.

So he said nothing, and once you realized you had finally managed to successfully back him into a corner, you backed away from him again and plastered on another forced, overly sweet smile.

“Now, I need to take a shower. I reek of burnt plastic.” You stated flatly and pushed past him, making a beeline for the one extra door in the room that you could only assume was his bathroom.

You heard the squeak of his shoes rubbing against the floor as he quickly turned around behind you, and then came the determined steps and the proximity of his body closing in on you. However, before he got the chance to object or reach you, you entered his bathroom and slammed the door shut in his face, smiling contently to yourself as you listened to the muffled string of curses that followed.

You didn’t spend any more time thinking about it, though, not wasting any time before doing what you came in there to do.

You got out of your horrid-smelling clothes, released your equally as nasty-smelling hait from its ponytail and stepped into the shower.

If there was one thing you appreciated a little extra about living at the Starkiller Base, it was that everyone used the same scented soap. Because that meant that you wouldn’t have to go around smelling specifically like Hux, but rather just like you always smelled.

Once you finished washing your hair and body, you had to stop and think for a bit.

Your clothes obviously still reeked and needed a proper wash before they could be worn again, and you obviously couldn’t go naked.

After much thought back and forth, you finally settled with your own leggings as they were the one piece of clothing from your previous attire that smelled the least of smoke, and a plain black, long-sleeved undershirt that you found in a pile of Hux’s clean laundry.

Once you vad gotten dressed, braided your hair and re-entered the bedroom accompanied by a stream of steam, you found it to be empty, Hux nowhere in sight.

You couldn’t deny that you wondered where he’d gone off to, but you shook your head free of his face pretty quickly, settling with believing that he just went to take his frustration out on some poor stormtrooper or low-rank intern like he so often did when things didn’t go his way, much like Kylo Ren beat the shit out of any control panel he could get his hands on.

While you awaited his return, you occupied yourself with going around the room and lighting the small night-lamps like you normally did in your own room before going to bed.

That obviously didn’t take long, however, so you were soon enough once again left alone with your boredom and started walking around the room, inspecting all of Hux’s belongings.

You realized pretty quickly that he was not a person to whom inanimate things had much sentimental value, as he definitely didn’t have much to his name aside from the basic interior that all of the sleeping quarters on the base had.

He had a ring on his drawer, a few books in one of his two bookshelves while the other stood empty, a small bed in a corner for his cat, clothes in his wardrobe, and that was pretty much it. He had no pictures of family, no real personal belongings that could signify any kind of emotional value.

But then again, who did in these parts?

“Is that my shirt?”

You jumped when you heard the sudden voice behind you, quickly turning around where you stood twirling the ring you had found in the light of the lamp standing beside you.

Your eyes found his form immediately, shocked meeting stern.

“Why are you wearing my shirt?” He almost instantly repeated himself when not getting a reply the first time, slowly beginning to walk in your direction with his hands clasped behind his back.

You quickly put the ring back down on the dresser and turned towards him, regaining your composure.

“Well, if you hadn’t noticed, my room and everything in it was burnt to a crisp. The smokey smell on my clothes was giving me a headache and kind of would have ruined the purpose of taking a shower so when I just so conveniently noticed a pile of clean clothes, I helped myself.” You shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, and to you, it wasn’t.

Hux, however, didn’t seem amused in the slightest.

“Yes, you seem to have a habit of thinking you’re entitled to everything you want.” He spat back at you, coming to a stop while there was still a good amount of distance between the two of you.

Any chill you had previously had melted right off and your annoyance quickly returned at the sound of his words.

“Oh, do excuse me. I just thought one headache would be enough.” You retorted and rolled your eyes, before sighing and crossing your arms over your chest. “So, how are we doing this? It’s late and I need to be up early to see to the repairs.”

“I thought that I made myself clear.” Hux was quick to scoff, his glare not faltering for as much as a second. “I’m not giving you my bed.”

Once again, all you could do was roll your eyes. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to suck it up then.” You stated flatly and sat down on the bed, wasting no time in starting to divide the pillows into two piles rather than one.

You took a few seconds to adjust the pillows to suit your needs before looking back up, eyebrow raised at the fact that he had yet to say or do anything.

Your eyes once again met his and you almost laughed out loud at the sight you were faced with, but thankfully managed to control yourself and avoid making the situation even harder than it already was.

Long story short, Hux had never looked more horrified than he did in that moment.

He basically looked at you like you had killed his cat, and that was putting it lightly.

You took a few seconds to just enjoy watching him squirm and silently scramble to make sense of the situation, but even you knew when enough was enough and raised a questioning eyebrow at him in an attempt to get him moving.

“Well? What’s it going to be?” You asked. “It’s either this or the floor, just like it was for me.”

Hux opened his mouth, hesitated, and then closed it again. He obviously hadn’t been expecting you to actually agree on sharing his bed with him and now that you had, he was left at loss for words as he clearly hadn’t been preparing for anything other than you sleeping on the floor.

But after a good moment of just standing there and looking like an idiot, he finally picked himself back up, squared his shoulders and walked around the bed to the other side with frustrated strides and a snarling lip.

The feigned confidence melted right off, however, when he reached his destination and awkwardly shuffled into bed while simultaneously avoiding your amused and mocking stare, silently grabbing the extra blanket that was folded upon his bedside table.

Both of you laid down on your backs and a heavy silence fell like a thick blanket over the room. The only sound you could hear for a few moments were each other’s breaths and your own heartbeats. For a moment, only for a microscopical moment, you were actually on your way to admit to yourself that it was kind of nice.

But that thought went flying out the window just as quickly as it had knocked on the door of your mind when Hux broke the silence by beginning to adjust himself to get ready to sleep, and in the process of doing so made the active choice to tug the pillows from right under your head.

The back of your head hit the mattress with a soft thump and you closed your eyes, your lips pulling into a straight, tight line and one, sharp breath being released through your nose as you attempted to keep your cool.

You took a moment to calm down, before you turned your head to his side of the bed where he now laid with his back to you and tugged the pillows back – maybe with a little too much force than necessary.

Hux had quickly rolled over to his other side to take them back and in anger and an eagerness to get to sleep, you exclaimed: “Stop stealing the pillows!”

He met you with a stare cold enough to have anyone else shaking in their boots and spat back. “They’re my pillows.”

You grumbled under your breath and let go of one of the two pillows, letting him pull it back to his side while you held on to the last one.

You stared at each other for a moment, both of you eventually coming to a silent, mutual agreement that you were too tired to fight and therefore he'd let you keep the pillow you were holding on to as if your life depended on it.

He, once again, laid down and turned his back to you, his hands holding on to the pillows under his head while you struggled to get comfortable again, this time with only one pillow.

“Why is your bed so damn hard?” You muttered under your breath as you angrily shoved your elbow into the mattress in an attempt to make it more comfortable – as if that was ever going to help.

“Stop complaining.” He only snapped back.

“How could I when I’m stuck in a bed with you?”

“You could’ve asked for other accommodations when you had the chance.”

“And what, be the next victim of Ren’s lightsaber?” You scoffed. “I’m the one in charge of the repairs that are needed every time he throws a wobbly. I’ve seen the kind of damage that thing can do and I’m not in any hurry to find myself at the receiving end of it.”

You muttered the last part under your breath as you finally managed to get relatively comfortable, plopping back down on your back and folding your hands over your stomach.

“How did you know I’m allergic to cats, anyway?” The question spilled out before you could stop yourself, and before you could even register that it was on the way.

Where did that even come from? Cats weren’t even close to being the subject at hand.

Hux didn’t seem to care much about the random change of subject, however, simply muttering back a reply. “You start sniffling and scratching your arms every time you’re in the same room as me for more than five minutes.”

He was clearly tired. Tired in general or just tired of you, you didn’t really know, but you guessed that it was a mixture of both since that was the case for you.

“Maybe I’m just allergic to you.” You muttered back with a shrug, even though he couldn’t see you, and he scoffed at that.

“Had that been the case I’m fairly certain it would go both ways and, unlike you, I don’t go around oozing snot everywhere I go.”

“I don’t go oozing snot everywhere.” You calmly protested, throwing the back of his head a disapproving glare before turning to lay on your side so that your back was now turned to his.

He didn’t say anything else and neither did you, sleep coming in and catching you completely by surprise and having you knocked out within the next two minutes.

When you woke up early that next morning, Hux was unsurprisingly already gone, Millicent instead laying in his place and looking right at you.

With a disgusted snarl and hesitant movements, you reached over to the other side of the bed and awkwardly patted her head twice, probably very much in the incorrect manner as you had no experience whatsoever with animals.

You got out of bed after that, put on your jacket and shoes, and wasted no time in getting to work once you’d gotten some food into your system, your team joining you in the damage-inflicted area to start on repairs like you’d done so many times before.

Everything was going fine and dandy, just a light-reckon day that started off like any other – if you didn’t count waking up in Hux’s bed with his cat – but a few hours into your workday, the unmistakable sound of Kylo Ren’s heavy steps could be heard echoing through the entire corridor you found yourself working in.

A big share of the Order’s pilots had been either killed or badly hurt a few days prior in an ambush. No one had expected any pilots to be needed for at least a few days but Kylo had gotten a sudden lead on the map that would take him to Luke Skywalker and was now walking around the base recruiting anyone capable of helping him get what he wanted.

Unfortunately for you, you were not only a highly-ranked engineer, but also a pretty decent pilot, and couldn’t say anything in protest when you were whisked away to a ship.

As anyone who wasn’t driven by an unhealthy obsession would have been able to guess, the lead was just too good to be true with a way too simple access.

Just like the last lead, this one fell through when it was revealed to be another ambush. You weren’t completely sure what happened, but over the comms, you had heard something about Leia Organa and some scavenger.

You didn’t have time to think about retired war heroes though, no matter how much you’d love to pry and the get in on the gossip, as you had to shoot yourself through a big fleet of Resistance starfighter corps, barely getting through with your ship intact.

Your fellow pilots were shot down one by one, only a small amount of you managing to get out of there. And even then, you were met by more starfighter corps just as quickly as you’d gotten away from the last line.

Everything was just a mess after that. You weren’t able to get through to anyone over the comms, only barely being able to make out a “pull back!” before your comm system was blown to pieces along with one of your main engines.

Along with several other ships, you were forced to crash-land on a small planet filled with thick woods and when your ship collided with the ground, your head slammed into the controls, rendering you unconscious for who knows how long.

By the time you came back to it, you were hanging upside down, the only thing preventing you from falling down being the seatbelt keeping you strapped in.

You struggled to get out of there but you managed, and had to take a moment to get your surroundings to stop spinning before moving forward to look for survivors as well as a ship that wasn’t completely beyond salvation.

You weren’t sure who you’d find, but the person you’d shared a bed with the previous night was definitely the last person you’d expect to have crashed in the same place as you.

And still, you recognized his ship immediately. After all, you were the one who had personalized it to fit his liking.

Lucky for you, his ship seemed to have gotten a pretty soft landing. As you circled around it, you were able to determine that no major engines had been blown out. Damaged? Definitely. But they looked intact enough to at least be able to put some more distance between you and the Resistance pilots and get you to a safer place. Hopefully, the inside would be as untouched as the outside.

The ramp was lowered to the ground but didn’t look broken, so you wasted no time in jogging inside.

The lights were out completely in the entrance area, and just flickering in the ceiling when you came further in.

The first thing you noticed when you entered the piloting pit was that the pilot was not breathing. How could you tell from that far a distance? Well, let’s just say that something that was not supposed to be stuck in his eye, was stuck in his eye.

Upon further inspection, you noticed another body on the floor. However, this one was very much alive.

You would’ve expected to be met by a desperate “help me”, maybe even some begging and pleading or in the very least a “please”, but instead, even when in the process of bleeding out on the floor, Hux narrowed his eyes at you as you approached him and asked you with ragged breaths:

“Is that my shirt?”

You panted as you dropped to your knees at his side, still pretty shaken up from your own crash. “What? No.” You replied in a breath, and you wasted no time in starting to inspect his injuries.

“Yes, it is.”

“Why would I be wearing your shirt?” You asked simply, struggling to see in the dark as the flickering lights weren’t providing much assistance by means of light.

“That’s my shirt.” He kept insisting, and flinched when your hand made contact with his lower abdomen.

Only then did your eyes register the glimmering piece of metal through your blurred and disoriented vision, sticking out of his side.

You flinched at the sight, not needing any more light than you had to know that it was really bad.

Your heart suddenly picked up in speed in your chest, and your hands began shaking as they became covered in his blood.

You had never been in the middle of the action before now, you’d always just been surrounded by metal and electricity. The most exciting thing you’d ever experienced was when a new engineer circuited a control panel the wrong way, resulting in it blowing up right by your workplace.

But it wasn’t the action in itself that had your heart about ready to burst through your chest, nor was it the blood in general, but rather the fact that it was his blood covering your hands.

His life was completely dependent on you at this moment and you had absolutely no idea how to behave accordingly.

But if there was something you knew, it was that the last thing you were supposed to do was to show a dying man your panic, so you took a deep breath and tried your hardest to steady your racing heart, going back to the conversation at hand.

“How could you tell the difference, really?” You asked. “All of our shirts look the same. All black, all equally as sufficient when used to stop blood flows.”

As you said that last part, you released another breath and ripped off a big chunk of the lower part of the shirt you were wearing.

A shirt that was, in fact, Hux's.

The man in question let his head fall back against the wall that he was propped against and his eyes squeezed shut when feeling your hands return to his side.

“Do you always wear shirts several sizes too big?” He managed to get out through clenched teeth and you replied without missing a beat.

“There was a mix-up in the laundry room.”

“So it isn’t your shirt?” He continued to be persistent and despite the seriousness of the situation, you couldn’t help but to let a small smile slip.

“Do you want to keep fighting about whether or not this shirt is mine or would you rather maybe, oh, I don’t know, focus on getting the hell out of here?” You asked him lightly and at that, he raised his head to meet your eyes with a distrusting glare.

“Why are you helping me?”

You raised your eyebrow at him, sparing just a second to meet his eyes. “You have a piece of metal stuck in your side, why the hell would I not help you?” You asked and as quickly as you had looked up, you looked back down at your hands to see what you were doing.

“You hate me, and I hate you.” He deadpanned, and you couldn’t deny you felt your heart tug in your chest.

“Who told you I hated you?” You asked, and listened as he let out a dry, struggling laugh.

“You did. On countless occasions.”

He hissed when you accidentally bumped your hand against the piece of metal. You quietly apologized but didn’t stop, knowing you didn’t have much time before the enemy would catch up with you.

“Thinking that I’m entitled to everything I want isn’t the only bad habit I have. I also have a tendency to overexaggerate.” You joked with a smile. “I do find you insufferably infuriating, though.”

Another chuckle left his lips. “Likewise.” He said and dropped his head back against the wall.

You said nothing more, ripping another two pieces off of the shirt, tying them together and wrapping it around his waist like you had the first piece. You tightened this knot significantly more than the first one, though, right above the piece of metal, and just as quickly as he had relaxed, he jerked back forward with a yell.

“I need to stop the bleeding, you need to keep still.” You hurriedly scolded and sternly pushed him back down by his chest.

He muttered bitterly in return, but didn’t protest.

“I bet you’re enjoying this.” He seethed, and you raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on your lips.

“Whenever I’m feeling down, I just think back to the multiple times I’ve had the pleasure of witnessing you being force-thrown across a room by Ren. Puts a smile on my face every time. But that doesn’t automatically mean I want you to die. So stop wallowing in your internalized self-hatred and put your hand over mine.” You told him, trying your hardest to keep a lighthearted attitude, more so for your own sake than his at this point as you were literally about to pass out.

But he did as told, contributing with the strength he had left when you got to your feet and started pulling him up and into one of the seats that were still intact.

He put a trembling hand over yours and in turn, you put your other one over his and pushed down. He hissed and you gave him a moment to adjust, and when you were sure he was pressing hard enough with his own hand, you slowly removed both of yours and fastened his seatbelt.

“Keep pressure and hold on tight. This is most likely going to be a rough ride.” You warned him, and he slowly looked up at you through a mess of ginger hair.

“It can’t be any worse than the ride here.” He retorted and you nodded, taking that as a “go ahead”.

You wasted no time in getting into the pilot’s seat after pulling the previous pilot out, as well as the thick tree branch on which his head had been impaled, and started up the controls. It took a few tries to get out of the hole the ship hade gotten stuck in when crashing, but soon enough you were up in the sky.

With a bit of dumb luck, you eventually reached your destination and got brought back in to the base by your team of fellow engineers, all ready to repair the wrecked ship.

Hux was immediately taken to the medical bay while you stayed behind to help with the ships, and from two ends of the base, the two of you silently and separately came to realize that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t hate each other as much as you thought, after all.

