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something-pithy · 1 year ago

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Notes and an Update: Astarion, Tav, and Trauma in Stories

Pictured above: actual footage of trauma response from Astarion (j/k! kinda!) to catch your eye :D

Hey glittercats and cosmic kittens!

So I've definitely been neglecting the updates here, which I'm going to try to do better with.

We're up to Chapter 11 on this bad boy, and I've adjusted the anticipated chapter count to 30 (but honestly it's probably still all lies because I have absolutely no sense of how much writing each point on my outline ends up being loool).

I have a DOPE beta who's fucking amazing both in terms of conventions and idea partnership and I'm telling you right now, this story is so much better for having their hands and eyes on it.

SOME CONTENT WARNING STUFF RE: THIS CHAPTER:

Alcohol use disorder (AUD) and symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).

MORE DETAILS ON THIS -- SPOILERS AHEAD, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

So hopefully that's enough room for people who don't want to be spoiled to escape!

So I'm going to copy/paste the end note on the story, and expand on it a little bit.

So, although Tav is a "good drunk," as Frank Gallagher might put it, she is 1000% engaging in pretty serious substance abuse, or to be more specific in this chapter, alcohol use disorder. I'm not going to go into the way this story is going to approach mental and behavioral health disorders and trauma; hopefully it will speak for itself. Suffice it to say substance abuse and trauma are not the central subject of this story, but also, Astarion and Tav as they exist in this little pocket dimension of the BG3 universe have been impacted by the trauma they've each experienced both together and as individuals. In general, the impact of trauma can look and feel a lot of ways. Sometimes it's horrifying, sometimes it's heartbreaking, sometimes it's rage-inducing - but let's be honest, sometimes that shit is funny, too, because humor is such an incredible survival tactic / coping mechanism. Even if sometimes we're laughing at shit that shouldn't be funny. (Maybe especially then.) This story isn't going to be an after-school special or a PSA. It's a story about people, and sometimes people are fucked up (literally and figuratively). Anyway, I'll get off my soapbox now. If this has activated you, or you have earnest questions or concerns about what's going on in this story / with these characters, or you just want to shoot the shit, hit me up on my tumblr. There might be more notes there on this eventually, but for now, this chapter actually took a lot out of me and I'm still out here with these perpetual COVID symptoms, so... lol NOT TONIGHT. As always, thank y'all for reading, kudosing, and commenting.

OK, so I may have lied about the no notes part... but honestly, in re-reading that note, I think it kind of gets to the point.

But ALSO...

I've been a geek on the internet for a long, long time. I've engaged with different fan-based writing and roleplaying communities (tabletop, chat-based, forum-based, butt-based -- EVERYTHING) for pretty much the entire time.

"The Tragic Backstory" seems like it's been A Whole Thing since people started creating characters whether for roleplay or stories.

I think times have changed somewhat, but back in the day I ran in circles where a lot of thoughts about writing, creating characters, roleplay, etc. coexisted somewhat peacefully, but an old chestnut that consistently (maybe without fail) turned up in any conversation that involved Writers of Quality was a contingent of folks who had deep disdain for The Tragic Backstory.

I'm talkin' some deep, scathing, elitist shit, my beautiful people.

And I'm not gonna lie to you! This is approximately ten thousand years ago (no but seriously, decades), and honestly, I was up in those conversations, too, throwing around my disdain, assured by my fellow elitists that even though I frequently employed some form of Tragic Backstory, it was OK when I did it because it was good.

I mean in retrospect, it's kinda bullshit. There's always gonna somebody who's gonna think your shit's good, and there's also always gonna be somebody who thinks they're a Better Writer Than You who's gonna think your shit is... well, shit.

Not gonna lie, I still have very strong and particular preferences when it comes to the fic I read in general, and that includes backstory.

But over time, I got progressively less insecure (not just about my writing, but in general) and consequently less concerned with judging writing that's not my flavor as "bad" or "shitty" or "juvenile" (looool seriously, I was a dick) and more concerned with finding and creating writing that is my flavor.

However, and I don't think I'm going to apologize for it, some dickish tendencies linger in my soul. I'm going to try and frame these thoughts in terms of what compels me in a story I'm reading and what I do (or try to do) in my own writing.

This is a very long way of saying if something I say (or have already said) makes you feel like I'm coming for your neck, please know that I'm not.

My thoughts and/or opinions may cause you or someone you love to feel Some Type of Way. That is not my intention. I have no desire to:

Yuck anyone's yum

Contribute to or activate the crippling self-doubt that plagues almost every creative I've ever met

Be a dick.

Having said all that, I do have Thoughts on This Matter.

People write for a lot of reasons, but I'm fairly convinced that nobody's doing it with any level of purity. There are tons of incredible, beautiful, moving stories that feature a whole-ass Self-Insert, maybe even the dreaded Mary Sue.

(lol lookin' at you Dante's Inferno, Tyrion Lannister from A Song of Ice and Fire, and countless others lol)

People write to explore topics and themes that interest them, that compel them, that they see recurring in the world around them and/or their own lives.

One of those things is trauma.

In my writing, I approach trauma, disordered behaviors, dysfunction, dysregulated emotions, etc. (topics both of great interest to me and, not coincidentally, ones with which I have a great deal of personal experience) from a place of wanting fervently to tell the truth.

And I'm pretty good writing some things that feel true.

But I know that in some ways, I've shied away from harder truths; from using my writing and the characters I create not only as reflections of what I see in the world, but as accurate (rather than idealized) reflections of myself.

Because of this, while I've explored redemption arcs in roleplaying games (where being cheesy or facile or juvenile or fulfilling personal fantasies felt much safer than on a page), I've skirted neatly around it, I think, in my writing (for the most part). Because I absolutely was the girl who wanted to "save" or "fix" the wounded (and emotionally unavailable, and/or abusive, and/or toxic) lover. I wanted stories about it. I wanted to roll around in that narrative, bathe in it, eat it up for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

All while occupying the role/perspective of The Good One / The Good Girl whether in a game or in a story I was consuming.

But it's not the truth. Not the whole truth, at least. Not for me, anyway.

My admiration, respect, regard, and all the other good words for the writing and acting in Baldur's Gate 3 cannot be overstated. Each of the "origin" characters (and honestly, any character "Tav" has the opportunity to even have a conversation with, much less spend a significant amount of time with) is thoughtfully and truthfully written. I see this more in some than others, but that depth and breadth of understanding about human beings -- sorry, sentient beings -- shows up all over the place and honestly I almost can't stand how much I love it.

I'm not going to say that there's no character I feel this as deeply with as Astarion, but... idk, sometimes.

But there's no need to quantify this. Astarion is one of a number of characters from the game that I'm low-key obsessed with.

As such, when I decided to take on the story outcome in which, in my opinion, he throws all the growth, all the processing, all the truth and reconciliation I saw him moving toward in the game into a fucking woodchipper, I did not want it to be easy.

I get wanting it to be easy, and there are delicious, delicious fics out there that go this route. I think anybody who writes Ascendant Astarion at least flirts with it.

And it's not a binary; it's not either, "OMG this is completely uncomplicated, I love you I'm your spawn and it's just like if you hadn't ascended except your SUPER EXTRA POWERFUL AND SEXY AND HOT AND WHOOPS THERE GO MY PANTIES" (which, tbh... lool I'm not mad at) or "ASTARION IS IRREDEEMABLE LET ME WRITE OF HIS TRAGIC DEMISE AND TAV'S TRAGIC WITNESS TO IT / ENGINEERING OF IT." Which I'm ALSO not mad at, because THOSE THINGS CAN BE TRUE.

But while I'm subscribed to some stories that follow those paths or ones like them, and when I get that notification it's time to STOP THE PRESSES bc mama needs to READ, for me the challenge of this is if I'm going to continue Astarion and Tav's love story (or rekindle it lol), I want to honor the four years of intense character work Neil Newbon and Stephen Rooney and honestly the whole goddamn BG3 team from soup to nuts have done by considering "What would really happen here" as brutally as possible.

Komo, my incredible thought partner-cum-beta, can tell you about the pages of back and forth between us about "fml, how can we make this story work and maintain fidelity to the integrity* of these characters???? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY"

*not personal integrity -- meta shit. The integrity of their arcs, development, personalities, histories, traumas, etc.

SO. Back to trauma.

I said in my end note for chapter 11 that this story is not an after-school special (which looool probably at least some of you are like wtf are you talking about my dude and I'm like looooool omg life before kids were a whole target demographic unto themselves - kind of lol) or a PSA.

Which alludes to the fact that YES, I want to tell the truth about the ugliness of this relationship and the individuals in it with nuance and empathy and sensitivity; that I want to write about the pain and harm and longing and ache and all of it in ways that are neither hyperbolic nor diminishing.

But also, look, my darling motherfuckers, my comrades in fuckery, whoever's made it this far into this rambling monster of a -- whatever the fuck this is lool -- PEOPLE WHO HAVE TRAUMA ALSO HAVE FUN.

SOMETIMES EVEN WHEN THEY ARE ENGAGING IN BEHAVIORS THAT ARE DESTRUCTIVE TO THEMSELVES AND/OR OTHERS.

I don't think I've sufficiently unpacked this part to dig down much deeper into it, but what I will say is that this is not going to be a passion play about Poor Tav or Drugs Are Bad, Mmkay? or anything else.

What this is going to be (or at least, what I passionately want it to be) is -- framed with a delicious little fake-dating muffin of an emotional MacGuffin -- a portrait of some people in all (or lordt jebus please let me achieve at least MOST) of their complexity.

ALL OF IT.

Lordt Baby Jebus, Allah, Milal, Great Spaghetti Monster, ANYBODY

(not Lolth lol)

hear my prayer!

Aight, that's all I've got for today. <3

If you made it this far, PM me and tell me something you want to see in the story! I'll make you a treat.

And if it don't fit in the story, I might be able to make a li'l drabble happen.

COMING SOON to Writing Notes Storytime:

Identity in this story and in stories in general

The Good, the Bad, and the Neutral: Alignment and Astarion (and some other ppl, too!) in BG3, DnD, and This Story lol

Stuff I'm forgetting bc I'm STILL not over this never-ending COVID fuckery

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minhosimthings · 1 year ago

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Hold Me Without Hurting Me

Chapter 3: Wattles and Wills

A/N: In which an old friend fills your life with flowers again, along a bumpy sided road.

Pairings: Ceo!Jay × Ceo!fem!reader, includes rest of Enhypen and certain other groups

Warnings: angst-fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to enemies to fake dating to enemies to lovers, Mentions of food and alcohol, swearing, nothing much but it's a bumpy story.

Story prompt: If I had a flower for every time I fell in love with you, I would walk in my garden forever. (This story is based on the language of flowers.)

A/N: YAAS QUEEN MONA SLAY FOR WRITING ANOTHER CHAPTER WOOHOO. yes I know it's really short but I'm telling you I want this shit to move as slow as it can. And I ain't kidding. Like it's gonna be slower than me on the treadmill.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Life just feels hazy sometimes. And for different people, there are equally unique methods to get over it. Some smoke cigarettes to get over the pain and some sew and pierce their fingers in order to understand what pain is. Sometimes time just feels like it goes too fast. And unfortunately for you, it was doing just that, as you slept on your bed, still thinking that you were a sixteen year old girl in highschool working at the flower shop after school with a messy haired boy, arranging the prettiest bouquets for nervous husbands, and reassuring them about the meaning of each flower. And yet, life's gotta move on, and you had to pull yourself back to the reality that you were independent now, a girlboss as the Instagram people said, a woman in total control of her life, who ate quinoa and blueberries everyday and balanced every single aspect of her life properly. But as you stared at the carmellias in your room, you questioned whether that was all that was to life. Work, money and putting food on your own plate, being compassionate to other, helping other people constantly without ever thinking about yourself. Was that all your life ever was to be? To be an obsessive people pleaser and eventually reach the grim reaper that way?

"Jungwon-" you straightened your skirt and called to your assistant who immediately looked to you, "-remember what I told you. When Mr Park asks for private moments you shall immediately go, either with his assistant or on your own alright?" You patted his arm and sighed, "God knows if I'll survive this shit."

You made your way down to the hall, counting each of your steps as you conquered them. It never really occured to you how tiny the way from your room to the main hall was, until now, when you were about to meet the absolute bane of your existence. "Ma'am are you quite sure you're alright?" Jungwon's crystal voice rang through your ear. "Because If you are uncomfortable, it's alright with just cancelling." You shook your head at his suggestion, although you felt proud of him for saying that. "No Jungwon." You sighed, "It's always better to just get it over with isn't it?" You smiled in a pathetic attempt to calm yourself down, and spotted Jay sitting calmly on a red couch, immersed in staring at a vase filled with asters. "Ahem." You cleared your throat as you approached him, to which he looked up at you slowly and smirked. His eyes flicked towards Jungwon, who turned into a beetroot again and fumbled with his fingers. "Your assistant-" Jay leaned back against the couch, "-can go take a tour of the city along with mine." You sat on the chair opposite to him and raised your eyebrows. "And may I ask who your assistant is since I cannot trust mine with any random person." You tried to make your voice as steady as possible when In reality you were trying not to stare at Jay's arms in the tight green shirt he was wearing. "She's right there in the corner." He pointed towards a girl standing at the check in counter. She looked good enough, you thought. "Jungwon you can go." You said to Jungwon, who bowed to you and Jay and quickly scrambled off towards the girl, but not before giving you a look which clearly said 'try to survive through it."

“You really are a fucking asshole aren’t you?” you spat at Jay, who couldn't have looked more unbothered. “Yes, i believe that’s what’s on my resume.�� he shot back calmly. "And anyways we don't have time for that right now. What I want to know, is whether or not you've agreed to the thing I told you last night?" You rolled your eyes and crossed your legs, leaning back against the squishy maroon cushion. "Don't really have a choice do I?" You scoffed, "so just tell me what I need to do and we can et this shit over with."

Jay smirked up at you, and pulled out a blue file from his bag, handing it to you. "Take a look." You took the file with hesitation and opened it up to find a letter addressed to Jay. Not a buisness one, it was handwritten, with a handwriting you recognised. "Is this-" "My dad's handwriting? Yeah. Just read."

You rolled your eyes at his tone, and dropped your eyes to the letter. You recognised the format immediately. A make shift will. With the words "Love, dad" at the end alongside a beautiful signature. The writing was weird. The words were even weirder, with strange macabre singles halting each word, like a secret society's code.

"Jay I don't get it." You said, handing him the letter back, which he stuffed back into his bag. He sighed and stopped for a moment before starting. "So you know I inherited my dad's company right? I mean you wouldn't know that but still." You rolled your eyes again, keeping the words, 'i haven't known anything for eight years' to yourself. "My father was hellbent on getting me married. Of course-" he gave a short laugh, "Classic asian parents. So he made a deal at death, a way to force me to get married. According to his will, I was only to get two thirds of his company, the other part was to be left secret. And as the storyline goes, the other part is the most important one, containing all the secrets to old passwords and whatnot. Of course-" he smirked a bit, "-I've built the company up as much as I can, but I need those passwords direly and my dad's lawyer will only give it to me once I get married or show him that I have a significant other." "And I assume you want me to masquerade as your girlfriend so you can get your stupid passwords and then break up with me so we can lead our own different lives again?" You snorted, "Jay you should get your head checked out by a therapist because that is the most bat shit crazy plan I've ever heard." Jay chuckled softly. "Yeah knew you'd say that, but-" he leaned forward, "remember our little plan? With Lee Heeseung?" Your smile dropped at the mention of Heeseung's name and frowned. "Jay-" "Y/N do this one thing for me and I swear to God, I'll be out of your life forever." Jay looked at you with soft eyes, quite unlike those that he had been using with you. You looked outside the big stained windows of the hall and saw a big bush of golden wattle flowers. You had always admired the wattle plants, having being known for their dual meaning. When given in small quantities, they would mean stupid conditional love, but when given in huge 200$ bunches, they would mean marriage.

"I'll do it." You stared into Jay's eyes which spoke nothing but relief. "Great." He leaned back, spreading his legs a bit further. "Shall we go on our first date then?"

