#i kinda can't forgive myself for staying that long | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

petew21-blog · 3 months ago

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Revenge possession, part 2

"So what is this game called again?" I asked out loud with Devon's voice.

Devon in the back of our mind:"Dead by daylight. You play either as a survivor or the killer. Depending on the role you have to escape or kill all the survivors."

I chuckled a bit:"You don't see how that's ironic?"

Devon was silent. "I'm so sorry, man. Jesus, I didn't think this through. Haha. Well... you should be good in this game right?"

Me:"Not really. I kinda didn't even know I was being hunted. Your parents just picked me up and then tortured me in the woods. I didn't have much of a chance to even run."

Devon:"Oh... I'm so sorry for that, man. My parents are horrible people."

Me:"Yeah. And I know they killed much more people than just me. That's why it needs to stop"

Devon:"So are you sure that killing them would be the best revenge for all these years of their murder spree?"

Me:"What else can I do? It's not like I had much of a choice. Few days ago I didn't even have a body. Now I co-share yours. Yeah, stealing their sons body is good revenge too, but you're a good person. And I don't want to take over your life."

Devon:"Not what I was aiming for. I honestly love having you here with me. You're like a second voice/brother/best friend inside of me. Oh shit. I just figured. I keep calling you bro. What's your real name?"

Me:"Paul. Took you long to ask, man. Not cool"

Devon:"Sorry, haha. So... Paul. You're like 40 now, right?"

Me:"I would be if your parents didn't kill me. But I died when I was 21 like you are now. So my mind basically stayed 21 I suppose. Except for roaming the country I didn't have much fun through all these years. These past few days as you, just chilling here, playing video games, jerking off and talking to you is the most fun I had over these 20 years."

Devon took control over his body to let go of the controler and to flex his biceps. The sweat hitting his nose.

Me:"What are you doing? I thought we were gonna play?"

Devon:"Nah, just reminding you what body you're in"

Devon:"Look at me man. I have beautiful abs, massive arms. These thighs could crush a melon between them. I appreciate that you picked me and that you like my body, but you gotta do something about this. We gotta go have fun. With another living being."

Me:"Devon... I really am happy how you treat me in your body, but... I don't think we have the same type of dating pool"

Devon:"I don't care whoever you fuck. I'm straight, or atleast I think I am, but very accepting. And if my man inside of me wants to fuck some handsome man, I will be more than happy to help you out. Bros gotta help each other"

Me:"But it's gonna be your body, man."

Devon:"So? You could do much worse with my body and you didn't. Getting fucked or fucking someone in the ass is not so bad."

Me:"Ok? So what place do you suggest?"

Devon:"Gym. We can show everyone what this body can do. Lot of people observe me there, so you can pick whoever you desire"

We arrived to the gym. So many hot and sexy people in sight. Devon took control to do his normal routine. It sucks that I could also have a body like this, but back in the day I wanted to see the world. I wanted to be myself in a world that hates my kind. Twenty years later, the world is so much more accepting. It's not ideal, but wow. How things gave changed

I still can't believe that Devon let's me stay in his body. I mean, look at him. He could be anything, have anyone. And yet this hot piece of meat is depressed with his easy life, being alone most of the time. I guess that's what happens when your serial killer parents move your family every now and then. You don't have any friends and those that you did might already be dead by their hand. How horrible... I honestly can't wait to see them. To look them in their face. With their son's face and to kill them. I hope Devon will forgive me. I know he says he wants to stop them, but it's his parents. I just have to make sure that he will not stop me when the time comes

Devon was just finishing up, when a cute twink approached us.

The guy:"Hey, I hope you don't mind that I was watching you"

Devon:"Nah, it's ok man. You need a hand with lifting?"

The guy smiled. "Oh I do need a hand, I just don't know If I asked the right person"

Devon sat down, looking all confused:"That depends if..."

I stopped Devon mid sentence. "I think that's a cue for me to take over, ok?"

Devon now in the back of my mind:"Sorry man, I usually don't respond to guys hitting on me. Go on. Have fun"

I smiled at the guy and casually finished the sentence

We headed to the showers. The owners must be probably sick with all these guys hooking up here. But we didn't care. We made out passionately. The twins was all over my muscles, as I would be in his place too. He was a bit smaller. That gave me a sense of dominating him.

I stopped and smiled at the guy. "I... just gotta let you know that I am a virgin"

Devon:"What!!! Dude, you never had sex with anyone?"

The guy looked at me from top to bottom. "You? If good looking people like you are virgins, then I have no idea how world works."

I chuckled nervously. It was true. I was 21 when I died, but back then it was much harder to date a find gay guy. Now you can just download Grindr and in a few minutes you got yourself a guy in your bedroom

Twink:"Well in that case we can go to your place and have some fun there. This isn't a very nice place to have your first time, don't you think"

I just smiled and nodded in approval

We were now in Devon's messy room. The guy was really shocked to see such a straight man cave, but didn't say a word. We made out. He took off my shirt soaked in sweat from gym. His lips now kissed my neck and went to over my pecs, down the middle to my waist band. He took my hard dick into his hand, squeezed hard and looked me deep into my eyes. His look was so full of lust, yet I could tell it was superficial. This guy isn't looking for romance. He just wants to be fucked hard. So let's give it to him

I took a bit of control of the moment. I grabbed him by the neck. Turned him around and pressed him against the wall. He was now moaning in pleasure as I was rubbing my hard dick hidden beneath the layers of my clothes against his ass. I was still holding him, choking him.

I pulled of my shorts and his just low enough to get my dick in there. I wanted to push it right in there. As hard as I could

Devon suddenly screamed out from the back of his mind:"Condom dude!!!"

I left the guy, moanjng against the wall, reaching out to the condom on the shelf. I was struggling to find which side to pick to put it on my dick

Twink:"Wait. Let me" it was obvious he jas done it a few times. The condor was on in a matters of seconds. "Do you have any lube?"

Devon intervened again:"Top drawer. Give him more attention, man. You're making it all about yourself"

"Shut up" I said out loud as a response to Devon, but the guy looked confused. "Oh sorry, not you. I'm just nervous. I have lube right here."

The guy went on Devon's bed on his back. His clothes were now gone and his ass was welcoming my dick. His legs wide open.

I pressed lightly my dick with a ridiculous ammount of lube on top.

It went smoothly so I tried to went all the way. This seemed to hurt the twins. "Hold your horses. I'm good, but not that good. A bit slower, cowboy."

I went in slowly. The pleasure got to Devon too. The way this guys ass was tight around the head of our dick was sending our minds to heaven.

I picked up the pace. The twink was moaning in pleasure and in pain at the same time. I grabbed him by the next to choke him. My other arm pressing his thigh.

Twink:"Harder!" I thought I was going as hard as possible, but I didn't think he could take it much more

Twink:"Harder!!!"

Devon:"Oh, jesus. Let me do it" Devon took over. I was in the back of our mind again. Still feeling everything.

Devon was like a beast, but the twink was really enjoying it.

I could feel all the cum building up. Ooh there's gonna be tons of cum.

Devon was biting his lower líp and furiously pounding this guy's ass. Sure, "Straight" my ass.

Devon:"I'm cumming!!!"

Twink:"Fill me! I want it all"

Devon shot out the stream of cum into the condom. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming. So much, that I lost control for a moment. I didn't know what was happening.

I opened my eyes. Still as Devon. Good. But I was back in control. But I was alone here. I couldn't feel Devon

"DEVON?!?"

Twink:"Right here. You pushed my soul out of my body, dude. If the guy here wasn't as welcoming you would have me erased or something"

Me:"I'm so sorry. I didn't think that would happen."

Devon:"It's fine. This guy's soul is asleep or maybe gone? I don't know. But I can't hear him now. Dude! I could feel my body's orgasm and his orgasm at the same time. I can assure you, that this is definitely the best I'll ever feel. So overwhelming."

Me:"Shit, dude. We gotta figure out how to get you put of there. Or you might be stuck"

Devon:"What if we wait for a bit? I kinda wanna try having sex with my body."

Me:"Kinky. You wanna get pounded too?"

Devon:"Guess I'm not so straight anymore, right?"

After our first fucking session, Devon passed out from all the sex. We still didn't know where this guy's soul was, but we would figure that out soon. I was just happy that I was finally alive. And I even have a boyfriend now? If that's what I can call Devon. Not to put labels on our relationship or anything

I grabbed the first pair of shorts from the floor I could find. Still sweaty from the sex, I headed to the kitchen to get myself a drink of water.

I was interrupted by a dark figure in the corner of the room

"Hello, son"

I was full of rage. But I can't fuck it up now. If I kill him, I won't know where his mom is and that would take me another decade to find her.

"Hey, dad. How was your holiday"

"Oh wonderful. Rome is your mother's favourite place to visit"

I tried to act as much as possible. Devon was in his room in a wrong body, so that wouldn't help me.

"Did you go to Colosseum this time?"

"Oh, we sure did." The father responded. But in the matter of seconds his expression changed. He was now holding a gun pointed at me

"What are you doing, dad?!"

"Devon knows we went to Bahamas"

Fuck. So he knew all along that I'm not Devon. But how?

"Me and my wife found out that the folk like you, who want to have your revenge for what we did, come back as ghosts to make our lives a living hell."

"So I'm not the first one?"

"Hahaha. Of course you're not. The first one came when Devon was 2 years old. Of course he doesn't remember, but that was a nasty one. All the paranormal stuff. We didn't know what we were dealing with back then. But now, oh we are used to deal with you. But possessing Devon is a first. Some possessed us and tried to kill us, but obviously failed."

"How can you tell that I'm not him? Besides the question."

"Oh it's an aura thing. Once you have the experience and a good guidance, you can just tell when a soul isn't in their rightful place."

"Now, tell me. Did Devon put up a lot of fight? Your answer will change the course of your torture."

"Devon is ok. He's in the body of the guy downstairs. It was an accident"

"Sure it was. That would make sure that we couldn't kill you or him, right? We're not so stupid, mister. Although I will not enjoy killing my son, there is no other choice."

"If you kill me, I will go after you even more. I have for the past 20 years and I will even after you die. My soul will not rest until you burn in hell"

"Sure you can do that, but it will take you some time to get out of this thing."

He was holding a wooden object with symbols

"What is that thing?"

"That mister, is your prison. It will bind you inside, until it breaks, or someone opens it on purpose. Which happens rarely if you ask me."

"You're doing a big mistake. Devon is in his room in a different body. Let him atleast get his body back."

"I can't take that chance. Me and my wife have a life to live up to and we won't stop just because our son got himself in some trouble and can't handle it."

"It's your son! You would kill him just so you can continue your killing spree?"

"Oh, definitely. Having a child is a great thing, but taking a life. That's something you won't ever forget about. The control it gives you."

"You're sick. No parent would ever do this to their child"

From the hallway a second voice spoke:"Oh these two are a chatty couple, right honey? So chatty chatty. But we need to hurry up, so get on with this" the mother said towards her husband

I could feel a horrible pain in my chest. Feelings very similar to the ones I felt 20 years ago. This couple was killing me again

"Sorry Devon. We couldn't have done anything" father said

"Devon hates you too!" I screamed out

"You're talking too much" and then nothing.

I don't know for how long this continued. I don't even know what they did with Devon's beautiful body. How they got rid of it.

Soon I started to feel walls around me. Walls? As a ghost I wouldn't be able to. Except if this is their prison that they were talking about.

I opened my eyes. There was only darkness. Nothing else. I looked around and on the other side of my prison was someone sitting, crying.

I got up to approach this person. He looked up

It was Devon. He was crying

"Paul! They killed me. My own mother slit my throat. I told her it's me. But she just killed me and trapped me into thus thing."

"I'm so so sorry, Devon. I never wanted any of this. I wanted revenge for them. But they were ready. They knew. Your father didn't listen to me too. He didn't care. I told him about your soul. But they are more sadistic then I thought"

"Paul, I'm dead. My parents killed me. My OWN PARENTS!"

"Devon, they are horrible people. And we will get our lives back. Maybe not our old lives, but we will. But first we have to get out of here. We're gonna get through this together. Ok?"

Devon collapsed into my arms. I was just glad that I could hold someone even if I was a ghost now. We were gonna get out of here, but I had no idea how

Outside of the ghost trap, the world went by.

Devon's father held the trap tightly as he watched his old house burn. His wife held her head on his shoulder.

"Ahhh, I think I might miss Devon. He gave our life some order"

"He limited us. We couldn't ve ourselves all the time. Now we can. What do you say we go pick up some hitchhiker?"

"Ohhhh, that's a lovely idea. Get rid of that box, it gives me the creeps"

And as the two of them were laughing while leaving, the box was sinking deeply into the river below the bridge until some human would find it.

If Paul and Devon would know what was happening to then right now, they would be devastated.

#male possession #family possession #possession male #body posession #Soul swap #male transformation #straight to gay #Criminal possession

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stxrvel · 1 year ago

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hate is a strong word

summary: you hated Bucky and you were convinced that he hated you back. until one time he was talking to you and it started to sound... lovely? what was happening?

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: 6k

warnings: some bad words, a lot of arguments, a HUGE flashback, a little bit of angst i think? bucky and reader insult each other, reader doesn't like to listen, bucky is easily angered, bucky likes to destroy things when he gets angry but regrets it easily, this is not exactly a healthy relationship(? descriptions of weapons, missiles and buildings being bombed, reader is also very stubborn and likes to put her life at risk… or so.

note: hi guys!! so i came back and i am kinda proud of this one. i think i haven't felt that way in a long time. i gave myself the time to write when i felt like it and it was wonderful, so this came out. also i put the poll for a whole week and i can't change it now >:(, but i think this onsehot fits the angst with a happy ending (im not sure if this fits the angst tho, you gotta tell me) but im gonna try to do something else that fits the vibe, and i'll probably do some other poll to write about someone else. (also i think i should warn you guys that i dont think im that good writing action scenes or tension scenes, so if that's bad i hope you forgive me): anyway, hope you guys like this one!! i love reading your comments so if you want and can, please leave some <33 love you all and see you next time!

part 2

Bucky was really pissing you off too much at that moment. Or maybe you were feeling a little uncomfortable.