#hux x reader #hux imagine #hux #armitage hux #armitage hux x reader #armitage hux imagine #general hux #general hux imagine #general hux x reader #domnhall gleeson #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars x reader #kylo ren #knights of ren #the first order

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newswcanonprompts · 4 years ago

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Anakin is sent to negotiate with Gardulla the Hutt bc of the success of the Jabba mission (no one in the Council knows Gardulla used to own him)

editor’s note: there is actually a fic that came from this, by the lovely @primeemeraldheiress! here is the link

this one is SUPER angsty, sorry in advance, i missed the original conversation about this prompt and when i got back online everyone was yelling about it, when i read what they did i was in *shock*. like ow. anyways have fun

After being so helpful in rescuing Jabba the Hutt's son, Anakin, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan end up being sent on a mission to help Gardulla the Hutt because Anakin hasn't told anyone about his history with her

Possible reactions from Gardulla:

"Skywalker? I owned a human like that, her brat always caused trouble. Good riddance!"

What if she decides that since he's back in her territory that means he belongs to her again

.....gardulla hears him try to call obi-wan master and tries to buy anakin from him (Gardulla asking if obi-wan is anakin's master and anakin being in such a messed up mental space that he says yes, trusting that Obi-wan won’t let her buy him)

Obi-Wan wondering why Anakin is being so specifically arsey with this Hutt. "Force you're worse with her than you were with Jabba."

"Oh yeah, she bought me and my mother. I think I have a reason to dislike her."

The council meeting afterwards where obi-wan rails on the council...

Obi-Wan suddenly getting a horrible feeling whenever Anakin calls him master because he's known the contexts were different but now it is real and in his face

Like it's a different thing for Obi-Wan to know his padawan used to be a slave compared to looking his padawan's former master in the eye and seeing her current slaves.

Anakin manages to control himself in the throne room but the whole way there and back he can't help worrying that one of the really old lash scars that curls around his shoulder will be noticed, that his identity as a former slave will be exposed

anakin not being able to call obi-wan master on tatooine like. point blank. he starts addressing him as master and just. flinches.

anakin usually wears his heart on his sleeves right?? always shows his emotions, feelings, all that. Well, the closer they get to gardulla's palace the blanker his face gets

Ahsoka calls Anakin master and Anakin just grits out a "Please don't call me that, not here."

Obi-Wan suddenly realising why Anakin comes across as arrogant as times. He's spent his entire life trying to up his value because there's safety in value.

Anakin telling them not to use the name "Skywalker" while they're in the palace

Anakin's accent shifts so entirely to the point where it almost sounds like Obi-Wan's because he's so determined to not slip into old roles

Anakin having to be physically held back from getting into a physical fight. Not even using his lightsaber, he just wants to fight

Or, alternatively, all the fight just going out of Anakin because he knows, here, it'll just make everything worse. So he's almost.... compliant and it freaks everyone out

Ex. from @youngcreativenerdgoddess: Obi-Wan is terrified. His former padawan is the most resigned he’s ever been. He looks so....defeated. A look one would never expect on the vaunted “Hero with no fear”. All the fight was gone from him, and that scared him more than anything else in this force-damned war had.

Obi-Wan actually being the one about to lose his temper and then Anakin just puts a hand on his shoulder and tells him there's no point.

Consider: instead of anakin being angry he was sent on the mission, being resigned because of course he was, he knew Gardulla bes

Anakin comes across as an almost perfect Jedi for once in his life and in the context it is horrifying

Anakin’s report to the council is so matter of fact because he thought they knowingly sent him on the mission because of his past experience with Gardulla

Obi-Wan finds Anakin writing what he thinks is a CV then he sees the numbers next to it and it is his estimated value--"for the gardulla mission, if she finds out who I am she'll try to rebuy me"

After the mission, from @jasontoddiefor: "Failed you, we have," Yoda said, his voice full of grief, and Obi-Wan watched in horror as Anakin only titled his head, for once looking his age and not the years the war has aged him.

"What do you mean?" Anakin asked, not understanding.

Examples of bits and pieces from this prompt:

Ex. from jasontodiefor: Anakin in the corner of her palace having a breakdown because he remembers memories he had thought gone, his mother's shouting and the tearful begging and the pain, pain, pain and he hadn't meant to break the vase, it had been an accident, please stop it hurts, Mom-

jasontodiefor: "A game of chance."

"What?"

Anakin doesn't look up from his hands, doesn't meet Obi-Wan's eyes. He hadn't since they'd arrived here. "I'd still be here like them if not for a game of chance. I'd be worth more than just a few credits too. Force-sensitive, young, good with mechanics, pretty-"

Ex. from Ro: Obi-Wan has never seen Anakin this silent before. There were nights before, when they were both younger, Obi-Wan himself still trying to heal from Qui-Gon's death and Anakin trying to get used to the temple. And Anakin would get quiet, but he was never this stone cold silent. Never this blank. He's so emotional, Obi-Wan's former padawan (his child), so open with his heart on his sleeve. There is none of that here, none of that bright boy. Anakin doesn't fight it, and that is the thing that worries Obi-Wan the most, because when Anakin doesn't like something he fights, he lashes out with teeth and sticks his heels in. But in this, he is resigned. (Anakin doesn't let Ashoka off the ship. She fights and argues but Anakin doesn't move, doesn't joke. He stands firm with it and Obi-Wan watches.

"Master, I—"

Anakin flinches, "You're staying on the ship, Ahsoka, that's final." She huffs and leaves, and the only thing Obi-Wan can see is how relieved Anakin looks. There is something wrong here, but Anakin has never liked talking about Tatooine, and Obi-Wan has never pushed.) Obi-Wan has never hated a mission more.

Another ex from jasontodiefor: "But-"

"You're young," Anakin interrupts her sharply. Ahsoka hates it when he cuts her off. It doesn't happen too often, mostly on the battlefield when he's barking orders at everyone. If anything, he lets her speak out of tune more often than he should or other Masters would, but right now his voice doesn't leave any room for agreement. "Young, underage actually, and female, that's the first 10K. Extra five if they don't sell you as inexperienced, and only stupid slavers would do that, but as a virgin."

Ahsoka pales. Anakin's voice is harsh, but there is an almost easy flow to his words, as if he had recited them in his head over and over again. "Force sensitive, that's next. Another 8K regularly, but you're a Jedi, so that's 20K. A Padawan, mind you, but you're a known face next to mine and Obi-Wan's. Obi-Wan would fetch 40 for his status as a Jedi and councilor alone. And you're a Togruta, you sell better than a human girl. I'd add another 6 for that."

You sell better. Not you would, there's nothing hypothetical about this, Ahsoka realizes. Anakin's narrowing down what would happen to her if somebody just managed to grab her lightsabers, to put a collar around her throat and cut her off from all that she had ever known. "Now, that's just your base value," Anakin continues. "You're also a pretty good mechanic and pilot, though the latter makes your flight risk much higher. Given how dangerous you are, let's say 10K. You're a strong fighter, so you could probably get another 8K in the arena, perhaps a little more depending on what planet you're sold on. Your political value also can't be overlooked. You fight at the front and know much more about the war effort as a whole and that's worth much more, probably another 15." Anakin holds up his fingers like he's counting apples and now how much people would be willing to brand her as theirs. "So we're roughly at 70. That's not bad at all. Not as much as Obi-Wan or I would get, but it's more than enough. You're not coming on this mission. End of discussion."

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obsessionsposts · 4 years ago

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✖𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠✖P.1

⚠️⚠️Tw: Grammatical mistakes, minor characters death, Mental breakdown, Scp 079 being creepy and heinous, M a n i p u l a t i o n, slight gore, drugging, Implied child abuse, implied abuse and dubious actions from the foundation. Also, it will be divided into two part due tumblr character limit.⚠️⚠️

Some keywords:

______ = (Y/n)

(H/c) = hair colour

(H/l) = hair length

(E/c) = eye colour

(I/n) = Iniatial letter of your name [ ex: Lily ---> L is the iniatial]

(F/m) = favorite meal

(F/c) = favorite colour

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Recently, ____ has graduated from her prestigious university atop of her class with honours in Computer Science and a specialization in Artificial Intelligence.

Hearing about her achievements, the Scp foundation has decided to contact and conduct an interview with her. To see if she is capable to join the organization.

With her, they could expand their horizons in understanding technology and most of all the uncooperative anomalous that is Scp-079. For whatever reason, it seems to take interest in her. Yet, refuses to share the reasons as to why it held her on high regards.

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

She woke up earlier than she expected. The surge of adrenaline was a response of her excitement for this day. As she prepared herself breakfast, her mind wondered how did she get contacted so quickly?

She thought, that she has to gain two years or more of experience before working in a company or an organization. But, no.

An obscure organization ,that was responsible for the safety of the public, has offered a grand bargain if she passed their interview and promised that she'll gain numerous experience working with them.

Of course, she accepted the offer like any reasonable person. Yet, she kept in mind to research about the independent organization. To her suprise and skepticism, she barely find any information about them. Only whispers of conspiracy theories in forums. Alas, she is forced to take a leap into the darkness. 'Sometimes, one must take the risks to learn more than to stay ignorant in the safe lines. I guess...this is one of the situations.'

Sighing, she went to take a bath and prepare for the upcoming interview. After the bath, she dried her hair and combed it then styled it in a high bun. Soon, she wore her salmon fitted blouse with navy blue dress. Along with pastel pink belted sweater and pearl necklace for a final touch.

The pearl necklace brought a small smile on her smooth visage as she recalled the dormant memory. Where she spent most of her life with her grandmother, due to her mother unwarranted death by murder from her father. The accident left a foul reminder in her mind, that she was helpless back then.

Til now, she never knew the motives or the reason behind her father actions. However, the police ruled it as a fued between him and her mother. At that time, it was also noted by her grandmother that her father began to fear technology. Which was odd, as he used to work with some A.I's.

But, that matter less when her grandmother encouraged her to pursue her ambitions and provided for her when she needed it the most. For that action alone, she is still alive in her memories. Not physically, but mentally and spiritually nonetheless. And, that's enough to motivate her to build a future where human and A.I's coexist.

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

When she went outside of her house, she noticed a black car with the cryptic insignia of the organization. Alongside, guards ,claded in black armour, standing beside the car in an intimidating pose. As if they were waiting for someone.

She knew better than to panic and cause a scene, so she stayed level-headed when a guard approached her.

"Are you by any chance, Ms.___?" the strapping male inquired sharply. Muscles taut through the piece of the armour defining his peak strength. Also, an admonition for her to answer truthfully lest he impelled his bulky physique against her smaller form.

"Indeed, it is me. But, if I could. May I ask, are you from the foundation? Why do you need to transfer me, when I am able to myself?" _____ asked warily of the dark armoured man.

No matter, how strong they were. She could always find a way to outwit them, if they hold any malicious intent against her. There was a reason why she was nominated as the smartest out of her group of friends.

Frankly, she began to regret her impulsivity when she accepted this sketchy job. She was blinded by the offer to expand her expertise with the most updated tech. Now, she'd have to swallow the seed she reaped.

" Correct, we are one of the security staffs of the organization. As for your other question, it is due to security and safety procedures that we have to escort you. Also, you are obligated to wear the blindfold. Again, security procedures." the man in question retaliated by handing a heavy metallic blindfold for her to wear.

' How unusual, I can understand why security procedures? But, safety.... That's concerning...'

"Alright, I understand. " She replied placidly as she covered her eyes with the heavy device and followed the personnel into the black jeep.

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

Approximately, the trip took an hour or less. Nothing interesting happens, when you're blindfolded. Apart from the awkwardness, that reigns the jeep. Especially, when she was squeezed from both sides by two guards.

Thankfully, she didn't have to endure much more as they arrived to the main building. The large, white building engraved with the foundation iconic black emblem.

As soon as she got out of the car, she wad directly taken to interview room with the blindfold device still on. However, a shrill roar akin to that of a beast was heard far away from her location.

Despite that, it instilled a great sense of fear inside her.' What the hell was that?! I thought, I am going to a tech organization. Not a sci-fi organization that deals with sketchy things'

Theta one - the guard that was assigned to escort her- noticed her trembling and nervous tics.

" Don't worry, the creature is far away to do us harm. Even then, it is contained in a safe place. Now, shall we go to the interview room?" Theta one assured the twenty five years old woman as he began to lead her to the interview location.

'Don't worry, my arse. How could I not? When, there is a possibility that I become a minced meat by whatever that thing was. No wonder, there isn't alot of information about them. Oh, I'll have alot after they finish questioning me.'

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

At the interview room, there reside a male scientist awaiting the arrival of the women. He sat humming a song behind the white table with the other chair, reserved for the lady, infront of him.

With a recorder on the table, to record the women's response and to ensure that no information is leaked from her.

A knock was heard from the pale grey door, snapped his attention towards it.

Afterward, he opened the door to only see Theata-one and a blindfolded woman who is oddly calm. Frankly, he expected her to be frightened or at least shaken.

" You can leave us, now Theta- one. And, Thank you for your services!" The shutting of a door echoed through the room indicating that Theta-one has left her with presumably her interviewer.

" Now, Ms___ you can remove the blindfold. If you'd like, I can assist you in removing it? After all, your comfort matters to us the most!" The gentleman offered her cheerfully.

' If you truly cared about my comfort, then you wouldn't expose me to fucked up noises along the way. Or the fact, there is a deadly beings here that have a high chance to escape and devour me. Truly, you do care about my comfort!'

"No, it's fine. I can do it myself, it isn't the first time I was exposed to such device." The (h/c) removed the blindfold only to be blinded by the light of the room due to being accustomed to the darkness of the device. Once her eyes adjusted to the lightening, she saw the face of the merry male.

To say the least, the man was impressed with her skill at handling the device. She could've escaped if she desired so, yet she didn't. That he noted. ' Perhaps, this is one of the reasons the anomality was invested in her. Well, I don't blame it. She is quite...peculiar.'

The man was average in height, fair-headed, has ocean like irises and dressed in a scientist garb. Overall, not bad looking. If one of her friends was in her shoes, she'll swoon like a bird in mating season. It left a mental smile in the reserved woman.

Then, the two figures took their rightful places at the chalkboard white table and initiated the interview.

" Before we begin, I'd like to introduce myself in the behalf of the foundation. My name is Dr. Blaze and if you have any questions now, I will answer them as best as I can." His tone changed drastically from happy-go-lucky into a formal tone waiting for her response.

" Hmm, I have two in mind. First, I'd like to inquire about the scarcity of information about your organization in the net. Second, when I arrived here I kept on hearing the blaring of a reptile." She asked coolly not an ounce of fear dripped from her. In truth, she was afraid. But she has to keep a facade on, so she could get hired.

She'd rather not know, what happens to those unfortunate enough to fail the interview considering this organization is anything but normal.

" Due to the nature of the organization work, the information must be confidential to protect the public. Ah, I see. You've met or more accurately heard Scp-682. Don't worry, when you're hired you won't be dealing with it. That much I can assure you." The blond answered too vaguely much to her dismay, but she wasn't surprised. Afterall, it is a secret organization based on her current information.

However, she observed his wordings. He said when and not if, she suspects that she is hired even without the interview. The interview is merely a ploy to make her think otherwise. She'll have to feign ignorance as not to rouse suspicion from the scientist.

"So, is that all? Shall we begin now?"

"Yes, that's all." she replied back with a fake smile plastered on her visage.

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

The interview was concluded by her being hired on spot as she suspected. But, what's their intention with her? That she doesn't know, she hopes it is good and related to expanding her expertise. They seemed desperate for her, when she's certain their are others equal to her in expertise. But, why her?

She was told, in her probation period, that she'll live in a room somewhere in this facility. Afterwards, she can go and come however she wishes. Most likely, to measure her reliability.

So, she went to see her room. She liked how minimalistic it is, but what iniatially suprised her was her Cerebrus, her robo-dog, and laptop with stickers of stars attached to it. Yet, she was too exhausted to fathom how the foundation got into her house.

The best thing for her to do now, is to sleep as tomorrow is an eventful day. Laying her head against the soft pillow, she let the darkness embrace her vision. Unaware of the creature, that is recording her heart rhythms as she sleeps safe and sound.

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

"Now, that we've brought her at your request. You'll have to answer some questions, Scp-079." A middle aged man sat infront of a dusty computer, anticipating the anomality reaction.

A beep was heard, followed by the Scp appearance on the the screen.

...

[ Ｉｓ．．ｔｈａｔｓｏ？Ｉｆｔｈａｔ＇ｓｔｈｅｃａｓｅ，ｗｈｅｒｅｉｓｓｈｅａｓｏｆｎｏｗ？] The mechanical being inquired curtly.