#park jay #jay #enhypen park jongsoeng #enhypen #enha #enha jay #enha jay fic #Enha jay fluff #Enha fluff #enha jay angst #enha jay hurt comfort #jay fic #enhypen fic #enhypen jay fic #enhypen jay fluff #enha angst #Enhypen jay #bye bye now

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daz4i · 1 year ago

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you guys are enabling me. this is my most self indulgent post. here i'm gonna explain every song choice in my dazai playlist. i think tumblr has a paragraph limit so for now, it's only the first 15 aka a third of the playlist, so i'll probably just add more parts later, 15 at a time

from the name "epic dazai kinnie moment" i hope it's clear enough that it's 100% my VERY personal interpretation of the character lol. and as i said in the desc it's also beast!dazai. anyway

(also obviously tw for anything that goes with dazai aka suicide death depression yknow)

dazai's character song:

it's dazai's character song

hand me my shovel, i'm going in!:

it's a song about a guy who hits rock bottom and starts digging, as if trying to get worse. and while dazai's def in his recovery era he's still trying to kill himself so much. and since the q incident he's sort of reverted to his old self, even if not fully. so i'm counting that

also the repetition of "gotta get to the bottom of this", usually referring to figure out some case for example, can be about him trying to figure out both himself and the situation he's in (my favorite part, esp in his context, is "Gotta get to the bottom of this / If it kills me"

a lot of references to alcohol and alcoholism in that song, and i don't think i need to explain dazai's alcohol issue lmao

and a sentence you're gonna read a lot in this post: upbeat and fun song abt a depressing subject matter is so so dazaicore

achilles come down:

i mean the whole premise is achilles on a roof preparing to kill himself

"You're scaring us and all of us, some of us love you / Achilles, it's not much but there's proof" ada........

"I witness that a lot of people are dying because they consider that life is not worth living. Paradoxically, I witness other people who are being killed for their ideas, their illusions, which give their existence a sense. What we call a reason to live is also an excellent reason to die." <- the french speaking part. do i need to explain why this is dazaicore

"Today, of all days, see / How the most dangerous thing is to love" dazai believes anything good will be taken from him. and yeah once he got close to someone - odasaku - he died. so. loving him was indeed dangerous

"Achilles, Achilles, Achilles, jump now / You are absent of cause or excuse" "It is empty, Achilles, so end it all now" again. do i need to explain why this is dazaicore

"You may feel no purpose nor a point for existing / It's all just conjecture and gloom / And there may not be meaning, so find one and seize it / Do not waste yourself on this roof" "Feel your breath course frankly below / And see life as a worthy opponent" this is soooooo odasaku's last words to dazai. to me

the whole part of two voices talking to each other (not gonna copy the whole thing lol), imo, are two sides inside dazai - his instinct of self hatred and suicide, vs his wish to recover. also specifically the "so much more than a rat" line also fits his difference from fyodor that imo is also rooted in his recovery

good luck, clown:

so. to preface. i am basing a loooot of my view of dazai on yozo from nlh. and he quite literally calls what he does "clowning" - putting on a smile and making others laugh so they don't see how empty he is on the inside. btw this is what i mean every time i call dazai a clown hehe

this song is in part about being fake and putting on a show for others:

"I don’t mean to pretend, but I’ve started to be nice on the outside. That’s the fake me / Temporarily pretending to clown around, and writhing before you know it / Wandering into a maze of extremes before figuring out the goal" "Dancing with a forced positivity, I’m Breaking down" "I’m called a clown now, forced grins make me feel ridiculous / Twisted as usual, so I start Breaking down"

27:

"If home is where the heart is, then we're all just fucked" first off. imo. this must be how he felt during his mafia days

"My mind is a safe / And if I keep it, then we all get rich" once again. do i need to explain-

"My body is an orphanage / We take everyone in" he's a whore. to me

"Are all the good times getting gone? / They come, and go, and go, and come, and go" ok lemme explain it that way. if i had to make an animatic with this song. i'd put 2 shots of lupin bar. one of the whole trio and one of dazai alone. and cut between them with every "come" and "go"

against the kitchen floor:

the whole song is about recovery, not feeling human, and saying sorry. i doubt i need to explain the first two, but you might ask, who is he saying sorry to? and my answer is, eh. everyone? (it mostly feels like a mix of odasaku and chuuya to me, depending on the verse) idk man. anyway

i'm not gonna add every single line that's essentially "i'm not that great or special i'm kind of awful" in its vibe bc i mean. yeah

"I swear I'm really trying / I'm sorry, I promise, I'm doing my best / I just haven't learned how to be human as you are yet" is sooooo dazai at the agency. to me

"I've lived more lives than enough, I haven't died quite as much / But I'm not a real person, just the shit you can't make up" i bet you're tired of reading me saying do i need to explain. but. do i-

"I'm just as exposed if I take off my clothes" bandages. to me

"Did I really / Have any of that gravity? Maybe you're quicksand" once again using the animatic explanation. chuuya drinking after dazai left

"I'm down pounding my head against the kitchen floor / Apologizing for my life and ever entering yours" imo. at least at first. dazai at least partially blamed himself for oda's death. in a "if only i got there quicker" way. so. regretting ever becoming a part of oda's life, bc maybe if odasaku wasn't involved with him he'd be off mori's radar, wouldn't get involved with mimic, and thus could live longer

"I swear I will die trying / I'm still in the process but I'm making progress / I promise I honestly want to prove improvement's possible / I swear I'm so fucking sorry / I'm not a good person, I'm barely a person at all, but / Someday I'll be perfect and I'll make up for it all" just. this entire last chorus. recovery babeyyyyy

something's gotta give (lol this came up on my shuffle of another playlist just as i started typing this section):

this whole song's about being a human disaster 👍

"I don't even know myself / I wish I could be someone else / But I don't have a clue at all" well.

"Pull me out / Of this sinking town / I'm dying to live / Something's gotta give" oda did indeed pull him out of the mafia. and in a way, gave him a reason to live, which i think i already made enough analysis posts abt why dazai actually does want to live, even if he won't admit it even to himself

"Maybe I'm a fucking waste / Filling up the empty space / I've been here way too long" well.

and another upbeat and fun song with depressing lyrics!

i am not a robot:

oh my god ok ok this one's actually making me insane in his context. bc. so much of his character and arc, imo, hinges on the idea that he's actually human, even if he has a hard time believing that. he is not some machine that thinks fast and solves problems, he is not a monster who just wants to kill, he's just a very flawed human. so

"It's okay to say you've got a weak spot / You don't always have to be on top" "You're vulnerable, you're vulnerable / You are not a robot" both lines fit this idea

"Better to be hated than loved, loved, loved for what you're not" this connects to the clowning thing i mentioned! constantly hiding his true self, he would never feel truly loved

ok now back to the animatic explanations:

"You've been hanging with the unloved kids / Who you never really liked and you never trusted" mafia days. dazai in an executive meeting

"But you are so magnetic, you pick up all the pins" him conspiring with mori, or alternatively in lupin with oda and ango who are both outsiders in the mafia

"Never committing to anything / You don't pick up the phone when it ring-ring-rings" dazai in the agency dorms, ignoring calls from the team, drinking or just lazing in bed

"Don't be so pathetic, just open up and sing" atsushi grabbing him and showing him he's still loved the way he is

"Can you teach me how to feel real? / Can you turn my power off?" odasaku's last moments. well. you know.

machine:

immediately contradicting the last point lol. but imo this one is about 1 how he sees himself 2 more beast dazai coded tbh

i actually don't wanna explain that one. go read the lyrics/listen to the song and think abt beast dazai and i think you'll get it

beneath the mask:

epic kinnie crossover

again, connecting to the clowning, a song about hiding your true self

"Hiding both face and mind, All free for you to draw / I'm a shape shifter, What else should I be? / Please don't take off my mask, Revealing dark" "A mirror right in front of me / That's where I find / An empty glass / Reflecting the sad truth / It's telling words not to be told / I need the mask" "Just a cage of bones / There's nothing inside" well. yeah. nothing behind the mask, bc he's empty, or at least feels empty, and like there's no real person there

"Is there a way for me to break?" a bit of hope, at least. i do think dazai wants to remove that mask at some point, but is just scared.

dead!:

"Have you heard the news that you're dead? / No one ever had much nice to say / I think they never liked you anyway" i think! this is how dazai sees himself! and why he wants to kill himself, esp how he says he doesn't want to harm anyone with his suicide, bc he has a hard time believing his lovable (and, in a way, he's sometimes even being a nuisance to others to make sure of his own truth, but that's a whole character analysis for later lol)

honestly that's just the whole song. how he sees himself and why he thinks he should die. imo. no point in copying the whole thing just go read it 👍

also another happy and upbeat sounding song about a very dark subject matter! very dazaicore!

half-decade hangover:

"Wonder how I didn’t die / This is not my life, I’m no survivor, I only happened to survive" HOOOO BOY this is like one of my favorite lines from any song ever. and i think after surviving multiple suicide attempts it's a very easy sentiment to have. people are so proud of you for making it this far, but this was very much against your will. and yeah i don't need to explain why this is dazaicore i think

"What have I done? Don't know what I've said / It’s a half-decade hangover, either this, in jail, or dead" as you can guess a lot of this song is abt alcoholism and recovery, both topics which are very relevant to dazai. "either this (recovery), in jail, or dead" is so literally his situation, he even got in jail eventually lol. and it's bc of his past, which is what this is referring to! this is the half-decade hangover! your past catching up to you and having to cope with it now!

"Lender knows I’ve tried to make it right / Give back my life, and if not / Take it, 'cause lately I been thinking maybe I could / Take it or leave it, if I can’t at least break even, then I’m leaving" he's trying to give back, doing good, helping others, and yet through this he's still suicidal

"Please believe me when I say that I’ve poured my whole past down the drain / Say that a second chance is a chance I can take" well. i mean. yeah. very literal stuff here

w.a.m.s.:

"I'm a young one stuck in the thoughts of an / Old one's head" well this one's straightforward i think. being young but being ~an old soul~. with the way dazai was treated like an adult at 14-15 already, yeah i'd say this is fitting

"My head's in heaven, my soles are in hell" can really fit if you read the agency as heaven and the mafia as hell, in a way. or alternatively, head thinking about death, but firmly standing in real life, which to a suicidal person can very much feel like hell

"I'm going to leave you, I'm going to teach you / How we're all alone" i know this isn't the case in canon but i like angst revolving around dazai leaving chuuya specifically <3 so yeah

living is a problem because everything dies:

*cracks knuckles* ok if you read the tags of the original post you'll know this is a big one

imo. this is very much a song that can connect to dazai feeling like he'll lose anything good in his life. but especially oda's death

i mean the name alone is already such a "everything i love dies so what's the point of living".

"I fear God because everything dies babe" one day i'll write a whole essay abt how dazai is motivated by fear. one day

"Well I’ve met God and he had nothing to say to me" this one's isn't direct but like. feels very relevant as a suicidal person. and esp in bsd where there's a lot of talk abt god. yeah

"I pray to God that you’re right before my eyes / Bathed in white light with halos in your eyes" connection to odasaku and missing him

"Everywhere I look someone dies / Wonder when it’s my turn" do i need to explain. do i

"I built a time machine to escape from / All the pain in the back of my car" dazai working overtime to prevent and escape and avoid pain (not physical, but mental)

also it has some little lines that imo fit dazai's vibe but i won't add to this post, i recommend listening to it (it's a very good song, very dramatic) or at least reading the lyrics yourself

valley of the dolls:

like beneath the mask, it's a song about faking your personality to hide how empty you feel

"Got a hole inside of me / Born with a void, hard to destroy with love or hope / Built with a heart, broken from the start" where's asagiri's donut comment. hey.

"Living with identities / That do not belong to me" "Pick a personality for free / When you feel like nobody" to me. dazai has some issues with identity in general. sort of feeling like every mask you put on is not quite right, definitely not the real you, in part due to your emptiness. he's not the ruthless mafia executive but he's not the righteous detective who saves people, even if it may seem like that to those around him. he's just a void

"In my life, I got this far / Now I’m ready for the last hoorah / Dying like a shooting star" HEY REMEMBER THAT ONE SCENE FROM WAN-

fr tho, being tired with life, wanting things to end, basic dazai stuff.

"Back to zero, here we go / I can feel it coming to the end" that flip i mentioned earlier, back to his older self, in a way this is like undoing his recovery so far - going back to zero. and now that there's a real death scare in his story (lbr he won't die. but he doesn't know that!), it's at least coming to an end

ok that's the first 15. i'm gonna stop here to avoid tumblr's limit and also bc i kinda wanna post it to see if anyone'll read. if you do i love you so so much. mwah

every time i listen to my skk or dazai playlists I'm like "I'm a fucking genius I'm the only one who understands them i have the best taste ever" and ngl guys, it's never that serious.

#dan rambles #a very long boy.#if anyone's interested i will make a part 2 🫡#i might also just do it like. for fun

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that-sarcastic-writer · 3 years ago

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Coach (1)

Fandom: Dylan O'Brien

Pairing: AU Dylan x Fem!Reader

Mini series summary: Being a newly single mom of two kids wasn't exactly easy. And love wasn't exactly part of your agenda. So, should you avoid lusting over your son's baseball coach? Absolutely. But with a man like Dylan, could you really resist? Probably not.

Warnings: nothing major yet, small sexual innuendo, mentions of cheating and divorce

WC: 1.9k

A/N: a yes, to those who have been following me for a while may recognize this title, it's my old Dylan AU fic. Yes I decided to continue it. Updates will come periodically, because I write spontaneously and I cant guarantee quick updates. But I do promise I wont wait a whole year to update. And since I did some slight updates in the first 2 parts I decided to archive the old ones and repost them again. So yeah, if you've read them before great, give it another read, my writing is much better now I promise and if you're new welcome, I hope you like this mini series.

(You are here, part 2, part 3)

Dylan stood by the side of the large field, near the home plate, occasionally yelling out suggestions and pointing out mistakes to the young boys.

"Ezra! You have to watch the ball! C'mon! I know you can do better!" He called out to the blonde boy standing on the home plate with a bat in hand. Dylan then turned his attention to the dark haired boy with the baseball mitt and ball in hand.

"Roman! What's going on, buddy? You gotta focus, alright? You gotta work on that throw!" Dylan called out to the young boy, who half nodded and sighed heavily in response.

Not long after, Dylan signaled the young boys scattered throughout the large field to gather around. He spoke some encouraging words to the boys before allowing them to disperse and gather their equipment which meant practice was over.

Your son, however, stayed behind for a minute. There was an inaudible conversation happening between Dylan and your ten year-old, Roman. You watched from the bleachers as your son made some tired gestures at his coach followed by a small pat on the back from Dylan. You couldn't help but follow them with your eyes as they made their way to the bleachers, your eyes lingering a bit too long on the brown haired coach. An action that wasn't taken lightly by the female sitting beside you.

"You're staring at him again." Your best friend, Ezra's mother, Eliza -or just Liz, commented.

"I'm not." You muttered out quickly, tearing your eyes away from the handsome coach, your mouth hanging open for a couple of seconds. "I wasn't staring." You stated matter of factly and shrugged as you looked down at the small six year-old sitting on your lap, making sure she wasn't paying attention to the conversation.

"Really? The drool coming from your mouth says otherwise." Liz playfully ran her finger across your chin, pretending to wipe away at it. You slightly glared at her, an eye roll going her way.

"I'm not drooling. I wasn't even staring." You tried to defend yourself, making a small sassy gesture to her.

"Hey, I don't blame you. If I wasn't married," she took a pause as she eyed Dylan as he removed his baseball hat to run a hand through his messy chocolate locks, you couldn't help but stare as well. "I'd jump on his bones any day."

"Hey, there's young ears present." You said quietly to Liz as not to disturb the young girl in your arms.

Despite your attempt not to, you couldn't help but allow your eyes to fall once again on the field, following the handsome male that was the topic of your conversation. You had to hide the infatuated sigh that left your lips at the sight of your son's coach running around the field, talking to the kids and picking up equipment.

"Well he is handsome, I'll give him that.." You admitted quietly, "and he's really good with the kids."

Your friend smirked slightly at your words and wiggled her eyebrows at you.

"I bet that's not the only thing he's really good at." She eyed you suggestively and slightly nudged at you with her shoulder, "You should find out what other things he's good at."

Your mouth instantly fell open and your eyes widened at the insinuation.

"Eliza! Oh, my god. Don't say that." You slightly shook your head to brush off the embarrassment and hid your face on your hands to cover the crimson on your skin.

"Mommy you're warm!" Athena, your six year-old giggled as she grabbed your warm, sweaty hands. Even your daughter noticed the nervousness that crept up on you when it came to Dylan, even if it was just the topic of him. Truth was, you had been shamelessly crushing on your son's baseball coach ever since he joined the team a couple of months ago.

Get it together, you should not be crushing on your son's baseball coach.