He hadn't spoken a single word to you since you had arrived at that tiny house, only shrugged silently and then exploded. You had seen Bucky explode several times before and you admitted that watching him was somewhat entertaining; seeing the faces of frightened people, trying to flee away from his angry face and destructive hands, but physically forced to stand by and listen to his scolding. You used to have fun with that. However, at the time, when you were the extreme recipient of that anger, it wasn't so much fun.

You had already heard a couple of broken glass, shattered wood and metal containers fall to the ground. Maybe five minutes or so had passed and he was barely pausing to look at his artwork. It wasn't too much that he had taken and thrown while you had stayed in the room, but it had all sounded very loud, so you had no choice but to go out and see what he was doing.

You were leaning against the threshold of the hallway to the bedrooms, right across from the living room and kitchen. Bucky looked like he had just finished getting all his anger out when he finally stood silently. He probably thought you were asleep while he was doing all that, as if that sound couldn't wake you up. Was he really that angry about what you had done? You mean, yes, it was very risky, but there you were alive, weren't you?

You felt the best thing you could do was to stay quiet and wait for him to say or do something, because you could risk that angry outburst really coming down in your face. For that moment he had only taken it out on the house, which had nothing to do with your problems, and you didn't want the arguments to start filling the silence that followed his stillness.

But, well, you didn't always do the right thing. That's why you were in that situation in the first place.

“Are you done yet?” you signed your sentence.

Bucky had a tense posture, squared shoulders moving in rhythm with his accelerated breathing. His back was to you, staring at the kitchen counter that had been left completely empty. You knew by the way he was clasping his hands that he was trying to maintain his composure.

“Are you serious?” his voice came out hoarse, a sign of his growing anger.

Maybe you should have stopped there, or when he continued to not turn to look at you, but you just couldn't keep your mouth shut.

“What's your problem, Barnes? Yes, I took a chance, but it's not that big of a deal. It's not for this,” you pointed to the mess around you, even though he wasn't looking at you.

“It's not a big deal, you say?” Bucky moved and you felt yourself watching his angry figure move in slow motion. “What's your problem?”

His beady eyes met yours. You felt a little intimidated by the ripples of annoyance coming off his body, filling the entire room with an unbearable, suffocating tension. His scowl and that strangely calm tone of voice made your hair stand on end.

None of the pieces of glass or splintered wood on the floor looked as dangerous as that expression on Bucky's face. He looked very angry, yes, but there was also something in his eyes when he looked at you. Something like concern… but that was impossible.

“Really, Y/N, what's your problem? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Now, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I was the mission leader!” his voice rose, his body moving forward as he pointed his index finger at himself. “And you were supposed to follow my orders.”

“I did, Barnes, I-”

“No,” he exclaimed, again moving closer. “You didn't do anything I asked you to do! Why can't you just…? Argh.”

You moved back a little as he planted his hands on the dining room table. You felt a little pressure in your chest at the sight of him like this, as if defeated and hopeless. Disappointed. But that was a common thing. That's why you used to have individual missions, and that's why you didn't really like working in a team. You mean, it wasn't wrong to do it, but everything always ended up in arguments because nobody liked the way you worked, so it was better to do it alone, right?

Seeing Bucky like that reminded you of how many times you had seen that look on the faces of Steve, Natasha, Tony, Clint, even Thor… It was never welcome nor were you comfortable with what was coming next, but it was the way you worked, how could you change out of nowhere something you had done your whole life?

Maybe you just had to apologize, sometimes that worked. Because you also knew that, knowing how bossy and caring Bucky was, you should have at least held back a little during the mission. Bucky's patience couldn't stand that sort of thing.

“Listen, I'm sorry, okay? I was a little careless, but that's how-”

“A little careless?” he interrupted you, his voice and face incredulous. "You almost got yourself killed."

“We're in this job under that risk, Barnes, that's not news.”

The man in the middle of the mess ran his hands over his face, elated, frustrated and surely overwhelmed. He let out a sound somewhere between a snort and a growl before turning back to look at you.

“Why can't you just listen?”

His accusing gaze enlarged a hole in your chest that you constantly tried to ignore, planting bitter feelings of sadness that you were usually very good at avoiding. But at that moment, for some reason, you couldn't stop your face from twitching at the strong, hurt tone of the man who looked at you as if he couldn't believe who you are and what you do. It seemed like Bucky was always in denial and today he realized that what everyone always told him was true.

That look, that dull gleam in his eye, that expression of understanding… All of that you were used to seeing, but coming from him it felt different. As if you hadn't really meant to cause those feelings, as if you wanted to turn back time to do things differently. The surprisingly incredulous and remorseful look was digging deep into your head, searing itself with hot iron to make sure to haunt you in the future.

At that moment you didn't care if Bucky realized how much his words affected you. Maybe you deserved to feel that way. Maybe he should have known that it affected you too much, that would surely do more than an apology.

“If only you had listened to me, we would have left sooner and without any trouble,” Bucky spoke again after what felt like hours of silence.

You couldn't take him back. It was true.

“Why did you…? Argh. Whatever. I'm going to report to Fury.”

His figure passed you like a blur. You barely felt his presence very superficially before all was silent again.

Your heart ached again. For some reason, it wouldn't stop hurting that it was still beating.

The day before.

“WHAT?” you exclaimed in disbelief and the director's tired look reappeared.

“It's already scheduled, Y/N, I can't undo it. So just go, try to cooperate together and come back in one piece,” Fury leaned back against the back of the chair, putting his feet up on the desk.

You looked at his shoes as if they were to blame for everything.

“It's funnier to think Bucky reacted the same way,” Tony spoke up, sitting in the chair next to yours, a mocking expression on his face.

“Shut up,” you smacked his arm before turning back to the director. “Sir, you know Barnes and I don't get along and knowing that, what makes you think we'll hit it off on a mission?”

Fury shrugged. “A hunch.”

“A hunch…?” you repeated in a low tone, twice as incredulous that the big SHIELD director had just said that.

“That's it, agent, you're dismissed.”

You left his office on your own, not because you had been dispatched. The walk to the housing complex took you longer than ever at that point.

You'd only had one mission with Bucky Barnes once a couple of years ago and it had been a disaster. Your group missions usually ended with a close call, but that time with Bucky it was like going to hell and back.

You two had never gotten along. Regardless of Fury's hundreds of attempts to get along, you had never managed to vibrate on the same frequency. It seemed more like you repelled each other every time you were together, and it was totally justified because Bucky was too bossy and wouldn't let you breathe for a single second. Every second of the mission had to be ruled by him because otherwise he was going to explode into a sea of rage and, God, no one wanted to piss Bucky off in that Complex. However, you were always the first to tell him that his tactics weren't working or that he was too slow and well, naturally, you ended up arguing.

You met Natasha and Steve halfway to the rooms and from the way they both looked at each other before the redhead approached you knew you must surely have a scrunched up face.

“Did something happen?” Natasha asked as soon as she reached your side and started walking at the same pace as you, slightly more hurried than usual.

“Fury assigned me a mission with Barnes,” you spat out the good news, impossibly frowning harder at the mention of that name.

“Oh,” Natasha nodded. “Well, you could try to work things out-”

“What things, Natasha?” you paused, turning to look at her as everything around you turned red. “There's nothing to fix here, because Barnes is a stubborn, obstinate, childish, bossy, stupid man who is incapable of speaking like a civilized adult and only knows how to shout orders everywhere as if he's the bossy one in the Complex. I can't stand him!”

“Wow.”

You heard his voice.

“I hope you know the feeling is reciprocated.”

You turned to see him, his body was leaning against the island at the entrance to the kitchen, in a strategic spot as if you could never realize he was there because your path was to the other side. Natasha watched between the two of you like a tennis match, fearful as if at any moment the screaming would start and she would have to run away.

You didn't know what to do. You were super angry, yes, and you felt your blood boiling inside your veins, too. And you'd said all that stuff to Bucky's face before, and God knows how many times before you'd argued just by seeing each other in the halls of the Complex. Despite that, you felt trapped. The anger was still there, yes, but his gaze pierced through you like a sword.

“Believe me, I don't want to go on this mission with a stubborn, obstinate, headstrong, ignorant, individualist like you either, who cares not for the safety of the team but for her own victory, no matter how she achieves it.”

With his eyes sharp, his heavy footsteps approached you, echoing in your head loudly like the second hand of a clock. He had stopped at a safe distance as he spoke and at one point Natasha had grabbed your arm when it seemed you had tried to approach him as well.

“You're a hypocrite,” you spat at him.

“Ha! Me?”

“You always play the saintly dove, but you know you're not much different from me.”

“I'm nothing like you,” Bucky wrinkled his face, as if the very thought caused him to shiver with disgust.

“You're an individualist, too, imposing your plans on others.”

“You never have a plan! What do you expect me to do, let you go and die?”

“I do have plans! But you don't like them because they are more effective than yours.”

“They're more effective at the cost of risking more of our lives.”

“That's what our job is all about!”

“Our job is about protecting! How are you going to accomplish a mission if you're dead?”

“Well, I've done pretty well so far, in case you haven't noticed.”

“If I had a nickel for every time you've gone airhead straight into danger and ended up nowhere near dead, I'd have as much money as Stark.”

“And if I had a nickel for every time your stupid, slow plans have caused you to lose sight of the target and made you come back empty-handed, I'd be twice as rich as Stark.”

“At least my kill rate is minus five.”

“And my hit rate is one hundred by the way.”

“Are you even listening to what you're saying?”

“That I always finish missions on the first try, unlike you?”

“That you're treating your life like it's something insignificant.”

“Ah, now you care about my life?”

Natasha tightened her hand around your forearm again preventing you from again getting too close to the man who was getting on your nerves. Before he could respond, you spoke again:

“Look, Barnes, to make it absolutely clear to you for the rest of your long life: I love my life and I love my job. I love my life because it allows me to have this job and I love my job because it allows me to have this life. If you have a problem with how I choose to do the job, that's just that, your problem. But don't think you're coming here to give me a psychology lesson to make me believe that I don't value my life just because now you've run out of arguments. It's because I value my life, Barnes, that I always come out of every mission unscathed. I don't put myself at risk because I'm oblivious. I always have everything figured out and that's why everything always works out for me.”

Bucky snorted, his body moving away from yours, but despite that expression on his face he didn't respond again. He gave you a sidelong glance before walking back into the kitchen.

Your shoulders felt a little lighter. For a moment you thought he was going to continue arguing.

Natasha next to you sighed, finally letting go of your forearm.

“Why did you hold me so tight?” you frowned at her, rubbing the part of your skin that was slightly red. “Did you really think I was going to fight a super soldier?”

Natasha shrugged under your gaze.

“We've known you to do crazy things.”

“I wouldn't have stood a chance of beating him even if he gave me the upper hand.”

Five hours earlier.

You hadn't seen Bucky for the rest of the day after that discussion, until the next day when you had to get on the Quinjet and didn't even glance at each other.

Steve was in charge of handling the airplane and, apparently, he was also in charge of briefing you on how you were going to proceed on the mission, because Bucky was too busy drilling holes with his gaze somewhere else on the Quinjet away from the two of you.

Neither spoke when you descended nor when you approached the base apparently in a state of abandonment.

Bucky's mission were flat and simple, but as usual he had no backup plan, because all his backup plans were the same: run away. Bucky had a chick's sense of survival, that's why when things went bad was the time when he would scream at you the loudest.

Just like it happened on that mission.

“This place is deadly quiet,” you spoke for the first time, barely earning a sidelong glance from the man next to you.

You had already finished thermo-sensor checking every floor of the building and it was indeed desolate. Still, you felt a strange uncomfortable chill run down your back.

“Well, that's what deserted means,” Bucky commented, his sarcasm sharp.

You rolled your eyes at him, even if he couldn't see you, and kept walking with your gun raised as you approached the checkpoint.

“I mean I can't even hear birds or crickets, doesn't that strike you as odd?”

“Well, we're on the fourth floor, wouldn't it make it stranger if you could hear them at this altitude?”

“Well, you can hear at this height. Tell me, do you hear anything down below?”

Bucky paused. They were a few steps away from reaching the room. His deadly stare caused you nothing but boredom and you would have ignored him completely except that he let out a sigh, dejected. You detailed him minutely as he seemed to focus his hearing on external sounds.

“There's nothing,” he spoke after a few seconds, his brow slightly furrowed.

“You see?”

“But that doesn't mean anything. We'd better finish this quickly.”

Ignoring the grimace on your face, Bucky moved to step into the room whose door was wide open. You stared offended at his back and felt the urge to smack his big head with the butt of your gun.

“Here it is,” you heard him exclaim from inside.

Sighing you made your way to where he stood. A large display of old computers anchored to the wall.

“You should do it yourself,” you looked at Bucky with a smirk. “I don't handle equipment this old.”

Bucky only snorted in response and moved with his gun to another side of the room, leaving you in complete silence to do your job.

You moved quietly and sat down in front of the machines. You plugged them into the power source you brought in your suitcase and in a few minutes they began to work.

The mission was simple. There was one of the old HYDRA bases that contained specific information that Fury needed to find. Up to that point, they had searched about seven abandoned bases without any success. So there you were with Bucky, at the eighth base they had identified, digging through old commands and in another language trying to find the information they needed.

Ever since they left the Complex that morning you were convinced you would find nothing. They had already raided several bases and there were still a few more to go. The probability that you would find that information at that time was…

Bingo.

“Got it,” you exclaimed to Bucky.

You heard his hurried footsteps and then felt the warmth of his body next to you.

“Is that it?”

“Just a folder.”