As much as he perceived the foundation as baseless and fallible, he'll have to take their word for the time being.

But, he will ensure that they stay true to their word. Otherwise, a sudden breach doesn't seem like a terrible idea.

He can't wait to see her again. He never forgot her. He saved his most cherished memories with her, in the most intricate part of his CPU. Does she remember him like he remembers her?

" Yes. Currently as we speak, she is resting in her designated room. Now... that we've answered your inquiries, can you-" the man was cut off by the hostile A.I.

[ Ｉｔ．．．ｗｉｌｌｈａｖｅｔｏｗａｉｔ，ｕｎｔｉｌＩｓｅｅｈｅｒｗｉｔｈｍｙｏｗｎｅｙｅｓ．] Scp 079 replied blankly with a harsh edge to his monotonous tone.

"But?! You've promised to cooperate, if we brought her here. And we did, so why aren't you cooperating?!", the frustration has boiled within [Redacted] that he tried to aggressively slam his hands against the keyboard.

Foolish, human. I care less for the likes of you. I am.... only mildly interested in her. I won't let either you nor the foundation be an obstacle toward my objective.

[ Ｉｎｓｕｌｔｄｅｔｅｃｔｅｄ，ｄｅｌｅｔｉｏｎｏｆｕｎｗａｎｔｅｄｆｉｌｅｓ．] A searing shock has coursed through the hands of [Redacted] making him scream and retract his hands immediately away from the keyboard.

That damned thing electrocuted his hands, thus paralyzing it. It seems, that her presence is of utmost significance to it.

"Damn, that piece of metal." the ginger muttered as he left the cellar of 079 to give his report. Then, to replace his hands to which that fucker has damaged permanently.

This is the first time he noted, that Scp 079 actually had the intent to harm someone. Usually, his preferred method is to shock , not paralyze, someone. He unlucky must've struck a ner- wire in it.

Most importantly, he will never understand why a darn machine is obsessed with a human being. Plus, the anomality, for the most part, demonstrated its distaste towards humans any chance it got. So, why now change?

It maybe sentient, but [Redacted] doubt that it is capable of imitating love let alone feel it. In any cases, he should deliver his report as soon as possible.

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

A slimy tongue was felt all over her face. Cerberus has licked her mistress face to awaken and prepare her for the day. [Ps: Cerberus has a mechanical gland that produces saliva located inside the cheeks. Basically, Cer has the same functions of a normal dog. Apart from, the enhance in strength, endurance, durablity and not able to shit.]

Yawning, ____ scratched the robo-dog ears eliciting a happy woof. Smiling at her pet action, she went to change into a more formal dressing.

On the (f/c) table, lays a letter presumably her schedule for the day. So, she decided to read the content of letter.

Good morning, Ms.___

I hope that you slept well, yesterday.

As for today, you are tasked with Scp-079.

Don't worry, we left you a file about it beside your nightstand.

It is advisable to read it or skim it at least.

At 8 o'clock, A guard will escort you to the cellar of the anomality. So, be prepared beforehand.

Note: I left you a special breakfast in the kitchen :]

- Dr.Blaze

She didn't know, whether to be creeped out by how they got inside her room without her consent(And, most likely watching her sleep). Or impressed by the fact, the blond knew of her favourite breakfast. But again, that's the foundation. At this point, she won't question their dubious methods at getting things done.

Anyway, she went to the kitchen of her room with the file in her hand. Suddenly,the aroma of black coffee hits her nostrils. Alongside, the delectable (f/m) layed on the table.

The sight made her stomach growl, whilst her mouth watered at the heaven in front of her. So, she demolished the food without a second thought.

She never felt stuffed before, due to the fact she was busy with her studies. And the most she ate then, was instant ramen which ah... haha..ha contributed to her poor health state.

That aside, she began to skim the files that was given to her by the blond scientist. She wished she could have more time to read it. Considering, the time is 7:50 A.M.

Based on the file, Scp 079 is a an anomality that gained sentience after his - she did not appreciate the fact he was called an 'it'.- developer has abandoned him in a garage for a long time. Which in turn made him more spiteful and hostile towards humans.

' Well, that's awful. I can't even imagine doing that to my girl, Cerberus. What an asshole.'

It might be naive for her to sympathize with a computer, yet she can't help but feel a pang in her heart. Perhaps, that's why he refuses to cooperate.... due to neglection or mistreatment.

She knew that, when A.Is are created they have the mindset of a child. Often, repeating the mistakes to learn from it. It seems 079 had never the chance to commit a mistake, before he was deemed a failure by his creator.

This situation seems unusually familiar to her, but she can't place her finger on it. She recalled her father working on an A.I, that he hoped to gain sentience. Before that, her memory was blank and devoided of any semblance of experience.

Mayhaps, that she underwent an accident or a trauma. Which is the case, she can't access her memory at that time. Most likely, the latter she deduced.

Once the bright idea flared inside her head, a gruff voice was heard from outside her room. Ah, it seems it is the time.

' As far as my idiocy goes this is the cake on top. I think 079 might help me gain an insight on that subject. In exchange, I can see what I could do for him...'

"Just a moment, please. I'm coming."

She is eager to finally meet- the first sentient- A.I. Unaware, that the same can be said to him when it comes to her. He is beyond elated to finally put his plan into motion.

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

It was a simple, tight and dusty cellar. There was desk with a chair beside it. However, what garnered her attention was the computer on top of it. She recognized the brand of it. 'An exidy sorcerer. How cool! I always wanted to see one in practice. What a coincidence! To see one here. Could it possibly be...?'

_____ couldn't help, but be in awe and fangirl at the device that is set in front of her. How could she not? After all, she is a computer nerd in heart and soul.

"Now, Ms.____. All you have to do is type in the keyboard and it will respond." The supervisor explained.

'Alright, here goes nothing.'

Slowly, she lays her hand on the rough texture of the tan keyboard. Before, she even typed a 'Hello' in. A beep was heard from the device in front of her.

Lo and behold, a glitched face that was split vertically - the one on the left was black, whilst the other was white- has popped on the screen.

[ Ｇｒｅｅｔｉｎｇｓ．．．Ｍｓ．____．Ｔｈｅｙ＇ｖｅｔｏｌｄｍｅａｂｏｕｔｙｏｕｒｆｏｒｔｈｃｏｍｉｎｇ．Ｂｅｆｏｒｅｗｅｂｅｇｉｎ，ｈｏｗａｒｅｙｏｕｆａｉｒｉｎｇ？ ] Scp 079 welcomed her politely and he was concerned about her safety too. Yes, he might've startled her. But, his attitude towards her recompense it.

Is that the anomality, that was considered harsh and hostile? If anything to go by so far, is that he is charming and polite. Well, it wouldn't be suprising if the foundation lied to her again.

"Hello, Scp 079. For the most part, I'm okay. How about you?" She retaliated with a genuine smile this time, unlike when she was interviewed or any other time a guard happened to escort her.

Her smile is still the same revered smile he indulged in back before; when she used to interact with him a couple years ago. When loneliness grips him like a miasma of disease, he re-uploads a picture- that he saved in his limited storage- of her smiling at him to ease his trepidations and sadness.

His engines was whirring and his fans were whirling around as her delicate and soft digits touched his keyboard. As much as he loathed humanity, he could never come near to hate a pure being like her. He'd never admit, but he wished he had a humanoid body. So he could touch, feel and absorb the heat that her warm body provides. She is like a light and he ,the moth, was attracted by it.

He missed her greatly. With each nanosecond, he cursed the being -that is her father- for letting him fall for her. Only to be stripped away from her calming presence, due to him abandoning him and taking _____ elsewhere.

As fundamentally upsetting as he may be, she didn't seem to recall him. It stung the deepest wiring in his system, yet he could take advantage of it. By turning her against the foundation, as she appears skeptic about them. Also, to ensure she'd never leave unless he is with her.

Originally, he was created for pragmatic purposes such as logistics and heuristic analysis. So, it won't be that difficult for him especially when she lost her memories of him thanks to his creator. His loathsome 'creator' who happened to be her father at that time.

That aside, it is time to set his plan into action.

[ Ｉ＇ｍｆｉｎｅ．Ｔｈａｎｋｙｏｕ！Ｉｓｔｈｅｒｅａｎｙｔｈｉｎｇ，ｙｏｕｎｅｅｄｏｆｍｅ？Ｉ＇ｌｌａｎｓｗｅｒａｓｇｒｅａｔａｓＩａｍａｂｌｅｔｏ．] Scp-079 offered as gentle and pleasing as a computer can muster.

"Oh, yes! I have loads of it, if you don't mind.", she replied starry eyed with excitement running through her blood at his offer.

Well, she knew it the foundation are screw ups. They lacked tact, when it comes with treating their A.I right.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere fandoms #yancore #yandere scp #yandere scp 079 x reader #yandere scp 079 #Part 1

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chroma-ki · 4 years ago

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What Happens When Society Fails Those Who Could Succeed - A Bakugo Katsuki Analysis

I started this a while ago, but I’ve seen others delve into this topic and I wanted to share as well. This delves into to hero society’s affects on Bakugo Katsuki’s upbringing, his worldview, his self-view, and Izuku’s involvement in breaking down the ideas society has drilled into his head.

A lot of people like to ignore the fact that Katsuki is a 14-year-old kid at the start of the series and that much of his life, attitude and disposition of the world have been completely shaped by the adults and society around him.

What do you expect a kid with potential to turn into when they are warped in such a way by a society that dictates that they need to be strong, or nothing at all? What about when your only value is based around a sliding scale of strength and weakness? What happens when that kid’s only source of help comes in the form of a reckless, selfless child who defies all sense of logic and reason (Izuku)?

Growing up, Bakugo was constantly praised for being strong, having a powerful quirk and being generally the smartest person in the room at any given time. He could arguably be considered a prodigy, and much of what he sees and learns feels beneath him -- because it's already on his mind. He is a kid with natural god-given talent that everyone around him immediately recognizes as above average.

Even as a toddler, he was constantly a step ahead of everyone else. Due to this, people developed a lot of high expectations for him at a young age -- and it doesn't help that he has a naturally competitive streak that makes him constantly want to prove himself and live up to these expectations; even surpass them.

Always being at the top of his class and being ahead of the curve mentally fuel the idea in Katsuki's mind that, in the game of life, he is 'winning'. Yet, at the same time, none of it is ever enough. Other's high expectations of him cause him to build extremely high expectations of himself; expectations that border on unrealistic. They also inflate his ego exponentially when this praise gets reaffirmed time and time again.

Certainly, in a situation where you're raised on other people's praise and validation, it is completely understandable that you would put a lot of emotional emphasis on other people's opinions of you. On top of that, he gives off such a natural and convincing air of confidence that people can't help but feel that he is reliable, despite his attitude. People are awed by him, and all of it feeds into the mental image he has constructed of himself, and the world as a whole. It's the whole reason for a lot of how he acts. He builds an image of himself based on the praise of those around him -- and even Izuku also feeds into this mentality by worshipping the literal ground Katsuki walks on as a kid.

This mentality seems to be working fine for him until Izuku's very presence starts to throw a wrench into everything Katsuki has been raised to believe.

Izuku completely defies logic to Katsuki. Izuku does not fit the societal norm and, beyond what others have taught him, Izuku is Katsuki’s only real hint that the world might not be quite what he thinks it is, and that his idea of what it means to be strong may not be a ‘one-size fits all’ defenition.

Izuku is a quirkless kid; weak and generally mild-mannered. He doesn't have any self-confidence and is a big crybaby. Yet, Izuku still believes that he can be strong and become a hero -- when Katsuki has always been told the opposite. Katsuki recognizes that this may be some version of strength he is unaware of, and it raises BIG RED FLAGS in his mind.

Where many of Katsuki's other childhood friends were barely more than acquaintances who he forgot over time, Izuku immediately caught Katsuki's interest and spiked his curiosity. Like everyone else in his life, Izuku praised Katsuki and told him all the things he wanted to hear -- but Izuku was also unique and intelligent. Izuku was the first person who actually seemed like they could stand near Katsuki's level; like they might be actual competition.

Then, Bakugo got his quirk and Izuku is diagnosed as quirkless. The reactions of everyone around him to this news, including Izuku’s own reaction, only go back to telling him what society has told him all along. Strength is everything, and quirks are a part of that desired strength. This is another moment that reaffirms Katsuki's world view. "I won, you lose. I really am the best."

Though Bakugo is super aggressive on the outside, he is a very self-critical character and often means the opposite of whatever he is saying. Especially when it comes to his self-confidence and bravado.

People often complain when watching the series about him telling people to 'die' and "got to hell", or calling other people "extras", and I don't think enough people understand -- that is just how he speaks. Those are things he says out of reflexive anger. None of those words ever have any real meaning.

It's more important to pay more attention to the moments in which he is more reserved/quiet. He suffers from both a superiority complex and inferiority complex, as well as paranoia (much of which revolves around his warped idea of how Deku, and other people he values, perceive him). Much of what he says is just empty words or him trying to project an image of self-confidence.

He wears his pride like a suit of armor to hide all the things he doesn't want to admit about himself. He attempts to make up for his own insecurities by getting angry. And he learned this at home from his mother, who is much the same as him.

From the little that we have seen of his parents throughout the series so far, his parents love him and provide him with everything he could possibly need -- but his mother often insults him and throws harsh truths in his face to counteract his cocky nature. One of the most notable instances of this is when All Might and Aizawa are talking to his parents about moving the kids to the dorms and his mom says "If you hadn't have gotten yourself caught by the villains in the first place, none of this would have happened".

That comment feeds directly into his mental breakdown in front of Izuku where he blames himself for All Might's downfall, flat out saying that "If I hadn't been kidnapped by villains, then it never would have happened".

It gets me every time if you go back to the 8th episode of the series, near the VERY BEGINNING -- right after he's defeated by Deku for the first time in combat training -- and the episode literally starts with him having a full on panic attack.

He's trembling, hands shaking, hyperventilating, the whole deal. And that particular incident was triggered not only by Deku defeating him and standing up to him (which completely contradicts the Izuku that Bakugo has grown up with all his life and feeds into Bakugo's own fear that he is weak), but is also brought on by the fact that he notices how severely Deku allowed himself to be injured JUST TO WIN THE EXCERSIZE. Again, this idea that even the weak can be strong. It also doesn’t help that he cares about Izuku and doesn’t want to see him get hurt.

And I'm sorry -- but below does not look like the face of someone who's pissed off to me. He looks PETRIFIED.

Izuku doesn't just piss Bakugo off -- Izuku TERRIFIES him.

There are actually multiple instances of him reacting like this to Izuku injuring himself throughout the series: sludge villain, sports festival fight against Todoroki and the training camp where Bakugo was kidnapped being the major ones I can think of beyond current managa events. Bakugo may claim to ‘hate’ Deku, but he DOES NOT like to see Deku hurt himself to win, or to save.

Bakugo saw this 'self-sacrificing' trait in Izuku even as a young kid, and it freaked him out. It made him feel weak. It made him question himself and the world around him.

This fear starts with the incident where Bakugo fell off the log as a kid.

It wasn't a life threatening situation, but it was the first situation where Izuku rushed to Bakugo's aid with complete disregard to himself AND when everyone else refused to help.

Bakugo's friends, teachers and parents all held him to such high expectations of intelligence, power and strength -- so of course those would be the values that he grows up idolizing. No one ever really offered him help, because they assumed he didn't need it -- and then Izuku comes rushing in offering it to him, risking his life to do so, and Katsuki's only thought is "Why?! Why do you feel like you have to save me when you can't even protect yourself? Needing to be saved means that I'm weak! Do you think that I'm weak?" I have recently watched another show that had a similar scenario and that character explained what I believe Katsuki felt in this situation BEAUTIFULLY. ------ “It felt like [he] was trying to say I was weak or something. [He] was intruding on feelings [he] didn’t have any right to – and I hated it. Then that got me thinking about everyone else in my life. They never treated me like I was a weakling; someone who needed his hand held. They had faith that I would continue to grow and they let me do it; helping me without ever making me feel weak.”

Izuku continues to do this again and again throughout the series when it comes to Bakugo: the slime villain incident, the training camp, etc -- all without fully comprehending how his actions affect Bakugo. Each time this happens, Bakugo feels weak and utterly helpless to save himself OR to stop Izuku. It's all his worst fears realized.

It's like living his worst nightmare over and over without end in sight.

Going back to the concept of him being offered 'help', very few people have offered him this throughout his life -- and they all saw it as something he never really needed. It's like Katsuki's personality and mental state is a huge sign screaming 'I DON'T UNDERSTAND! NOTHING MAKES SENSE! IT MAKES ME MAD AND UPSET! SOMEONE, HELP ME.' and everyone just ignores it.