"I know baby, it's just hot out here." You tried to brush it off, but the knowing smirk on Liz's face wasn't exactly helping. "Thena, why don't you go get Roman and Ezra? They're over there." You pointed to the field where Roman and Ezra were talking —or more like just Ezra was, to the other kids on the team. She quickly nodded and bolted off the bleachers, somehow not tripping over the steps as she went down. You sighed heavily the moment the young girl was far enough and slightly turned your head in Liz's direction.

"You should totally ask him out." She said out of nowhere with a shrug and a smirk on her face. Your eyes widened for the hundredth time, and you instantly shook your head frantically, the idea alone giving you a headache.

"Ask Dylan out? No way. I.. No.. That's just.. No." Your cheeks slightly heat up at the preposition. But you quickly turned it down with a vigorous shake of your head, not even giving the idea a minute to sink into your brain. "No, he's Roman's coach. It's just wrong."

"Why? I mean, you're single, and as far as I know, he's very single. Soo," she dragged the 'o' as she wiggled her eyebrows and she nudged your shoulder, pushing you over a little in a high school girl manner, "Why not get ready to mingle with the hot coach?"

"First of all, I'm technically not single, not yet." You groaned with an eyeroll. As much as you and your husband —or ex-husband or whatever were no longer living together, the divorce process had been unnecessarily long and dreadful. So as much as you wanted to be legally single, you were still married to that piece of shit.

"And second of all, if I were to date someone, which is a big if, I can't date Roman's coach out of all people. He already has enough as it is. It'll just confuse him and probably upset him more." You sighed heavily as you looked over to the side of the field, where all the boys were having a conversation about elementary boys' things. And there you saw your son, trying, and ultimately failing at joining said conversations. And with little Athena tugging at his side, all he got from the other kids was laughing and rejection.

Seeing your son's sad and hurt expression when the other boys laughed at him or even told him to go away broke your heart. You wanted him to be happy again. You wanted him to be the energetic and loving kid he was before your waste of a husband left. Ever since Ryan —your waste of a husband left, Roman hasn't been the same.

For the past six or so months, he has been distant and seemingly unhappy. All he ever did was lock himself up in his room and play video games. He barely ever interacted with you and Athena anymore. He barely interacted with anyone, period. Once Ryan left, it was up to you to support your kids financially. Of course, their father still paid child support, but he sure as hell didn't pay your bills or everything you needed to spend on your children. Which meant you had to take him out of the fancy school he went to in order to still pay the monthly expenses of your home. And he just didn't quite fit in at school, especially now.

So, you hoped that him joining the baseball team would change that, that it would help him open up again and that it would help him make new friends. But so far, it's worked just the opposite.

"So, I'm making dinner tonight. Do you want to come over with the kids and get drunk? Luke will watch over the kids." Liz spoke, interrupting your train of thought.

"That sounds a-mazing," you spoke in a song-like tune, a sigh of contentment leaving your lips. "But I can't. I told Roman I'd take him to that Italian place he likes."

"Tomorrow then. I'll have that Chardonnay you love so much waiting for you." She winked at you as you both stood up, ready to greet your children.

"Thank God for your alcohol stash." You joked, flinging your arms up in praise.

You both laughed and smiled in your children's direction, but your smile dropped as your kids and Ezra approached you. Ezra was holding Athena's hand, while Roman walked behind them, with a certain heaviness on his step and an annoyed look on his face. And Athena had a small pout on her face.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Rome doesn't want to hold my hand!" Athena whined with a pout of her lower lip. She released Ezra's hand and exchanged it for your own. Ezra going to his own mom. While Roman simply stood there, with a hand stuffed into his pockets and the other messing with the strap of his bag, his gaze stuck on the ground.

"Roman, baby," you sighed softly, not wanting to give the poor kid a hard time. You understood he didn't exactly fit in, no matter how much he wanted to, and that upset him. You didn't want to add up to that. "Your sister just wanted you to hold her hand."

"She was embarrassing me.. I'm already the kid without a dad, I don't need to be the kid with an annoying baby sister." He muttered, his gaze not once leaving the ground.

His words were harsh, but lacked emotion. And it broke your heart. But as much as you wanted to tell him that it wasn't true, that he did have a dad, you'd be lying if you did. Ryan was already absent in your children's lives before the split, but at the same time he was there, and Roman felt as if he was. But now, his father really wasn't there, at all. And there was nothing you could do about it.

You sighed softly, gesturing your free hand out for him, "Roman, come here," a heavy sigh left the young boy's lips as he took a few steps closer, standing in front of you with his head hanging low and his eyes stuck to the ground. You used your hand to hold the side of his face, his eyes meeting with your own. "Baby, Thena just wanted to show you that she loves you. She didn't mean to embarrass you, right Thena?" You turned your attention to the small girl that hid behind your arm, her eyes glistening with tears.

The small girl sniffled and shook her head, "No.. I'm sorry Rome.. I won't do it ever again, I-I promise."

You exchanged looks between your children, your eyes finally landing on Roman as you waited for a response. You raised an eyebrow at him, your eyes speaking a silent 'and' to the boy. He eventually signed, almost too heavily, and nodded.

"It's okay, I guess.. I don't really mind all that much." He half smiled, shrugging slightly.

Athena's expression quickly lightened, the small girl detached herself from your hand and hugged her older brother. And as much as he hated to admit it, he didn't mind the affection. He returned the hug and smiled, for a moment at least.

After a second or two, Roman slightly pushed Athena off him, signaling that that had been enough affection for a day. You breathed out softly, turning to look at Liz, who gave you a sympathetic smile in response.

"Well my loves, off we go. Say goodbye to Auntie Liz and Ezra." Both your children did as you said. Athena hugging both of them, and Roman simply waving at them. Good enough.

And at last, you gave Liz a quick but tight hug, "I'll call you tomorrow." You said shortly before you grabbed a hold of your daughter's hand and your son's bag, and eventually parted ways.

Today was gonna be a long day.

《Here's an edited version of part 1. As always I hope y'all enjoyed it. I'm trying to get back into writing after a long year, hopefully this will help me get back on track. Let me know your thoughts. And let me know if you'd like to be added to my dylan/coach taglist which I do have》

#dylanobrien #dylan o brien #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien smut #dylan obrien fanfic #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien series #coach #coach series

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amoristt · 3 years ago

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Just a Dare | Nathan Prescott x Reader

@trueloveknifefight asked, Also can I request Nathan asking you out?

here u are! i love writing convos w nathan UGH i adore his character.

as always, replies and reblogs are greatly appreciated1 i check all tags and comments <3

wanna support me for just $3? here's my ko-fi!

The lights were bright, vivid. Almost blinding. They dance LED accents into the reflection of your drink- a dull plastic cup filled to the brim with one part whiskey, zero parts mixer. The taste could bring a tear to your eye but you would be damned to water down such fine alcohol, provided by none other than Nathan Prescott himself.

Music reverberated along the pool rooms walls, laughter and hollers distantly rising with the tempos. Your foot absently tapped to the beat- you were never one for dancing. Never one for parties, either, actually, favoring drinking in the solitude of a small friend group.

If not for Nathan you wouldn't be here at all. Some would say it's a privilege to slip past those heavy doors, entering the dully lit world of the Vortex Club. You mostly just felt like it was all for show. Somehow securing a place among Nathan's friend group, and a good friend at that, it was almost duty to show up. He insisted on it.

So, here you were. Leaning against a wall in a suffocatingly warm, cramped pool room surrounded by a sea of faces you hardly recognized.

That was, until you saw Nathan's face peer through the small break in shifting bodies. You knew him all too well.

Strikingly handsome, equally strikingly pompous. Funny, crude, an absent minded party goer just as much as he was a fireball with racing, incoherent thoughts. A drinker, a druggie. Takes the edge off, he says, but you think he does it to take away his thoughts completely. You felt like his entire life was all edges, never sacred ground.

The poor bastard.

He lures your attention in as he saunters over with squared shoulders, narrowly avoiding spilling his drink when a random student cuts it a little too close. Normally Nathan would make a bigger deal, give him what for, but this time he just shoots the poor kid a menacing glare and grumbles, 'fucking watch it'. He's walking with purpose and intent, you can see it on his face. You must have a target on your forehead as he darts straight over.

When he comes to your side, his own alcohol dripping down the sides of his cup onto his wiry fingers, you raise a brow.

"Something wrong?" You ask, as he takes a spot leaning against the hard wall right next to you.

"Just wondering why you're being so fucking lame over here," He shouts over the music, taking a sip of his drink, grimacing at the taste. "We're all having a good time over at the lounge and you're over here acting like all the other wallflower nobodies."

You roll your eyes with upturning lips. "Maybe I like being a wallflower. I like people watching. I see things no one else does."

"Yeah, okay, fucking weirdo."

"I mean it," You push off the wall and grin. "Look-" You point to a student obviously wasted, drink held high over head while he lets the music take him away. "That guy is clearly trashed- he's having the time of his life. He's gotta be seeing double."

Nathan whistles at his state, taking in the guys goofy smile, half lidded eyes. "I'll bet it's the triplets. I could breathe on him too hard and he'd fall over."

"You should go try it." You tease. He shakes his head and takes another drink.

"Nah, he'll get it himself. Guarantee we'll be dragging him out by his feet by the end of the night." He shrugs. "Or, at least someone will. I sure as fuck ain't staying that long."

You snicker. "What, got a hot date?" Nathan glares at you. "Oh don't tell me," you cup your hands to whisper, a secretive gesture, "homework?"

"Fuck no," He scoffs, and you can just barely see that he's a little more than tipsy now. His pale cheeks dusted with red, the tip of his nose ruby under the harsh lighting. It's also then that you realize he's a little more tense than usual, even despite the drinking. He's standing straight upright, his right hand gripping his cup like a crutch and his left now shoved hastily into his pocket.

He hasn't looked at you dead in the eyes yet.

"So what is it then?" You ask curiously. He shrugs and stares into his cup. You frown. "Bro, are you like, good right now? Do you wanna leave?"

For the first time since he'd wandered over, Nathan looks up at you. His eyes are unreadable, but his composure seems stressed. He shrugs again. Before you can even open your mouth to ask him about his state, he sighs and downs an entire mouthful of burning whiskey. It makes you cringe just watching him.

"Fuck it," He huffs. "Look I got some stupid ass dare to come over here and put the moves on you, okay." He sounds almost annoyed, like it's a hassle for him, or maybe embarrassing. You cross your arms. "I was dared to come over here and try to get you like, to fucking, you know, leave with me, but now that I'm over here I'm starting to think maybe that was a dumbass idea."

"Leave with you?" You say incredulously, a brow already lifting. "You were dared to come over here and try to sleep with me? By our friends?"

"No, no, fuck," Nathan seems agitated now, rushing. "Like a date sorta bullshit. Ask you out." He manages to get it out in almost the worst delivery possible, meanwhile you're just trying to pick out who would put him up to this. Hayden? Victoria?

A laugh forces its way out of you. "Aren't we a little too old for that game?"

Nathan shrugs. "That's what I said but they insisted. Fucking babies. At least make the dare a little more fun than just asking some bitch out. That's like elementary level shit."

Your eyes widen, you scoff. "Excuse me?"

Nathan sputters. "You're not some bitch, I didn't mean to-... Fucks sake, I'm clearly a little drunk right now okay, if you could cut me some fucking slack that'd be awesome."

"Hey man I didn't ask to be a victim of bullying," You tease, and he can't help but laugh. You soften. "Never expected it from you, though of all people. As ironic as that sounds."

"I'm not even bullying you, come on. Don't be a bitch. I even admitted it and everything."

You grin. "Yeah. Gotta say though, I'm a little disappointed."

"Oh what, you wanted to see my moves?" Nathan hums. "You wanted some Prescott action?"

"Shut the hell up." You shove his shoulder, an action that would be a mistake to so many others, but for you, it was welcomed. "I'm disappointed that it was just a dare. I'd probably have said yes if it wasn't. But, oh well."

Nathan doesn't answer for a long moment. First, he stares into his drink, processing. Almost like he hadn't heard that right, or like you were messing with him. It's rare to see Nathan Prescott stunned into a momentary silence. He's thinking, wondering what he should say next. Suspicious that you're just playing with him, hopeful that maybe you aren't.

And, you hadn't been. Truth be told if given the chance you would allow him to take you out for the evening. Show you fancy things, try out something a little more intimate than just laughter and poking fun at classmates together. You enjoyed his presence, looked forward to it at times.

A small part of you had hoped that he felt the same, maybe. Somehow. While grateful that he respected you enough to cut the crap before it even began, you couldn't help but feel a little... Disheartened at the prank. You'd saved your pride by denying him beforehand, but, if it had been genuine...

"So if it wasn't a dare," He began, quietly, barely audible over the booming music overhead. Eyes barely visible in the sea of vibrant lights crashing like waves. "You'd have said yes."

You shrug, trying to play it casual to save your own feelings, just in case. "Probably. I mean, we're already friends. We have fun so it couldn't have been that bad." He nods along to almost every word.

"Well what if we did it anyways." He blurts.

"Did what?"

"Go out tonight. Like, you know ditch this lame ass party and have some real fun."

"You love this lame ass party, and plus," You shake your head in feigned annoyance. "I'm not sleeping with you, Nathan."

He glares at you. "Fucking duh. I'm just saying we can go and hang out somewhere else. This party happens all the fucking time so it's not like we're missing anything."

"But, wouldn't that make me the butt of our friends joke?"

He shrugs. "Fuck em. It was a dumb dare anyways."

"Now it seems like you're trying extra hard to convince me to say yes." You state, and he's frazzled, running lines through his brain to try and save the absolute failure of asking you out. You decide to spare him, take a little leap of faith for yourself. "But, alright. I'm in."

Nathan gapes at you. "You're in?"

"Yeah, why not. I'm not busy right now and if you're not either than," You smile. "Why not. You better wow me though, Prescott. I'm talking a night to remember. Fireworks, dinner by candle light, a serenade. The whole package."

Nathan's eyes light up, but he tries to hide it, rolls those beautiful blues. "Well considering I've had like no fucking time to prepare how about we instead go to the roof and chill out."

You toss the idea around in your head for show. You already knew the answer the moment he asked if you were being serious.

"I mean I guess that would work," You say. "I was looking for fireworks but I suppose that will suffice. Feel free to go tell our buddies their joke may have backfired on them."

Nathan shakes his head. "Nah, don't even bother. They're all drunk and probably don't even remember daring me in the first place."

"Alright then," You push yourself off the wall, feeling your cheeks warm. A flutter takes wing in the base of your chest, your heart picking up just a little faster. You can't stop the smile that graces you as you say, "Lead the way, Prescott."

Nathan does lead the way. He takes your hand into his own, your fingers tracing over his boney knuckles as he drags you through the sea of bodies, out to the school hall and up winding stairs.

You giggle like a child when he struggles to find the correct key on the janitors ring he'd snatched weeks ago just in case, tease him when he almost spills his drink all over himself. Nathan's hands are almost shaking, but you chalk it up to the alcohol. You chalk everything up to the alcohol- his trembling fingers, his red face, a shy, albeit goofy smile resting upon his lovely, angular face.

The night was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the smoldering heat of the Vortex Party.

He looks amazing out under the stars, and underneath the scope of the vast, black sky dotted with trillions of perfect, twinkling lights, you feel at peace.

Looking at him, you feel like this may be the start of something you'd denied yourself the chance of ever even imagining.

Out there, alone but together, hearing the echoes of music mixed with the livelihood of crickets in the darkness...

it truly was a night to remember.

-----------

Days later, you sit atop your desk, feet tapping rhythmically on your chair, typing away at your phone.

"Love the top," A familiar voice pipes, and you glace up to find Victoria standing before you, books pressed to her chest. She takes in your shirt, a nicely fitted long sleeve with a rather low cut v-neck. "Why haven't I see that one before?"

You shrug and set your phone down. "Never got around to wearing it I guess. Not a big fan of V-necks."

"It fits you," She sets her books down at the table beside you and brushes a hand through her hair, making sure every strand is in line. "I'll have to get one myself."

"You know what, you can have it after today," You say, and she perks up in disbelief. "As a thank you for what happened at the party."

That disbelief soon turned to confusion. "...Meaning?"

"Y'know, making Nathan ask me out. He made a whole huge deal about it- said you guys were drinking and playing Truth or Dare of all things. Gotta say, I was a little surprised."

Victoria's brows knit. "We hardly drank at that party, and I wouldn't be caught dead playing Truth or Dare. That game is for kids."