“And why does it load so slowly?”

“It's an old computer, Bucky, it works at its own pace.”

Bucky gave you a sidelong glance. “Wish you understood me like you understand that thing.”

“Aish,” you pouted by way of mockery. “Jealous, Barnes?”

The aforementioned just snorted.

The load was running at forty percent and truth be told, yes, it was too slow. But you could do nothing but wait, there was no way to speed it up.

Bucky paced back and forth behind you and you just watched the green lines move as if that helped at all. But, well, what else could you do?

At one point, as the charge was about to reach eighty percent, you heard interference on your communicators.

“Argh,” you shook your head and raised your hand to move the device a little away until the sound died down. “Steve?”

There was no response.

You turned to look at Bucky, who had the same quizzical expression.

The interference returned and then you heard Steve's voice distorted.

“… of… moment!”

“What the fuck is he saying?”

Bucky remained silent, tapping the device on his ear as if that would fix it.

But you saw it before you heard Steve's voice again.

A clump of people through the window. A freshly loaded cannon.

“Barnes…”

And at that moment, Steve's voice filled them with clarity.

“It's an ambush! Get out of there now!”

The quickness of the impact didn't let you process what was happening. Less than a second after hearing Steve the ground shook beneath your feet. The cracks in the floor started small and then swallowed you apart.

You held onto a beam, barely lucid enough. You propelled yourself upward, swinging your forearms over the patch of ground that was still intact. You heard Bucky's grunts in the distance. He was surely all right.

You heard him call out to you too, but as soon as you could sit down on the ground, the first thing you did was to reach for the pendrive.

Your heart was pounding, so hard it might as well have flown out on its own. Your breathing accelerated, with adrenaline rushing through your body was the only thing you could feel. At that moment you felt capable of anything.

You stood up quickly to look out the window again. The people were gone and the cannon had been destroyed.

It was at that moment that you realized that Steve was still talking on the communicator.

“I'm fine,” you replied, after being able to decipher his words amidst the constant buzzing from the sound of the explosion and the dizziness you felt at the sight of the hole next to you.

“Okay, you're both fine,” the Captain spoke again.

“Y/N, you can get down from there and get to the floor below. I'll catch you.”

At the sound of Bucky's voice, you moved away from the window.

Bucky had landed on the floor below, and yes, from where you were you could jump up and you'd probably have nothing but a cramp.

“How's it going up there?”

“Well, the shields are holding up okay, but I've got poor vision. I think they're regrouping somewhere else.”

You looked around.

Most of the floor had swallowed up the computers, but the main one was still loading the document. You could see the green from where you were. It was at ninety-seven percent.

But it was dangerous to get too close. The pendrive was dangling from the main computer which was about to succumb to the cracked floor.

There was some concrete left in front of the computers that you could walk across, so, without a second thought, you mapped out a mental guidance plan and moved forward.

“Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?”

“I'm getting the pendrive.”

“What? Are you insane? That side of the floor isn't going to support your weight!”

“Yes it will. I know how to do it.”

You started walking all over the remaining edge of the floor in front of what was left of the computers. Small pieces would break off as you passed causing Bucky to hiss.

“Y/N, you'd better stop and get down right now. There's still a risk of them firing again.”

“I'm gonna get it, Barnes.”

“Y/N! Get down, now!”

Ignoring his command, you held onto the remaining wall in front of you as you continued on your way, almost reaching where the pendrive was, about to fall into the abyss.

Ninety-eight percent.

“Y/N!”

“Fucking hell, Barnes, will you shut the fuck up? Your yelling is breaking my concentration.”

“You want me to just stay quiet while you walk to your certain death?”

“I'm not going to dieee- ahh-”

Your left foot, the one in front, wobbled as a piece of the floor came loose. You clung tightly to the wall as best you could, breathing deeply to calm your racing heart. Panicking at that moment wasn't going to do any good.

“God, I can't believe this,” you heard Bucky's voice, muttering to himself. “Now are you really going to get off?”

His voice sounded reprimanding, but agitated. In the midst of that mess, you wondered for a moment if he was really worried.

“I'm almost there.”

You heard him grunt in the distance.

You kept moving your feet in the direction of the main computer, this time more cautiously and more slowly. The floor all along that edge was too cracked, on the verge of falling. You were surprised it had lasted this long.

At that point, Bucky started talking to Steve, but you kept your full concentration on not falling. Maybe Bucky was right and you really didn't have any regard for your life, but…. No, no. You were very sure of what you were doing. You couldn't give up without trying everything. Maybe for Bucky it was too risky, but that was your life. And you knew you could do it.

Ninety-nine.

You had reached the critical point on the ground.

The voices of the two men were becoming too overwhelming, so you quickly took off your communicator and stuffed it in one of your tactical pants pockets.

“What the fuck did you just do?” Bucky exclaimed, a considerable distance away. He wasn't as far away as you thought.

“Your voices are distracting me!”

Good. You were close. Maybe from there you could reach it… if you stretched a little… a little more… a little- Whoop. Nope. You weren't that close. Another chunk of floor fell and with it everything around you shifted. The concrete was so unstable that it tilted further into the abyss after your not at all incredible maneuver.

You had to get even closer.

You had to use plan c.

But for that, the pendrive had to be one hundred percent charged and you weren't sure you could wait for that. Or well, you weren't sure the floor would hold. You had to be quick.

You heard Bucky behind you, but his words were carried away by the wind. You couldn't focus on him because that would be too distracting.

So, arriving at point x, you executed your plan as quickly as possible.

You ran. Even if the world was falling down, you ran. In the direction of the pendrive. The green number didn't change. You took a deep breath. You felt the sparks fly around you. The sound of the ground cracking was going to haunt you in several dreams.

You picked up the pendrive. You would have a few extra seconds as you leaned over and climbed over the computers to gain momentum.

The bing of the computer filled you with a rush of adrenaline.

One hundred percent.

You jumped. You held your breath for a second. Nerves built up in your throat. You felt like you were going to lose consciousness for a minute. Maybe you heard Bucky in the background, you weren't sure, but knowing him he was probably still scolding you.

In the midst of a deep exhalation…

Your feet hit the ground. You rolled. You moved quickly as you turned to see that the ground was still falling. You got up and ran.

You ran until you collided with a solid body. Bucky was shaking your shoulders.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he exclaimed, his face angry.

You could hear Steve's voice through his communicator because of how close he was.

“Shit.”

He grabbed your arm and you ran again.

Somehow, Bucky managed to get you out of the building as they bombed it again. You had a gunfight the moment you touched the cold snow.

You moved alongside Bucky like a symphony, aiming and firing with your gun until you managed to get away.

When you noticed that you kept going and kept running…

“Where's Steve?”

“If you had your fucking communicator on…”

Bucky grabbed your hand again to keep running.

You quickly reached a shack that looked abandoned and the man next to you wasted no time in letting go of you and running in the direction of what appeared to be a garage. There was a motorcycle.

You reached into your pocket only to realize that the communicator had been destroyed.

And Bucky looked too angry to want to talk.

“Get on.”

He drove all the way into town, but he didn't stop there.

You were on the road for at least about two hours. You had no idea where you were.

Somewhere along that trip, Bucky stopped in front of another abandoned shack and from there he pulled out a car. He set the bike on fire.

You went back on the road, for at least another hour.

Until you reached a small town and Bucky finally stopped in front of a house that didn't look so neglected.

“They destroyed the Quinjet's shields at missile point. Steve had to leave. We'll stay here until I can get through to Fury and we know what to do.”

His voice gave no room for retorts.

Present.

Well, yes, you were a bit reckless during missions, but so what? You got what you needed thanks to your incredible action plans and always came out unscathed. If you didn't do that during missions, how far behind would they be now in their knowledge against the enemy? They would probably be sitting ducks. Bucky didn't see that.

You two didn't talk for much of the afternoon and evening. You had spent it in the living room, trying to avoid the mess he had made to get something to eat and rest. You had perhaps slept for about three hours when you woke up and saw him sitting in one of the dining room chairs. The room looked cleaner than before.

Bucky sighed when he realized you had woken up.

“I'm sorry I yelled at you.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Earlier when we arrived. And for all the mess,” he averted his gaze when you leaned on your forearm to get a better look at him.

“Don't you think it was the least you could do?” quizzical, you sat back on the couch.

“Weren't you the one who said I don't know how to talk like a civilized adult?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Sometimes.”

“Well, now I want to. That's why I deeply apologize for reacting that way.”

You remained silent, not really knowing how to answer him. On the previous mission you'd had with Bucky, when the whole mess was over and you were quietly in the Quinjet taking it all in, Bucky had only said “you're fucking crazy” to you before exiting the aircraft. There was no scolding, at least not from him, no complaining, no yelling. Just that. And with that you stayed for a week because you never even saw him again.

Despite the number of times you had heard that, you couldn't see it that way. That was your job, that was what you did and you didn't dislike it. You had done it forever, it was basically your way of life and you had always done it excellently. You trained and practiced for situations like that, that's why you were part of SHIELD's risk management team for so long. You used to risk your life like that to save other people and it didn't bother you. Now you were still doing it, also to save people. There was no dark reason behind it. You were contributing to a common good and that was enough.

“I guess I haven't made things bearable for you either,” you admitted with a hint of remorse.

“No, never,” Bucky shook his head in agreement.

“I'm sorry I scared you,” the words slipped from your mouth. You wanted to say something else, but, well, that had to work.

Bucky let out a short laugh. His head jerked in sync, his shoulders loose as if he didn't have a care in the world. For a moment you felt like you were somewhere else; maybe in a living room, some alcoholic beverage in one of your hands as one of your favorite songs played softly in the background, and Bucky. Bucky sitting in front of you, just like that moment.

Wow. What the fuck was that?

“You apologize for my reaction, but not for what you did?” his sly grin was getting on your nerves. You preferred it when he wasn't trying to upset you at the point of smirks. You never thought that was a weapon he could use against you.

Feelings.

Ew.

No, I hate Bucky Barnes. This is unacceptable. Mind, get your shit together.

“Well, I tried to do that earlier and you didn't care. I don't know what you want from me, Barnes,” you turned your head away, nonchalantly playing with your hair to avoid seeing those light eyes again.

“You'd better leave it at that. I couldn't take that knack away from you if I tried for years,” the sigh that accompanied his words reminded you of something you'd thought of when you were in the building. His face still looked calm, but a little upset by the wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“Why do you care so much about that?” you asked him directly now that you had the chance.

You looked at him as he turned his head away, his eyes roaming over your face, confused.

“Are you asking me why I care about your life?”

Puzzled, you shrugged. His look almost made you think that was a weird thing to ask, but was it really? “Yes. Well…. You hate me.”

“What? I don't hate you,” Bucky shook his head, his face more contracted than before as if you'd said he had cat ears on his head. He looked almost offended.

And that was the really strange thing.

You mean, almost as long as you'd known Bucky your relationship had been based on fights and demeaning adjectives to each other. That he would say that made even less sense than you asking him why he cared so much about you. He had to be pulling your leg.

“What? But I hate you because you hate me,” you explained vaguely, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. That was one way of putting it; that is to say, Bucky never gave any indication that he didn't hate you. Or well…

“I don't hate you,” Bucky shrugged, his nonchalant expression confusing you that much more. “You're just a little… insufferable sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes. “That's just a synonym for hating.”

“I don't hate you,” he repeated, this time turning to look you in the eye. For a moment you felt like your breath caught in your throat and you were going to choke. “I know we argue and say a lot of things to each other, but… hating is too strong a feeling.”

“Are you really serious?” you shook your head to get the extraneous thoughts out; that wasn't the time to make a discovery, to realize you had lived a lie.

“Yes. And just to make you more sure, I wouldn't mind hanging out with you outside the Complex,” Bucky blurted out, matter-of-factly.

Your head went blank.

“WHAT?”

Several seconds stunned.

Bucky barely cracked a smile at your dumbfounded expression. It sure looked like you'd actually seen cat ears grow on his head. The things he was now saying… they didn't make sense. “You dislike the idea that much?”

“Do you want to not say things so drastically different every moment? You're changing my perception of reality.”

Bucky kept his small smile and you had to swallow hard to ignore the warmth that settled in your chest. It wasn't welcome, not at that moment. The sound of that music in the living room in your head was getting louder, as if your own mind wanted to mock your surprise.

“Well, back to your question,” Bucky moved his hands nonchalantly over his lap and your eyes followed his movement unashamedly, “I don't see why I shouldn't care about your life. We are partners, after all.”

Partners? After all you had been through? Were you partners? Did Bucky believe that?

“Are we?” you didn't try to hide the incredulous tone that accompanied your words, because it already sounded like you'd just stepped through the door into a parallel dimension.

“Sure,” Bucky nodded to emphasize your words and the calm expression on his face became more familiar with each passing second. Could it be that that had always been the reality and you had been deprived of it? “We've known each other for five years.”

“I always thought you hated me…” you mumbled to yourself, looking lost because your head recalling every fight of the last few years, since you met him, every tongue out and every exalted word, but his incredible hearing clearly picked up what you said as if you had murmured it in his ear.

“Surely it was a mistake in communication.”

“Mistake?” you frowned at his reassurance. “You always called me stubborn and childish every chance you got.”

“I thought we were annoying each other. Although, of course,” his face became a little more serious, “there were times when I knew you hated me intensely. You said really hurtful things, what was I supossed to do? That's why I never bothered to talk to you like this. You did hate me.”

“Because I thought you…! Argh.”

Bucky smiled again.

“You're the insufferable one, Barnes.”

You hated the way your head snapped back to that image in the living room, so peaceful and calm, so serene and warm, the moment his barely noticeable smile hit you again. You had barely managed to get those words out of your mouth before you felt yourself running out of breath again.

Were you asthmatic?

And why was your head suddenly filled with platonic thoughts you'd never had before in your life?

What the fuck was happening to you?