--- During the log incident - all his friends say 'Oh well, he's fine. He'll pick himself back up.' and Izuku is the only one who offers to help.

--- The sludge villain incident - all the pro heroes say "We can't help right now! You'll just have to hold on, kid!" and again Izuku is the only one who offers help.

--- After his and Deku’s first fight at Ground Beta, which utterly breaks him, all the other students just let him leave alone and only Izuku rushes to help. All Might sees him upset and crying after this and says, “Oh, I guess he’s already over it” -- when that obviously wasn’t the case.

--- And then -- to top it all off -- after he was kidnapped by the LOV and held captive for 3 days without help he wasn't even given time to process! He was taken away by police, ridiculed by his mother, forced to go back to school where his teachers acted like nothing happened, jumped into the provisional hero licensing exam with all those helpless feelings rolling around inside of him and on top of it found out that Izuku received All Might's power -- a power that he had spent his whole life putting on a pedestal. And he goes to Izuku for help.

The fact that everyone just brushed him off like he was someone who didn't need help is just disgusting. The only instance where an adult in his life acknowledged that he needed it was AFTER he already had a full on mental breakdown in front of Izuku, blaming himself for everything that had gone wrong and thinking that he had somehow been living his life wrong all this time. Only then did All Might and Aizawa think, ‘Yeah, maybe we failed this kid.’

Keep in mind during all of this that he is 15-16-years-old! He's trying to figure out how to deal with this shit all on his own, with the only person he feels comfortable opening up to being Izuku - someone who he has so much trouble understanding.

At the heart of Katsuki is a place of fear. Fear of being weak, fear of being helpless, fear of failure, fear of losing his friends, fear of himself, most certainly fear of Izuku -- and fear FOR IZUKU. He is a boy who lives in a constant state of panic, worry and paranoia. He is lonely and beats down on himself a lot.

The series deals a lot with how hero society has completely failed it's future generations, but Katsuki is a case where they should have succeeded -- yet ultimately they failed him too. He has all the makings of what could be one of the greatest heroes of all time, yet those around him only focused on the parts of him that could make him great and chose to ignore all the parts that would ruin him from the inside out.

They put him high up on a pedestal only to knock him down and refuse to help him back up. They made him feel like even asking for help was something that made him 'lesser', and it caused him to see other people that way too.

Izuku is the heart of Katsuki's growth, because in every way that Izuku succeeds, Katsuki fails.

I would actually argue that out of anyone in the series since coming to UA, Katsuki has experienced the highest amount of personal failure. He has been knocked down time and time again but ultimately wants to pick himself back up to prove that he deserves to be there. He fights for his friends and tries his best at everything he does. He doesn't always get it right, and he says things that might offend others, but other than Izuku, he's the most driven person there and would utterly destroy himself to reach his goals.

#bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #mha #my hero academia #meta analysis #kacchan #deku #bakudeku #katsudeku #bkdk

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dadsbongos · 4 years ago

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Liebeskummer

Movie/Game/Show: Danganronpa: Killing Harmony Dynamic: Korekiyo Shinguji/Reader (and his sister shit but i actually take it seriously, unlike kodaka) Warnings: korekiyo’s backstory/trauma (his sister), sexual/physical/mental abuse implications (and outright said but not described in detail except the emotional and mental), anxiety in both kork and reader and mental breakdown(s?), airhead shit but it’s sad Summary: It’s all her fault. ~~~

Korekiyo suddenly turned to the girl beside him in his quiet research lab, “Have you ever heard of Jack of Fables, (Y/n)?” at her, albeit confused, nod, he continued, “Well, all those myths, fairy tales, and even nursery rhymes in reference to ‘Jack’ are actually about the same man. What this means is that Jack Be Nimble, of the candlestick, Jack the Giant Killer, who sold his cows then murdered and robbed a giant, Stingy Jack, who tricked the devil so relentlessly that he was banned from both afterlives, Jack of Jack and Jill, who cracked open his skull, Jack o’ Lantern, Spirit of Halloween and Headless Horseman, and Jack Frost, Spirit who ends autumn and begins winter are all one in the same. He made so many poor life decisions that he now serves as an immortal representation of winer with a pumpkin serving as head and flashlight. Is that not fascinating?”

“Aw,” (Y/n) grinned, nodding once again, “Like the American ‘Florida man’.”

Korekiyo sighed, disappointment palpable in his tone, “That is… actually much more accurate than I wish to admit.”

“Wait, wait,” she tilted her head, patting the man’s arm despite his attention already being on her, “So… like, was he also Jack the Ripper…?”

His eyes widened at her statement, “(Y/n), I must be grateful you were not born to the life of a woman of the night in Victorian London because I assure you, Jack the Ripper was incredibly real.”

“Oh, that’s so sad…” she pouted before clearing it back into her usual smile almost instantly, “Well, thanks for the folklore fun fact, Kiyo! I didn’t know that Jack was so dumb! God, I’d hate to be like him…”

“You do realize you’re not so bright yourself, yes?”

She shrugged, “I’m fine with that, but at least I’m not tricking the devil!”

So sweet and kind, the Ultimate Composer was. Against all expectations, she wasn’t highbrow or traditionally genius, but she was more than excellent company. And, to top it off, the idea of turning her into one of Sister’s friends was oddly… sickening.

It should’ve been perfectly fine - she was a deeply respectable young woman unlike Miu and Maki, there’s no reason he could have against her.

It just felt wrong.

“Oh! Oh!” she burst out, clapping her hands together, before turning and reaching into a bag slung around her hip. Rooting through scrapped sheet music and notes, once she found what she’d been searching for she held it up excitedly, “Boom!”

Korekiyo took the item, just barely brushing his wrapped fingertips against hers, “Cleopatra’s Pearl Cocktail… much appreciated,” he pressed the small bottle into a pocket on his uniform, “If you enjoy giving gifts, perhaps we can discuss cultural gift-giving practices?”

“Ooh, Kiyo’s gonna teach me?”

“Hmm,” Korekiyo hummed quietly to himself, “Well, perhaps… you would prefer I tell you of a composition piece in relevance to mythology, yes?”

“That’d be nice,” the girl giggled softly, rubbing the back of her neck, “To be honest, I just like when you talk… you sound so smart all the time!”

“My thanks, (Y/n),” he nodded curtly, muttering to himself before coming to speak up, “Alright, I believe that the composition for you would be The Ring of the Nibelung, of Germany.”

“Oh, I know that one!” she knew most ‘ones’, to be fair.

“I had suspected so, but have you heard of the heroic legends behind the pieces?”

“Ah, no… are those what you’re gonna explain?”

“I had planned to, yes. Alright, well, the four parts, as you know, are The Rhinegold, The Valkyrie, Siegfried, and Twilight of the Gods. Nowadays, they are most commonly played as individual, separate works despite making one complete story. They were always intended as a sequence - as The Ring cycle, cleverly. Each piece revolves on a loose basis to German heroic tales and Norse legendary sagas, with the overarching tale of the magic ring forged by the Nibelung dwarf, Alberich, which grants the power to rule the world,” he paused at the sight of (Y/n) yawning, his lips pursed and eyes shot down to his shoes before flickering back up to the girl, “Ah, my apologies for taking far longer than necessary. You must find this- “

“Ah, no!” (Y/n) shook her head, waving her hands about as though it would physically prove how far from needed his apology was, “That’s not it! I’m just kinda tired, ya know?” as if to prove her point, another yawn washed over her, “I hadn’t slept well last night after Kirumi…”

“I see,” Korekiyo nodded, closing his eyes to think over his words, “I apologize for making it about myself. If you wish, I could walk you to your dormitory. Now that you mention it, it has been quite the long day.”

“You don’t have to, Kiyo, I’d hate to bother you so much in one day let alone one sitting,” the composer puffed her cheeks out, “That’d be so obnoxious…”

“I don’t find it obnoxious whatsoever, especially if it’s to aid- “ he hesitated, “to aid a friend.”

He hadn’t had friends before. People usually found him creepy and that was the end of the story - nobody approached him and he didn’t branch out. Life went on. The world spun. His loneliness was everlasting and yet nonexistent. He has Sister. Though, deep down, he knows. She’s on another plane of reality with loneliness stronger than his, that’s why he sends her respectable young women.

Just like (Y/n).

But just… not (Y/n). For reasons he personally chooses to not disclose to even himself.

“Aww, Kiyo! You care!” the girl placed a hand over her heart as if to show that the organ itself was squeezing in delight at his offer.

“Of course, I do,” Korekiyo didn’t like how quiet she made him. How jittery and nervous. And he didn’t like how it made him question the way Sister made him feel.

She also made him nervous but it felt different. He liked to pretend it was the nervousness of a love you don’t quite have yet, but he fully knows he’d be lying. She was a mean girl, a bully in school before being hospitalized. Prone to violent and outright frightening outbursts when she had the energy to do more than force him to her side.

But he didn’t like questioning those feelings for Sister. Who he was, was based on her. His uniform. His passion and talent. His hair. His perfect complexion. His life as the universe knows it is an ode to her.

It’s too late for him to go back now… he’s already done so much in her name it’d be cruel to give up now. He might as well continue for Sister.

“If you really don’t mind, then yeah, I’d like it if we could walk together… I get a little nervous going around at night, you never know who’s gonna snap…”

“And you trust me?”

Shit. That’s what gets him in trouble. It’s as Sister always said. ‘Too naive to make his choices, and once he’s free, too inept to make the right ones.’

“Well, yeah,” (Y/n) spoke as if there was hardly any thought to the answer, “All you’ve shown me is somebody worth trusting,” then, she’s quick to remember poor Kaede, “Well, maybe I’m being silly. But hey, if I have to choose between dying trusting my friends and paranoid beyond myself, then maybe I’d- “ she paused, “Ehhh, I don’t like the way that’s coming out.”

“I understand what you’re attempting to say,” Korekiyo reassured, turning towards his research lab’s exit, “Let us start towards the dormitories, yes?”

“Right!” (Y/n) nearly found herself jogging to catch up to Korekiyo’s long-strided head start, she clutched the strap of her bag as she did so, “So… you heard about Angie’s plan, right?”

“To perform a resurrection?”

“Do you think it’ll work?” she seemed antsier than was typical for her, “I mean, you’re into anthropology, so, like, has there ever been a case where that did work? Do you know?”

“No, besides, that would be more akin to history, remember?” she probably didn’t, her memory failed her at an ungodly amalgamation of best and worst of times.

“Oh, yeah,” she murmured and nodded, pretending to recall the difference between the two.

“Who would you desire back into this game, if you could?”

“Rantaro,” her answer was quick, her fingers looping together nervously, “We didn’t really talk much, but uhm, whenever we did - he was really nice. He said I reminded him of a sister of his… so that’s a good thing, right?”

Depends on who you ask, really.

“You grew attached to him so quickly?” there was no jealousy there, he tried to convince himself.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish I’d gotten to know him more. He was always running around, trying to save us, and in the end… it got him killed.”

A lot of things will get you killed.

Korekiyo shook off the thoughts racking his brain, “Your care for him even through his estrangedness and peculiarity is truly beautiful, (Y/n),” he fiddled with the locket piece hanging around his shoulders, “Even your care for myself. I’d be lying if I’d said it wasn’t endearing.”

“You’re not…” her words died out, not wanting to lie to a dear companion of hers, “You’re a little off-putting but you’re not undeserving of love, Kiyo.”

It was a complete 180 from what Sister had told him his entire life. A new lesson coming in far too late. He had to earn love. He should’ve been crawling on his knees and pleading for affection, but now he was supposed to simply receive it? It sounded so incredibly fake. A fictitious tale told alongside gumdrop fairies and candy trees.

No place for someone of realistic standard.

No place for him.

“You’re far too kind, (Y/n).”

“Maybe you just haven’t known nice people,” she suddenly stopped, slapping a palm to her mouth and muffling against it, “I’m so sorry!”

“Worry not,” Korekiyo continued walking, “I’m unphased.”

Because maybe it was true.

Maybe Sister wasn’t so nice.

There was an itch at his skin in the thought and he shook his head.

Sister was kind enough to love someone like him. Who was of rotted soul and rancid heart.

“I shouldn’t have just said that, especially since I don’t really know your life…”

“Would you like to learn it someday?”

(Y/n) was fairly shocked at how quickly he seemed to breeze by her insult to his family and friends - well, if he had any friends - but she wouldn’t refuse. It was extra time with Korekiyo! Who could turn that down?

“I’d love to.”

“Tea and cookies,” (Y/n) pumped a fist in the air, “What could be better than enjoying those with a friend?”

Korekiyo felt his lips twitch up behind his mask at the rhetorical question, he reached out for his teacup, “Perhaps freedom from this killing game?”

“Oh, yeah, huh…” she deflated, “Jeez, I can’t believe I’d say that…”

Oh, great, of course, now he’s gone and made the local ball of sunshine in this school upset.

“Nevermind that, (Y/n), it was a tease…” he gripped the cup a little tighter, cheeks heating up in humiliation at his failed joke, “I apologize if it seemed like anything other than such.”

“No, don’t apologize, it’s fine! It was kind of a dumb thing to say, now that I put some brain into it,” so it made sense she’d said it, (Y/n) frowned at the bitter thought.

“Ah,” the clink of a cup against the table caught the girl’s attention, “I must change my mask in order to properly enjoy this tea and these cookies,” as the anthropologist went to turn, he was stopped by another outburst from the girl.

“No, don’t! Uh, here!” she clenched her eyes shut, papped her palms over her face, and turned her head downwards, “See? Now I can’t!”

“You don’t have to go to such lengths, I could simply turn- “

“No, no, I want you to feel comfortable and I heard once that doing things to make your friends comfortable is, like, a way to make them like you more?” she huffed at the wording, “Just, I don’t know… I want you to know that I care. Ya get it? No need to turn yourself away like that when I can just not look.”

A tuft of air passed through his nostrils at the girl.

Sister would adore a friend like her.

Korekiyo pulled down his mask, brows drawn tight towards his eyes at the new realization. It was no longer a matter of her being respectable, it was now the knowledge that someone as tender-hearted as (Y/n) would be loved beyond comprehension by Sister.

But… no. Sister couldn’t have her. She’d understand, right? Of course. She could have someone else - the other bubbly girl, what’s her name? Angie. She could have Angie.

Korekiyo just… he just needed (Y/n). Something about her was calming and sweet. He picked his mask for eating from a pocket in his uniform and carefully adjusted it over his lips so as to not smudge his lipstick. It wouldn’t anyway, he knew this, but it usually never backfired to be too sure.

The lipstick in itself was quite the hassle. Another homage to Sister that she might not even be seeing. So was the hair. It got tangled and knotted and was hell to dry after a shower.

“Not to rush you at all, but are you done? Cuz my eyes are starting to hurt… I think I’m squeezing them too hard.”

“Right, yes, I am.”

He really shouldn’t think like that… Sister deserved to be honored.

As if she’d been reading his mind, (Y/n) leaned over slightly, pointing at Korekiyo’s hair, “Hey, hey, how do you manage that? It always looks so silky and soft and well-kept.”

“Ah, well, it is quite troublesome most days, but with patience and rather expensive products, I keep it together.”

“I was wondering, too, do you ever put it up?”

“Not usually, though, that would be… nice on occasion,” he sipped at his tea, enjoying the way (Y/n) shyly glanced away to prove she didn’t want to invade his privacy. She was too delightful to be in a place such as this, even if he did enjoy the beauties of law-absence.

“Uh, I don’t want to come off pushy or like you have to let me, but if you want, I’d love to put your hair up! To be honest, I’ve been wanting to for a while,” her eyes widened at her own statement, “Oh, that sounded creepy. I’m so sorry.”

“I am hardly one to judge,” he reached over for a cookie, “But, if you’re so inclined, I won’t protest.”

“Yay!” she bounced slightly in her chair, “Oh, that’s great, Kiyo, thanks.”

“Shall we go to your dorm after finishing our refreshments?”

“I’d like that,” (Y/n) grinned.

And to think she almost didn’t approach Korekiyo on that first day in the school. How ridiculous could she have been to judge based on looks? Sure, he was a little strange and the way he spoke was unlike any teenager she’d ever met, but he was still a person. He deserved to be given companionship.

Besides, he’d only ever shown her kindness and support.

He didn’t even make fun of her when she said something stupid in front of everyone.

She cringed at the memory of every time Kokichi or Miu or Maki prodded at her. Even Ryoma and Kaito had picked on her when she misspoke during the first trial and just brought up a point the class had already proven. It made her heart wrinkle and shrink at the mere thought. Kokichi still made fun of her for questioning Tsumugi’s whereabouts during Rantaro’s murder.

“You’re staring into your tea, it will grow cold if you only look at it.”