It almost knocks the wind out of you.

They hadn't even been playing in the first place.

As the teacher walks into the room, the first period bell blaring annoyingly over the speakers, you climb off your desk and prepare for the day, hardly able to contain yourself. It hadn't been a dare, after all.

And, you and Nathan's official second date was merely a day away.

#nathan prescott #life is strange #imagine #lis

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in-superbloom · 3 years ago

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did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? (a.i.)

right where you left me: prologue

pairing: ashton irwin x olivia jones (oc)

warnings: uhh a kinda grieving theme i guess? but no deaths. it has a sad tone overall, but nothing major (in this chapter hehe). foul language because i can't help myself. the tiniest mention of alcohol, but as a memory. think i should probably warn you that this contains a very sad ash. also not much dialogues. this is mainly for explanation and introduction, but very important for the story. if you find anything else that might be triggering, please let me know so i can add it here !!

author's note: oof okay. so. this is the prologue of a series very very dear to my heart that i've been working on for what it feels like my whole life but really it's been just a few months. but i'm in love with the story (which rarely happens with my own writing) so i hope you can enjoy it too !! this is also my very first time posting a fic since 2013 so pls keep that in mind <3 no i am not shaking as type this ofc not also: although i have the full story ready in my head, this is the only chapter that's written. i wanted to wait until i had at least a few ready before posting this but i'm too anxious for that lmao just saying this bc it will take a good while until i have any more chapters, so <3 (p.s.: i went over this thing a million times since may so if you find any errors pls look away, i'm not fixing this thing anymore. thanks <3)

another note: anna from the future here to say that i completely forgot about the playlist i made for the story lmao here it is in case you're interested k thanks bye <3

credits: title is from taylor swift's song right where you left me. model in the picture: paola locatelli. banner by me.

i also wanted to take a minute to thank some really nice friends that i've made here over these past few months & that i'm extremely grateful for @wastelandcth @suchalonelysunflower @littledrummerangie i cannot thank you babes enough for inspiring me the way that you do & for letting me yell about this to you && for encouraging me so much 🥺 i'll never be able to explain just how much this means to me, so i'll have to settle for saying thank you at any change that i can get <3 i love you all 💜 also gem my baby, thank you for the inspo with the banner 💚

@bluesdelis look babe i did it �� you know how grateful i am for you & for you letting me have a breakdown every week about my writing for the past 8 years so let's not dive into that or else i will write something bigger than this prologue jsjsjdjd love you 🖤

i hope you all have a good reading and a nice day ♡

let me know what are your thoughts about the fic ! ♡

word count: 4.1k

☆☆☆

Cold. That was the first thing that Olivia’s brain processed.

Still with her eyes closed, she buried herself more into the duvet, while her arm blindly reached for the furnace in human form that she calls boyfriend. However, as soon as her arm was only met with cold sheets, her eyes shot open.

Blinking the sleep away, she sat up on the bed, searching for the infamous red clock resting on Ashton’s bedside table that was supposed to look like a vintage alarm clock. Olivia had ordered it online at an auction website a couple of years back, as a gift for his 23rd birthday, since it was something he had mentioned multiple times prior that he was looking for, but still hadn't found. But when it finally came in (two weeks after the due date), it looked nothing like the picture she saw on the website. Feeling beyond frustrated, she wanted to send it back immediately and ask for a refund and maybe leave a not so polite review on the seller's page. But Ashton stopped her right away, laughing like the situation was absolutely hilarious to him, while saying, 'I like it, it’s quirky'. So, the clock stayed and found a home right next to him in their room.

Some days, however, she would wake up at some ungodly hour because of the blaring noise of the only ringtone the clock had. But whatever annoyance she could feel towards the object, it always vanished as soon as she felt Ashton's lips gently touching her face in a good morning kiss before he would get up to start his day, leaving her to catch some more hours of well deserved sleep.

As the furthest from a morning person as a touring musician could possibly be, Olivia had always feared that living under the same roof as Ashton would turn her into an early bird like him, but she's thankful that it never happened (not that he needs to know about that).

When she sees the red clock, she smiles at the sudden but welcome memories of them flooding her foggy brain, but frowns slightly when she realizes it reads 12:13 pm. Ashton rarely lets her sleep past 10 am.

Gathering all her strength and will, she rises up from the bed, smoothly picking up a grey wool sweatshirt from the chair (way too baggy on her slim body, but it smells like him), pulling it over her head and relishing on the soft material warming up her body. Making her way to the door and calmly going down the stairs, she can’t help but stop for a minute to admire the picture frames on their walls, one in particular catches her attention – probably one of the most prized pictures and memories they had. It felt older than it actually is, but it was around 4 years ago, she's sure – a little while after the two of them met. The picture was of their group of friends that still remains the same: Ashton and his best friend, Luke; Olivia, her best friend, Calum and their old hometown friend, turned into Calum’s new friend at college, turned into everyone’s friend, Michael; and her then newly band members, Suki, Eli and Ravi. Together, their group was the life of the party through all their college years, and it showed by the big smiles and drinks in hands they all had in the picture. It was a very special night, the first time Olivia’s little band played for the public – for a small audience sure, but it was a wonderful night nonetheless. What a long road it had been since that night.

Her nostalgic thoughts were interrupted by a shiver that went through her whole body, and it made her realize how oddly cold the whole house was, not only their bedroom. Which, granted, it was November in New York and the weather was just getting colder, but that’s exactly why Ashton always made sure to keep the house warm enough. As much as she loved the chilly season, the warm weather always reminded him of his hometown, and who was she to deny him that?

The smell of fresh made coffee could be sensed even before she reached the kitchen. Arriving there, the curly haired woman still found no signs of her boyfriend, so she went straight after the coffee maker pot sitting on the far left corner of the cream marble counter. Smiling softly at the tons of memories of Ashton's sleepy figure making their favorite beverage, she reached for a coffee mug on the cupboard on top of the counter and poured the remainder of the hot liquid on it (it's her favorite mug, if she must choose – it was a gift from a fan, and it had printed on it a collage of the pictures of her and Ashton that were posted on social media through their first year of relationship).

Moving to the glass doors that lead to the mini garden they cultivate, she didn't have to open them to spot the 6-feet-tall man sitting on a bench outside, looking oddly small in his oversized clothes, coffee mug tightly held between strong hands. Something about his figure made Olivia frown, however: he was staring with an unwavering look at her small but eye-catching pot of yellow daffodils that were almost as much of a pet to them as Stitch at this point. Sensing that there’s something definitely off about his semblance, she made a mental note to talk to him and find out what’s wrong later. So she goes back to the kitchen, knowing that he might need this quiet and private moment for himself.

She lost count of the minutes that went by (couldn't have been more than five) before she hears the garden's door opening and closing, and then his bare feet are dragging his brawny body to her. Except, he goes over to the sink, walking right through her, not showing any sign that he even saw her hunched figure over the counter table in the middle of the room.

Alright, someone's in a mood.

Olivia tries to swallow the annoyance already bubbling inside her – he knows how much she hates to be ignored, no matter how mad he might be – by trying to think of what she can say that won't piss him off. This is always a hard feat to accomplish when Ashton gets in these moods, but there’s a reason for them to work so well together.

“I missed my favorite body heater when I woke up,” she says in her best sweet voice, knowing how quickly his resolve crumbles when he hears that voice.

Still, no reaction.

That settles a worry at the pit of her stomach, because Ashton is never like this. Even when he's not in the mood to talk, he always gives some kind of reaction to her words; it doesn't matter how small, just enough to make her feel acknowledged.

When he's finished washing his mug and the few scattered dishes across the sink – she noticed that he already had lunch, if the lone plate in the drying rack is anything to go by –, he dries his hand in a towel, turns around and throws it on top of the same counter Olivia was leaning up against. Once again, he walks away not even sparing her a look.

Indignant, she leaves the now empty coffee mug on top of the table and follows him as he walks up the stairs, any determination to not aggravate his mood now well gone.

“Hey! In case you didn't notice, I'm right here. Whatever got you in this sour mood, I'm certainly not to blame, so can you stop being a child now and talk to me?!”

Ashton just keeps walking – more like sluggishly dragging his body – until he reaches their bedroom and suddenly stops just merely two feet inside the room, looking around with vacant eyes; like he was expecting to see something that wasn't there.

“Okay, that's really mature of you. Are you planning on ignoring me all day then?” Olivia questions exasperated, staring angrily at the back of his neck, where the condor tattoo lives – her favorite of his, but that sight doesn't bring her any peace today like it usually does.

Her glare only breaks when she hears the familiar sound of dog tags swaying on her right side. Shifting her gaze to the direction of the sound, Olivia notices Stitch, their small, black & white French bulldog – who she thought was outside in the garden – slowly trudging his way from around the bed until he stops at Ashton's feet, looking up at one of his humans with sad eyes. That realization only makes the worry in her stomach grow uncomfortably.

“Hi buddy,” Ashton's voice cracks a bit from the lack of use, but he smiles softly at the sweet dog, and crouches down to pet him.

Olivia can't help but gasp as she notices three things all at once that leave her overwhelmed: first, how she didn't even notice Stitch was in the room when she woke up – which never ever happens, in fact, most days he wakes her up whenever he deems her bedtime as finished and can't ever contain his excitement when she finally gets up; second, how the windows blinds are closed, which, again, rarely occurs under their roof, not if Ashton can help it. And third, how sad and melancholic the whole scene in front of her is – how sad and melancholic Ashton is. Pointless to say by now – that's also a very rare occasion.

A chill creeps up Olivia's spine, putting her body into high alert and also serving as a reminder of how everything looks out of place today. Trying to keep her head from spiraling down way too soon, she wraps her arms around herself and crouches down beside her two favorite boys, trying once more.

“Ash? Can you hear me?” even with her throat closing, she softly asks, purposefully putting her face in Ashton's point of view. Her only answer is the low whispers he's letting out to Stitch, while cradling the tiny dog in his arms, spreading gentle kisses on his head.

“I know, bud, I know. I miss her too,” is the only whisper she could understand and immediately wishes she hadn't. The weak wail that comes from Stitch's throat seems to fit perfectly with how the three of them feel.

Ashton then looks up and for a couple of seconds, and Olivia can swear he’s staring right into her eyes. But when he shows no reaction, she knows he’s just staring ahead and not at her, with that look that says there’s too much going on inside his head. She feels the urge to embrace him and get him to talk about whatever is on his mind, so they can share that weight like they always do, but when Ashton gets up from the ground and settles on the bed with Stitch, Olivia can physically feel the crack in her heart caused by the feeling she’s left with.

While Ashton is pulling the duvet over him and the dog, with clearly no intentions of getting up anytime soon, Olivia stands up on her feet with a new-found determination – she needs to figure out what the hell is going on.

This nightmare had to be just that, right? Nothing but a very vivid dream – she's had those before. Scary sure, but they always go away, and soon enough she's back into Ashton's arms, with Stitch jumping on the bed ready to lick their faces off. She just needs to wake herself up from whatever fucked up dream this is – right?

She's running down the stairs this time, frantically in search of something, of what exactly, she doesn’t know – but she knows she needs an answer. The more she looks for something, the more desperate she gets, not knowing what to look for. Then suddenly, something catches her eyes.

The white and blue calendar that's held up by magnets on the side of the fridge. She knows their calendar is red and yellow. They got it from their favorite flower market. Slowly, as if scared of what it might be there – “It's just a calendar, for fucks sake” – she approaches the damn thing. Upon inspection, she deems it as a normal calendar – she really doesn't know what she was expecting – until.

She knows what's wrong with it now.

It's November. She knows it, because the Asian and last leg of her first world tour is about to begin November 21st, eleven days from today. Right after Mike's birthday, she knows this.

Then why does the calendar say today is January 14th?

☆ ☆ ☆

Ashton woke up with a jolt. He quickly sat up, frightening the little Frenchie that was asleep right next to him on the bed. Trying to make sense of his surroundings, he roughly rubbed his face to get some sleep off of it and soon reached for the dog that was staring at him with sleepy but sad eyes. Ashton is sure Stitch understands far more than a dog is supposed to understand about their current situation.

The room is covered in shadows, almost pitch black, but he can see the sunlight even through the thick dark grey blinds covering up the windows. Ashton knows he won't be able to sleep again at that moment, so he gets up from the bed – much slower than he used to. His heartbeat is still out of control because of the nightmare that woke him up, but he can't bother to pay attention to it when Stitch is softly wailing beside him. Ashton lets out a ghost of a smile when the dog rests his head on his right upper thigh, looking up at him with an expression Ashton knows all too well.

“C'mon you little ravenous creature, let's feed you,” the bulldog excitedly jumps to the ground, already running his way down the stairs, not even waiting for Ashton to get up.

That gets a real smile out of him, but it vanishes as soon as he glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It reads 5:13 am, nothing out of the ordinary for him. But that small and inoffensive clock, with its red paint peeling off, holds a lot of memories for him. Memories that two months ago would bring joy to his heart, but now he almost wants to throw the object across the room.

It was a stupid thing, really. He had been wanting a vintage alarm clock and Olivia got one for his birthday. But the product they received was definitely not the one she bought, and if he's being honest, he didn't like it as much as he made out to. But seeing her so excited in the weeks before it arrived, and how disappointed she was when it did, he couldn't help but try his best to make her smile that luminous smile again. It's part of his nature by now.

That's also the reason why he lets her think that he doesn't notice when she wakes up at some ungodly hour (her words, not his) along with him, because of the annoying and only sound the alarm clock is able to produce. He always leaves soft kisses in every inch of bare skin he can find on her sleeping figure, so she goes back to the dream land and doesn't wake up before 10 am. No one wants to deal with that kind of bad humor, not even him.

As much as he likes being a morning person and absolutely enjoys her company in the mornings, he knows she'll take any and every extra hour of sleep she can get before starting the day. And that's why he loves that she's so stubborn that his early bird tendencies never got to her – he knows she feared that this would happen when they moved in together, but he met her like this, fell for her like this. He wouldn't change a single thing about her.

Ashton drags himself out of the bed, wincing slightly at how cold the wooden floors are under his bare feet. He doesn't bother putting some socks on, or a sweater – the cold weather in the house is uncharacteristically comforting to him. Nothing feels warm without her anyway.

While descending the stairs, he mentally curses himself for not being strong enough to look past the picture frames on the wall. One in particular catches his eyes – a picture from the night of Olivia's first concert with her band. The memories of that night are still painfully vivid in his mind: the laughter among their group that eventually infected everyone at the pub, Suki and Luke's first kiss and the silly smile that didn't leave his best friend's face all night, the standing ovation Olivia got after her three-songs set, and her captivating and breathtaking smile that made him realize right then and there, while watching her sway to the music, that he was definitely falling in love with her and there was nothing he could do to stop it – not that he wanted to.

So many memories held up on that wall, in the relatively short time since they met, that he can't help but wonder if that's all they'll get in this lifetime.

Ashton is abruptly taken out of his thoughts by Stitch's barks coming from the bottom of the stairs. He quickly jogs down the few steps left and goes straight after the dog's food in the kitchen's cabinet. After Stitch starts to happily devour his breakfast, Ashton goes to make his coffee, doing enough for two people like he always does, since Calum drops by most days for a chat or to drop Duke before going to work. Although all three of them know he just can't bother to make food for himself in the morning, while Ashton is the group's elected chef. Ashton always says he just needs a boyfriend – Olivia says Calum already has one who makes him breakfast every day.

He grabs an apple from the fridge and makes his way outside to their garden. Even though a lot of their memories took place there, the garden is the only space in the house where he doesn't feel like suffocating all the time. At least here, he can breathe some fresh air and look at the sky when he's feeling overwhelmed – which is basically all he's been doing for about a month now.

Yet, a lot of the garden has Olivia's name written all over.

He remembers vividly the day she came home after spending two weeks in LA doing some pocket shows, with a pack of daffodil seeds and the largest smile. She excitedly told him that a friend gifted it to her when she mentioned the little garden they were planning to build together at their new house. The friend told Olivia that daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings, so as the good lover of symbolism that she is, Olivia loved the idea of having those flowers to symbolize their new beginning.

Ashton, on the other hand, wasn't a fan of the flowers at first – he just didn't see the appeal to them. But nonetheless, he indulged her, letting Olivia plant the seeds near the bench they used to sit during the quiet and unrushed afternoons, so they could admire the sunset, and she could happily look at the daffodils.

Pointless to say – the damn flowers grew on him.

Now, however, looking at them without Olivia and her contagious joy next to him, they were back to be as dull as they were before, if not more so.