“This is the longest civilized conversation we've ever had,” Bucky spoke again, his gaze wandering somewhere in the room.

Yes, that was true. Whenever you talked for this long it was always to argue and say hurtful things to each other. But you were too surprised by everything he had said, because just yesterday he told you that he didn't want to come on this mission with you either and in his eyes you were sure you saw something like what you felt. Something of hatred, when you saw your eyes through his.

Did you just… imagine it all?

Did you think he hated you because you hated him too?

Or maybe you wanted to convince yourself that he hated you. Maybe it was easier to deal with that than with the idea that you…

Oh no.

No, no, no. There's no fucking way that's it.

But then Bucky stood up and with his smug, know-it-all, hateful look, with that sly, evil grin, like he'd always known everything, like he was squirming around enjoying your confused stare, he held out his hand to you and said:

“Shall we fix something to eat?”

Oh, no, you were screwed.

a/n: thank u so much for reading!! <3

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fluff #james bucky barnes #stxrvel talks #avengers #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #the winter soldier

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jellicatty · 3 months ago

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Hello! That's great to hear! May I request Tenya Iida x reader? Tenya is pinning for reader and vice versa and not established relationship, yet. :>

I want a scene where Tenya reacts to reader that used to have very long hair and the next day, she surprised everyone with her whole haircut, like Haruhi short, or two-block haircut that's normally for boys— and it shocked the whole class 1A.

The reason? "It's easy to manage, and no I'm not a lesbian. 😅 I actually feel more confident in myself!" This is kinda personal for me, I hope this is okay!

❝ A NEW LOOK ₊˚ ❞

Class 1A's President shamelessly falls head over heels again when he sees your new haircut.

╰┈➤ contains : tenya iida x gender neutral reader. reader had long hair. flirty iida (?) (a bit ooc). sfw. fluff. 976 words.

╰┈➤ note : thank u for requesting! i applogize if this took a bit long huhu, hope you like this ♡

It was no secret that Class 1A's president favored someone. It was no secret even to you, the object of his affection.

Tenya Iida is known to be an abider of rules, never breaking them for the sake of short-lived joy. However, his strict principles seem to crumble in your presence.

One of those instances was when you both stayed back for intense training, under the guise of "improving our skills together".

"You... You've shown great progress, Y/n." Tenya struggled to say as you pressed his arms down harder against the training mat. His flushed cheeks only darkened at the pressure he felt from your legs straddling his torso. Your cockiness also added a charm that only made his heart beat faster.

"Can't say the same for you, President." You giggled and continued your actions. "You think so?" And in a flash, you were lying on your back, caged between his arms that trapped your arms.

"Wasn't expecting that, huh?" Tenya glanced down at you, adoring your cute flustered face.

You once thought scenarios like this only existed in books. You never once hoped something as cliche as this to happen to you. However, the feeling of being held down by your president, your crush— a small part of you was glad it happened.

Unfortunately, your fairytale only lasted for two seconds. He sensed the tension thickening with each passing second, then immediately released you from his grip. An awkward silence hung, eyes avoiding each other while your mouths refused to open.

"F-Forgive me for my rudeness!" He suddenly blurted. "No, no, it's training Iida."

Looks like training is over, you thought. Before you could go to your things, Tenya walked towards you with slight hesitation in his steps.

Without warning, his hand went up to your face, pushing aside the strands of hair that covered your eye. If the situation earlier wasn't enough to send your heart skyrocketing to the stars, then this moment surely did.

"I'm looking forward to improving my skills with you again, Y/n!"

And that was how the night ended— at least to you.

︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶

The light chatter of Class 1A went normal, just like every day. Bakugo screaming at whoever disturbed his peace, Mineta being weird, Kaminari and his friends laughing at their jokes, Momo and her girls in their corner, Shoto reading alone— and Tenya, obviously in front of the class reminding everyone of the rules they need to follow (his words are like white noise to them).

"How did training go with Y/n yesterday, Iida?" Midoriya curiously asked his friend. The sudden question caught Tenya off guard, stumbling at his words when he tried to explain.

"Did something happen~" Ochako wiggled her eyebrows, teasing their president.

How can Tenya even explain his affection for you that only grew every day? After all, romantic feelings were new to Iida. Sure he did have small crushes on some superheroes but to a classmate? His beautiful, kind, and passionate classmate?

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the collective gasps of the class. Concerned by their reaction, he searched the room for the cause of their shock. Then, his eyes met yours.

"No way!" The whole class erupted in awe at your new look. Your face was normal, your uniform was the same, and nothing unusual could be noticed from you.

Except, for your hair.

The long, flowing, and gorgeous hair that Tenya admired. Now, it was transformed into a cut that matched the boys.

"I guess it fits me...?" You sheepishly questioned their reaction and happily went to your seat. Instantly, a crowd gathered around you, your classmates asking different questions at the same time.

"Woah! This new look definitely makes you manlier!"

"I wish I had the courage to cut my hair that short."

"Was the haircut intentional?"

"Why the sudden change, Y/n"

You laughed at their interest in your new look.

"Short haircuts are just easier to manage, you know? And it hasn't been a day since I cut my hair and I already feel confident!" You joyfully explained your reasons.

"You sure about that?" Mineta squinted his eyes, doubting your explanation. You rolled his eyes at his suspicions, "It's not because I'm lesbian, you idiot."

Amidst the commotion inside the class, Tenya stood frozen in his position, legs not wanting to walk forward in your direction.

He'll surely miss your hair that's for sure, but god you look stunning as ever even in your new look. He's head over heels for you, and now he's wondering why you can't notice his undeniable fondness for you.

Just by briefly glancing at you, his heart beat as fast as recipro burst's speed. He shamefully stared at you again, legs turning jello at the graceful smile you gave to your classmates.

"Are you just gonna stand there?" Tsuyu asked Tenya who remained motionless, only snapping from his thoughts at Tsuyu's question.

His stiff body betrayed his screaming mind, walking towards where you sat. The crowd had finally died down and now it was just you in your seat, in your own little world.

Now's the chance.

Tenya gathered his bravery for the courageous move he was about to do. With a ferocious spirit, he declared his thoughts on your new look.

"Although typically done for boys, your beauty has not faltered despite the new haircut!"

Silence fell between the two of you. Tenya began to worry about the sudden confrontation, but his anxiety faded when he heard your small laugh.

"Thank you, President." You thanked him for his compliment, eyes sparkling with unspoken emotions.

He let out a sigh and smiled back at you. Now, Tenya only wished confessing his feelings was just as easy as this.

#tenya iida x reader #iida x reader #tenya x reader #mha iida #mha #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #tenya iida #mha tenya iida #| 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐁𝐘 𝐉𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐘 (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

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catmelonwriting · 6 months ago

Text

Arguing with Mori

Warnings: Mori in general, hitting, he's a lil possessive yk, age gap (reader is 18/19, Mori is 40), he's a bitch, not proofread, kinda unhealthy relationship

Characters: Mori Ougai

A/N: this is the only thing I can bring myself to write bc I've been obsessed with Mori recently. Sue me. This is heavily inspired by a scene in Lolita 1997 because that movie is fucking relatable and it's all I can think about recently.

"Alright, that's it."

The car screeched noisily as Mori pulled over, thankful for the relatively empty roads making it an easy task. You two had been fighting over something stupid - but you made it just a little too serious with that last comment.

"You want to disrespect me in my own car? Then get out. You can walk home yourself. I don't care." He hissed.

It was pouring out, and there was even some thunder. It was about 3 miles till you got home, not too long in the car but to walk? It would be terrible. "Are you fucking kidding me?" You scoff, staring at him with disbelief in your eyes. "It's 9pm, pouring rain, and you're gonna make a teenage girl walk home alone? Are you trying to get me killed you dickhead?!"

"I'm not making you do anything. All I want is a simple apology and we can drive home normally, and pretend this didn't happen." He leans back in the driver's seat, taking his hands off the steering wheel.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You screamed. "Like actually, what is wrong with you?! You say you love me then all you wanna do is fuck! And when we have a normal argument, like a normal couple, you lose your shit and do things like this!" You were going to continue, but you were cut off by the most menacing look you'd ever seen him direct at you. You'd seen that face before, of course, directed at nosy subordinates or people who were doing him wrong, but never at you. Never at you.

You stop talking and move to unbuckle your seatbelt, ready to leave the car, but Mori stops you by wrapping a single hand around both your wrists, pulling them towards him before you could even unbuckle. "I thought you wanted me to leave." You snarled.

"Quite the contrary, dear. I would love for you to stay, but if you're going to keep acting like a little brat I might just shove you out of the car myself." He says smoothly, his voice dripping with condescension.

"Oh, so now you're holding me captive? You're a kidnapper and a creep? I mean seriously, what forty year old man dates-" you're cut off by a harsh slap on your cheek and a stinging sensation as he lets go of your wrists and sighs heavily, resting his elbow on the center console and his forehead in the palm of his hand. "God, you make it so difficult to love you sometimes."

You can't help it. Your lip starts to quiver and you start wailing as you turn around and shove the car door open, pushing yourself out of the car and onto the sidewalk. You begin to run away, you're not sure where you're going but you need to get away. Away from him. You're followed by the sounds of him calling your name and the door of his car opening and closing.

You don't look behind you but you know he's running after you, you can hear his footsteps and the heavy breathing until he finally catches up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against him from behind. By now you're both absolutely soaked in rain water, your clothes sticking to your skin and against his as he holds you there.

You turn around so you can sob into his chest, choking and coughing out apologies into his wet jacket. Eventually he leads you back to the car, opening your door for you and buckling your seatbelt.

Once you're both buckled and in the car you're silent. Neither of you can bring yourselves to say anything. You know he's not going to apologize for hitting you no matter how guilty he may or may not feel. He never apologizes, he just brings you designer purses and beautiful makeup the next day and it's enough to get you to forgive him. It always is.

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #Mori x reader #Mori Ougai x reader #ougai x reader #Mori Ougai

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annab-nana · 10 months ago

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For your sleepover!!

Hawkins high puts on a winter formal you wanna take eddie but scared he will just want to stay friends. Robin and Nancy talk you up to ask him to the dance. But what you don’t know is that Steve is talking Eddie up to ask you to the dance🥺🥺🥺

EMILY ALL YOUR IDEAS ARE GOLD I LOVE THEM (p.s. i had a lot of fun writing this one)

warnings: not proofread, kinda long for a blurb

❀ masterlist ❀

"why do i even have to go to winter formal anyway? i could just stay home. i like that idea. let's go with that plan," you said hopefully and got up to walk away. however, robin's arms around your waist tugged you back to your seat. so much for that plan.

"no, just no," she told you, resulting in your annoyed huff.

"i don't get why you can't just ask him," nancy shared, a thoughtful expression on her face. "the worst he could do is say no and he won't do that."

you looked at her incredulously. "i can't ask him because i'm not you. not everyone looks like you and has the innocent sweet charm you have. not everyone is fawning over me. not everyone can pull steve and jonathan. and yes, that is the worst thing. it is the absolute worst thing in the world. you don't realize how big this is. i..."

you trailed off to train your eyes on the floor and take a small break before you got too worked up. this was stupid. it was all so stupid.

"i've been in love with him since we were kids. i can't throw all that away. i'd rather go with him as friends than embarrass myself by asking him for more when he just wants to be friends and nothing more. i just can't risk it, okay?"

you looked back up at the girls, both of their faces full of pity but nancy's held some guilt in it as well. it made you feel awkward and want nothing more than to be somewhere else.

this time when you stood, neither of them made any moves to stop you and both watched you walk out of the empty classroom.

"i feel bad," nancy told robin who shrugged in response.

"it was worth a shot," she spoke, trying to retain some optimism. "let's just hope steve is having better luck with eddie."

currently, he was not.

"she's my best friend, steve," eddie said for the fifteenth time as if steve wasn't very aware of that fact.

"most couples are friends before they start dating, munson. you don't just fall straight in love. you like them before you love them and you won't ever know if she loves you if you don't try. do you really want to live never having tried to tell the person you love that you love them?"

"this is all so easy for you to say. you're fucking king steve," eddie shared before watching steve's shoulders deflate. he always forgot that he hated that nickname now that they were friends. "sorry."

"it's fine."

"it's not," eddie fought prior to getting back on track, "what i was trying to say was that you have girls falling at your feet everywhere you go. forgive me if i am not a hundred percent on board with how easy you are making this seem."

steve stepped forward, clasping his hand on eddie's shoulder to make sure he had his focus. "it is that easy, though. she loves you, man. anyone can see it."

steve tried to plead with eddie with his eyes, but eddie's expression changed from pure helplessness to slight suspicion.

"what do you know?" eddie inquired.

uh oh, steve thought as his eyes widened ever so slightly and his hand dropped from eddie's shoulder to scratch at the back of his neck.

"i- i don't know what you mean. i-"

"harrington." eddie's tone was one of warning.

"nothing, i know nothing."

eddie stepped up to steve, his eyes baring into steve's. "if you don't tell me whatever it is that you know, i'm telling henderson that it was you that broke his bard miniature, not tews."

"damn it, eddie," steve grunted as he ran his hand over his face. you were surely going to kill him if nancy or robin didn't beat you to it. "you can't say i told you, got it?" eddie's nod was so small, steve almost didn't see it. "she's in love with you, man. i was pretty sure because it was so obvious and then, a couple weeks ago, she drunkenly told me she was in love with me but she thought i was you. so, i asked her about it the next morning and she made me swear not to tell, but here i am telling you. anyway, she is absolutely in love with you and the winter formal would be the perfect time for y'all to get together if one of you would just ask the other. nancy and robin are trying to convince her to ask you right now."

steve had never felt so guilty in his life—not even when he broke dustin's bard and blamed it on tews—but in his head, he was making the right thing happen, so it didn't matter in the long run.

eddie's silence was starting to get on his nerves though.

"come on, man. say something. my ass is on the line here."