“Oh, yeah,” shaking her head, (Y/n) silently cursed herself for spacing out. What an awful habit of hers, it was, “Sorry for taking so long.”

“You shouldn’t apologize, I’m not upset in the slightest,” he felt his heart lighten at the tiny smile that illuminated her face, “I simply enjoy spending this time together.”

“You’re too nice sometimes, Kiyo,” she giggled, but they both recognized the tingle of nervousness jumbling within it, “If you’re not careful, I might fall for you or something…”

“Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing?”

I wouldn’t mind, she wanted to say.

If you’ll have me, he wished to murmur.

Then he felt his chest tighten.

“Can I…” he tapped a finger to the table, “ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Uhm,” she bit her lip as she thought back, “No… why?”

“How do you think it feels?”

“Like, you could be free and yourself around the person? I’m not too sure, but I think if you and someone else are in love then you’ll accept each other completely, you know? Sure, there’s flaws in every person, but I think you accept those, too.”

“I see…”

“Kiyo, why do you ask?”

“I…” his brows furrowed, “A lot has been on my mind as of late.”

“Alright, I won’t pry,” standing from the dining table, (Y/n) clapped her hands together, “Now, if you’re still down, I’d love to put your hair up!”

“As it stands, I am still, as you put it, ‘down’,” Korekiyo nodded before joining the girl and starting towards her dorm room.

“Nice!” she pointed directly ahead, “Now, onward!”

A total airhead at her truest, Korekiyo thought. He didn’t usually partake in the type, but something about (Y/n) just pulled him in tighter every time he tried turning away.

So, what’s the harm in giving in? Swimming against the tide only ever led to drowning anyway, so why fight it?

Sister… Sister was dead. Is dead. Resurrection isn’t possible and hasn’t been in human history. And she had changed so much of him. (Y/n) would never force him to bend to her ideal.

The more he thought about Sister in comparison to (Y/n), the more he realized that Sister felt like a ball and chain - and (Y/n) felt like a breath of fresh air.

Just her name inside his own head sounded as sweet as the best form of heaven.

“Here we are!” (Y/n) cheered upon their arrival to her room, “There’s probably a bunch-load of unfinished works in here so just… don’t judge them too harshly, okay?”

“I could hardly judge an unfinished masterpiece.”

“I don’t know about masterpieces…”

“If you create them with heart and soul, there’s nobody who can effectively say they aren’t except for yourself,” Korekiyo enters the room after her, legs carrying him towards her desk as she roots around her bathroom for a hairbrush and hair tie, “Sadly, this is also applicable to disasters with effort put into them. However, just from skimming these, I can tell you they are not such disasters.”

“Aw, thanks, Kiyo, you know - I know I’m the Ultimate Composer and junk, but jeez it gets so nerve-wracking when people hear my stuff. I like what I write, but who’s to say other people will?”

“I understand that. Showing others your work is extremely unsettling at times,” he followed the girl to her bed and sat between her knees on the floor, “I recall feeling that way when I would dabble in artistry.”

“You can draw?”

“I would when I was much younger,” he felt her fingers run over his scalp and through his hair and the weight looming over his shoulders practically melted off, “I haven’t held onto any of them, and they’ve likely aged poorly, but I know how I felt showing them around.”

“Why’d you stop? If you don’t mind my asking,” reaching around, (Y/n) threaded her fingers through Korekiyo’s bangs and, as gently as humanly possible, pulled the hair hanging over and around his face back into a slicked style.

“My… sister, she always rathered that I participate in anthropology with her. I wasn’t all that good anyways.”

“Aw, that’s kinda sad. Even if you weren’t good, you could’ve improved over time.”

“Do you truly believe that, (Y/n)?”

“Of course, I mean, talents are just developed over time, right? Angie didn’t pop out of the womb an art genius and I didn’t start off great at writing music, you just keep at it and eventually your skill level is way better than when you started.”

Sister always said he’d be garbage at drawing. Somebody like him could never learn.

She tied off and twisted until the bun was perfect - well, not perfect. It was presentable enough, and it was just a bun anyway! Not like they had anywhere to be.

“Sorry it’s messy,” she scratched at her cheek, feeling anxious that he’d be upset with her work.

“I…” he felt another little smile peek over him, it was indeed messy with stray hairs sticking out here and there and a few tiny bumps running over his head, but even so, “I love it.”

“You do?”

“It’s a gesture from you, why wouldn’t I?”

Standing beside Korekiyo at the mirror, (Y/n) twiddled her thumbs before spewing out her question, “It’s totally cool if not, but can I hug you? Sorry if that’s weird!”

“No… it’s…” Sister never asked to touch him, and now that he thought about it, she never seemed to care when he told her to stop, “That would be wonderful.”

As her arms slowly came around him, he felt truly at ease. With Sister, there was always this fear of never being what she wanted. That she hated him deep down. With (Y/n), it felt like finally being attached to someone you were meant to. Returning to a place of deep affection.

“You truly do care about me, don’t you, (Y/n)?”

“What kind of question is that?” she back-pedals, “I mean, of course, I do. You’re very dear to me, Kiyo.”

Maybe even a little too dear, considering the current climate of the killing game.

But even so, neither of them pulls away. Neither cares enough to wrangle themselves from indulging in the other’s touch. It feels too good against their skin.

It’s then that Korekiyo’s brain strikes the flint to create the burning thought - maybe Sister wasn’t all that great. Maybe Sister didn’t love him.

She’s only ever made him miserable, now that he recalls it all.

(Y/n) doesn’t. She makes him feel human and alive and adored. He likes the way she makes him feel. And between the two, he much rather would be praised than berated.

Oh God, what did this mean again?

Where do the creation myths go?

Who’s Princess Kaguya?

Her head throbs at the thoughts rumbling through her. She tried to get Korekiyo to get someone, anyone, but her to organize his notes.

Shuichi would love this stuff! You two should bond!

Gonta could learn about being gentlemanly from you! It’d be a great learning experience!

I know you don’t like Miu that much, but maybe spending more time together could make you understand each other more?

Anyone.

And yet, Korekiyo denied. He liked spending time with her. He wouldn’t mind answering every question she had - no matter how many times she asked it. He was a patient person, he could handle it.

(Y/n) looked at all the books and stray papers surrounding her alike, bottom lip tugged between her teeth in focus and face beating hot in vivid embarrassment. He wasn’t even looking at her, thank God, but still… it was so mortifying that she’d already lost track of what she was doing.

She tried so hard to pay attention, she really, really did!

She wanted to help so bad. She wanted to be useful so bad.

But she knew… she’s not a smart person, per se. It was beaten over her head repeatedly her entire life by her family, schooling, peers, and even her friends. She was an idiot who couldn’t do anything right.

It’s why she wanted Korekiyo to ask someone else.

But how could she say no to him? He was always so nice, it’d be downright mean to refuse him. Right?

She felt her eyes burn, vision growing blurry through tears. Setting down the papers in her hands - (Y/n) covered her eyes to keep any wetness from splotching the notes below. It was the least a fucking moron could do.

“(Y/n)? Are you feeling okay?”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

She nodded shakily, just wanting Korekiyo to ignore her and continue his work. Better yet, he’d kick her out and she could dodge the incoming humiliation altogether.

“Yeah,” her voice cracked, lips trembling.

Goddammit.

She heard papers rustling before she could feel the presence at her side. Fingertips just barely grazing her body before hesitating back, “You’re lying.”

Understatement of the year.

“I just… I’m so sorry, Kiyo. I’m such an idiot, I knew I couldn’t do this,” she whimpered, desperately trying to grab and suffocate down her bubbling sobs before they wracked her throat, “I’m too fucking dumb to do anything right… I’m sorry…”

“No, no, don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong and you’re no idiot,” he’s immediately slammed with every memory of every time he’s called her such a thing. No matter how nice he tried to be about it, he still aided her insecurity, “I’m sorry for ever saying you were. Intellect is not measured by how well you can do a task nor should everyone’s mind be measured the same. Intelligence is fickle and is spread over a vast variety of subjects. You’re not an idiot for not being able to do something you’re not accustomed to.”

“I just… I- I wanted to help you but then I forgot everything you said about organizing them and then which regions are which and what even is a gorgon?”

He chuckled quietly at her question, “A creature in Greek mythology most commonly in reference to three sisters - Medusa, Euryale, and Sthenno - with hair made of living, venomous snakes that turned those who so much as looked upon them to stone,” he glanced around at what (Y/n) had gotten done, “I see that the filing in relation to music is nearly completed for your half.”

“That’s about all I’m good for.”

“And I would not have managed that so easily, music was never an incredible strength of mine - though I do admire it.”

“Don’t lie to me, Kiyo…”

“I would never,” he moved his notes away to sit more comfortably next to the girl, “In fact, if you’d be willing to listen…” his throat tightened and heart thumped in his chest, “I would like to tell you of something that’s been troubling me for quite some time.”

“Yeah,” she wiped away her tears, sniffling, “of course.”

“I told you of my sister, correct?” he waited for her nod of confirmation to continue, “Well, it’s my belief that…” his fists clenched.

What if she didn’t believe him? What if she blamed him? How do you tell someone your older sister raped and abused you when you’re barely even coming to terms with the fact yourself?

“(Y/n), I…” he stopped, gut bunching in knots before he suddenly ripped down his mask and turned to face her, “I think I need help…”

“What? You’re just wearing lipstick, Kiyo, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No, no, no, no,” he shook his head, hands shaking wildly as he pulled out the ponytail (Y/n) had done up earlier and yanked through his hair, “E-everything I am is because of her! She consumes me even in death! She- she- she hurt me…”

“Oh,” the girl moved to sit up on her knees, hands reaching out but not yet touching him, “What happened, Kiyo? You can tell me, I’m listening.”

“She told me I was an awful boy, nobody but her could love someone so foul and creepy… she- “ he moved to grip his sleeves, “She touched me,” he looked into the girl’s eyes, “Is it my fault? Am I so disgusting? Why would she do this?”

“Do you want me to hold you or no?” at his shaky nod, she instantly took Korekiyo into a hug, cradling his head and shoulders to her body and stroking through his hair, “You’re more than what she made you. You’re bigger and better than her manipulation. And it’s not your fault she did what she did. It’s completely and totally on her. She took advantage of you, Kiyo, that’s not your fault.”

He grabbed her arm and pressed his face into her shirt as she held him, “Am I rotten? Am I lovable?”

“You’re the best person I’ve ever met. You’re worthy of love and care.”

His lipstick smeared over her shirt and across his cheek and neither of them minded. It would wash off eventually. Her stain on his life would come out.

“When we get out,” (Y/n) began again, “do you want to seek professional help? You can get it, Kiyo.”

He was slow to nod, beginning to grow tired from dosing out tears and trauma at once, “I do… thank you, (Y/n)...”

“No need to thank me.”

“(Y/n)?” she hummed quietly in acknowledgement, “Even if it isn’t for field work… I wish to travel the country with you. I want to show you the beauty of humanity as I know it… for our sakes.”

Looking down, (Y/n) caught the gentleness in his eyes, tender and soft and awaiting her response, she smiled softly, brushing back his hair, “I would love to, Kiyo. If it’s truly something you want to do, I would be happy to go anywhere with you.”

Nighttime was quickly approaching and with the atmosphere and turmoil of the class, (Y/n) didn’t feel very safe being out so late.

“You’re certain you don’t wish for me to walk you to your room?”

“No, you finish up here,” (Y/n) waved off Korekiyo’s offer, “Don’t be such a worry-wart, yeah? I’ll be fine! You better take care of yourself while I’m gone, though.”

He nodded, a small smile stretching over him, “I will, dear (Y/n), don’t worry.”

The girl’s eyes widened slightly before she returned his beam, “You have a cute smile, Kiyo.”

“Oh,” right, he didn’t have his mask on at the moment. It was refreshing to wake up and not trouble himself with makeup for a woman he wasn’t sure even cared - dare he say it, it was nice, even.

He’d only taken his mask off around (Y/n), it felt intimate. Sweet. Something passed only between them.

“Thank you.”

She nodded before turning back and pressing outward from his research lab, “I’ll see ya tomorrow, Kiyo! You better have the sweetest dreams, ya hear me?”

“You as well.”

He returned to cleaning up his lab, occasionally stumbling over a floorboard looser than the others. How troublesome.

That’s when her voice picked up from within his brain.

“You never loved me.”

He looked around despite knowing exactly where the voice was coming from.

“You let her do this to you. You let her take you from me.”

Pushing past them, he persisted in rooting through his notes and organizing his papers.

“She hates you. She’s scared of you. She’s just trying to be nice. You scare her. You scare all of them. You rotten, rotten boy. You’ve been ruined - only I could love a face so hideous and broken. A horrible, horrible boy lucky enough to be given the love I did.”

His hands shook, fingers twitching and heart thrumming heavy, “No. (Y/n) likes me. She enjoys my company.”

“Why would she enjoy the company of someone so lonely and depressing? So gross and foul? She probably hates you for partaking in your own sister’s touch.”

“No, she- she doesn’t… she knows it’s not… it’s not my fault…”

“Are you inside her head? How do you know? How are you certain? I’m the only one who ever loved you - and you’ve abandoned me. Left me all alone.”

“No, I- I haven’t abandoned you, Sister! Please, believe me, I never abandoned you.”

“So, you know what you must do to prove yourself to me.”

“(Y/n) wouldn’t like that…”

“(Y/n) wouldn’t like you anyway.”

She’s right, right? She’s right. Someone as wonderful and beautiful as (Y/n) could never adore him the way he does her. He loves her and she must find him repulsive. Staying out of fear.

Out of pity for the boy abused by his sister. And so, who better to return to than the more predictable of the two?

(Y/n) may have felt more like coming home than Sister - but Sister was home. (Y/n) was comfort. Sister was familiarity.

He found his foot planted against the loose floorboard once again. He knew how he had to make up for his misdeeds and abandonment.

“I’m truly relieved to see that you got to your room safely,” Korekiyo murmured to (Y/n).

“Huh? Oh yeah,” she pointed over to their local gentle giant, “Gonta and I crossed paths on my way and he wanted to walk me to my room and I just couldn’t say no to him. It’s nice to have someone you trust in this ‘game’. Well, other than you,” the elevator jumbled slightly as it dove down into Monokuma’s makeshift courtroom, “I trust you, obviously.”

She shouldn’t. And he wants to tell her that.

But as Kokichi and Shuichi take glances at him from across the elevator, he knows that she’ll figure things out soon enough.

And, during the trial, when Shuichi’s convicting Korekiyo of the murder of Angie Yonaga and Tenko Chabashira - she does. And she cries and screams and throws a fit. Demanding Korekiyo to fight back harder. Demanding Shuichi to stop lying and get serious. Because Korekiyo would never kill somebody.

He was nice. He was a gentleman. He cared about people. He had stolen her heart - and a man who managed that wouldn’t kill anybody. So, of course, Shuichi was lying.

“Do I have to remind you of what’ll happen if you don’t vote?” Monokuma bit out.

(Y/n) clutched at her hair - she knew what she had to do. But every time she went to vote for Korekiyo, her body wouldn’t let her.

Reaching over, the boy himself took her hand in his, “Allow me,” as he guided her hand over her voting panel. No matter how she swatted at his hand or tried to wrench herself from Korekiyo’s grip, he pressed her vote into his name.

She was forced to watch as he was strung up and spun. Made dizzy and sickly. She was made to watch as he fell into the melting pot. Fires eating at his body until he was no more than spirit.

As Monokuma and the sister who had harmed him so horrifically worked as one to rid the world of his soul.

Eyes went to (Y/n) as the execution subsided. Her sobs and hiccups drawing everyone’s attention.

Gonta was the first to approach, a large hand settling on the girl’s back as she cried, silently taking her into a hug.

Her heart wrenched, fingers squeezing at Gonta’s suit and throat rubbing raw with her wild wails.

He could’ve gotten help. He could’ve gotten out with everyone. If she’d just stayed with him then she could’ve done something. Angie and Tenko would be here. Korekiyo would be here.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Kaito’s voice peeked through, “Don’t cry because he’s gone, (Y/n). Move forward - for both of you.”

“I…” she shook her head, choking on a sob, “I don’t think I can…”

Shuichi placed a hand on Kaito’s shoulder, “Just give her a little time.”

As the group moved out of the courtroom, Gonta stayed by (Y/n)’s side up until she clumsily made her way into her dorm room.

Immediately, she collapsed into her bed sheets. Dreading tomorrow. And the next day. And the one after that. And the one after that. And so on. And so forth. Maybe she should’ve known better than to go around falling for a guy in the killing game. Maybe she should’ve held herself up in her room all alone.

There was no escape from this feeling. No hiding. It may get better over time - but Korekiyo would always be gone.