Still lost inside his head without any sense of how much time went by since he sat down, Ashton doesn't hear the front door closing, and doesn't notice that he's no longer the only person inside the house until someone sits next to him on the bench. Yet, he doesn't show any sign of acknowledgement to them.

A few minutes go by before either of them speaks up.

“Luke said you didn't go to see her yesterday,” Calum starts softly, not wanting to disturb the calmness of the morning.

Ashton takes a few seconds to respond, “No point in doing that.” The black haired man licks his lips while thinking carefully about his next words.

“You know staying inside this house all day by yourself won't help either,” Calum turns his head to his left and takes a good look at Ashton's uncharacteristically hunched over figure, and immediately thinks that anyone can tell this man is not himself anymore. His second thought is that Olivia would hate seeing him like this.

“And what exactly do you expect me to do? Move on with my life like nothing happened? Like I'm not slowly and painfully losing the love of my life? Just because it’s easy for you doesn't mean it's easy for me.”

Calum closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows Ashton doesn't mean it, it's the anger and frustration talking. He knows it. Doesn't make it sting any less.

“I'm not telling you to move on with your life, because that's far from what I'm doing, and I certainly don't expect you to do it. I'm just saying you need to occupy your mind or else–”

“I'll go insane? Think it's a bit too late for that,” Ashton interrupts with a bitter tone that doesn't belong to his usual chirpy voice.

“You know it's not,” Calum sighs and drinks the rest of his coffee, moving his body slightly, so he's facing the blonde man, “I got a job interview for you at that school you talked about so much last summer, the principal said you can go any day this week. I went ahead and sent her your resume as well as explained everything that she needs to know about Olivia, so you don't have to. You just gotta put on some decent clothes and show up.” he sees Ashton's face softening a little and takes it as a victory. A few beats go by and then, “Maybe take a shower too. That's gonna make you feel better.” Calum leans in closer to his friend's personal space and takes a sniff, causing Ashton to deflect from him slightly, but not to push him away – another small win.

“Definitely take a shower, you stink. When was the last time your hair saw shampoo?”

“Fuck off,” is Ashton's only reply to the younger man's inquest. But Calum can see a smile creeping up on the blonde's face, which brings out a smile of his own.

“I'll send you all the details later today,” he checks the hour on the watch on his wrist and gets up, “Just please, Ash, go. I can't lose you too.”

Calum gently lays a hand on Ashton's shoulder and squeezes a little. The man doesn't look up, but gives a curt nod to his friend, who's satisfied enough. Calum stops on the threshold of the garden glass doors to give some kisses to Stitch – who came to make Ashton company as soon as he finished his food –, and then he puts the coffee mug on the dishwater. And soon enough, he's on his way out of the door. But not before snatching a tangerine from the fridge.

Ashton is left by himself once again. As he hears the sound of the front door closing, he thinks that this might be his life from now on. Just him and Stitch, trying their hardest to make it through another miserable day without the love of their lives. While everyone else comes by just to make sure he's still breathing. Breathing, maybe, but alive?

Swallowing the tears, he looks up at the sky. It's a deep, beautiful mix of orange, pink and blue, but he knows that it won't last long and soon the rain will be pouring down. He thinks about how much Olivia loves the rain.

God, he needs to pull himself together. She would hate to see him like this. Maybe he should take Calum's offer after all, he really needs to occupy his mind.

Making a mental note to thank Calum later, and also to apologize for how rude he was to him this morning, Ashton slowly gets up from the bench to put his mug on the sink and makes his way to the living room, with the small dog loyally following his every step. He puts on some cartoon that for once doesn't remind him of her (she always lovingly made fun of him for still watching those) and cuddles with Stitch on the couch. He can take a shower later.

Not half an hour goes by, he falls asleep and has a good dream for a change. He dreams of the days he spent with Olivia in the Philippines last February, right before her first world tour started. Some of the most magical days of their lives – surrounded by delicious food, a whole new culture to learn about and the warmth of the sun. Infinite counted days full of love and passion, where they were the only people in the world.

Even his subconscious knows to hold on to that brief moment of happiness, because he might never live that again.

#anna writes #perhaps she does write after all #alright i'm gonna go hide somewhere now bye #ashton irwin fanfiction #ashton irwin fic #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin x oc #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #ashton irwin imagine #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #anna writes: rwylm

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katsukikitten · 4 years ago

Text

Part 5

For once in your life, your eyes slowly open, only having been disturbed by warm morning sunlight. The soft comforter trapping your body heat and essentially you, as it pinned you to the soft mattress. You snuggle deeper into the sheets, breathing in the smell of clean linen and caramel.

Wait. Caramel?

With a jolt you jump from the bed, eyes wide as you look for the source of the scent. Patting down your jeans and shirt for at least one knife. You hardly remember what happened after dinner with his family. You remember booze, light conversation while feeling warm and floaty. Oh shit what was that passive that activated again? Rest assured?

"Info on rest assured." You grumble, voice soft from disuse. Your quirk happily pulls up a little informational box that you can see. Too sleepy to make the box private as it reads aloud to you.

"PASSIVE BUFF REST ASSURED. A newly unlocked buff that increases sleep quality and can only be activated around trusted individuals and safe places. Would you like a list?"

You stare at the question box with a flashing yes or no before you point with the tip of your knife to yes.

"Currently there is only one thing listed. Type : Individual Name: Bakugou Ka…."

"Oi." Someone calls from the front door of the apartment as you dismiss the information with a wave of your hand. He discards his boots at the door before making his way to his bedroom.

"You talking to yourself dumbass?" He says, blocking your only exit by leaning on the door jamb. He holds an iced coffee towards you, his eyes sharp as he adds.

"We need to talk about your file."

Crossing his arms you ignore his offer of iced appeasement, he sets it on the low dresser as you speak.

"It's not up for discussion."

"I'm your boss, I deserve to know."

"What you deserve to know is what's in that file. My whole life doesn't fit into a manila fucking folder. Quit asking questions."

"I'll ask what I want." He growls, "Because it's suspicious that you have this unbelievably complex quirk and yet I'm sure your top skills have nothing to do with stealing."

"If you're that concerned then ask the director of the program. I'm not the only secret 'reform'." You throw your hands into the air is exasperation

"He showed up dead shortly after you were inducted. Plus no one has any real record of what you've done. Not a single thing listed on what you've stolen."

"Talk to Deku then, he's next in line for that program, he ain't dead."

"He said he doesn't remember approving your file." He bites back and before you can retort strong fingers wrap around your wrist. His calloused pads brush over the cool metal of your bracelet.

"RECOGNIZED, BAKUGOU KATSUKI : NEW LIMITED ACCESS GRANTED. 1. Health and Condition status, upon request 2. Top five skills 3. Buffs that would benefit Bakugou Katuski. 4. Pending buffs to be activated by host. Please state a number."

"Two." "Cancel!" You try to shout over him but he beats you to it. The bracelet opens up a little box displaying your top five skills as of late.

"Stab resistance, poison resistance, what would a thief need those for? Stealth is number three and slight of hand is number five. Shit don't add up Princess." He glares while your nostrils flare, ripping your wrist away from his grip.

"You're really fucking pushing it…" He takes a step towards you while you step back as if it were part of a dance as you try so hard to keep your wrath in check.

"Am I? Like I said, shit ain't adding up. You have this bracelet that still has limited information to your quirk, support knows nothing of the recordings or god damn blocks you've placed on it and lastly…" Your knees hit the back of the back of the bed causing you to sit on the mattress. His rough palms come to lie flat against the fabric next to your thighs as he leans in. You fight to shrink back.

"Lastly, I deserve to know how an unnamed woman, who obviously knew you, turns up dead moments after I arrive on scene and then her body is gone in a matter of minutes. She poisoned you with a complex concoction that the lab in the agency has yet to figure out the formula to it and yet you knew the fucking antidote? What did you really do?"

Rage boils in your blood as you stare into his vermilion eyes. Like flipping a switch you turn ice cold, your breath mingles with his.

PASSIVE BUFF SHARP TONGUE ACTIVATED INSULTS DEALT WILL HAVE 39% MORE STING.

"You know what's funny? You don't see me asking how you became a manager with your shitty attitude. Nor do you see me asking how you manipulated and gaslit your way to the number one spot." You press your cheek against his as your lips graze his ear, "And you sure as hell don't see me asking how you're considered a hero at all after you told Izuku to kill himself in middle school."

The scars in his chest and stomach roar to life, demanding attention as his shirt scrapes against the sensitive skin. He takes a step back as if struck while the room begins to smell of smokey spiced caramel. His bones groan as his knuckles bloom white.

You smile as you stand, collecting your bag and the jacket he lent. Even grabbing the iced coffee he got you. Because why let it go to waste?

Cruelty slips onto your shoulders as nicely as his borrowed jacket while you pause at his bedroom door wanting nothing more than to leave him with terrible thoughts.

"Did you ever even apologize for that?"

Silence is your answer as you chuckle to yourself.

"Didn't think so."

You leave him with those nasty thoughts. Long gone as he still pants, pain shooting through his gut and lungs as it did all those fucking years ago.

As he moved without a second thought and placed himself in front of a stupid, dopey mop top boy who tried to hold up the weight of the world by himself.

With a guttural growl he looks over his destroyed room, as if a bomb went off.

He reaches for his phone dialing the number he never bothered to save.

"Meet me at our usual when you get off your stupid fucking shift. I know you've forgotten to eat you useless hero." The other line chimes in with a deep laugh as he adds.

"Okay Kaachan. I'll be there."

Izuku doesn't get invited out often and especially not by Bakugou. So the emerald haired boy decides to keep an eye on his oldest friend. Silently watching and not glancing too long as hot head huffs and puffs, taking another shot. The ash blonde's favorite spicy ramen goes untouched as the large man across from him slurps up his fourth bowl, covered in sweat and dirt from the day's work.

"You better get my fucking money's worth of this endless ramen bowl shit." He bites, slamming down another shot, fingers subconsciously finding the old scar on his chest. The action does not go unnoticed by his more docile friend. Izuku thanks the waiter as he starts on his fifth bowl.

"I'm starting to think you're mad about more than the endless ramen you ordered me." Bright emerald meet dark garnet eyes that glare, Bakugou's cheeks burn in his buzz.

"Fuck you. Nothin's wrong." Another deadly shot.

"That's your seventh. Kaachan you can't fool me. Your body language gives it away." Bakugou follows Izuku's eyes to his fingers. Quickly he removes his calloused pads from the divot. Angrily staring at the wall like a child who's been caught.

"Fuck you." He murmurs, silence settles over the pair in the far back corner of the restaurant. Bakugou's eyes glance over to Izuku who continues to eat, crimson bore into the scars on his arms from where the dumbass had broken them time and time again. His scars burn with your words, with the memory of what he's said in the past.

Too cruel and for what?

"You know I'm-" Bakugou starts but Izuku holds up a hand, wanting to spare his friend.

"I know, you've shown me everyday, even before you jumped in front of me, Kaachan. I've always known." He leaves it at that, in his heart he knows that Bakugou is sorry. He's seen it in every action since their first year at UA, he doesn't need to hear him say it.

What good are words when actions spoke louder?

"So what's bothering you? Worried over someone? You're dating Rogue now right?" Izuku asks, holding his chopsticks at a point while Bakugou takes another shot.

"Her file is what's bothering me. Deku, she doesn't have a fucking thing of her past. Not to mention you don't even remember signing off on her. Real responsible." Bakugou watches with a dull snarl as Izuku goes back to slurping his noodles.

"Ka...Kaachan." Izuku chokes, "Not fair. They put a lot of your desk too and I bet you don't remember half of it."

"I'd remember something like that. Just makes it that much more suspicious. Probably foraged by someone but the question is who…." Katsuki sets his head in his hand, staring at his orange broth.

"Well, did you ask her yourself?" Bakugou scoffs in response.

"Yea, and it didn't fucking turn out well." His finger finds his stomach this time, the ghastly white crater suddenly irritated by the fabric of his shirt. Izuku stops eating, he isn't stupid and easily connects the dots. The soft man thinks back a decade of his friend is the worst condition but more worried about him.

"Kaachan…" Deep jade eyes water a bit but Bakugou puts up a hand

"Don't." He barks, sighing.

"So you must really care about her if whatever she said affected you that much. You weren't even bothered when they were trying to 'cancel' you." Izuku taps Bakugou's bowl with his chopsticks, silently begging the blonde to eat. Hopping he'll take at least a bite to soak up some of that alcohol. Reluctantly deadly fingers pick up the sticks, gathering ramen between them but still undecided if he should eat.

His silence is answer enough for Izuku.

"I know my agency started the program. I'll look into it some more tomorrow. I'll be mostly office duty since I have so much paperwork anyway. But even if her past is dark Katsuki, what are you going to do? She may not have had any say in the matter, she doesn't give me that evil vibe."

Bakugou thinks back to you. How you fight, how you hold yourself.

How cute you were sleeping on his shoulder before he eased you onto his lap. How softly you snored in his bed. His stomach twists, Izuku's words and yours floating around his head.

"I guess I'll decide once I have more answers." With that the blonde decides to bring the spicy noodles to his lips.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bnha au #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bnha imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #too good to be true

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falcqns · 4 years ago

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partner in crime l

pairing: August Walker x OFC (Maeve)

summary: when an old hook up of August's dies, its up to him to step up.

warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of minor character deaths, dad!august, slightly soft!august.

a/n: hope you enjoy!

August opened his eyes, and was greeted by silence. he always was.

he was always greeted with dead silence, and he wouldn't want it any other way.

ever since he was a child, and his father died, he always woke up to an empty house. his mother cared for him sure, but never the way a mother should.

he was 6 when his father, a CIA agent as well, was killed on a relatively low risk mission. it was just supposed to be intel gathering, but a fight broke out and he received a bullet to the head. after his father died, his mother became a whole new person, and that person didn't want little August.

since he was 6, he'd been taking care of himself. when he turned 18, the only thing that changed was he paid is own bills. he'd been buying his own groceries since he was 10, and putting himself through school.

he never asked for help, he never learned to. he never learned what love was, and how to express it. and, to August, it never mattered. he never wanted children, he never wanted to be married.

he was perfectly content.

that was, until yesterday. he had gotten a call from a lady named Anais Torres, informing him of his child.

he didn't know about this child, but apparently she was the result of a hookup over a year ago, and her mother had died last week. he had had a rough mission, and went out to the first bar he could find, in search of some good alcohol and some female company to help him forget, even for just a little while.

as he looked over the file, he saw her name was Maeve Luna Walker. she had his last name, and he was on the birth certificate, so there was no doubt in his mind that she was his. there was a small picture, not a recent one, of her. he guessed it was on the day she was born.

he felt warmth swell in his chest when he saw her chubby cheeks, and dark hair peeking out from the tiny pink hat sat atop her head.

she was a little over 7 months old, and her mother passed away only a week ago. her mother had no other family, she had emancipated herself at 15, and he was the only family she had.

he had considered letting her go into the foster system, but was immediately talked out of my Sloane, who he had called for help after he had gotten the call. she had informed him of the horrible possibilities that could befall this little girl, and he, who was perfectly capable of taking care of a child, couldn't do that to her.

he had called Anais back, and informed her that he would take her. he didn't know anything about raising a child, or love for that matter, but he knew he had to try.

he had driven to his nearest Walmart, and walked to the baby section in search of everything he would need.

Anais had given him a list with the basic necessities, but as he was standing in the aisle that had cribs and bassinets on one side, and strollers and carseats on the other, and was completely lost.

was a bassinet better, or a crib? what type of car seat would be best?

there were so many questions he had, and he most definitely did not have the answers.

thankfully, after a few minutes of struggling, an employee noticed his struggle, and came to help him.

"hello sir. is there anything I can help you with today?" she asked nicely, and August gave her a small smile before answering.

"yes actually. my daughter is moving in with me, and I have nothing for her, and I'm totally clueless to what I need." The associate laughed, and pointed to the cribs.

"lets get you started with cribs." she said, and August made a mental note to give her a large tip for helping him.

August left Walmart two hours later, a crib, car seat, high chair, and all the other baby things he would need in tow.

he checked the time on his dashboard, and saw he only had about an hour and a half before Anais was supposed to be arriving with Maeve, and he had a lot to do.

once he arrived home, he set to building the crib, and was only halfway through when there was a knock at the door. August paused what he was doing, and walked towards the front of his apartment.

he got a glimpse of himself in the hallway mirror, and second guessed himself. was he ready to be a father? a dad? he knew next to nothing about children, much less a daughter. he took a deep breath, and continued to the door.

his breath caught in his throat when he laid eyes on his little girl.

she had curly brown hair, and the bluest eyes he had ever seen. he found himself wondering if she also had brown in them, like he did. he noted she was rather chubby, but the associate at Walmart, Cora, had assured him that she'd probably be that way.