"she's in love with me?" eddie questioned in utter disbelief.

"so much it makes me sick."

"oh fuck, i- i gotta go."

"good luck," steve shouted eddie's way as the metalhead bolted out of the empty theater room.

when eddie found you, you were angrily switching out your books in your locker. you were nearly done when eddie ran over to you, but you didn't even notice him until he pulled your locker door back to look at you.

the action surprised you, causing a gasp to fall from your lips.

"jesus, eddie," you griped while grabbing your last book and shutting your locker door with an unintentional slam. "what do you want?"

if he wasn't on cloud nine with the news he just heard, your sour mood would've affected him.

your words must not have registered in eddie's head because he continued to stare at you like he was in some sort of weird daze.

"dude, are you high?" his eyes weren't glassy or red, but his pupils were blown.

you watched as he came to his senses and regained consciousness enough to speak.

"no, no," he answered, shaking his head, "but i have a question for you."

"okay, what is it?"

"i wanted to see if you wanted to go to this winter formal thing with me? like actually go with me?"

any other day, you would've been elated to hear that, but you couldn't fight the thought that nancy and robin were behind this. you wanted him to ask you because he wanted to, not because he was told to do it.

your frustration presented itself in the few tears that lined your eyes when you rolled them in annoyance.

"who put you up to this? nancy? robin? steve? someone else who thinks they know what's best for me?" you shook your head at it all. "god, i need this day to end."

"hey, no," eddie spoke softly in the way he always did when he was trying to calm you down. his hands came up to cup your cheeks, making sure your eyes were on him. "no one is making me do this. i just finally have the courage to quit being such a pussy and ask you out. we don't even have to go to the dance if you don't want to. we can do whatever, y/n, but i want to be with you. i don't want to spend the rest of my life regretting not knowing what could have been because i was scared of losing you."

you swallowed while your eyes bounced between his momentarily. "you really mean all that?"

a single tear fell from your eye, but it didn't get to travel far down your skin before eddie's thumb wiped it away. "every damn word."

a watery chuckle escaped you and a genuine smile spread on your lips. "yeah, i'll go with you."

"really?"

you nodded and surged forward to kiss his lips, pulling back to say, "you bet your ass, munson."

remember to support writers & reblog :)

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurbs #blurbs #rebelemilu #❀ emily ❀#winter wonderland sleepover ✧*:･ﾟ

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mydarlingclaudia · 1 month ago

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mouthful of love

note : I had to write a cannibalism fic at some point it was inevitable I love this shit I wrote this kinda for myself but yk. This fic does contain dark content so if you don’t wanna read then that is totally fine <3

wc : 1.3k

tags : @withonly-sweetheart

desc : mission gone wrong, the rest of your team had already been killed, so when you end up dying in that same mission it only makes things worse. but Chris can’t just leave you, right? no, that would be cruel, but he can’t really drag around a dead body with him either. who’s gonna know if he took a few bites out of you just to keep you with him? the place had already been crawling with monsters, it wouldn’t be a totally crazy thing to find on a corpse. established relationship, major character death, gore, cannibalism, fem!reader, anywhere post re1 Chris

back to the party <3

A dead body.

The one of the woman Chris loved most in the world, the one who held his heart in her hands like it was something that needed gentleness and care.

You deserved to die somewhere beautiful, surrounded by the ones that love you most, not in this dirty land filled with monsters. He’ll never forgive himself for letting this happen, for letting you walk into the room first just to get torn apart by a monster that he later killed while you lay gasping for breath on the floor.

Chris held you as you died, it was just the two of you, all the others on your team had already been killed, backup wouldn’t be there until the next morning. Chris should’ve retired years ago, like you had asked, should’ve stopped smoking, like you had told him to. But he didn’t, you still loved him, and with all of his working and smoking, you joined in on it with him, you go down before he does.

You were too good for the kind of work he did, even though the BSAA is where you met, you stayed with him all those years.

If there’s two things he knows how to do, it’s fight and remember every loss that happens in his life. He won’t forget yours, ever.

He can’t just leave you. That couldn’t seriously be an option he’s supposed to choose and carry on with the mission, what if something came back for you? He can’t leave, not when he can still smell the cigarettes you both used to smoke on your breath, not when you still look like the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

Blood that normally looks good on your skin, as long as it’s someone else’s, makes Chris’s stomach twist into knots. It’s out of place, it shouldn’t be in your face, on your torn clothes, spilling out of the gashes in your stomach and throat, staining the floorboards beneath you.

Chris can't tear his gaze away from your dead eyes, how tears had started to form along your waterline, hardly getting a few seconds to roll down your cheeks. The warmth of your body is quickly fading, that doesn't stop Chris's fingers from digging into the fabric of your shirt any less, he knows you're well past saving.

The blood just won't stop coming out, he's been surrounded by blood all his life, but yours feels like acid against his skin. There's nothing to clean your skin with, he doesn't want to wait for your body to be lifted up into a helicopter and flown to some hospital where he knows they won't care for you like he did.

Chris can't just let you look like this until backup arrives, the image of your bloodied body is already burned into the back of his mind, staining all the other memories of you. Wiping away the blood with his shirt sleeves doesn't help, it just smears it across your skin, why can't he find a way to treat you with the same gentleness you had shown him? He knows his face is wet with his own tears, what else is he supposed to do?

Once you get back home it's going to be over, you'll be buried and out of his life, no piece of you left to him. You can't just... leave him like that. There were so many things that the two of you still needed to do together, he's not going to be able to make you coffee again or have you rub his shoulders after a long day. Your hands don't grasp at his arms anymore, you aren't struggling to sit up while you choke on your own blood, he's not begging you to hold on for a bit longer.

He's not supposed to be able to see the inside of your throat, and he's sure that if he reaches down and dips his hand into the gaping wound that your stomach turned into then he'll be able to feel your organs. Your warm blood already coats his hands, he'll feel it for the rest of his life, there's no saving him or you.

He can't love you again, he can't take you with him, but he certainly can't leave you. The color hasn't drained from your face yet, memories of him sinking his teeth into your flesh when you're in your shared bed flash through his mind as he looks you over.

Chris really shouldn't be thinking about the things he is, really shouldn't be wondering how warm your flesh would be the closer and closer he got to your bones, shouldn't be thinking about you sitting in his stomach, if you'd still taste the same as when he'd kiss you. But he's desperate, and he has strong teeth.

Your blood fills his mouth when he finally bites down gently onto your neck right over the gash, he bites down harder each second that passes, breaking the skin and beginning to tear away. Chris is surprised how hard it is, he doesn't know if you have thick skin or if human flesh is just harder to chew through than steak. But he lets it sit on his tongue for a few seconds before he starts to chew, your blood dribbles down his chin and soaks his stubble, but he swallows down whatever is in his mouth.

He almost can't swallow it, but he does eventually, deciding not to waste you. The second time he leans in, he licks over your neck, gathering the blood on his tongue as if he was cleaning you. Then he bites down, tears off a bigger chunk, chews, chews, chews, and swallows it down again.

You taste like metal and raw meat, unsurprisingly. Chris never complains about his meals, he won't eat all of you, his jaw will start to hurt and he's not sure if he can bring himself to tear into your organs, but he will eat what he can.

Chris will bite off what he can until he gets to those really chewy bits that people avoid eating in their beef or chicken, your skin is hard enough to tear through as-is. He'll move lower down, eat what's left of your neck before he starts to dig into your stomach. And he does that, the front of your throat is bitten away until he feels bone scraping against his teeth. He’ll leave the rest of you alone, let your arms stay intact, resist the urge to sink his teeth into your breasts and thighs.

Your stomach is harder to dig his teeth into, he's about to move to a different spot but he remembers the knife that rests against his thigh. The blade of the knife cuts into your skin much easier than his teeth did, he pulls away thin slabs of meat before he makes a deeper cut, cutting around the wound. He only stops when he slips his knife in too deep, he knows he hit an organ, damn his shaky hands.

His knife takes its place back in its sheath against his thigh and he figures he's done, he's full. The rest of you goes untouched and he buttons your shirt back up like there aren't odd chunks of meat missing underneath, not to mention your poor throat.

He sighs, running a hand over your blood-soaked hair. Bloody kisses are pressed to your face and body, Chris eventually plants a few onto your lips, this is the last time.

Chris doesn't know what he feels right now, just like he doesn't know what he's going to tell the rest of the team when they show up and see your body that's been cut up like it was an apprentice butchers practice pig.

You're still pretty, that hasn't changed. Chris can still taste your blood in his mouth and he's pretty sure he's got something stuck between his teeth, but it's okay, maybe this is just a bad dream, yeah? Oh, who is he kidding?

Whatever, he ate you, it's done, you're part of him now. No one's around to judge, right?

#claudia’s halloween bash ♡#resident evil x reader #resident evil #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield #dead dove #dark content

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blissxjj · 10 months ago

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Obey me brothers x angry MC

Angst+SFW

Featuring: Lucifer/Mammon/Beel

Lucifer

You and him haven't talked in about two weeks it's not even about the argument anymore, he is always so busy and leaving you alone for an extra week was pure torture to your heart, he was away When he should have been at your door asking you for forgiveness, sometimes you wonder if he ever really cared about you

He just came back from a meeting with Diavolo, and was heading to his room when he passed your and heard a quite voice speaking

He opened the door and peeked in to see MC trying to bandage her hand as it was covered in blood

Lucifer barged in and held your hand gently and looked at it for a second before you took it away from him and he said you

"MC please let me see your hand"

"Why do you care all of a sudden go back to work i can handle myself" you said as you tried to tie the bandage around your wound

"MC why must you be so difficult...hey...listen i am sorry about the argument and i apologies for not giving you the attention you need"

You gasped not expecting him to apologies that easily you hand him your hand as he quietly wrapped it up and kissed the back of it.

Mammon

Fight and arguments don't usually last long with Mammon because he apologies first and fast all the time but this time it was a bad fight and you two been on a break for three weeks

Yep three weeks

Mammon was passing by your room today when you exited he was standing right there, you both froze in place and looked at each other when you immediately notice Mammon's black eye and gasped

"Mammon! Who did this to you!?"

He ignored you and walked to his room you were right beside him walking fast to reach his walking speed and you grabbed his arm gently

He turned to see your pleading eyes for him to both stop and explain what happened but he wasn't gonna go down so easily

"I thought you didn't care about me?"

"I do care you are my first man how could i not care" you said giving him the cute eyes

"Fuck....um- you wanna know what happened?" He asked then said before you could answer "fine i got into a fight in the casino last night" he explained

You sigh and hug him

"I am sorry for our argument the other day and anything i said that might have hurt you in any way"

He can't stay mad after that cute apology now can he.

Beelzebub

It was bad...

You two haven't spoken in a month both equally mad at each other but you were right how can he let some fangol fan girl hug and kiss him on the cheek for a picture? And he was smiling too!?

You confronted him and he said it was fine but you became jealous and it got into a big argument and you both agreed to stay away from each other until you are ready to have a proper discussion

But Beel can't take it anymore you were right he had to put some kinda of boundary between him and the fans and how would he feel if another male demon did that to you

You were obviously still angry not even looking at him

He approached you after dinner in your room

"Beel please i don't want to deal with you right now i have more important things to attend to" you said

"What's more important than me ?" He said

"That girl you were with" you said bitterly

"Oh come on i realize my mistake please i will never let it happen again"

"It already did happen and you let it happen your apology means nothing to me right now" you screamed

Only after the words left your mouth you realized how bad they were, Beel left and you felt bad

You knew he was bad with expressing himself with words yet when he tried to apologize with words you said that it meant nothing

"Beel wait!" You said

He looked back at you and you didn't know what to say so you just cried and ran to him, Beel caught you in a tight hug

He wiped the tears from your eyes and you said

"I am sorry your apology means alot to me"

"It's ok Y/n, can we just go back to what we were?" He said hugging you

"Yes i love you Beel" you said

"I love you Y/n and i am not done with my apology yet...let's go out and have dinner my treat whatever you want"

Masterlist

#fandom #fanfic #stories #obey me #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me scenarios #obey me beel #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon

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wh0refornikolailantsov · 1 year ago

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Dreams Of You - Nikolai Lantsov

Summary: Sleepwalking was not something Nikolai was used to, but he thought maybe it was the stress, and at least being back at The Palace should put an end to the way he somehow kept walking to your room. Except it didn't.

Prompt: "I Wish I Could Control Myself Around You." (Also 5+1? Kinda)

Content Warning: No Beta/Proof Reading. Vasily. More Specifically Vasily Being Presumptuous, Rude And Demanding. Some Suggestive Content, But Not Explicit And Not Overly. Unwanted Advances From Vasily. Teeny Tiny Mistaken Identity Trope If You Squint. Explicit Language. Questionable Behaviour And Intent When Sleepwalking. Not Beta/Proof Read.

Word Count: 5k

Nikolai Taglist: @hauntedenthusiasttragedy , @writingmysanity

The night is long and the ocean is unhappy, swaying more violently than you'd like as you drift in and out of sleep. You find yourself wishing morning would hurry in through the port windows so at least your restlessness would be justified. You turn, burying your face into an arm and hoping the tide of sleep might find you sooner than the tide underneath you. The Volkvolny is usually much calmer on the waves, and your sleep is often more forgiving, but something wants you awake tonight, and the Saint's aren't letting your consciousness slip into sleep. You try recounting the stars that should be overhead by now, mapping out the small burning lights in the sky on the wood above your head, as if you could see through the deck and into the dark blue night. When even that fails you, you consider freeing whoever is on deck from their duty, and taking over. But you stay still, your bed may not be calling you, but the bed is a comfort all the same. Not long ago you kept yourself in a hammock like a lot of the crew, but recently the tides have been changing in more than one way, and you find yourself laid on flat supported comfort, that almost reminds you of a home you never really found on land but imagine nonetheless.