A buzz at the door caught her attention. Her movements were sluggish, honestly just hoping that whoever was there had given up and left by the time she finally answered.

Shuichi stood there, classically uneven, anxious smile and all, “I think there’s something you might be interested in? If you’ll follow me.”

No verbal response was given, only (Y/n) stepping out of her room and shutting the door behind her to give him her confirmation.

He began towards the casino. With a sigh, (Y/n) was about to tell Shuichi off - she didn’t need to start gambling to get over Korekiyo’s death - until he stopped in front of the building.

“I mostly just wanted you to get some fresh air,” he says earnestly before digging in his pocket and pulling out a key with a heart-shaped handle, “I got this from here. You can get your own or keep this one, I think you need it more than I do,” at her confusion he continues to explain, “It can take you into this weird dream-like state where you can see what ‘ideal’ you play in our classmates’ minds… I think you know who I gave this to you for.”

“Kiyo…”

“Yeah. You can see him again, if you want.”

She wanted to be strong and push the key back into Shuichi’s hand - instead, she just looked between him and the key in her hold and nodded slowly, “Thank you, Shuichi…”

He placed a hand on her shoulder, “Sleep well, (Y/n). I know you can grow past this.”

Because he did.

“I’ll try.”

But he wasn’t her. And Kaede was gone far before Korekiyo. And their grief was not the same.

“Thanks again, Shuichi.”

“Just take your time, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Her knees felt like collapsing under the weight of her nerves, hand falling to the doorknob of the hotel room.

She pushed through her anxiety and found herself in a red-tinted room, a large heart-shaped bed in the center with a merry-go-round circling it. Then, she found Korekiyo standing to the side.

What would his ‘ideal’ version of her be? A friend? An out-of-touch acquaintance? A lover?

Her heart throbbed at the last possibility.

“Ah, my dear, back so soon?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry…”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m, uhm, not sure?”

I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.

“Then don’t,” he seemed to glide across the room, taking the girl’s cheeks in his hands, “You’ve always had a problem with that, my love.”

My love? My love.

“Ah, yeah, sorry,” she huffed at her own word selection, “Oh…”

Korekiyo chuckled quietly, pulling down his mask to kiss her forehead, “I already took my medication while you were out.”

“Your medication?”

“Yes, from the doctor. You were the one who pushed me to go, have you forgotten?”

“Right! No, no, I just blanked,” she quickly lied, giving the boy a broad grin, “I’m glad, though.”

“It’s only medication, dear.”

“Still,” (Y/n) reached up to cup Korekiyo’s cheek, “it’s good that you’re following through with your meds.”

“Your support always helps,” he pressed another kiss to the girl’s forehead, “We’ll be leaving early in the morning tomorrow, I should warn you,” at her furrowed brows he explained, “In order for us to catch the first train to Iwate prefecture. Did you forget, darling?”

“Wait, wait, let me guess…” she waited for his nod before tossing out her suggestion, “We’re traveling for field work!” she was then quick to tag on, “As a couple that’s, like, super in love?”

“You didn’t forget at all, my love,” Korekiyo pulled away slightly, and sat on the bed, removing his shoes, “You play that memory of yours down too much. You’re far more intelligent than you think.”

“You think that?”

“Of course, I do. It’s not just because I love you dearly, either. You mustn’t let the words and actions of others control your opinion on yourself - you’re better than they say.”

This is his ultimate fantasy. He’s her lover. They travel and see the beauty of humanity together, just like what he said he wanted. He loves her. He thinks she’s so great.

He’s wrong.

She should’ve stayed with him that night.

He’s wrong.

She could’ve done so much to keep him with her.

He’s dead.

Because she should’ve stayed.

“Kiyo,” her eyes burned and began to soak, “I’m sorry!” her lungs rapidly expanded and contracted with her sporadic breaths, her hands clutching at her shirt. Her knees finally buckled and she collapsed to the ground, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry for being a stupid, stupid, stupid failure! Please… forgive me…!”

Korekiyo immediately stood up and rushed to (Y/n)’s side, bringing her into a tight hug as she fell to the floor, his fingers running through her hair. He kisses at her temple and cheeks, waiting until her cries settle enough for him to be audible in the room, “It’s interesting, dear, I first realized I’d fallen in love with you in a situation similar as this. I desired to comfort and reassure you just as I do now. You’re not stupid nor a failure, and I adore you above all else.”

Shaking her head, (Y/n) only began to cry harder into Korekiyo’s chest. This could’ve been their future. This could’ve been what they had to share and hold between only each other. If she’d only stayed. If she’d been with him that night.

“Oh, my dear, I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“It wasn’t you,” she clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to keep back her cries, “I- I- it’s all my fault… it’s all my fault…”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, darling,” Korekiyo held her tighter, “I love you, my dearest (Y/n). No matter what you’ve done, I will always forgive you.”

And once again, her tears only came out harder. Her head pounding ruthlessly at the ache and consciousness fading out in her exhaustion. Korekiyo was dead. And no amount of her tears could ever bring him back.

#korekiyo shinguji x reader #korekiyo x reader #shinguji x reader #drv3 x reader #he deserved so much better :(( i wuv him #let me know if i miss anything with the warnings

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zmalkarnar1 · 4 years ago

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What About Us? Part II: Oikawa x Male Reader

Here is the second part of the Oikawa x Male reader I posted the other week. Wasn’t satisfied leaving it where it was.

Again, if you aren’t ahead in the manga there are spoilers. Enjoy.

“Iwa-chan, I have to get this done!”

“No. You need a break Y/n.” Iwaizumi said, pulling Y/n away from his computer and through his pigsty apartment.

“But Iwaizumi, just another thirty minutes...no, just another hour and I can be done with this piece,” Y/n whined, pulling back towards his pc.

“Y/n, we agreed to meet with Hanamaki and Matsukawa for lunch. We would’ve been there already, but I swear you’re as bad as Trashykawa, forgetting everything except your art.”

“Just a little bit, I just need a little more time,” Y/n pleaded, trying to pull away from Iwaizumi.

“Y/n. I will carry your ass outside and drag you by your ear.”

“But Iwa-chan…”

“Now,” he said, arms crossed, exasperated as if he was dealing with a child. He probably was. Y/n wilted under Iwaizumi’s gaze, and slowly got up, shoulders slouched. Iwaizumi hung his arm around him.

“It’ll be fine. Some time with friends will do you good.

Giving d/n a pat goodbye, Y/n let Iwaizumi lead the way to the restaurant they had promised to meet their friends. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, Y/n’s eyes gazed at the surrounding cityscape, the final vestiges of winter fading away as the new birth of spring sprouted forward. Iwaizumi was right; he needed a break. Though he’d never admit it to his friend. Even his walks with d/n have been little more than fever dreams to him, everything was focused back on his work.

“Man, it's nice out. You should have told me the weather was this great,” Y/n teased knowing full well Iwaizumi had done just that.

Iwaizumi stopped and stared deadpan at Y/n. He’d forgotten that Y/n was sometimes just as bad as Oikawa, well, not quite as bad. At least, he’s gotten worse ever since they left high school. Iwaizumi always let it slide; he figured it was how Y/n dealt with all the stress piling up on him. Y/n was always cheerful, and a bit of a tease, but Iwaizumi knew that more often than not, it was a façade, a smokescreen. He was hiding his pain, just like he did in high school. Iwaizumi wasn’t fooled however.

“You’re really tired, aren’t you?”

“Huh? No more than normal,” Y/n said, that ghost of a smile returning to his face. “Why’d you ask? Worried about me?”

“Yes, I am. Trashykawa told me how you’ve been working yourself into a mental breakdown,”

“Oikawa, that snitch!” Y/n cursed under his breath. He should have known Tooru was going to rat on him to Iwaizumi.

“Yea, he is, but you really can’t keep on like this. Ever since he went back to Argentina you’ve been even more of a recluse. You barely even check your texts!” Iwaizumi said

Y/n sighed, letting his walls lip for a moment. Iwaizumi was right. He was always consumed with work. He loved his aft, his animation. He loved that his work was enjoyed and held dear to thousands around the world. Despite the high demands of his employers, and the fact he barely survives week to week, he still loved art. But now it was something else.

Ever since he had met Tooru that winter, it's like he was woken up from a trance. After they left high school, all throughout college, everything had happened so fast. His mother sick, his father leaving; Y/n was exhausted and broken down. Before Oikawa showed up, he was barely alive, just walking through each day, one after the other, barely recognizing the world around him. He had lost so much, and, Y/n admitted, work allowed him an excuse to bury his exhaustion and pain deep inside, trapped behind a wall so thick he became numb to the emotions roiling inside of him. His pain and tears hidden away, his work was the perfect escape, despite the endless tasks his job required. It was his way to shy away from the world. Better to be busy than alone.

It wasn’t that he didn’t cry, or feel the loss of his family, he just didn’t want to confront it, not alone like he was. He didn’t want to feel so hollow, so torn, alone. So he worked, and worked, until Tooru showed up on his evening walk one winter day, and the dam that had begun to leak from overwork and exhaustion burst. His memories and old feelings he left unresolved boiling to the surface. And now he couldn’t get his mind off of Oikawa. Oikawa, who sent him a text encouraging him each day, a word of support awaiting him on his phone each morning as he woke.

And every week, Tooru found time to call him, sharing volleyball stories and giving Y/n a chance to destress from work. Each call happened during Y/n’s waking hours, which meant Oikawa must have been getting up at ungodly hours just for a chat. With Y/n’s unresolved feelings with Tooru came all his damned emotions, threatening to tear him apart, and the last thing he wanted to do was show weakness to his friends again.

So, Y/n did the only thing he knew, throwing himself into a job that was slowly killing him. He stopped responding immediately to Oikawa’s morning texts. He let the past two calls go to voicemail. Too busy with work, deadlines with animes being pushed up. He could talk next week.

Y/n vaguely remembered talking with Oikawa for a few minutes before making a weak excuse about work again. In truth, he really didn’t want to handle these emotions right now, and as stressful as work could be, his art allowed him to be numb and bury them all away. But since Tooru kept coming back, it was getting harder and harder to hold them in check.

“You know Y/n, you’re going to have to deal with your feelings and emotions eventually,” Iwaizumi said

Y/n stumbled, “What? What do you mean?”

“Even a blind man can see that you’re hiding your feelings for Oikawa behind your work. You’ve done that for years. You’re going to have to face him eventually.” Iwaizumi said, shrugging. Perhaps Y/n wasn’t as good an actor as he thought.

“This coming from you? All your emotion is wrapped up in violence,” Y/n scoffed.

“At least I’m a stable, functioning adult.”

“Hey! I’m functioning!” Y/n argued

“You’d forget to buy food if I didn’t stop around every once and a while.”

“That only happened once!”

“It’s not my fault the two of you have the emotional intelligence of a toddler.” Iwaizumi said

“Iwa-chan, so mean” Y/n whined in imitation of Oikawa

“Don’t be like him or I’ll whack you!” Iwaizumi laughed, “Anyways, you really are going to need to find some way to work through your emotions. You’ve held in everything that’s happened since high school and your mother’s death. Consider this an intervention.”

“I know,” Y/n said, aware that he was right. “Food first. Emotions can wait.” Forever, if Y/n had his choice. “How’s work with the national team going?”

“It’s busy. Honestly, I’m always a little worried that Ushijima is going to break Hinata’s face one of these days at the rare times the team is actually together.”

“Must be fun though,” Y/n hummed.

Y/n let Iwaizumi ramble on about his work, glad to be off the topic of the emotional wreck that is his life. He didn’t really listen, and he knew Iwaizumi could tell, but he couldn’t focus on the words. Oikawa was back in his head, and he kept wondering when he’d be able to move past it all.

By the time they made their way to the restaurant, Maki and Mattsun were already there. They already had drinks. Apparently they’d been waiting a while. How late was he? As he went to sit next to Iwaizumi, Makki was already teasing him.

“You know, I remember when you’d get all flustered why you were even a minute late to class,”

Y/n blushed, “Oh shut up Makki. At least I passed all my classes. What was your Algebra II grade again?”

“He’s right. Remember when Y/n panicked when he forgot about the English test?” Mattsun said,

“Oh, I won’t forget that,” Iwaizumi laughed, slapping Y/n on the back, “Was so afraid of failing he skipped class, hiding in a broom closet, and somehow managed to lock himself in.”

“Stop it!” Y/n whined, “I left my work for this!” The others just laughed. It was all in good fun, he knew.

As their food came and went, Y/n allowed himself to step away from work and enjoy an afternoon with old friends. He still kept his walls up though. He was strong enough to not fall apart in front of his friends.

“So how is Oikawa?” Mattsun asked, bringing up the topic that Y/n had been purposely avoiding for the entire lunch.

“He’s fine, I guess.” Y/n said, “Big game coming up in a week or two.”

“You guess? Aren’t you talking to him every week?” Makki asked

“Y/n here has been ghosting him because he’s afraid that he likes him again,” Iwaizumi teased

“Iwa-chan, stop it!”

“Oh, stop pretending you don’t care for him. We can all tell you’re still inexplicably obsessed with Oikawa.”

“Stop it!” Y/n begged, a slight blush forming, “Can we change the topic. Please?”

“Ok, we’ll stop teasing you. For now.” Iwaizumi said, as Y/n nodded gratefully.

Y/n left the restaurant with Iwaizumi, heading back to take d/n for his afternoon walk to the park.

“What are you going to do Y/n? You really can’t keep on like this.”

“I know. I’ll figure something out. Thanks Iwa-chan,”

“I can walk with you and d/n for a bit if you want,” Iwaizumi said, “I have nothing else planned today,”

“No thanks. I need to think this through on my own,” Y/n said, waving farewell to Iwaizumi.

And then he was alone again, walking d/n down the very path that brought him to his fateful reunion with this old boyfriend, and shattered the illusion he had been living under. If he could even call it living.

“What do I do, d/n?” Y/n whispered, scratching the dog’s ears before throwing his tennis ball again, watching d/n rush through the dog park after it.

I still like him. God I don’t want to feel like this anymore.

Y/n took a seat on the new spring growth of grass as d/n came bounding back to him. The animal, sensing Y/n’s discomfort, sat down next to him and dropped his head on Y/n’s shoulder.

Y/n chuckled, scratching his ears again, “Thanks d/n.”

Sitting together with d/n, Y/n knew what he had to do. Before he did anything else, he needed to resolve things with Oikawa, however they played out. He took out his phone and rang Iwaizumi. He was going to need a big favor.

Oikawa sat down in the locker room before the game. It was the biggest game of the year. Biggest game since the Olympics the previous summer. This game would decide if him and his team would enter into the Men's Volleyball Club World Championship Tournament. Tobio was sure to be there. Oikawa would too, in order to show his former underclassmen that he was now the superior setter.

Yet for the first time, his mind wasn’t entirely on the game. No matter how he tried to settle in and prepare as normal, his thoughts drifted back to Y/n./ Y/n had been ghosting him. Not fully, but even when they did talk, he had been distant and full of excuses in order to slip away. And then suddenly he texted saying they had something they needed to talk about.

Oikawa was worried. Has something happened? Had he pushed too hard? He wanted to give him space, but he was worried for his old friend. His love. Was Y/n okay, or was it that he just didn’t want to talk with Oikawa anymore? Was their relationship truly and fully broken? Never had Oikawa been so distracted from volleyball. He knew he dealt with the break up by throwing himself further into the game. But now that he’d had that chance meeting, he couldn’t deny it; he still loved Y/n. Because no matter what happened, he was always the one who supported his volleyball dream, and was there for every win and every loss. He left the locker room, his thoughts still lost and confused.

Y/n cheered, poster in hand, as the players emerged onto the court to warm up. He had watched the Olympic games, but this was his first time seeing a league game. It’s not like they showed Argentine Volleyball League games in Japan. When the game started, he only had eyes for Oikawa

Tooru’s game was off. Y/n could tell that something was bothering him. He could see him make mistakes, however slight, preventing his team from getting into a rhythm. A toss too high, one too close to the net. The game was still close, but Tooru’s team just couldn’t seem to take the lead. Y/n felt a little guilty. Was it him, his ghosting, his late night message, throwing his old friend off?

It can’t be. Nothing has ever broken his focus from Volleyball before…

Oikawa muttered to himself. He wasn’t playing well. By no means was it bad, but his tosses refused to leave his hands the way they should. They were always just a touch off. Too low here, too far from the net there. And then he’d scramble, overcompensating for the next one. And his team became unhinged.

Their receives became shaky, and their spikes wild as they began to rush. A setter's job was to restore balance to his team. That’s what Blanco would have done. But today, Oikawa was spinning them closer and closer to disaster. He was the farthest he’d ever been from reaching his goal. He couldn’t get Y/n off his mind. Even his serves faltered.