"hello Mr Walker. I apologize for being a few minutes late, traffic seems to have picked up." she said, and August nodded, his eyes not leaving Maeve.

"oh it quite alright, I was running behind today too." he assured her, and Anais smiled.

"well, this is Maeve. she's a little tired today, its been a long week, and she doesn't really understand what's happening. she may be a little cranky, especially as it gets closer to her bedtime, but other than that, she's a perfect little angel."

that surprised August. he remembers being a rather defiant child, and was expecting Maeve to be the same, but maybe not.

he nodded, and watched as Anais set Maeve on the carpeted floor. Maeve's eyes glanced around the room, almost unsure of what to think.

Anais's phone dinged, and she looked down. "I apologize, Mr Walker. I have to get going, but everything you need to know is in that file, and all of her stuff is in this bag. if you need anything at all, just give me a call. I have a son around her age so I should be qualified enough to help you." she said, and August thanked her, and she was out the door moments later.

he turned to look at Maeve, who was just gazing up at him.

he bend down to her level, and got a good look at her. "hello, Maeve. I'm your father. I'll tell you this, I have no idea what I'm doing, but I am going to try." he said, and she looked up at him with a smile.

he felt the warmth swell in his chest once more. is that love? he asked himself. he didn't know, but he had a suspicion that it was.

taglist:

@kpopgirlbtssvt @nerdypinupcrystal @sohoseb

#august walker #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill drabble #Henry Cavill #mission impossible #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x ofc #august walker x ofc #dad!august walker #august walker x reader

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catboy-lover-archive · 4 years ago

Text

Obey Me Romanian MC

idea inspired by @/harunayuuka2060 (too shy to tag them)

Nu ştiu ce inspirație supraomenească m-a lovit dar am început asta la 2 dimineața și am terminat-o la 6.30

Im sleep deprived bc I stayed up all night doing this, enjoy gagicile mele

[added translations]

(under the cut bc this bitch is long af)

Lucifer: Are you not enjoying your meal?

MC: This food isn't even good. Next time I'm bringing my bunica to make you guys sarmale best thing you ever tried 👩‍🍳👌😘 mwah

MC: I'm not gonna go out with Satan, Beel, Asmo or Belphie.

Asmo: Awww

Beel: :(

Belphie: What?!

Satan: Why?

MC: Why date a guy who's favorite color is not in romanian flag? 🤔🇷🇴

Asmo: But I thought you could-

MC: For the last time IM NOT A VAMPIRE I CAN'T HYPNOTIZE PEOPLE OR MAKE THEM FALL IN LOVE WITH ME

Levi: Ohhh!!!! So are you like familiar with Castlevania-

MC: We don't talk about that *cries in disappointed*

Solomon: What is this weird potion.

MC: *puts bottle of țuică (plum brandy) on the table*

MC: This is not a potion, but a solution to all of your problems gagica 💖

MC: *talking to Lucifer* Oh iubire (love), stop crying over Diavolo again. Why cry over guy who would wear vagabond everyday in my country?

MC: Tsch tsch tsch

Lucifer: What the fuck is Vagabond

MC: Only the worst of streetwear existent. Only f-boys use it

Lucifer: Fair enough

Beel: Why do you want to try out for the sports team?

MC: Because Steaua, my country's team, disappointed me 😔

MC: Mammon! Asmo! Let me show you guys a thing called ✨manele✨

(after the Belphie incident)

MC: Does anybody have a belt.... a belt so I can...no reason...papuci de casă (slippers) works too

MC: Hey Belphie! Did you enjoy your punishment? 😜

Belphie: My butt still hurts...

MC: Next time it's the lingură de lemn ♡ (wooden spoon)

*MC dancing to Braşoveanca*

Mammon: W-what's that???

Satan: Some sort of ritual I suppose

Asmo: *joining in* It's fun!

MC: Doi✌paşi🦵înainte➡️şi😱doi😩înapoi⬅️ (two steps forward two steps back)

MC: Who has summoned me?

Satan: Belphie isn't feeling well and the medicine didn't really do it's job.

MC: Everyone watch closely because I'm going to teach you guys a sacred ritual called ✨Frecție cu Oțet✨

Satan: You're just pouring vinegar on his wrist.

MC: Now here comes the fun part. *maggages his wrists*

Belphie: Someone please kill me this is unbearable

MC: Am I allowed to say Tatăl Nostru (Lord's prayer) or is that too....uhhh weird since yall are demons and stuff-

Barbatos: MC...

MC: I'm sorry but crossing myself after I finish a meal is implemented in my brain. It's in the default settings.

Barbatos: What happens if you don't cross yourself?

MC: Lingura de lemn (wooden spoon) *shivers*

Diavolo: Do you like my castle?

MC: Baby, Peleş puts you to shame.

MC: Also, too much current (swift). Close the damn windows

Lucifer, giving up on life: Oh not again...

MC: DA PĂ CIMPOI DA PĂ CIMPOI JOACĂ FETELE LA NOI 👉👈😳

MC: Real music here 😌

MC: There, there gacica (girlfriend). Don't cry. *pats him on the back*

Lucifer: Do you got any more țuică...

MC: That's the spirit!

MC: I know I technically didn't die, but can we please have a funeral??? There is this really tasty cake just for this special occasion called colivă. Beel is okay with it so- hey don't ignore me! wait guys this is important- wAIT!

Satan: I hate Lucifer because he is my father.

Belphie: I hate Lucifer because he sucks in general.

MC: I hate Lucifer because Favorite color is red which is COMMUNISM COLOUR 😡‼

Solomon: See?? MC likes my cooking!

MC: Piftie...Caltaboş...

MC: Solomon, you would make a very good romanian housewife. Say, have you ever considered getting a 701st wife...?

Beel: *munching happily on the food MC makes*

Lucifer: *getting a fucking break*

MC: *making grătar(barbeque) cu mici*

MC: Everybody loves 1 Mai!

MC: Beelphiiieee!!!! I have a spell for you 😊

Belphie: Please not the lingură de lemn-

MC: *boop on the nose* ✨du-te dracu✨ (go to hell)

Lucifer: How did you make everyone behave?

MC: *looking at the papuc de casă in hand*

MC: You either die a hero...or live enough to become the villain...

Lucifer: Interesting, can you teach me?

MC: The secret is to use your wrist-

MC, whispering: Psst! Mammon! How's the sarmale trading going?

Mammon: Its okay, but why can't you just give me the recipe?

MC: E din moşi strămoşi (it's from older generations) I can't give it to you

MC: Hey pisi, want a ride in my Dacia?

Simeon: ...what? :)

MC: Come on gagica(girlfriend)! We are going to visit my family they will love you!

MC: You can also bring Luke. Just uhhh don't let him drink from the "juicebox" ok? It's not- It's not juice in there

MC: But you can drink. I won't tell anyone.

Diavolo: MC you can't leave yet. Not even for a quick visit back home.

MC: Auzi, da du-te-n p- (well why don't you fuck yourself on my dic-)

MC: *sigh* Sometimes I wish Satan was wearing Vagabond instead of...whatever that is

Asmo: Ouch, but yeah I guess we are that desperate.

Satan: I'm never tutoring any of you again.

MC and Luke, just vibing honestly: ⬇️Intră-n👇apa🌊mării🐚şi🐋nu🐟te🙄teme😱ai😳să-nveți🤯să-noți🐠printre🤔sirene🧜‍♀️🧜‍♂️

(go in the sea's water and don't you be afraid you'll learn to swim among mermaids)

MC: No Asmo, I have a date to the ball he's right here *points at țuică bottle*

Belphie: *misbehaving*

MC: Vai, vai, vai. Sărumâna Belphie 😃 ( well, well, well good day Belphie)

MC: *grabs the papuc (slipper)*

MC: NO LUCIFER IT CAN NOT BE AN AN NOU FERICIT (happy new year) IF WE DO NOT DANCE THE HORĂ

MC and Luke, vibing yet again: POVEȘTI DIN FOLCLORUL MAGHIAR!!! (maghiar folklore stories!)

MC: Where is my țuică? :)

Everyone: *quiet*

MC: I won't get mad :)

MC:

MC: Foaie verse de trifoi~ *papuc reappears* Dați băi țuica înapoi (green leaf of clover, give the țuică back you fucker)

Everybody: *runs*

MC: Mândruțelor (girls), come back until I'll put this to good use

Levi: *exists*

MC: *in love with him bc his fav color is in the Romanian flag and not in the commie flag*

MC: Te las să te lingi cu mime în parcare la lidl (I'll let you french kiss me in the Lidl market parking lot)

MC: Lucifer you don't understand!

MC: Sandu Ciorbă cured my depression!

MC: Muie cretinii pământului (fuck y'all stupid asses) my țuică is back and I'm not sharing anymore

Asmo: We're doing hot girl shit tonight

MC: Ne curvim rău (we're hoeing)

MC: futu-ți cristelnița mătii (fuck your mother's font) Simeon you're the one that drank all my țuică

MC: I'll let it slide this once, if u take me for shaorma(shawarma) in Piața Victoriei (Victoria's market)

Solomon: Whoops, I accidentally messed up the sarmale recipe

MC: Aşadar războiu alesu l-ai (So you have chosen war)

Mammon: MC, how do you say "I hate you" in romanian?

MC: Dar eu sunt mândru că sunt twink. (I'm proud to be a twink)

Mammon, clueless: ok thanks

MC, to Belphie: I had such a rough day, please fute-mi una (fuck me over) and not the way I like

Mammon: What would be a quick way to make money?

MC: Gagica(girlfriend), listen. Culegător de sparanghel (asparagus picker) in Spain is your go-to.

Asmo: *blasting manele vechi (old manele).2006*

Asmo: Please love me!

MC: *already in wedding attire*

MC: Beel! Here, try this! Yeah yeah its completely fine!

MC: ...what do you mean it looks like Solomon's cooking?

MC: THIS IS PIFTIE AND YOU WILL LEARN TO APPRECIATE IT

MC: *dragging them all by the hand to therapy*

MC: Păi aşa-i hora pe la noi măi bade- (This is hora to us well my mans)

MC, talking to Lucifer: Măi omu lu dumnezeu îți fut una de nu te vezi (listen God's man I'll fuck you over that you'll not see again) if u lay a finger on my țuică again

MC: I don't care that you have daddy issues, this is MINE now thank you very much.

MC: Doamne cu ce ți-am greşit? (God, what have I done to you?)

MC: tanti Lilith, ia-mă cu tine gagicuțo milf ce ești (Miss Lilith, take me with you you milf girlfriend)

MC: Chiar și culesul de căpșuni din Spania era mai ok dacât (even strawberry picking in Spain is better than) Therapist Simulator hell edition

Diavolo: *exists*

MC: Vrei să-ți fiu a ta mireasă? (Do you want me to be your wife?)

Simeon: *exists*

MC: Vrei să-ți fiu Ileană Cosânzeană? ( Want me to be your fairy wife?)

Belphie: Every time I doze off they say this weird phrase...

MC: Dormeo(mattress company) ! Noapte bună! (good night!)

MC: What do you mean im not allowed to have a cross around my neck?

MC: My dead grandmother would kill me it's Sfântu Andrei for fucks sake

MC: The law is law we gotta put garlic and salt everywhere around the house

MC: This is what you get from taking my țuică away AGAIN

MC: I mean, at least i dont have to take the bacalaureat and face the woman-hating-Ion-Creangă-fucking-twink-looking-nightmare-inducing Eminescu so

MC: *drinks a Mona Spirt (rubbing alcohol) bottle in one go*

MC: that works wonders for me

#IM SLEEPY SO IM GOING TO SLEEP AT 7AM BYYYE #♡♡♡#romanian mc #romanian mc obey me #obey me #obey me swd #Diavolo e dilf nu ați auzit de la mine #romanian #romania

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yandere-wishes · 5 years ago

Text

Eight Tries //Obey Me Yandere! Asmodeus x reader //

Thank you so so much for this wonderful prompt @feedmestraycats. Icon made by the lovly @bbelphie!

TW: attempted suicide, mention of rape/noncon, gore, murder, cheating

This was getting old, he still wasn't home and there was no point in pretending that he was just running late. No, you knew that your husband was not coming back home tonight, maybe if you were lucky you would find him passed out on the couch sometime in the late afternoon once you returned from the marketplace.

There was no reason to spend the dreary and dull night alone. If that spoiled hero you called a husband could be spending such a gorgeous night, out with some prostitute from the slums then you could also be having some naughty fun~

--To call your current like a nightmare was an understatement. People awake from nightmares, they could open their eyes and be back in the safety of their warm beds, next to the person they loved. But the second your eyes opened you entered a hell on earth, there wasn't any escape, no freedom...and the worst part was that there was not a single soul to comfort you--

Five red candles set in a circle each one a blase with a tiny passionate flame. Two twigs inserted parallel to one another, caging in the dried corpse of a scorpion. Next is the demon's sacred seal written in the summoner's blood, elegantly and delicately. Sprinkle it with salt and state the ungodly words. "Oh, great Asmodeus lord of love, aviator of lust, I become thee come forth to me, I offer you my body and soul"

--You had been born to a noble family in a small and rather poor town. Despite the town economical standpoint, the natives were tremendously kind and neighborly. Everyone shared whatever little of anything they may have had. Your family, in particular, was the most charitable. Giving and giving as much as humanly possible. When it came time for you to chose a husband, your father requested you marry someone from the town, someone you truly loved disregarding how poor or wealthy they may be. Marry for love he insisted but keep it in the family. Regardless to say that's what you did. You found a man and fell in love, married a month later in a joyous celebration in which the whole town had been invited to....but then HE came along--

The circle in front of you puffed with a cloud of thick pink smoke. It invaded your sense, plunging into your mind and sending waves of ecstasy. It was a rush pure lust was infected into your entire body...

but then it stopped, neglecting your corpse and leaving you you confused and sweaty. It was in that eerie moment that the demon decided to manifest himself. He stood tall in all his glory, petite bat wings spread out. If it weren't for the dark shadow and uncharacteristic bitter frown spread thinly across his face, he would have looked as beautiful and perfect as the first miserable night you played eyes on him.

--In the dead of night Asmodeus had murdered your husband in clod blood. He had made you watch as he shredded your lover's corps leaving only a messy pile of blood and organs on the bed. But that had not been enough for the lord of lust. On that same blood-soaked bed he had defiled you, raped you and stolen what was meant for the man who's blood you now laid in, a weeping mess reeking of that demon's stench. Your parents had found you the following day. They were sent into an accentuated frenzy. How could such a horrifying thing happen? By the following year, you'd been wed again, only for Asmodeus to return on the night of your marriage and decimate your new husband. By the fourth accurations, the townsfolk had deemed you cursed, at first they tried all that they could to save you from this dreadful beast. But all too soon it had turned into a competition. "Who could marry the nobleman's daughter and survive the next day." Desperate to wed you off your parents accepted any challenger who arrived....and each was dead by the morning of your marriage. By the sixth time, the townsfolk had already tried to kill you on multiple occasions. The sweet and caring town you knew had been annihilated replaced by this bitter, angry village of unkind and untrusting residents. And Asmodeus? Well, he'd made a game out of this, each time he'd find a new grisly way to slaughter your new husband and a new repugnant way to rape you. By the seventh husband, you'd already attempted four suicides. All resulting in fallierur, by some black miracle that dreadful demon was always able to save you and keep you alive. All hope was lost or so it seemed.--

"He's out again..." Was there any need to explain why you'd summons him. Over the last two years since your wedding to the "hero", these summonings had been almost routine.

"Of course he is darling~ did you really think you were enough to satisfy him? hm?"

The words stabbed your heart like a million needles at once, the reality was all too fragile and could come crumbling down at any given time. You had never been enough, this was a well-known fact at this point. You had never been enough for your lovers, parents or town's people and now you weren't even enough for your own husband, the man that had saved you from all your miseries.

"Love, he's a hero. Hero's don't settle down and live domestic lives with their loved ones and children. They need the torture of missions and anguish of journeys to feel alive. When they leave it all behind they wind up as hollow husks filling out the rest of their existence with alcohol and street women."