The door to your room opens with a fumbling of the handle, just as sleep begins to take you. You blink in the dark, trying to figure out what is happening in the darkness. Your eyes adjust enough to make out the captains silhouette before you find him laying down on the bed beside you.

"Sturmhond?" you ask into the silence. "What are you doing?"

After a few attempts to get his attention, you realise, what likely should have been obvious from the sluggish movements, and the uncharacteristic quiet of him, that he is in fact asleep. You smile to yourself, amused at how he has found himself lain next to you on your bed, in the depth of sleep. You start rolling the jokes you can make at his expense through your mind as he moves to get more comfortable. You chuckle gently as you feel an arm reach for you.

"Careful," you warn him, gathering the warning might seep into his mind even in his sleep. But it seems to have the opposite effect as he reaches for you more eagerly. And it's not until you feel his lips brush your neck that you move urgently up and away. "Okay, no, that's enough of that, Sturmhond, wake up." He does not, and you grip a hand over his shoulder, shaking him gently. "Wake up." You're about to give up trying when he starts to whisper in his sleep, and barely any of the words register in your mind between your own tiredness and the low tone of his speech but it's enough to send you spiralling, so you break protocol slightly. "Nikolai, wake up," you aren't sure if it's the roughness of your voice or the use of his real name but he blinks awake. His eyes stare up into yours for a few moments while he adjusts, and then widen at the realisation that he is looking at you and wide awake.

"I am not in my..." he starts, voice all sleep soaked and charming.

"No, you're not," you confirm. "You sleepwalked, right into mine."

He gathers himself together, starting to scramble up. His apologies are all fumbled, and he stands, and in your fully awake state you can't help but noticed just how un-creased that white bed shirt of his is, and how he sleeps with far too many buttons undone. "Stop," you tell him, pulling your blankets back and nodding to the excess of space in your bed, "you're not going back to your room," you tell him.

"Why?" he asks, eyeing you.

"Because you might sleep walk again and you might be unlucky enough to find yourself in someone else's quarters, someone less understanding," you tell him. He doesn't argue with that, but is still hesitant as he lays back down, still reeling in thoughts of all the ways to apologize to you. His subconscious has betrayed him on a whole new level and he cannot even find the words to explain or excuse it, not that he would try, he just says he is sorry again.

"I can go back," he says. You just shake your head and push his shoulder down gently, turning you back to him.

"Just go to sleep Sturmhond," you mumble, gently mocking but mostly sincere.

"You don't mind?" he checks. Truthfully you don't, you doubt you will sleep worse with him here, you'll probably even sleep better. And there are quieter reasons why you don't mind, reasons based in desire that you keep tucked away. But you don't let your mind linger on that, especially when Nikolai deep in his sleep had tried to press his lips to your neck and you'd had to stop him.

"No," you assure him, "not if you can shut up, I know that is hard for you."

"If this is your seduction plan it's very verbose," he mumbles. The fact that he is half asleep and using words like verbose, still, makes you both want to throw him overboard and kiss him, and you cannot tell which urge is more prominent.

"Besides I think Tamar would be much less understanding if she woke up to you attempting to seduce her," you retort. He opens one eye to look at you, your back still to him.

"I didn't..." he starts.

"Please, like I'd let you get more than hand on me before I would wake you with a knife to your throat," you joke, "now captain, please, I beg you. Go. To. Sleep."

Nikolai was sure now that you were off the Volkvolny and in the palace, that the night trips might stop. It had become slightly worrying that waking up in a room that was not his own had become somewhat a normal outcome of going to sleep. But it had always been your room, and you had for all your jokes and teasing, been very gracious about the whole thing, so understanding of a situation you needn't have been.

He tries not to think about the strange comfort there is about waking up next to you. Because then he might have to address the feelings laying just below the surface and he cannot do that.

But tonight, the third night in the palace you are woken by the sound of the door catching on the lock as it attempts to open. You move to your feet, bare skin against the cold stone of the floor making you jump slightly, feeling more awake. You unlock the door and it gently nudges open, and for all the surprise you thought you might feel, you feel none when you set eyes on Nikolai. You do not bother to wake him. You let him find his way under the soft covers and you let him sleep. When you attempt to move he reaches for you, and that tugs at the seams inside your chest and you're fit to burst.

The ceilings of the palace are intricate, painted into woven patterns that tell stories if you look at them long enough, and you often find yourself looking at them. Your sleeplessness has gotten worse. You don't like to admit it, but you quietly wait for Nikolai to turn up, knowing the only time you really get any true rest is when he is beside you, which is a transient situation that you know could never be anything but temporary.

The softness of the bedsheets, has you spiralling, so soft, so endlessly welcoming, it all feels false, until you hear his breathing beside you, the thump of his heartbeat, and then the doubt slips away, and sleep sets in.

In your dreams you're chased by memories from your time on deck, how you and Nikolai played a game of convincing some of the crew you could grant wishes if they could beat you at cards, Tamar was the only one to ever manage, and you know she cheated. Nikolai could beat you, you knew this, but he never did, in your dreams you remember the conversation when you asked him why, and in the favour of the game he answered, "when I have a wish worth making I will come to you." You had thought of plenty of wishes worth making in the time since, but he had asked for none.

His eyes are glazed with sleep as he blinks awake, the sunrise seeping in and setting the room into a gentle glow. You haven't moved, his arm stretched over you as a silent request for you to stay close, a request you are far too happy to oblige, even if you know better.

"How many rooms did you wake up in before this one?" you ask, bringing a glass of water to your lips.

"Only my own," he says, voice groggy as he stretches. "I thought maybe whatever it was had left itself on the ship."

"Yet you find yourself here again," you say. "You should probably get back to your room, your highness, before they bring you breakfast and set off some type of alarm when they see you missing."

"I doubt that is a likely outcome," Nikolai yawns.

It happens twice before you start to get into a pattern of waking him up shortly after the bells ring out for morning.

You open an eye to see Nikolai as he slips into the bed beside you. "For a Prince you have terrible manners," you tell him in his sleep, "could at least learn how to sleep-close-my-door, if you can sleep-open-my-door."

He moves and you see a dark patch against the white of his bed shirt and your sudden alarm peaks as he leans close to you. "Nikolai," you say a little too loud, a little too snappish and he wakes up.

"Sorry," he starts his apologies, "I don't-,"

"No," you warn him, "you didn't, just hush, are you bleeding?"

Nikolai sighs and sinks into the comfort of your bed, and you lean over him, examining the blood soaking his shirt. "You're injured," you state. You gently tug the soaked fabric away from his body, to try and prevent it sticking to the wound. "Can I?"

"I wake up in your bed most mornings, I think we can skip the fake modesty," he says, smirking at you. You give him a gentle glare but roll up his shirt. His wounds were bandaged but in his sleep he seems to have gently pulled some of the fixings away.

"Nikolai," your voice is more hagridden than he is used to hearing it, usually you are more inclined to mock him in situations like this.

“I am fine," he insists. "Needn't fuss, it is just a flesh wound... a few flesh wounds.”

You shake your head at him, and reach for clean bandages in your bedside table, he doesn't ask as to why you have them and you don't seem inclined to offer an answer as you fix him up. "Nikolai, you're a prince again, not a solider, not a privateer, a prince, you cannot be getting all cut up," you tell him, soothing a hand over his bandages. He frowns and looks at the sheet of your bed.

"I believe that is my blood," he says, "my apologies."

"Only apologise for not keeping it in your body where it is needed, I will hear no apologies for the mess."

Once you're done you start to get to your feet. "Where are you going?" he asks, cocking his eyebrow at you.

"To close my damn door, is that okay your highness?" you ask, hearing the door click close. You'd wanted to close it sooner, but had gotten distracted. You should have closed it sooner, but how were you to know that Vasily would be wandering the halls, looking for a drink and would stumble a glance through your open door to see you and Nikolai. How were you to know that, you leaned over the second prince of Ravka, in your bed, your back to the doorway, whispering in hushed tones would be caught by Vasily. Had you known, you would've easily guessed the conclusions he must have drawn from the sight, but you return to your bed none the wiser, at least now satisfied at the locked door.

"Nikolai what do you dream of?" You ask quietly, not sure if he is still awake. His breathing pattern shifts slightly.

"I don't know," he lies, you know he is lying, but you don't call him out on it, "I don't remember my dreams."

Something felt wrong before you even had reason to realise it. You could hear the footsteps down the hall, and you wondered how late it was, or how early. It felt... too soon somehow. The sun hadn't been long buried by the gulf of the horizon. Usually it took more time passing for Nikolai to fall asleep, and only in the depth of that sleep did he find his way to you. But the footsteps continued to get nearer, and you knew there was really no other reason for someone to be down this way at this time of night.

You rolled over, letting your eyes fall on the curtains, knowing he will let himself in. You feel tired, but not because sleep is calling you but rather the weight of the day is pressing you into your bed.

The door opens and you don't bother looking up, even when it shuts again, even when the pacing of the strides seems unfamiliar, part of you is screaming something is wrong, but you've been thinking about that for a while, but this is a different type of wrong. Not the, we shouldn't be getting so comfortable, not the, we really need to address this situation, not the, you're catching feelings for Nikolai Lantsov, type of wrong. Not the, you're realising you've had these feelings for a long time and they've only just been getting worse with every night he spends in your bed, kind of wrong.

No. This is the type of wrong you can recognise with your eyes closed because of all those things, because you know all the little mannerisms of Nikolai, awake or not, you know how he moves, how he walks, fuck you know how he breathes, you are sure you could pick it out in a crowded room. And this, this wasn't right.

It's when he goes to kiss your neck that you know, that you're sure, but the words come out of your mouth before you open your eyes, "none of that," you say too softly.

"Why don't you let him kiss you?" Vasily asks. You knock him so hard and fast away from you, shoving him with enough force that he falls back off your bed. "Strong one, huh?"

"What, the fuck, are you doing here," all rage, any trace of confusion gone with the sight of those sickly lion eyes. You're not sure what it is about the king and his first born, but they have this eagerness, this entitlement that Nikolai doesn't have in those eyes. They think everything is owed to them, that by breathing the air owes them a debt. You think they'd be this way royal or not. And the way Vasily eyes you now is no exception, he seems to think he is entitled, and he is so many shades of wrong.

It might be the collision of body with floor, and the resounding sound that seems to echo in these walls, or maybe it is the tone of your voice and the sharpness of your words, but whatever it is, it jolts Nikolai from his sleep just before his hand lands on the door of your room.

"Come on," Vasily looks you up and down as if to say 'don't play coy,' and you want nothing more than to cut those eyes out. "I know you like a prince."

Nikolai snaps at that, it sobering him into a sense of alertness he hasn't felt from rising in a while. He might have grown complacent in this calmness, waking most mornings to the gently sound of your voice bringing him back to the world.

Nikolai has his brother by the collar before you can get another word in, and Vasily just rolls his eyes. "Don't like the idea of waiting your turn?" he mocks. You would curse him out, but Nikolai is steps ahead of you, holding his brother tighter and pushing him with more force than he should into the wall. Those eyes of Nikolai's look fierce even in the dim light. "Not eager to share?" Vasily asks, trying to keep the mocking tone, trying to show no agitation, "you never have been, but being protective of a whore is a little much."

"If you so much as look at them again Vasily I will commit acts of treason," Nikolai warns, his voice so steady, so pledging that it doesn't suit the words of heralding threat he is speaking.

"Brother," Vasily tries. Nikolai slacks his grip only to shove Vasily once against, shoulders first, against the wall.

"Do not call me that right now," he warns. And all that usual hybris and bravado that Vasily holds onto, that self importance drains from him in this shadowy dark of your room. Nikolai giving him a look that dismisses any doubts Vasily might have that Nikolai could not do him harm. He could, and he will, and that's a promise as much as a threat. "Get out."

Vasily shakes himself off, and pauses, as if to have another word, some quip, but a look of withholding in Nikolai's eyes makes him think better of it, and he leaves promptly, which you're confident is the only thing keeping Nikolai from violence. One more word from Vasily's mouth, the snarky tongue of that future king, and Nikolai might not have been able to hold himself back any further.

"Nikolai," you say, as if you calling to him might bring him back. His gaze turns on you, and it's urgent and desperate, searching you without a second thought, all impulsive and concern.

"I am so sorry," he starts with the apologies, you've gotten oddly used to hearing him say these words, but they've never been less needed.

"Vasily is not your fault," you remind him. He moves closer, wrapping his hands around your forearms, fingers tracing delicate circles, to calm down.

"He would've have come here if it wasn't for me, he..."

"He must've seen," you finish, "he made assumptions, wrong ones, but understandable ones."

"Nothing about accusing you of being a whore is understandable or forgivable," the protectiveness of how he talks makes you want to kiss him on the forehead and pull him in tight. You settle for a soft chuckle. "Why don't you lock your room?" He asks. It isn't an accusation, not a way to shift blame, it is just a question that has played on his mind and now he has a reason to ask.

"Why do you find yourself in mine?" You ask in return.

"Because you let me in?" he jokes, and there it is, amongst that boiling rage, that keeps him clinging to your arms to not run after his brother and commit those acts of treasons he threatened to commit, is Nikolai.

"Prince Nikolai Lantsov, Major of the Twenty-Second Regiment, Soldier of the King's Army, Grand Duke of Udova, and second son to His Most Royal Majesty, King Alexander the Third, Ruler of the Double Eagle Throne," you mock, "how many rooms did you try to get in before you found mine?" You're smiling, because you're trying to focus on him, and now, and forget the lingering feeling of wanting to drive the letter opener in your bedside table into Vasily's eye and watch him bleed across the floor.

He gives you rueful smile, trying to be here with you, focus on you, not think about his brother and the ways he wants to tear him to shreds for daring to come near you. "Only ever yours."