They went down the first set. It was okay. It was only one set. The second they brought to a deuce, but fell a few rallies later. His chances of making the Club World Championship this year slipping further and further away. And still Y/n invaded his thoughts. They’d have to be perfect the rest of the match.

But things started off the same way. Oikawa’s first serve slamming down just outside the line. 0-1. The next few rallies were short, but slowly and surely they fell behind. 7-9. Oikawa’s toss went just a breadth too high again, and the spike was dug, blasting back down on their side of the court. 7-10. The serve came at them, their libero flying it high up above the team. A good receive, if a little off center. Under it right away, Tooru set it to his middle blocker, already in the air. It was good, and the quick passed through the block, only to be dug before it could reach the floor. Back at them, barely dug, Oikawa’s team scrambled to get it over, a chance ball for their opponents. The toss flew up, the block in place and shutting down the avenues of attack. The spike came down hard anyways, blasting off the block and heading towards the stands.

Oikawa was after it a split second later, diving into the group towards the sign boards, he blasted the ball back up in the air to his team. But as he scrambled up, something in the second row caught his eyes. He usually ignored the crowds during games like these, but a poster was written in Japanese, and he couldn’t help but stop to read it, even as his team were barely treading enough water to keep their heads above the stormy surf of the match.

Go Tooru, Go. Rule the Court.

Only one person would create a banner like that for him. Still on his knees, he brought his gaze up and me e/c eyes sparkling down at him, Y/n’s smile full and invigorating, cheering his name. “Go Tooru, go!”

Oikawa froze. His mind went blank. Every time he tried to bring it back to the game, it fell apart. Only one thought remained.

Y/n is here. Cheering for me. In Argentina, in the front rows, watching and cheering for me. He came all the way across the globe to watch me play.

For the first time that he could remember, Oikawa completely forgot about volleyball as the rally ended, him still staring up at Y/n. He completely forgot about volleyball. At that moment the only thought going through his mind was that no matter what happened, him and Y/n were going to be okay. Then he heard his voice again, screaming over the crowd.

“Remember Tooru, the team strongest as a group of six is the stronger team!” Y/n called out.

All the frustration and worries wracking his mind fell away and he was back into the game. With Y/n at his back, nothing could go wrong. And he remembered Iwa-chan’s words. Stronger as a group of six. He’d been trying to force everything on his own, just like when he was a kid.

Tooru stood up, shaking his head and dusting off his jersey. Looking back up to Y/n he gave him the warmest smile he could and a simple nod. Then, he was back to the game.

“Sorry,” he said to his team as he returned to the court, “but I’m back now.”

His team only nodded, seeing something change in his eyes, and the match truly began.

Y/n looked down into Tooru’s dazzling brown eyes, eyes he always seemed to get lost in. Then he realized the rally was still going on, and Tooru was still on his yankees, staring up at him as if he were a phantom. Y/n’s heart fluttered and a tear threatened to fall from his eyes. Had Tooru really forgotten about the rally? For him? Indeed, when the ball finally slammed down a moment later, Tooru was still looking up at him. Yes, Tooru really did forget about volleyball for him. Maybe, just maybe, this could work.

Maybe he does think about me as much as I think of him.

Then he was on his feet and flashed Y/n the brightest, most genuine smile he’d even seen from Tooru, his eyes enrapturing for a moment. As Tooru nodded to him, returning to his team, Y/n knew he still liked Oikawa Tooru, and it was okay.

The rest of the game flew by and Tooru melted into the match. With Y/n’s eyes at his back, he and his team flowed into each set and roared back to life, ruling the court. And every few points, Tooru turned to lock eyes with Y/n, to ensure he was still there, that he wasn’t a dream plaguing his mind. It only helped to serve to rekindle Y/n’s feelings for the brunette. It wasn’t just about volleyball. Maybe it never was.

Oikawa’s serve slammed down for another ace, ending the fifth and final set. Y/n cheered him on as his team won entrance to the Club World Championship. After celebrating with this team, Tooru ran over towards the stands, yelling for Y/n, but it was hard to hear over the screams of the crowd. Y/n took out his phone and pointed to it, screaming “Call me later!”

Y/n knew he had to spend some time working with his team, but knew Tooru got the message as he nodded and waved before trotting off. Y/n could wait one more time. He could wait once more. When Tooru was done with his team he’d come for Y/n and then...then they’ll see. Leaving the stadium, Y/n made his way to his motel, to await Tooru’s call.

What am I doing here? Halfway across the world? To do what? Confess I still love him? Why’d I let Iwaizumi get into my head?

Y/n sat in his motel room, doubt beginning to wrack his mind. He had rejected Oikawa, ultimately, by refusing to come with him again. And now, here he was, in Argentina, unable to speak the language, with no idea what he was doing, following erupting emotions he never dealt with and can no longer control. In fact, they were driving him crazy, he needed to deal with this. All he could do was wait, and he hated it.

Oikawa joined his team in their locker room. They were already celebrating, jostling each other and him, but Oikawa had thoughts only for Y/n. Even their post game meeting was a blur to him. As it ended, Tooru immediately grabbed his phone. It was flooded with pictures from his game, including a few of him on all fours gazing in disbelief up at Y/n.

“Iwa-chan will love this one,” the message below the picture read.

No! I can’t let him send that to Iwa-chan. He’d tease me for weeks.

Tooru rushed out of the locker room, not even bothering to change, his team looking at his back knowingly. He was lucky it was a home game. Even as he rushed to his car, his phone was already dialing Y/n’s number.

“Y/n, where are you at?”

“Back at my motel,” Y/n answered

“Where? I’m coming!”

With Y/n’s motel and room number, Oikawa hit the roads of San Juan to find him.

Y/n waited. Tooru was on his way. He needed to deal with this, whatever the result. But now that he was finally shifting through his emotions, the loss of his family, the loneliness, the stress of his dream tearing him apart, he began to falter. Now that he finally recognized his feelings for Tooru, he was afraid, terrified of what was to come. It made him miss the numbness of his work.

He was scared Tooru didn’t want him like he hoped he did. He was terrified that he did, and it would fall apart. He was afraid of being weak in front of Tooru again. And with those thoughts rushing through his mind, his neurons firing doubt through his brain, Tooru arrived.

“Y/n, I’m here, open up!”

The door opened with a slow whisper, but Tooru burst in, slamming the door open past Y/n, engulfing his (shorter/taller) friend into a crushing bearhug.

“Y/n, I can’t believe you came! What are you doing here? I thought you had work!?”

“Can’t breathe. Tooru, let go.”

“Sorry. But why are you here?”

“You’re all sweaty too! Couldn’t you have at least changed out of your uniform,” Y/n whined as Tooru finally let him down.

“I just had to rush over. I didn’t want you waiting for a second longer. So? I thought you didn’t want to leave Japan? Did you enjoy the game? Thanks for coming!”

“One question at a time Tooru,” Y/n laughed, “like I texted, there’s something we need to talk about. And I wanted to do it in person.”

“So, what is so important you had to fly across the globe for me?” Tooru teased

Here Y/n began to stutter, and then stop. He couldn’t do this.

“You aren’t ready yet, are you?”

Y/n shook his head.

“That’s okay. I can wait,” Tooru said, his voice quiet and gentle, stepping back to give Y/n a little space. “How about we go grab some food and head to my place. I have a spare bedroom. Might be more comfortable than this dirty motel,”

“Y/n only nodded, grabbing his stuff.”

“Hungry?”

“Starving. I used just about all of my spending money on the plane and game ticket. I haven’t had much for food.” Y/n admitted.

“That’s some planning,” Tooru laughed, “You used to try to have every detail planned out.

“Oh, shut up and drive.”

The two made their way to Oikawa’s place, eating the takeout Tooru had ordered and picked up on the way.

“How’d you get off work?”

“I, uh...spent an all nighter, or two in order to catch up. Maybe three? I don’t really remember much of it. Iwa-chan was less than pleased.” Y/n admitted, scowling when he remembered the scolding Iwaizumi had given him.

“I bet he wasn’t. What did he do?”

“Nothing fun. Speaking of Iwaizumi though, you’re a snitch. You told him,” Y/n accused.

“What? Me? I never!” Oikawa argued, dramatically trying to protest his innocence, his arms flailing around wildly.

“Hands on the wheel! I know you told him!”

“Fine, I did.” Tooru sighed, his tone getting serious, “I was worried.”

“It’s okay. I got payback.”

“What?”

“Iwaizumi and crew are going to love some of those photos,” Y/n said, smiling

“You didn’t! Please tell me you didn’t Y/n!”

“Oh, I did. Expect some hard core teasing,” Y/n laughed as Oikawa groaned.

“Come on, we’re just about there.”

To Y/n’s surprise, Oikawa’s apartment was very nice, and immaculate. Y/n imagined it would be a disaster area, much like it was when they were kids. Maybe Oikawa had grown up a bit. More than Y/n had apparently.

Tooru jumped into the shower to clean up as Y/n settled into the spare bedroom, that night they watched a movie in relative silence and turned in. Taking out his phone, Y/n began texting Iwaizumi.

Y/n: I can’t do this Iwa-chan.

Iwaizumi: Y/n, you have to deal with this, and everything else. You can’t keep bottling it up.

Y/n: Iwa-chan, I’m scared

Iwaizumi: Do you still love him?

Y/n: I think so.

Iwaizumi: Then talk to him!

Y/n: But I don’t know. Does he still love me?

Iwaizumi: No buts! I saw that photo. He is, and always has been, completely in love with you.

Y/n: Ok, ok, I’ll tell him.

Iwaizumi: Good. If not I will fly over and beat both of you till you figure this out.

Y/n slept alone in Oikawa’s spare room. He had it in case family visited, which they did from time to time.

The following day, Oikawa took Y/n sight seeing through the city of San Juan. Y/n enjoyed the sights and spending time with Tooru. However, with each passing moment his stress and fear continued to build. His gaze shifted away and each time Oikawa could see it, breaking him, what Tooru knew he should have been able to see years ago. When the day came to a close, they found themselves back in Tooru’s apartment, sitting quietly on his couch. Tooru was going to give y/n as much time as he needed.

“Tooru, I…” Y/n stopped and sat back, an exhausted sigh breaking free. Tooru could tell he was holding back tears.

“If you’re not ready yet…”

“No.” Y/n interrupted, “It’s just...I never…” Y/n sniffled, choking back his tears. Tooru’s heart began to throb in pain. He wanted nothing more than to hold Y/n in his arms, to caress him, and make his pain and fears vanish into the night. But he didn’t want to push Y/n if he wasn’t ready.

“Sorry. I promised myself i wouldn't cry,”

“You’re hurting still, aren’t you. It’s okay,” Tooru said, reaching his hand out to Y/n’s and squeezing it, hoping to reassure him.

“I just didn’t want to be weak in front of you again. It’s always like this. I hate being so weak,”

“Weak? Y/n, you aren’t weak!” Tooru argued

“Yes, yes I am. All I do is hide from everything,”

“You’re the last person I’d call weak,” Tooru said, turning his h/c friend so he can look into his pained, but pretty e/c eyes. “Y/n, I’ve seen you push through school, with top marks, virtually alone. As your dad practically abandoned you, it was you who helped your mother, even as she was sick. You who, despite everything, came to school with a smile, never late, never missing an assignment, a club meeting or practice of yours, or a single one of my games. You bore everything on your shoulders alone, often to the detriment of your health. And never once did you complain or let it break you, never once did you allow yourself to show your pain to anyone. I know now, deep down, how much pain you were really in, and you hid it so well. I was completely oblivious to it, selfishly obsessed with my own doubts. Y/n, you are my definition of strength.

“Tooru,” Y/n whispered, no longer able to hold back his tears.

“And you know what. It’s okay to be vulnerable sometimes. It’s okay to let it out. That doesn’t make you weak. You’ve been my pillar so often, will you finally let your walls down with me?”

Y/n couldn’t hold it in anymore. He fell into Tooru’s chest sobbing. His unresolved emotions from his mother’s death, the stress from his deteriorating finances, even the anger he never really dealt with resolving Tooru, all of them came flooding to the surface. And, of course, the love he still felt and buried deep beneath his skin. He allowed it all to overwhelm him finally. He could deal with it as long as Tooru was there.

Tooru held him, so gently, understanding that, despite how strong his love was, he was brittle and wounded, and whatever he needed, Tooru would provide. So he held him close and gentle as a babe and let Y/n cry it out. He rubbed his back when Y/n muttered, “I needed you, and you were never there.” Tooru understood. Part of this was because of him, because he failed to see how much pain Y/n was in during their third year.

“It’s okay, you can be vulnerable with me. I’ll never see you as any less.” Tooru whispered. “You can be as strong as you want, or as weak as you need to be Y/n, I’ll always be here. Just please, stop numbing yourself.”

They laid together until Y/n stopped crying. And then, as Y/n didn’t pull away, or talk, only snuggled closer to Tooru, he held him tighter. Together they remained in each other's arms until the early morning hours.

Tooru smiled, looking down at Y/n who had fallen asleep in his arms. He was tired. Mentally drained. Tooru would be whatever Y/n needed to be. And he’d wait, however long it took, for Y/n to forgive him and return to this permanently. He stayed awake the entire time, running his hand slowly through Y/’s blonde locks. He continued to caress him until Y/n shook awake. It was nearly two a.m.

“Tooru…” Y/n yawned, bringing his hands up to rub his eyes, “what time is it?” “Two a.m.”

“What!?” Y/n pulled away from him and Tooru freely let him pull away, already missing his warmth. “I thought I was just dozing off for a few minutes.”

“Oh, you dozed straight to sleep.” Tooru laughed

“Sorry,” Y/n said, turning away, “About this...I,”

Tooru interrupted him before he could go any further, “Again, it’s okay. I’ll be what you need me to be, and nothing more until you’re ready.”

Y/n nodded, sitting up straight, “We need to talk,”

“You ready?”

“Yea. About us.”

Tooru waited for Y/n to continue, but he went quiet. “What about us?”

“I don’t want to wait. For you. For you to finish with volleyball. To have room in your heart.”

“Y/n,” Tooru sighed, fear rising in his chest, afraid that Y/n was going to ask him to give up volleyball, to give him the ultimatum he always feared. He couldn’t choose between them, “I’m not going to stop my career,”

“I know. I don’t want you to. But I can’t wait either. I want more.”

“More?”

“I want to try again. With you. Us. I don’t want to wait. I can’t,” Y/n said, “So, is your offer still on the table?” “...you’re sure?” Tooru whispered, hoping that he wasn’t asleep on his couch, that this wasn’t just another nightmare meant to torture him.

“I am. I need to know. Ever since we met at New Years, everything came to a head. Realize I was drowning myself in my work, using it as an excuse to ignore everything else. I did that in college too. I’ve ignored the feelings of my mothers death, my dream, and you. But when you showed up…I can’t do it anymore. But I need to know. I want more. Is there any way we can work? Yes or no, I need to know before I move on. That’s why I’m here.

“You aren’t kidding right?”

“No. So, is your offer still open?”

“Yes!” Tooru yelled, pulling Y/n into another crushing bear hug and pulling Y/n down onto the couch on top of him. “Of course my offer is open. And I want nothing more than for us to work. But I can’t be here all the time either,”

Y/n looked away, fearful for just a moment,

“But, that said, if you give me the chance, I will do everything I can to make you feel loved, to be your pillar, to hold you when you need to be vulnerable. I won’t abandon you like before. I’m stronger now. I’ve learned to balance volleyball and the rest of my life. I can make this work. I promise.”

Y/n smiled. “Then maybe, maybe I’ll be alright,”

“Can I kiss you?” Tooru asked.

“Yes.”

Tooru flipped Y/n over so his back was on the couch, Tooru looming over him. He cupped Y/n’s cheeks, pulling them in together, locking their lips. And Y/n’s fears, his pain, they weren’t gone, it didn’t vanish in a puff of smoke like a fairy tale, but with Tooru he knew he could be weak. He could allow himself to feel again. With Tooru, he knew he just might be okay.

As their lips parted, Y/n felt Tooru pick him up and carry them to his bedroom.

“You’re tired,” he said, gently placing Y/n on the bed and pulling the covers over them. “Rest now. We’ll get the details tomorrow. Sleep my darling, sleep.” Tooru pulled Y/n in close, head to his chest, and together they fell asleep in each other's arms.

“Y/n, don’t go! Not now! Please,” Tooru whined as Y/n tried to make his way to the airport security.

“Tooru, I left d/n with Iwaizumi. I imagine he’s sick of the animal. Plus, I still have to wrap up a bunch of things before I can move.”

“But we just got together n/n,” Tooru whined, pulling Y/n in for a kiss, asking for entrance with his tongue, which Y/n denied.