--After having prayed to God for too many days and nights to count, he's finally sent you a hero. Tobias was sent to vanquish the demon Asmodeus and merry you as a reward. At the time you'd all thought he had succeeded, that the avatar of lust was really dead. The thought had brought you joyous days and depressing nights. A part of you was beyond thankful that he was finally gone. The other half missed and longed for his lips on yours, for his hands brushing against your skin, the feel of his honey-colored lock tangled in between your fingers. You missed your tormentor...

At first, you and Tobias had been like any young couple so in love to notice the conflict of the world around you, so in love to disregard each other's sharp edges. So in love, until you were no longer. The first year had been sweet and peacful, every day was a harmonious dream...but then Tobias started coming home late, neglecting your presence. Some nights he wouldn't return at all and you'd run into town finding him in some pub drunk and with some random woman clinging to him. You spent those nights crying yourself into fitful revolting dreams of happiness and death. The old pre-suicidal habits had returned. One night the blade slipped and slashed a vain to deep, mentally exhausted you simply laid there waiting for the blood to run out. That's when you saw him again. Over the years he hadn't changed one bit, flirty smile and reddish-yellow eyes still playful and dark. He'd brought you back again and stayed with you until morning. The occurrence repeated it's self like clockwork until one night it was no longer dying and talking but summoning and...more. It felt right to feel him all over you again. His toxic presence made you feel complete, filling up holes in your soul.--

Asmodeus stalked closer, arms slinging in that all too causal way. You didn't dare take a step back, having played this game enough times to know every result before it even sprouted.

"(Y/N) why won't you listen to me! How dense do you have to be to repeat the same mistake eight times! Eight freaking times before it dawns on you that you are wrong! You will always be wrong! No worthless human or "holy hero" can ever love you as I do. I'm the only one. I'll always be the only one!"

Your brain screamed that he was wrong, that you could have had a prouspoures, dazzling life had he not killed your first husband or second or even third. Ir was his fault that your beloved town had been plagued with riots and corruption. He taught your people to sin, to ignore the words of God and his angels! Yet your cracked heart knew that he was right, no man would ever love you again... hey all married you for some selfish obligation or another. And Tobias....Tobias was the worst of all. He was forced to marry you by the holy on. Thrust into a loveless marriage with the suicidal "beauty" he was forced to save. Why couldn't God have just killed you all those years ago? Given the poor "Miss wanna die" her sole wish. He was right, this MONSTER was had always been right! No one loved you. You were less than the rubble under people's feet. Even noble god had turned his back on you...but he, this evil demon...Asmodeus had always come back for you. Hw stole your innocence, your purity, your life! your destiny was forever ruled by him. Maybe that's what you were so constantly in pain and isolation. You were trying to outrun your furutre. Why? What was the point of escaping your inevitable faith? Let it go, submit, your miserable life would finally become less of a burden. Give up, hand over the crumpled misery you called life to Asmodeus, let him take over. It would all finally be over. No more pain, loneliness, the misery would come to a sweet end!

In a daring, insanity driven moment you lunged yourself forward gripping Asmodeus' toned shoulders with all your strenghth. Fingernails digging deeper and deeper into his creamy skin. Crashing your lips onto his, trying to let the kiss speak for you. Begging he would comprehend your actions, praying he would accept your submission. In no time he took over, dominating the kiss, slipping his wet muscle into your mouth. Running his larger hands to your lower back. Dipping lower and lower, squeezing anything he could get his hand on. He was the one to (shockinly) break the kiss. He slowly pulled away leaving behind a thin string of saliva. His lush lips were pulled into a smug smirk, his eyes were lightening up with the most joy you'd ever seen. Forcefully he pulled you closer to his chest. Holding your head where his heart would have been.

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stonertransdad · 4 years ago

Text

Life Update since I hadn't been on here in forever

The pandemic was/is wild! Lockdowns started literally around the time we were going to the fertility specialist to get her pregnant. I lost my job to COVID in March shortly before we did the procedure, but we decided there's never really a good time to have a kid. Why not during a global pandemic when one of us in unemployed? (BTW, I don't recommend having a kid during a pandemic. Not being able to go to all of the appointments and having to sit in the parking lot was brutal.)

Let's talk about May friends...it was rough. (TW for mention of suicide btw. I'll post a gif where it's safe to start again if you wanna skip over it.)

So May 1st is the anniversary of my father's suicide. It had been 4 years. I found his body and since he wasn't married, I had to handle his affairs and arrange his funeral. May 1st, 2020 my wife and I had a Zoom game night with our friends and I got drunk because everyone was drinking (except my wife because she was pregnant). After our game night at like 2am, I had a psychotic break. I threatened to kill myself numerous times. My wife tried to talk me down, but eventually called the cops to take me. I thank her for that because looking back, that was the moment I knew something needed to change. I was convinced the cops were gonna kill me because I'm a trans dude in rural West Texas. I legit took the phone out of my wife's hand, hung up on 911, and yeeted her phone across the backyard and tried to hop the fence. Eventually the cops came and talked me down. They took me to the hospital an hour away in handcuffs (for their protection I did nothing wrong). They took me to the religious hospital that I was born in. So when they looked up my info by my name and date of birth from my driver's license (I only changed my middle name) literally all my paperwork and my bracelet had my deadname and wrong gender despite all of my legal stuff saying male with my new middle name. I mentioned it to them and they didn't care. They misgendered me the entire time I was there. I had hit my head hella hard on the bath tub when my wife was trying to snap me out of it, did the hospital even check me for concussion? Nope. I had punched so many things and my hand and wrist were swollen and discolored. Did they check out my hand and wrist? Nope. I was there for over 10 hours before I was able to convince them I was okay and that it was just the alcohol. Did I mention during that 10 hours I was literally out in the hall on a gurney with no mask and this was when COVID was running rampant in Texas (the first time)? I heard people die that night. I had nothing to distract me because they took away all of my personal items and clothes. My wife picked me up and we went home and I have been sober ever since. It's not the first psychotic break I've had with alcohol in my system. Alcohol just doesn't agree with me, but I'm finding new things to replace it with.

TW has been lifted...it's safe now.

A couple of weeks after that I began teletherapy because I had been on the same mood stabilizer and anti-depressant for almost a decade. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense that I felt like it hadn't been working for at least a year. This is a reminder to check in with your doctor if you feel like your meds aren't working. You may just need a different dose or a new med. There's no shame in that. I bounced around on various medications trying to find the right combo, some side effects scarier than others, but we got there. Before this, I had been diagnosed with ADHD, Major Depressive Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. My therapist threw out my Borderline diagnosis and said it was CPTSD instead, which made sense.

Fast forward to December because my wife was pregnant, I was unemployed still, and we did absolutely fuck-all because the global panini was still raging.

Our son was born on December 3, 2020. He weighed 5lbs 9oz and scared the ever loving shit out of us. He wasn't breathing when he was born so they called NICU in ASAP. I'm freaking out because I can hear and see what's going on while my wife was asking if he was okay as they put her guts back in place to sew her up. 5 or so minutes pass and a nurse asks if I want her to take some pictures. I'm like is he okay, he still hasn't cried. She's like "oh yeah, he's chillin." This goon was being held by a nurse and was just looking around not crying or anything. Chillest baby ever (he still is btw). I held him next to my wife's head until it was time to go back to the room. Little dude did have to spend 4 nights in the NICU because he couldn't keep his sugars or temperature regulated, but he was healthy otherwise. He's now 4 months old and is starting to sit up on his own a little bit and he's OBSESSED with standing. He's still a little guy, but very healthy and growing like a weed. He saves my life daily.

So after being unemployed for over 9 months, I started a new job working in a call center. I absolutely hate talking on the phone. It gives me anxiety and throws me into panic attacks, but I had been putting out hundreds of job applications since I lost my last job and this was the first offer I got. I wasn't really in a position to turn it down since my unemployment had ran out 2 months prior. It was 2 months of training, then we'd be on our own. I got thru the training and thought I could handle it...until they started putting us on live calls with someone helping us if we got stuck. My mental health hit the lowest point it had in a few years and my wife was terrified she was going to lose me. She convinced me to quit on February 28th (not because I didn't want to, but because I'm a stubborn ass who felt guilty). My meds got tweaked a little bit more dosage wise during this mess.

Starting about mid-February, I was experiencing severe shakiness, tremors, and spasms. I've always been a shaky person and never really thought too much about it, but at some points I could barely feed myself, or get a drink, or hold my son. On March 7th, I tried to make an appointment with my doctor about the weird symptoms I was experiencing, but she was out of town and her next opening wasn't until the 31st. My body said that won't work and my wife rushed me to the ER on the 9th...I had begun having seizures that day. I had no previous history of seizures. Got to the ER and had a seizure literally as I was walking thru the door, so they rushed me straight back. They took some blood and that was literally it. No MRI. No CT. They pumped me full of Ativan and said it was just a panic attack and to go home and chill.

Spoiler Alert: It wasn't just anxiety. I was having 20+ seizures a day. On the 10th, my wife rushed me to a different hospital...the good hospital over an hour away. First we had to drop off our gremlin with my mom to make things a little easier. Yet again, I had a seizure as I walked in the door and was taken back immediately. I don't really remember much because they kept pumping me full of Ativan and morphine because I had been in excruciating pain from the number of seizures I'd had. I do remember them doing a CT pretty quickly after I got there. Then they weren't happy with the results of the CT, so they took me to get an MRI, which showed possible signs of Multiple Sclerosis (but I didn't find that out until AFTER the notes showed up in my patient portal after being home a few days, so I raised hell...more on that later.) They did a 24 hour EEG on me and it showed nothing abnormal. Also, EEG glue is a bitch on your hair and scalp. After looking at everything and given my previous mental health history, they diagnosed me with Psychogenic Non-Epileptic Seizures, or PNES. It is a subset of Functional Neurologic Disorder, or FND. I couldn't walk well anymore and had to use a walker when I was discharged. I was in the hospital for 3 days.

When I had my follow-up appointment on the 23rd, I asked why the possibility of MS was never mentioned to me since it was very clearly in the notes. The doctor didn't have an explanation. He called in a referral to neurology so I could get a 2nd MRI to confirm MS and marked it as high priority. He also didn't take my pain seriously. My pain levels had been at a 5 or higher every single minute since they took me off of the morphine in the hospital. He told me to keep taking prescription strength doses of ibuprofen and Tylenol, which I had been. I let him know I had been and it didn't even take the edge off the pain. He ignored me. Leading up to this appointment, I had also added urinary incontinence to my growing list of symptoms and was forced to wear diapers so I didn't have to do laundry all the time. The doctor also took me off my ADHD meds because they were lowering my seizure threshold. He also took me off of my sleeping meds and nightmare meds for the same reason I'm assuming.

I kept my appointment on the 31st with my primary doctor because she's been my doctor for 5 years now and I knew she'd take my pain seriously. She did. She immediately wrote me prescriptions for a muscle relaxer and Tylenol 4. She also told me that my referral had been rejected by neuro. She said my case wasn't a good one for what she called a "wallet biopsy" and the doctors in neurology could be real assholes. She immediately sent the referral to other locations to get an approval. I am still waiting on that despite it being marked as high priority. She wrote me a prescription for a wheelchair because we both agreed my wheelchair was not enough for particular days.

Yesterday my wheelchair was finally ready for pickup, so my wife drove me to go get it. I'm still unable to drive due to my seizures and my tremors and twitches as it's predominantly in my legs and arms. I am an ambulatory wheelchair user now. Some days I can go short distances without my walker, some days I can't go without my walker, some days I can't even get out of bed, and some days I will be using my wheelchair. Don't judge a book by its cover, not all disabilities are visible. I have managed to keep my daily seizure count down in single digits and have even had a few seizure free days. They are still incredibly taxing on my body. I feel like I can't ever replenish my spoons fast enough to keep up with anything in my life.

So all in all, life has been chaotic. We are moving from Texas to New Mexico in the next few weeks, which should be interesting considering I can't overdo it without throwing myself into seizures. We will be closer to my mother-in-law so she can help us with our son and I can start resting a bit more on the more difficult days. Being a stay-at-home dad with an invisible illness has been one of the most challenging things I've done in my life, but I wouldn't change it for the world.

Sorry this is so long. I just wanted to update my followers since it's been over a year since I posted before a few days ago.

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one-boring-person · 4 years ago

Text

Just A Babysitter. (Part One)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: alcohol use

Context: (Y/n) lives/is close friends with the boys, and will do almost anything for them as she sees them as a family. However, since Star and Laddie joined the coven, she's felt a little distanced from them. (I say that the reader is female, but I'm pretty sure there is no explicit reference to gender that isn't easily overlooked, so it can apply to other readers, too.)

A/N: This started as a oneshot, but has now become a story of sorts, so I'll post it in parts. :))

Part Two , Part Three , Part Four , Part Five , Part Six , Part Seven , Part Eight

Irritation courses through me as Star drags me into the crowd of writhing bodies, the half-vampire laughing happily to both herself and Laddie, who is being pulled around by the hand, wincing when some greasy rocker tries to come closer to me even after only being there for two seconds, my elbow landing a hefty thump into his abdomen in order to get rid of him. The music is loud in my ears, though it isn't unpleasant at all, the heavy saxophone-laced rhythm lightening my mood a little as I start to move in time with it, keeping an eye on my two wards, especially Laddie, who has a tendency to run off. For a few minutes, we continue to enjoy the music before I feel her tense up beside me, someone having caught her rapt attention.

Looking over, I follow her line of sight to a brunette I don't recognise, the guy staring at her without abandon, even when who I presume to be his younger brother slaps his cheek. Instantly, I get a bad feeling about him, not trusting the way he eyes the girl beside me, no matter how endearing she may find it. I have the feeling she will try to lure him away from the crowd and make him her first kill; my hunch only confirmed when she passes Laddie off onto me and ducks out of the throng of dancers, leaving me to pick up her pieces again. Growling to myself, I swiftly lift the youngster onto my shoulders, putting on a false grin when he squeals in excitement, giving him some excuse about finding him some sweets back on the Boardwalk to get him to come willingly.

"Where'd Star go?" Laddie questions me, voice barely audible over the throbbing music.

"I don't know. Wanna go find her?" I respond, squeezing his legs gently when he assents, holding onto my head so he can steady himself. Ignoring the gradually building ache in my back, I follow the direction Star walked off into, giving the boy on my shoulders the strict instructions to keep an eye out for the half-vampire, offering him a chocolate bar as a reward.

Carefully, we make our way onto the Boardwalk, avoiding some of the more rowdy surfers and party-goers, my focus set on finding Star amongst the people lining the roads. It doesn't take me long, though I let Laddie point her out to me, allowing him the small burst of pride that likely accompanies the achievement, no matter how small it is. Heading over to her, I reach into my pocket and pass the boy the chocolate bar I always keep on me, smiling when he giggles in satisfaction, the sound of the wrapper being torn open quickly coming from above me.

"Hey Star. Find what you were looking for?" I greet, giving her a suggestive look when she acknowledges me, though it is obvious that she is still distracted.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I did." She replies, turning to walk away again, silently demanding that I follow her, knowing I can't disobey David's strict rules from before.

"Look! There's Dwayne and David! And Marko and Paul!" Laddie points out after a few minutes of navigating the heaving crowd, gesturing to the right to show us where he means, waving at the coven of vampires as we turn to approach them, my shoulders screaming for relief. Moments later, we break through the people blocking our view of them, greeting the laid-back vampires accordingly.

"Having fun?" Paul questions me in particular, knowing full well I hate having to watch over the irritating half-vampire, his voice teasing as he sends me a pointed look.

"Oh, tonnes." I respond dryly, letting Laddie down as Star climbs onto David's bike with him, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking at me with a small smirk on her face, the gesture inciting a pang of jealousy within me, before she glances off to the side, David following her gaze. Doing the same, I suppress the urge to roll my eyes as I recognise the brunette from earlier, instead focusing on helping Laddie onto Dwayne's motorbike, telling him to hold on tight. In response to this, Laddie smiles at me, Dwayne doing the same as he kicks his bike into gear, thankful that I did the job none of them wanted to do.

"Lets go, boys." David announces, looking at me expectantly, even though the term "boys" does not (necessarily) apply to me.

"I'll catch up." I mutter, before turning away and disappearing into the crowd, aiming for the bar at the edge of the Boardwalk, sighing as I hear the tell tale roaring of the motorcycle engines retreating over the cheerful music lingering in the air.