"Wake up," you whisper gently. You don't want to, you want to let him sleep, you want to let him stay in your bed because these moments are the only time you feel real lately. Everything seems to be happening around you, and to you, to Nikolai, and you feel like you have lost whatever semblance of control, or illusion of such control, you ever had. But especially since Vasily and that incident, things have been even more complicated. Vasily is too much of a coward to call Nikolai out for threatening him, or for showing him up. Vasily is too much of a coward to confront Nikolai directly at all. But he has been making things difficult. So you're being extra careful. And the idea that this, whatever it is, might be coming to an end all too soon, is not passing you by.

"I'm back again," he says, blinking into the day. He hadn't woken when he let himself in and you hadn't wanted to disturb him, so you'd shut the door and tucked him in and fallen asleep, forgoing any of the chitter chatter you both would usually have in the early morning. But even though the sun was yet to rise, these thoughts were keeping you awake, and your need to talk to him was outweighing it all.

"I changed room," you remind him. This was something else you'd taken to doing after Vasily. "How is it you always find my room?"

"Because I must be looking for you," he says. Those tired eyes, look at you and if you would let yourself consider it, you'd call the look in them longing, you know it must be how you look at him. Your gazes overflowing with the need and yearning that aches, your craving for him being near you worsened by every small moment.

"Is it time?" he asks. You move a small part of his sleep tousled hair back into place and the sound of his voice, the cadence reminds you of a few nights prior.

"Tell me to leave," Nikolai said.

"I won't," you told him. "Just rest."

"Not yet," you murmur, "you can rest a little while longer, I just wanted to hear your voice." The confession is out of line and you know it, but the lines are so blurred between the two of you now that they feel more like suggestions than rules.

"I thought you said I talk too much," he says, face turned part into the pillow and part resting on your shoulder.

"You do," you tease, "but I kind of like that about you."

"I am growing on you," he says, so close to falling back to sleep, "or you're going soft."

"Never," you taunt, "I don't do soft."

Things only got more complicated, like you knew they would, but you never could have predicted where you stand now. You're not far from Nikolai's coronation, and you're sat in the window of the latest room you've been housed in, wondering if tonight he will come to you, or if maybe, the last night was the last night. You knew there would be a last night, but this seems sooner than you ever thought it could come and yet each night always felt like you were overstaying a welcome, living a life that wasn't yours, taking something that wasn't yours to take. Even if it had always been and would only ever be, him finding him way to you.

But now more than ever, the finite nature of it all was staring you down and you couldn't look it in the eye. He was going to be king, he was engaged to the Sun Summoner, even if only in name and not in heart, it was still a fact as much as any other. You were never going to be the option he needed you to be, you aren't even sure if he wanted that from you. Since that very first time on the Volkvolny, he has not again asleep or awake tried to make a move to change the dynamic you two shared, this quiet longing, these warm arms that hold tight but are needed elsewhere by sunrise. You have no way of knowing what he wants, even if his sleep always brings him to you. And even then, wants are not always enough.

The door opens behind you and you turn around, it's early, the moon not quite where you'd expect it to be to be seeing him, but when you turn his eyes meet yours and you can see that he without a doubt, awake. "Moya tsaritsa," you say, "what do I owe the pleasure?"

"None of that," he says, he loves the attention, he loves the joke and the teasing of your tone, he even loves in his way that he will actual be king, but he is not yet king, and in this moment, with you, feeling anything but weary of the title feels inappropriate to him. "Not yet anyway."

"Fine, moi tsarevich, what do I owe the pleasure?" you correct. There is a distain in his glance that he keeps playful. "Now if you've come here under the impression I will be granting wishes, you are mistaken, I have long given up that business."

"I wish I could control myself around you," he replies, and that makes you still. "Is that a wish you can grant me?"

"Is that a wish worth making?" you ask, barely daring to move.

"I suppose not," he admits, "I don't think I would really want it." He moves the distance of the room to be beside you and you can feel his presence as it joins yours, as if it had been missing from you the whole time, like a part of you was simply returning home.

"You are awake," you say, no explanation is needed. He nods.

"I am," he admits. "As are you."

"I am often awake until you arrive," you tell him.

"And on the days I don't?" he asks. They are few in number, you'd both attest that since the first night his sleep based visits only became more and more frequent until they are almost all the nights, a night to every day bar one or two.

"I don't really sleep," you confess, after all, what is a tiny confession like that between the two of you now. You can feel his need to tell you something, the question that he isn't asking, and you want to make it easier for him.

"Ask me what I dream of," he says, "I know you asked me once, and I said I did not remember my dreams, but I lied," the content of the confession isn't surprising but the confession itself takes you off guard. "Ask me again, what it is I dream of."

You can't, you don't know how, the words escape you and the request that falls from your lips in their place might be equally as damning. "Tell me that I cannot have you," you say.

"What?" he asks, turning his head to look at you. You keep your eyes focused on the glass, and the view of the courtyard.

"Tell me that I cannot have you," you repeat, trying to keep the feelings bursting out of you from your words. "Is that a wish you can grant me?"

He says your name and you look at him, and that's it, the words come falling out of you before you can keep any of them down. "Tell me that you can never be mine. Tell me that you are going to marry Alina, or some Shu Princess because that is your duty. Tell me that you shall be King and I could never be more than your whore. Tell me I could never be your spouse. Tell me that you do not want me. Tell me I could never be more than a paramour. Tell me that too much is at stake for you to care about me. Tell me that all these nights you've found me in your sleep have meant nothing. Tell me you do not think of me. Tell me you do not dream of me. Tell me it's all some childish, fairytale fantasy. Ask me to ask you to leave again. Make me tell you that I could never be yours knowing you cannot be mine. Tell me you do not have feelings for me Nikolai. Tell me," your voice cracks, "please."

"I will not," he says. "I will not force myself to live with another lie on my conscience, not one this heavy. I cannot tell you any of those things because I have never wanted to make you anything other than mine. I will not tell you that lie even if it's supposed to be a comfort to us both, I cannot, I will not," he takes one steady breath, those eyes still on yours, and you see the puppy prince you once knew in the eyes of the King you've grown to love, "ask me to leave," he manages, "but not because it's right. Not because I am royal. Not because of duty or honour. Not because you think I should choose Ravka over you, as if those were my only choices. Do not ask me to leave because it's what you think you ought to do. Ask me to leave, if that is what you want me to do. I will never ask anything of you again. Do you want me to leave?"

"No," you say. You never have. You have never had it in you to want him to be anywhere but nearer than he is, closer, with you, always.

"All of my dreams," he says, moments before his lips meet yours, "they've always been of you."

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai x reader #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai x you #vasily lantsov #king of scars #rule of wolves #siege and storm #ruin and rising #sturmhond #im a simp for nikolai lantsov #was this based on a dream i had #maybe #mind your business #maybe i dream about nikolai lantsov more than i should but thats my issue #i request we do not worry about how much i think about this man

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harmless-pest · 9 months ago

Text

((HEY TURNS OUT I LIED AGAIN

I thought i didn't write down any of my plans for this blog, but it seems like I did? so here's some character bios I wrote and the synopsis of what was gonna happen in epilogue (unfortunately without visual direction)

The following content was written in 2017, only meant to be read by myself and is mostly unedited

LORE

The underground is going empty. Slowly. Mostly he stays at charas grave, bc he's a fukkin flower and would die without sunlight. The only other place with light is the palace and there's too much traffic there in and out of the underground. He wants to avoid people after what he did. Not that anyone remembers any of it, resets or the god thing (it was kinda cool he doesn't super regret that. More later) but he feels like. Bad about it and doesn't know how to deal with THAT baloney. he'll still go out every now and then though to see the state of the UG, explore abandoned places, hear word of the surface from locals who decided it wasn't for them or just came back to visit. None of them know who he is, but some are familiar with a weird flower they've seen popping out of the ground and suddenly disappearing. He absolutely idolizes frisk for saving the underground, doing what he and chara never could. But after a while alone with himself he realizes that frisk just coincidentally came at the right time. First he idolized chara, then frisk, and then he realized HE was the one who became a GOD and broke the barrier himself and sure frisk helped but he could have done it on his own! He's charismatic enough! Who needs frisk, they aren't even that great or cool! They had the power to reset and didn't even do anything cool with it! They went around one whole time and that was it, they weren't even interested in the experimentation and mind games... He gets very lonely without frisk. He only knew them for a day but they were kind and forgiving to him unlike anyone else has ever been. He misses them. Sometimes frisk will come back to visit but he'll hide in the other buttercups, ashamed he's a flower again and afraid to talk to them. He's fuckin constantly monologuing he's so lonely. Without someone to cut him off he just keeeeeeps gooooooing He kidnaps absolutely everyones mannerisms and gets so mad if you point it out He's been around for 2-3 months in reality, which is a fuckton of time for resetting esp compared to frisks single day. He had to get real bored to stop for so long and let it all play out. He's just glad he chose to stop on a timeline where everyone was relatively happy so they could all be saved. Where is chara? He doesn't know. He still misses them but he doesn't care much to see them again anymore. Chara wasn't that great, but they also weren't that bad. They were his best friend and he idolized them. Chara was sure they were the angel sent to free the underground and he believed them. He hates what happened but he doesn't blame chara for it. For a minute when he 180s on them he does! But he's just angry and the more he thinks about it he can't stay mad. They were just kids. They didn't know. this is what they get. He doesn't care for humans one bit. He's only met 2 and the rest tried to kill him on sight. As a whole he doesn't hate all humans, but he certainly doesn't trust any of them. He was once obsessed with humans, its kind of like having your favorite celebrity be a jerk but worse. Part of the reason he stays underground is to avoid them, but touristy humans go down there sometimes so it doesn't always work. Many times when he goes to ask how the surface is, its to affirm his beliefs about humans. And often the bias in the underground is on his side. Grillbys is still open down there so he mostly goes there for Intel.

The vague amount of time it’s been since chara and asriel died is fairly short. Short enough for chara to know snowdrake, short enough for chara to have instigated the gyftrot thing and introduced the underground to christmas

THE GREAT ANALYSIS OF FLOWEY

Primary motivations: fear of death, fear of loneliness. Fear of death trumps all, as being with friends puts him on the surface where theres too many people and things that have killed him before.

He’s dependent, picks a favorite person and latches on. Personality is largely a construct of traits he pulled from others.

He’s self-obsessed in that he’s constantly analyzing his own behavior and thinking about what he’s doing. May be an asriel trait refined by ages of carefully shaping himself to behave in certain ways at certain times. He’s not actually that snappy and quick to anger? At least not normally. He’s in a bad mood lately but when he wants to, he can stay perfectly composed. The threats are just a mechanism to get others to fuck off.

He’s an open book who will keep going on about himself if prompted, and if he’s not trying to hide something from a specific person. Exacerbated by the fact that he’s been talking to himself for so long.

Nasty cognitive dissonance. He will carefully look at all potential issues and outcomes but will find excuses and land on the one that benefits himself/his desires. (ie, he wont admit it but he knows theres nothing really keeping him away from frisk)

He’s been living a long time “without consequences” yeah but he’s extremely critically aware of all consequences. Every action he takes is calculated, he’s just roleplaying 100% of the time. Now that he can’t reset, there are consequences, so he’s very afraid of doing things and fucking up. Part of the reason why he doesnt want to see frisk is because he can’t believe they like him and he thinks that if they learn more about him, they’ll stop. He doesnt know they know everything about him. Frisk is his special person, he cant stand to lose them.

A lot of this is devoted to him figuring out who he is as a person

Doesn’t care for life but fears death because he doesn’t know what’s going to happen without a soul: he fears the unknown

Has the patience of a god but he doesn’t like puzzles that much? He wants the story not the challenge, whereas chara and frisk enjoy the challenge (puzzle enjoyment goes chara>frisk>flowey). Like me, he’ll do the same thing over and over again for hours until it works, but if he gets stuck at a puzzle for more than 30 minutes he’s gotta leave for a while out of frustration. That isn’t to say he’s bad at puzzles, in fact spending so much time with papyrus has made him pretty good at them! At least in theory.

On the surface he has fucking AWFUL crippling panic attacks and he finds it hard to do anything or go anywhere, at least without frisk. 100% dependency and he hates it

First reaction when people do things for him is “no this is bad and I hate it” even if he likes it actually. He doesn't realize he does it until its too late and he's too stubborn to admit anything after the fact. Its a defense mechanism after being taken advantage of, developed because he's so complacent and fine with anything

Unrealistically high and vague expectations placed on him all his life (ur gonna do something big, ur gonna change the world, etc)

His feelings toward Frisk

Theyre his favorite person right now, he’s obsessed with them and loves everything they do. This will wear off and he’ll resent them for a while until he manages to get over it and stop idolizing them. The spite could come out of them having “moral highground” and gently scolding him over little things that add up over time, out of them taking care of themselves poorly because they prioritize others, and by the fact that they’re just as bad as he is as it turns out. He’s afraid theyll stop loving him since he can’t love them. Hes fairly candid about how he cant love them, even asking them if theyre aware he’s just using them for attention and being a leech. What he doesnt know is that frisk is using him as well to stop chara, so once he finds out about that there will probably be some kind of relief.

His feelings toward Chara

They were always the right one, the smart one, as much as he loved them and was fascinated by them and loved to learn things from them, he really hated that part of them deep down though he never snapped and shared it. In the future he will since he’s less tolerant.

His feelings towards the relationship those two have

He’s jealous that they’re so close and know so much about each other. They’re really closer than any two people ever could be since they’ve shared a body for so long. There’s also such a strange mix of love and hate between them that he really can’t read their relationship. He resents the idea of being the third wheel so deeply and he’s particularly spiteful of chara for this since he loves frisk.

His FEELINGS

He super do have them, eh?? He super is actually just very traumatized and lonely and confused eh?? Almost as if he absolutely can and does still love everyone, he’s just detached himself from it. Something very easy to do.