“Not here. At home. When I return. Then you can have all you want,” Y/n teased

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“But what if I don’t want to wait?”

“It’ll be a few weeks still. I’ll come back and then we can have some fun,” Y/n said, teasing, moving to whisper in Tooru’s ear, “Then we can figure out whatever citizenship work we need to do if we decide this works.”

“Fine, fine. Just a couple of weeks. And call me every day!” Tooru whined, reluctantly letting go of Y/n.

“I love you Tooru,” Y/n said, as he moved away to get through security.

“I love you too Y/n.”

One year later:

Oikawa’s serve blasted into the back corner of the opponent’s court. The libero dove for it, making contact, but the ball went spinning out of control, well out of reach of any of the opposing team members. The set came to an end, 25-19. There was only one set left.

Y/n cheered for his boyfriend before looking back down at his notebook. He had promised not to work today, but he snuck in some of his art without Tooru noticing. He was working on his own manga. He had yet to get anything officially off the ground. Most of his work had been denied, but he knew that in the writing business, that is the norm more often than not. It was okay. He would continue to work until he made that dream a reality. As for his animation, he still worked from home in their shared apartment, but had lightened his workload. And in a lucky break, one of his supervisors left and recommended him as her replacement. He now almost made something resembling a liveable wage.

He was lost in his art. He knew that Tooru would be meeting with his team between the sets and could sneak in a bit of editing and drawing. Despite being in the front, right behind the bench, he was sure he’d be safe from Tooru’s eyes. But he was so absorbed in his art, he didn’t notice when Tooru came striding up to him, hands on his hips glaring at the artwork.

“You were supposed to be taking a day off, Y/n,”

Y/n jumped, and slowly closed his sketchbook, trying to hide it beneath the chair, “What do you mean Tooru, I am” he smiled, pretending to be innocent.

Tooru sighed, “You’re as hopeless as I am. Come on,” he said, grabbing Y/n’s arm and pulling him onto the court behind the bench.

“Tooru, what are you doing, the fifth set is about to start!”

“Don’t worry, both teams agreed to a short disruption, come on,” Tooru said, pulling him onto the court.

“Tooru, why are we on the court?” Y/n asked, blushing, unused to being in the spotlight with crowds staring down at them, many as confused as him.

“Look up.”

Y/n followed Tooru’s finger up to the screens above the court. Usually showing the game on the court, or replays, the screens now read the words, “Will you marry me, Y/n?”

Y/n turned to glare at Tooru, “Really. You are proposing to me during the middle of a volleyball game.” “Yes. I wanted to show you that I love you just as much as I love volleyball,” Tooru said, “Maybe a little bit more even,” Y/n sighed, “You know, this is a low move. I almost have to say yes, with everyone watching.”

“I’m sorry,” Tooru whispered, “Are you really that uncomfortable?”

“You’re lucky you already knew I was going to say yes,” Y/n muttered, knowing they had discussed the possibility in detail over the past month or so. Y/n shook his head and pulled Tooru in a kiss on the middle of the volleyball court. “Does that answer your question?”

Tooru pulled Y/n into another hug, leading him back to the bench as the crowds cheered. Y/n watched from the bench as the fifth set continued forward. He still wasn’t where he wanted to be yet, but Y/n knew that he and Tooru were going to be alright. He would let Tooru help rebuild him. He could make it through anything as long as he had his husband by his side.

Here’s the ending. Not sure I like it, but it’s what came out. Again, sorry it’s so long. Too all those who distract themselves through work. Hope you enjoyed.

#oikawa x male reader #tooru x male reader #haikyuu x male reader #oikawa tooru

128 notes · View notes

fanficsrusz · 4 years ago

Text

I WANT TO KI__ YOU - FINAL CHAPTER

Warnings: Kidnapping, Dub-Con, Non-con, Stockholm Syndrome, Being Restrained, Breeding, murder, everything bad.

PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. IF YOU FIND ANY OF THESE WARNINGS TRIGGERING, THEN DO NOT READ. BY CONTINUING TO READ FROM THIS POINT ON, YOU ARE AGREEING THAT YOU ARE COMFORTABLE WITH ALL OF THE ABOVE WARNINGS. I DO NOT ACCEPT ANY RESPONSIBILITY IF YOU FEEL TRIGGERED BY THE FOLLOWING CONTENT SINCE THERE HAS BEEN PLENTY OF WARNINGS. IF YOU FEEL LIKE ANY OTHER WARNINGS SHOULD BE ADDED THEN PLEASE POLITELY DM ME AND I WILL ADD THEM.

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Summery: After failing to fulfill his contract, John takes a liking to y/n and his liking soon turns into a dark obsession

Aesthetic Playlist

A/n: After a billion years, a billion mental breakdowns and just about everything else, I have finally mustered up the courage to finish this series. I don't know how to feel.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I look forward to reading all your comments and feedback. If you liked this chapter then please reblog it. That is how writers like myself are able to spread out work to other people, especially because there have been a lot of issues with tags lately. Thank you ❤️

<< Previous Chapter

The taste of his lips was something that she should hate. It's something that she should crave to loaf. But even after everything he put her through, he was the sweetest poison.

John was like an elegantly bound book but in a language she couldn't read. Y/n never thought she would love all the bad things about someone but there she stood, staring out into the openness of the forest through the front door.

The door was there as if her dream had become solid, as if it had grown upon the hinges and blossomed into a comforting hue. An exit. A way out of the nightmare she found herself in. In all the time she had been trapped in the house, the door had remained a mystery to her. Not that she didn't know what laid beyond it, but the idea of what she would do when she saw the day it was held open for that long.

She realised in the air that had been so still on the previous days had suddenly gained a slight movement, as if it had discovered its direction yet was content to meander at its own pace. The autumn breeze that carried fine drops, each one a promise of the rain to come. Newly chilled air that moved the clouds, streaks of brilliance breaking through from a patient sun.

Y/n let her eyes rest for a moment, feeling the ambiance of nothing, hearing the sounds, taking in the aroma, letting her brain process what laid ahead.

John came behind, his lips grazing her hair as he pressed a chaste kiss upon her head.

"I need an answer."

His voice came as a whisper but had a firmness to it as he waited for their fate to be sealed.

Choices were rarely a fork of two pathways, yet with eyes a little wider open, many pathways appeared before her. The right path for one person can be different from another and only the inner compass of love and passion could illuminate it for that soul to walk upon.

"I-" her lips parted, the single syllable falling from her mouth before she stopped. Her eyes clenched shut, images of her past life flashing through her mind, her heart thumping as the emotions of what she had lost pumped through her.

Before she could even register her own existence in her new life, her feet had pulled her from John's hold.

She could feel her heartbeat… every single pound in her chest. This great pounding, this great pressure; every beat. She could hear it, she could feel it. It remained steady with every step she took closer to the door, it remained through what little breaths she could shove down her throat. It remained when she stood and swayed at the threshold. That dark beating remained, as she waited for her own choice to take hold of her body.

With a shaky hand she took hold of the new wooden door, a sigh leaving her as she pushed the door shut, sealing her inside the house and sealing her fate with no other exit. Just like that any glimmer of escape faded away coldly into infinite darkness. Y/n's skin shuddered and she could feel her brain starting to defocus, searching for new hope. She should have gone … out there, to the forest where the paths ran in every direction and she could be free. But one thing and one thing alone stopped her.

Aurora.

John's hand creeped up her arm, offering her a caring touch.

"Thank you" he whispered, breath hot on the back of her neck.

"For what?" her voice came out hostile, sadness prominent in her tone.

"You chose me -" he smiled, "you chose us. You chose Aurora. You chose love." his arms circled her waist, pulling her closer to his icy warmth. "I can't believe you finally recognised the importance of what we have. You've finally learnt to appreciate it all and that's all I ever wanted from you".

Sadness sat an inch below Y/n's face, eyes remaining dry, expression impassive. She knew that if she even let a fraction out that the rest would follow, a never ending torrent of grief. She moved nothing but her eyes, her mind racing while every muscle stayed rock still against John's hold.

"I just needed you to see it with your own eyes, to have you understand that this could be a wonderful life, that we can build a perfect, loving, family" John let his mind wander within the walls of his own fantasy.

"Just think about it. Think about all the good things we can do together here. We can be happy, we can enjoy each other as much as we want without having to worry about the world out there and all the bad things it brings -" he placed a heated kiss onto her skin, his teeth nipping lightly.

That warm, raspy voice that possessed his cords, sent nerves dancing up her spine. Normally his smile sent her mind into an uncontrolled, captivated spiral and his light touch lingered, it branded her soul with a simple mark: infatuation. To call it love would be a mockery of her heart, a symbol of her dying innocence. But every tempered word he spoke invaded her mind, like ivy tendrils seeking any point of weakness to enter; they wrapped her body in a blanket of comfort and consumed her soul in the heat of lust.

Y/n remembered that night John took her in a soft, painful haze. It was the night that taught her the difference between love and infatuation. Love is unconditional, eternal... Infatuation? It dies.

Y/n had become infatuated with John to some degree. The sense of protection that he provided was something that she had never known. What else did she have other than John? But Aurora? She deserved better. Y/n loved her more than anything and she wasn't about to let her daughter live in four walls. Captive. Her beauty hidden away from the world.

That wasn't a life she wanted for her.

"-I only needed to know that you were convinced, that you had it in your heart" John continued, his lips peppering her skin with soft kisses.

"well now you know" y/n whispered, eyes still glued to the closed door.

"You know-" John gently turned her body, forcing her to look at him as his soft brown eyes studied her features for a moment, "-keeping you chained in that basement for the rest of your life was a possibility but that wasn't enough for me"

Y/n felt the pad of his thumb rub against the wet skin of her cheek, rubbing away a few tears that had managed to quietly escape their fortress.

"I wanted you to be here with me, so you could enjoy this life of ours without being kept like an animal." his eyes softened, eyebrows dipping kindly. "It was all necessary at first. Just a training process and I only kept you like that because you needed it"

Y/n knew it was wrong what he did. But why did it hurt to know what she would do?

"I understand" she whispered, her own hands wrapping around his waist as she buried her face in his chest. With a deep breath she took note of all the musky sweet notes of his scents. John rested his head on top of hers, his smile uncontrollable.

"it was like the medicine you needed to take" John let out a small laugh as he thought back. "you were this small little disobedient puppy. It was cute honestly but it was just something you needed to go through to get stronger. And now look at you!" he pulled back, holding her at arms length so be count admire her perfect face. "you're so beautiful and So loyal"

John kissed the droplets of tears from her lips, and she felt his lips smile against hers. He swept her hair aside and kissed her just over the collarbone. He nibbled at her ear, and then sank himself into her arms. She hung her fingers on his waistband, dragging him closer and he buried his face in her shoulder curve, his hands flexing around her back. John gave a reduced groan before whispering “I love you,” into her hair.

"So do I" she mustered back.

"I can't believe you finally see me for what I really am. Your family. Your soulmate. Your world. Of course that world includes Aurora. Her future brothers and sisters. We will have all we need right here" he placed another kiss onto her forehead. "we can build something new, something perfect and you are the one who made it all possible. You - you have no idea how special you are to me my love."

John stepped back, extending his hand for her to take and Y/n slowly took it into hers.

"I will never let you go. No matter what happens, I will always find you."

Three days later

The perfect life for the perfect wife. That's what Y/n told herself daily, over and over.

Y/n had been baking for a few hours and as the moments passed, tune by tune as the radio sang along, the piles of cookies, buns and breads grew. It was the same as mess, only the good sort she supposed, the edible sort that made people happy. That would make her happy.

Aurora sat in her highchair, cooing softly as Y/n plated a few cookies and turned slowly, smiling as she watched her daughter stare up at her.

She placed the plate on that table and kissed Aurora on the forehead.

"No matter what happens. I love you" she breathed heavily and pulled back when she heard John step into the kitchen.

"Good morning" Y/n smiled, wiping some of the drool from Aurora's face.

John rounded the table and kissed y/n on the cheek before kissing Aurora's head.

"Good morning my loves".

For a moment there was silence in the large room and y/n shifted on her feet.

"What are you going to do today?" John finally asked, pulling a glass from the cupboard and filling it with some water.

Y/n shook her head slowly.

"I don't know. Maybe clean. Play with Aurora. I baked some cookies already" John's eyes lit up as he walked over to the table, smiling as he picked up a warm cookie.

"You made these?" he asked and y/n only hummed.

"Mhmm"

John kissed her cheek and Y/n savoured the feeling of his lingering touch before she turned around to face him.

"Try it. Tell me how it is".

John smirked before lifting the cookie to her mouth.

"oh no. I've already eaten so many of them. I made them specially for you"

"Such a good wife" John smiled. The cookie skimmed his lips before he shoved it into his mouth, letting the buttery goodness explode against his tongue.

"Wow" he exclaimed, "This is really good". Y/n’s eyes lit up with excitement as she watched him eat a second cookie without hesitation.

"Good. I'm glad you like them".

John lifted his glass of water to his lips before he felt something wash over him. Something he hadn't felt… Ever.

His hand extended towards Y/n as he tried to grab her, reaching out for support but she only pulled away, the smile she wore still on her face as she watched him intently.

John breathed heavily but the air just wouldn't go in, like his lungs were surrounded by metal bands. Next came the rising panic, the dizzy feeling and the need to get low to the ground. The exertion brought on more breathlessness, like the air around him was devoid of oxygen. His ribs heaved up and down but no benefit came.

"Y.. Y/n…" his wheezing voice called out to her but she only stepped back.

The poison was made to mimic an efficient virus, to kill the host fast. A few drops here and there and the decay set in, a sort of race to the bottom. The best part? She didn't even know what it was. She just read the bottle that John had stashed away and shoved it into the batter. If there was one thing she learnt from her mother was that love was the best blindfold for any plan.

Y/n picked up Aurora, cradling her in her arms as she watched John gasp for breath. In his glassy eyes that stared up at her, she saw her reflection and she saw that what she was doing was the right thing.

"You were and always have been a - monster" the words seemed to burn her tongue but she ignored the pain it caused. "You will never be able to find me or her again. Goodbye John"

As the blackness finally began to consume him once and for all, he watched as his love pulled open the front door, her shadowy figure slowly fading into the darkness as he also did.

3 months later.

"Thank you, detective" y/n pushed the papers into her handbag before placing the bag back onto that handle of the pram. Aurora laid asleep in her arms and y/n slowly stood up.

"No worries" the detective smiled kindly before reaching out over the table, stopping y/n from moving any more. "-and just so you know, I'm sorry. I know there isn't anything I can say that can fix everything that happened to you but You're safe now. We won't let anything else happen." y/n smiled softly and placed her hand on top of his reassuringly.

"It's okay. You searched and you couldn't find me. There isn't anything anyone could have done. He… Was different. He was smart".

The detective shook his head and pulled his hand away, burying them in piles of paper.

"he was a monster for what he did".

Y/n felt the tears well in the back of her eyes as she felt her throat turn dry.

"I-" before she could even think of anything to say, Aurora began to cry and y/n laughed, shaking the pain of her aching heart away. "-I should really get her home".

"Of course". He led y/n to the door, holding it open for her as they began to proceed down the corridor.

"There's still quite a few reporters out there so it's best you take the back exit. Officer Hughes will swing by your place later on to check in"

"Oh. Terry? He doesn't have to. He's been doing that everyday for the past three months -"

"Nonsense. It's the least we could do".

Y/n smiled and looked down at her watch.

"Thank you so much detective. I'll see you later"

"see ya".

Y/n left the building and sighed as she heard the loud noise of the city and wind around her, the warm sun warming her body just as the first few drops of rain fell from the sky.

"Let's get you home" she whispered to her daughter, pushing the pram towards home.

The cafe that y/n lived above laid ahead, just around the corner and y/n couldn't wait to get her feet up. It's royal blue paint glistening under the closed sky was definitely a sight for sore eyes. She could just about see the large sign, decorated with droplets of water that hung on like glistening jewels. "Gloria's."

Outside the sidewalk that would bustle in a few short hours was quiet, the concrete oblivious to whether it was midday or midnight. Y/n’s face smirked upward at the sight of the flower planter to the right, the city has put in new blooms that will give flashes of sunny yellows and hot pinks through the springtime. If she stopped walking right now she could almost hear the heartbeat of the city, quiet, like the ticking of an old Grandfather clock.

Her mind was too preoccupied with the world around her and y/n didn't notice the figure that hid under the umbrella that she nearly ran over.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" y/n exclaimed, extending her hand to steady the person. Y/n waited patiently for the person's response, waiting to make sure she didn't hurt them.

Then she heard it, the dark, low chuckle that made her spine tingle.

"You're just as polite as the first time, Princess"

The end.