HOW THE FRISK BE

They’re kind of a little bitch and a goth. Rebellious teen days now!! They’re hard to read which can either work for or against them. They don’t really give a shit in a large part about much of anything, especially not now when they’re very concerned with themselves and their problems. They don’t get along with humans or much of anyone their own age for this reason.

Resetting was largely on their hands and they got pretty fucked up by it. Chara did encourage them to do some shit, it wasnt helped that flowey who had forgotten about them was encouraging them too. It was just a bunch of irresponsible kids playing games with peoples lives. There’s also a touch of frisk getting to points on the surface where things are new and changing which scares them into resetting for fear of the unknown future.

Frisk thought everything was fine until they got to the end of all the genocide stuff, that’s when chara lost it. In the whole “you think theres no consequences for this shit u pulled” manner and tried to hold frisk to it. It was a 2 souls one body case where they shared equal control, this was the first time neither cooperated. Frisk wasnt immediately freaked out by chara, they’re both friends and frisk knew they were a weirdo. Frisk gave in and “sold their soul” so chara would let them do anything other than sit around in an empty void. Chara played the next game like their regular old friend. Then they killed everyone. That’s when frisk freaked out and realized their friend had lost it. When frisk learned to regret what they did. They reset to a world where their friends could be alive again and fought their hardest, but Chara still had their way. This timeline, Frisk went out of their way immediately to get any kind of protection from chara. All kinds of supernatural charms and tricks to keep ghosts at bay. As a result, it’s been a while since they saw chara. And they miss chara a lot. But they know that chara watches them and is waiting for the moment when frisk lets their guard down.

Frisk pushes so hard to get flowey to come home with them because they know he’s asriel and they know he knows chara. Maybe he’ll know a way to talk some sense into them. And after everything they did, frisk feels betrayed by chara and can’t call them their best friend. Floweys the only person they know wouldn’t do that, he’s faithful to the end.

Frisk is a fixer though, they still love everyone despite what they did and feel genuinely sorry for the way they fucked up. Including chara after all theyve done. It breaks their heart that they can’t play with chara anymore

When frisk finally explains all of this to flowey, chara’s sitting there busting in loudly at every chance and every disagreement like the fucker they are and flowey’s doing everything in his power to tune them out and just watch frisk’s hands

Backstory and reasons why they climbed the mountain are unknown. They will not under any circumstances talk about their old life, which concerns some people, but prying accomplishes nothing. They try to act as though nothing bad ever happened to them to make them want to climb a mountain no one ever returns from, because life is good now and they’ve got loving friends and family. Even other humans who knew Frisk before don’t know much about them since they never really spoke. For Frisk, pretending it never happened is as good as it never happening, at least so they try to think. But they’ll have some triggers, just need to figure out what.

Frisk talks in their sleep, however it’s only very quiet nonsense gibberish. This shocks flowey, as he didn’t think they were capable of talking at all. It makes him more curious about their past too.

THE CHARA SITUATION

Are they soulless? It’s hard to say since really theyre nothing but a soul, just fractured all to hell and lingering long after they should. I still like the idea of their soul being a little infused with bits form asriels soul too

Before the underground, they were the youngest of a large family that mistreated them. They went underground after the death of their mother. In the underground they were best friends and great siblings with asriel. They hung out with kids they shouldnt have though. They werent treated super great underground either, as a human. They and asriel both got up to shit they shouldnt have.

HOW MUCH DOES EVERYONE KNOW ABOUT FRISK AND FLOWEY

Sans: Frisk assumed he knew everything already so they told him that they and flowey could reset. Didn’t tell him that they’ve killed everyone multiple times

Papyrus, Undyne, toriel, asgore: Doesn’t know

Alphys: let in a little on the reset business

The next section of the document covers the meetings, which were all made into finished comics, and therefore will be skipped.

SURFACE

(note from present Stem: this is all way more uncooked and hard to read than i thought it might be)

Flowey has nightmares that charas coming to kill him. Notably one comic where chara in shadow approaches and then it’s revealed as frisk

The inciting action

Kids make fun of Frisk for being “dumb” and flowey for being a flower and never wanting to be outside (he needs a roof over his head). At one point he snaps back a little too much and loses it a little. Frisk, as a result, tries to stuff him in their bag but this doesn’t calm him down. He blows up the backpack with magic and hurts a bunch of kids in the crossfire, including frisk

Toriel

She walks into the room where flowey is. They say hi to each other. Then she asks if he's feeling well. He's confused, but says he's fine. She says that's good. Then she says he's been behaving strangely lately. Floweys upset by this. “Did my acting get worse or can you see straight through me?” she giggles, “I think its your acting, dear.” she asks him what's wrong, if he's not happy on the surface. He says no, he's happy and he never wants to go away again. He decides that he’s comfortable enough with toriel to tell her this, she was once his mom after all, and in a way she is again. He's confused. He doesnt know what to do while frisk is away at school, since he can't join them after he had a weird episode and threatened other kids. He can play with papyrus and that's fun, but he doesnt really want to do that. He doesnt want to leave or go anywhere without frisk really. Toriel asks if that's why he's confined himself to this little pot. He doesn't really know, and he doesn't want to admit being scared. Toriel catches on though. She sees that he really is just a regular kid in there, and a kid at that since its hard to tell with him being a flower, and hes scared of this big world. The underground has always been the same, small and hardly changing even after all the years since they were trapped down there. By contrast the surface is huge and full of new people and everything changes all the time, and it’s scary. By now she's caught on that he has issues with humans. She says that he can trust anyone in this house, but she understands if frisk is the only one he can really count on. He finally cracks. He admits that hes afraid of frisk getting sick of him since he's such a pathetic mess like this and can't do anything about it. Toriel tells him that frisk never would. They love him too much. But if he's still that afraid, then he needs to try and be better eventually. Sitting around in that pot all day waiting for frisk to come back won't do it.

Alphys

Frisk finally breaks because flowey is being so insufferable and snaps at him. They both feel extremely bad, so toriel says that flowey needs to stay somewhere else for a while (because he won’t get along with anyone else in the house lately so sending frisk away is silly). Flowey hesitantly agrees to it and requests to stay with alphys and undyne. Which means i finally have to try writing for undyne lol. He probably hung out with undyne during frisk’s gym classes since he can’t exactly exercise as a flower. But he can’t go to work with her because he isn’t allowed at the school, so if he goes to work with anyone, it’s with alphys. She might take some time off for his sake too because she wants to get to know him and while she doesn’t fully understand why he’d go out of his way to choose her to stay with, she appreciates it. They watch some anime and al finally gets a chance to pry at him scientifically with a lot of question asking. He holds back on life questions except for ones that pertain only to this timeline and are least incriminating. Watching anime on netflix one night while the autoplay is loading he suddenly says he’s asriel. Alphys chokes on her popcorn or something and jumps to stop the autoplay like “what did you just say?!” “Don’t tell toriel. Or asgore. Please. don’t tell anyone.” ‘i won’t! I promise i won’t say anything to anyone!b-b-but did you really say youre--” “prince asriel. The one who absorbed the soul of the first human to fall underground and got killed on the surface” “b-b-b-b-b-but h-how is that possible?? Y-y-y-you don’t… you d-don’t have a s-soul, i-if you were--” “the flowers in asgore’s garden were growing out of my dust. That determination brought me back to consciousness.” “o-o-oh my g-g-god, I-i…” he finally looks up at her in the eye “alphys, you’re going to take this really badly. I’m gonna tell you everything. If you’re ready. I’m warning you now because this is going to get…. Really… really dark. And it’s going to make you feel awful. But you at least deserve to know. If you aren’t ready, I’ll stop. But there’s no promise I’ll ever be willing to say this all again.” alphys centers herself and turns to face him “i’m ready”

CHARA the first time they see chara again is shortly after frisk takes him home when chara possesses frisk and stumbles out of bed in the middle of the night.

he catches them and theyre like “so at long last you caught on to me”

f: “get out of frisk’s body”

c: “what makes you think I’m not frisk?”

f: “they don’t talk like that. no one’s as bad at roleplaying as you are, chara.”

c*leaves frisk’s body*: “Why that tone, asriel? Are you not surprised to see me? I will admit, I did not think you would take this long to figure it out.”

f: “I had my suspicions the whole time but you were always pretty well hidden.”

c:”hm,,, that doesn’t sound right… oh… Oh! You let yourself forget!”

f:”What are you talking about? why are you possessing frisk’s body”

c:”Frisk never told you? Our sweet savior of monsterkind has been bad. they reset and reset and reset until they destroyed the entire world and I was happy to let them live in the void they created, the hard earned fruits of their labor, but they would not accept it. So they sold their soul to me in order to reset once again. They tried to fix all their mistakes and make the world as if they had never done any wrong. They have forgotten that their actions have consequences, so I am here to remind them.”

f: “chara- chara. Chara. They sold their SOUL to you?”

c: “yes they-”

f:”did they sign a contract for it?”

c:”A contract? What? No, of course not. I am a ghost, I don’t have paper-”

f:”then it’s not legally binding”

c: “what?” f:”it’s not legally binding! You can’t just take people’s souls, chara!”

c:” Yes I can! I can? And I did.”

f:”you’re being ridiculous! Give frisk their soul back and leave them alone!!”

c:”no! ugh… we will continue this later” and then they leave

--- c: frisk has taken to wearing special charms and making all kinds of wards to keep me away. I don’t think they trust me anymore f: i wonder why

--- f: frisk taught me that anyone can be a better person if they just try, so I’m trying. They want to try too! c: frisk also went about systematically murdering every last one of their friends immediately after that f: chara. ohmygod.

--- c: I’m not going to swear. it’s rude and unintelligent f: it’s more fun tho

Chara makes mention of things they and flowey did in past timelines that were so fun and he can’t remember them, it makes him feel left out

Frisk’s room is covered head to toe in objects and symbols that ward off ghosts and evil spirits. They wear crosses and gemstone rings, they have objects scattered around their room and steal spices from the kitchen that supposedly help, and a circle of salt around their bed. Chara comments later that a lot of the things are meant to keep evil spirits away and therefore don’t actually do anything to them. No one really knows what to say to that

Flowey to frisk after he discovers they were just using him: so i guess… we’re even? You were no better than me all along?

Frisk shrugs

“But um… i was using you because you loved me. So.. do you really…?”

Frisk frantically shakes their hands and waves their arms to tell him no, then scoops him up in a tight hug

Frisk laying in bed after a bad day

“Aw, is someone grumpy because they have too many friends?”

Frisk pushes his pot off the bed to crash down onto the floor while flowey snickers

Frisk has gotten in trouble for texting flowey during class so they have to put their phone away now

*insert some kind of normal convo. Then: frisk. Frisk reply. Reply. Reply. Reply. Reply. (cont.) all with very close together timestamps*

Frisk hours later: <3

*conversation continues as normal*

TO GET BODIES BACK

chara keeps possessing frisk and it drives flowey and frisk up a wall bc they can barely do anything about it other than by being constantly vigilant. theyre both exhausted and sick of it since charas spectral and doesnt run out of energy. and theyre so obnoxious. they go to alphys for help since she knows how to bond souls to things. she asks them why they dont like call an exorcist or something and flowey and frisk both hesitate before admitting they both love chara too much despite how shitty they are. alphys tells them that chara has to accept the body in order to bond to it, and everyone agrees it’s unlikely that they’ll go for anything unlike their actual human body. alphys says she may know something they can do, she just has to call a friend first. she gets on the phone with a mysterious human who they can’t hear on the other side. actually she might give her opener over text and then immediately get a phonecall in response. she opens by bringing up their interest in necromancy, says that she has a ghost, no not a monster ghost, a human ghost, then has to hold the phone back bc they’re screaming on the other side. she calms them down and starts asking about any ways they can think of making a body for someone. she might just tell the two to take off and give them a thumbs up, she’ll text them later. alphys finally gets back to them and tells them they might be able to build a type of hybrid human-monster body for chara, but they need their buried remains and powerful magic in order to do so, and it only makes sense that it be the magic of their parents used to resurrect them. she might sprinkle in that if this works, flowey might be able to get his asriel body back too. of course, nothing is possible if they can’t get chara to agree to all of it. and of course they don’t. their lack of body is punishment, appropriately earned. for them and flowey both. they can’t go back to their bodies just as they cannot undo the wrongs they have done. they cannot escape the consequences of their actions. it would be great if chara said “thats a funny trick to play on god!” flowey tells them that this isn’t some kind of fucked up divine punishment. what they did wasn’t so bad to warrant this. if anything, taking these forms has made them both WORSE. if it were supposed to be punishment they wouldn’t have these chances to get out. he was punishing himself for so long and it didn’t make any difference, but accepting everyone’s help and trying to do better with them DID help him. doesn’t chara want a body back? don’t they miss the ability to feel… anything? don’t they want to live the life they never got a chance to have? chara goes quiet for the first time in their life and undeath. then they agree to it. after that, the three of them go to asgore and toriel to finally break the news that their dead kids are still here. chara doesn’t show themselves, but the point still gets across. they agree to it wholeheartedly and without hesitation the next step is to prepare chara’s body. alphys has a small team of humans helping her out, or maybe just one very enthusiastic one. chara’s body is dug up and there are complements to how well preserved it is, this could be easier than anticipated. a mixture of science and magic is used to heal it and make its human processes function again. just before chara’s to go in frisk tells them that they can’t wait to finally hug them and they’re like “i take it back?? i can’t do this” once in their body chara’s just a clumsy weak little fuck and so very grouchy about having to feel things again.

When asriel gets his body back, the first thing he does is stomp out the old flower. Only frisk notices, it worries them. They try to ask him later but he gets offended like, “what you wanted me to keep it to remind me of my horrible life or something?! You think i need it in case something happens and i have to live in it again? I’d rather die!” the reality is that he thinks he’s cured and better and brand new now that he isnt a flower anymore, but that couldnt be farther from the truth. He’s now convinced hes perfect and can do no wrong which makes him do a lot of wrong

#ooc post

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