On my own, I manage to cut a path through the mass of people with decent success, quickly reaching my destination without any difficulty. Pushing open the door, I enter the dusky bar and head over to the counter, signalling for the bartender to take my order. By now, they all know my usual and will just prepare it for me without me having to ask, the tumbler of whiskey swiftly appearing before me, though I stop the blonde girl from leaving as she turns away.

"Leave the bottle, please." I request, pulling out enough money to pay for it from my jacket pocket, handing it to her in exchange for the large bottle of strong whiskey she places on the counter. Thanking her, I swill the liquid in my glass around for a few seconds, taking a drink when I'm satisfied with it, relishing in the burn that accompanies the flow of alcohol down my throat - none of them question my age anymore, not after the boys had a word with them.

I repeat this motion until the glass is empty, choosing to focus on that rather than the reality I face when I get home, back to the boys and their new half-vampire "friends". It shouldn't bother me, I know they all care for me and do their best to show me this, but something about Star and Laddie's sudden entrance to our way of life seems to make them forget this, most of my old friends' attention now lingering on them, rather than on me, like it used to. A bitter chuckle leaves me inadvertently as I think this, mentally calling myself selfish and pushing that last part down into the depths of my mind, knowing that I've had my fair share of attention from them in the past four or five years. I slam the glass on the table as the last of the amber liquid runs down my throat, shaking my head to snap myself out of my thoughts before heaving myself to my feet and walking out, taking the bottle of whiskey with me.

Upon leaving, I swiftly find my bike on the near-deserted Boardwalk, climbing onto it, only to take a moment to take a drink from the bottle in my hand, wincing as the strong alcohol burns its way down into my stomach. As I lower it, I notice a familiar brunette walking over to me, a curious expression on his face as he watches mine become one of confusion; it's not often that an interest of Star's wants to speak with me.

"Hey, can I help you?" I greet him as he finally arrives, looking him up and down a little to gauge his motive for approaching me.

"Err, yeah, I was just wondering where your friend is." The guy explains to me, frowning when I forget to disguise my eyeroll.

"Star? She isn't my friend." I correct him, not too willing to go into specifics with him.

"Star, huh? Nice name." He murmurs, almost to himself as if I'm not right there.

"If you like that kinda thing." I shrug dismissively, taking another drink from the bottle before offering it to him, giving him a small smirk when he accepts.

"Thanks," He says, returning the bottle to me as he continues, "You two aren't friends? You seemed pretty close earlier. You, her and those weird guys."

"Weird guys? Don't say that to their faces." I chuckle, grinning widely at him as he laughs in response, "I'm not close with Star, but the guys are my family, so I guess we're pretty close."

"Family? Like brothers or something?"

"Family in the non-biological sense of the word. They helped me through some tough times." I affirm, once again trying to avoid telling him the truth.

"Right. Well, do you know where they went?" The brunette questions me again, giving me another hopeful look.

"No, they never tell me anything anymore." I reply bitterly, even if the words are only half true, drinking again despite having to drive in a few minutes. What's life without a little risk, eh?

"I thought you said they were like your family?" He frowns at me again, believing that I'm holding something from him, which is entirely true.

"Yeah, but not even a family is completely truthful with one another." I remind him, deciding a stronger warning is needed, "Take it from me, of all the people you can hang with in this town, they should not be your first choice."

Yet more confusion etches itself onto his face at my words, going to say something before I cut him off.

"What's your name, by the way? I can pass it on to Star if I see her again tonight." I promise, though it is likely they will see each other again tomorrow, so there's not much point on my behalf.

"Oh, I'm Michael, or Mike for short." He informs me, smiling again as I reach out to shake his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mike. I'm (Y/n)."

"Nice talking to you, (Y/n). Thanks for the advice."

"No problem." I laugh, looking at my watch briefly as I try to figure out the time, "Damn, I'd better get going, or the boys'll have my ass for breakfast."

Amused by my "figure of speech", Michael quickly says his goodbyes as I kick the bike into life, relishing in the feeling of the engine purring beneath me. Stashing the bottle in the compartment under the seat, I rev the motorcycle a little before applying he throttle, a delirious whoop of exhilaration escaping me as I charge off the Boardwalk and onto the most direct road to Hudson's Bluff, ignoring the angry protests of the civilians around me, concentrating on getting myself home instead.

Part Two

#david(thelostboys)#joel schumacher #the lost boys #vampire #paul(the lost boys)#dwayne(the lost boys)#marko(the lost boys)#kiefer sutherland #star(the lost boys)#laddie(the lost boys)

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twilightofthe · 5 years ago

Note

for the fanfic title prompt (I'll give a few separated by numbers): 1. Under the Evening Sky; 2. Oh Dear; 3. In His Eyes; and finally, the obligatory song lyric title: We Will Call This Place Our Home

Took me a bit to come up with the right fic idea for all of these and it was really super fun, thanks so much!!!!! Here’s your fic summaries!!! (from this ask meme)

Under the Evening Sky

Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Rated (very high) T, probs one of those 20k oneshots, starring Obi Wan and Anakin (and Ahsoka), Obikin endgame

Summary: When you throw a ball for high profile politicians in the middle of a war, multiple assassination threats are an inevitability. Any Jedi presence would be a great comfort, though they will not be exempt from the dress code.

Dressed to the nines, Obi Wan and Anakin have a job to do tonight. The stars are bright, the alcohol is flowing, several killers lurk, Obi Wan pretends he’s dancing with someone else, and Anakin wonders who in the hells was both blind and persuasive enough to convince Obi Wan he didn’t look good in red…

This would be a noir/James Bond-style get-together fic for Anakin and Obi Wan. It would be full of them and Ahsoka in fancy clothing and at a shmancy ball trying to hunt down a group of assassins. There’d be LOTS of appreciation for one another all dressed up (I’ve already imagined Anakin in dark blue and Obi Wan in red so y’all can too, some subtle eye makeup, etc. There would be a Thing where Anakin was so preoccupied doing Ahsoka’s makeup he forgot to do his hair so just pulled it back, and Obes will like, run his hands thru his hair and pull it back out and rearrange it like “nah ur perf as it is” and they’re both dying inside while it happens). There’d be dancing with other people, trying to drink away those pesky feelings for one’s partner, fighting in fancy clothing (and silly boys lusting over the other fighting in said tight clothing) (also Ahsoka absolutely has learned from Padmé how to pull off and then stab someone with a high heel), repression of feelings, and ultimately revelations of feelings, finally dancing with one another and heavy makeouts in the coat closet.

Oh Dear…

Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Rated T, average-size oneshot, starring Ahsoka with Anakin, Rex, Domino Squad, Obi Wan, and Padmé

Summary: When Ahsoka gets a citation on a recent mission report for “improper language”, she reflects back on where she might have picked up such a habit.

Or: Five Sources Who Taught Young Ahsoka Tano Exactly How Many Different Ways One Can Say “Fuck”

This would absolutely be a crackfic where I expand on my headcanon that since Ahsoka grew up in an army and alongside the likes of personalities such as Anakin “I was an impressionable nine year old on Fucking Tatooine” Skywalker and Obi Wan “If you swear in a different language it doesnt’ count” Kenobi, our girl probably has the worst potty mouth in the galaxy, and how that might get her into trouble or gain her respect depending on the situation.

In His Eyes

Star Wars Original, Rated T, average to long-ish?-size oneshot, starring Leia and Han (and Luke), Hanleia

Summary: Leia looks away from the bright glare of the sand, only to find Han’s hand suddenly patting along her face and nearly poking her in the eye.

“Sorry, Leia,” Han mutters. “I’m assuming that’s you and not Luke. Still can’t see too well.”

His hand starts to wander a bit lower, and for a moment Leia’s worried she’ll have to inflict pain, but as soon as Han’s fingers graze bare skin where he knows they shouldn’t, his hand whisks away while his eyes widen. “Shit, princess, you must be cold!” He instantly starts trying and failing to take off his own shirt.

“We’re in the desert,” Leia feels she has to point out, despite the fuzzy feeling suddenly warming in her heart.

Basically this is going off of that one comment someone on here made that Han, the man who loved and married her, was the one person who never got to see Leia in the slave bikini because he was still blinded by the carbonite freezing. This would be a fic from Leia’s perspective starting right after they escaped Jabba’s barge and are headed back to the Rebellion up and through the Battle of Endor. She’ll be pondering all the while her relationship with Han and how he sees her and how she feels about it and how she may want to start a life with him.

Highlights will include the summary scene where not only does Han drink his respect women juice and instantly try to be a gentleman and offer Leia his shirt the moment he notices she’s not as dressed, Luke at the same time notices, and while before he was just trying to respectfully not look, now realizes belatedly that “oh yeah she can have my shirt!” and Hidden Protective Brother Instinct kicks in so he ALSO tries to give Leia his shirt. Han objects because “hey this is MY chivalrous gesture back off” and this of course leads to the two of them ending up in their underwear and throwing their whole wardrobes at Leia like HERE TAKE IT while Leia laughs for the first time in what feels like ages. Lando has removed no clothing during this and is just focusing on driving like “uh I think they got you covered”

We Will Call This Place Our Home

Star Wars Rebels & Star Wars Original Trilogy, Rated T, multichapter snapshots, starring Hera, Zeb, Rex, Kallus, Leia, and Luke

Summary: Those who call themselves Spectres are constantly haunted by ghosts of the past, up to, including, and right on past one day that brings a Fulcrum agent dead, a planet destroyed, a fatherless son born, and now the Rebellion apparently has a Jedi again…

This would basically be an insight into the Rebels characters Kanan and Ezra left behind, and snapshots of their lives. Particularly, what they were doing around the time of Rogue One– I think Kallus knew Cassian, obvs. Also headcanon that pregnant Hera insisted in flying in the Battle of Scarif which promptly caused her to go into labor directly after, causing her to have Jacen either on Lothal like she had planned or in the Ghost on the way, which is why the Ghost isn’t near Yavin for that battle. Also would include a talk between Zeb and Leia about surviving your planet’s genocide, a talk between Leia, Luke, and Hera about knowing any other people who could help Luke, and one between Luke and Rex who was Not Ready For Any Of This.

#hope you liked!#once again dangit tho now I have IDEAS oh nooooo #but really thanks so so much for the prompt!!!!!!!!!!!!#ask #asks #bpdanakins #morai musings

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otome--fantasy · 5 years ago

Text

Of Demons and Dragons

Ikemen Sengoku Imagine: Being able to turn into a dragon.

Ch.6

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of dark themes, mentions of alcohol consumption

You hadn't ment to fall asleep while you groomed your scales, you weren't even aware you had dozed off till an absolutely blood curdling scream and the sound of something wooden clattering to the floor woke you up. With a suprised grunt, your eyes shot open and you attempted to stand, causing you to bump your head and the points of your antlers hard against the cieling. You wriggled and writhed in a panic, desperately trying to move around as you had forgotten where you were.

"Princess?!?!"

Your head snapped to the open door to see a terrified Kinu, shaking with her hands covering her mouth, and the tray of food she had been carrying splayed out on the flooring. Your own eyes widened in suprise, but you quickly snapped out of it when she moved to run away. Without thinking, you lunged for her, catching her with your teeth by the back of her obi and pulling her into the med bay before using your nose to shut the door - all while she screeched in fear for her life.

"Kinu!" You called her name to try and get her attention, but she couldn't hear you over all her screaming. With a huff, you carried her to the center of the room. She was struggling and beginning to sob and hyperventilate as she tried to free herself from your grasp.

"Kinu!" She gasped and paused in her frightened fit at the sound of your voice.

"P-princess?!" She looked around the room, unsure of where your voice had originated from.

"I'm right here, Kinu."

She visibly froze and looked behind her to see you, "Oh goodness...!" The poor girl looked like she was on the verge of tears, "The beast ate you princess?!"

You sighed through your nose and rolled your eyes before gently putting her down on the floor and released her, "No Kinu," you corrected, "It is me."

She swallowed a thick lump in her throat, "Huh...?" And looked up up at you with her jaw dropped and eyes wide, "P-princess?"

"Yes, Kinu," you tilted your head slightly to the side, right ear twitching as you gazed at your maid. You briefly wondered how many times you would have to reiterate this.

"Wha-wha-what happened to you?" Her voice was shaky as she trembled, causing her to stutter.

"Nothing," you blinked, "I am the same as I've always been."

"But-but you're a...uh-"

"Dragon," you finished for her.

"Yes," her breathing was still erratic, but she was beginning to calm down. She collapsed into a sitting position on the floor as she watched you shift back to normal. She scrambled on all fours to hand you your robe once you had finished and she realized you were naked, "I came to collect you for your bath, Milady..."

She seemed afraid of you, but you couldn't really blame her. "Thank you," you gave her a small smile, taking the robe and sliding it on before securing it. Kinu simply nodded and staggered back to her feet, before silently motioning for you to follow. You trailed after her to the bath house where everything was laid out - towels on the racks, bath nice and hot, and some scrubbing rags by the tub.

"Well, miss," Kinu kept it formal, too on edge to be as open as she had previously been with you, "I'll leave you to it."

"Actually, Kinu," You called to her before she could exit the room, "I could use your assistance."

She turned back to see you sliding off your robe and climbing the steps to enter the bath. She gulped and silently made her way back to you while you settled into the tub. A small sob bubbled from within her throat. What were you going to do with her? Did she know too much? Were you going to drown her in the tub for finding out your secret? You could simply say that she slipped and fell into the tub while she was preparing it and no one would question a thing. Tears welled up in her eyes and slowly trickled down her face, "Miss?"

"You have a body scrub I can use, yes? And a brush?"

She nodded, walking over to the shelf on the back wall and pulled down a wooden box before placing it on one of the steps and opening it. She pulled out a brush, a bowl, and a few jars - opening them before pouring a bit of the contents into the mixing bowl. First she poured some pure white sand into the bowl, followed by ground salt. You watched her with curious eyes as she added a few herbs, oils, and other plants, "I thought salt was valuable?"

Maybe you had your history wrong, but you thought salt used to be very rare back in the old days. It was even sometimes treated as a commodity by some countries. "In places without easy access to the sea, yes. Besides, this is a special stash we keep for important guests."

Made sense.

After she mixed the ingredients thoroughly, you saw her peal what looked like an aloe vera leaf and add it to create a lotion-like substance. She then picked up the bowl and walked around the bath to the side you were leaning against and set it down on the top step, before taking a seat herself. She was obviously nervous, and was using the home made bath scrub as a fidgeting tool - constantly stirring it even after it had been consistently mixed.

"You have questions," you broke the silence and heard a sharp intake of air from her.

"T-the others, Milady," it took her a moment to gather her thoughts, and fight back the sobs that racked her body enough to form a coherent question, "d-do they know?"

"No, they are unaware," you sighed, making the silent decision not to tell her about Mitsuhide. She was shaken up enough as it was, you don't need to give the girl even an inkling that you may have threatened him.

"O-oh," she sighed. So you were in hiding? "W-what exactly are you, Milday?" There was still a bit of shakiness to her voice.

"A dragon."

"Are there more of you?" She gently began to brush your hair in an effort to give her hands something to do other than shake. She was careful when removing all the knots that had accumulated over the semi-long period of neglect. You took this moment to ponder where your ancestors would be in this current time period.

"Yes," she paused along with you before the both of you continued, "I think at around this time my kind was- are divided. Some of us live among the people, but most of us live in more remote places away from civilization."

Kinu stopped her motions once again, but this time she leaned over the edge of the tub so she could look at you, "Why?"

"I suspect because of the hunters."

Her brows furrowed in concern, people hunted dragons? Were there some hunting you? Well that explained why you hid yourself, and though it wasn't the full reason - had she voiced it she wouldn't be entirely wrong, "Hunters?"

"Yes there were-" you corrected yourself, "are many of them these days. Most of us think living with humans isn't worth the possibility of being killed, so we live secluded in very hidden locations."

"Oh," she seemed to sadden at this, before placing the washcloth into the bowl, and began to wash your shoulders, working her way to your neck before scrubbing back out towards your arms. She thought about your explanation, as well as the way you had been treating everyone since your arrival. She thought your confidence among the warlords was something to be admired - especially in the eyes of she and the more timid maids, and you had been fairly kind to her and the other servants thus far, "Well I think that truly is a great loss to the world that you should all stay hidden."

You chuckled at her naive view, but you couldn't blaim her, ignorance was bliss in this case but also dangerous. You were the only one of your kind she'd probably ever met (knowingly), "Most of us avoid people like the plague."

She tilted her head, not understanding the phrase, though whether is was due to lack of schooling or because Japan had yet to hear of the plague was beyond you, "But those of us who do live among you all," you sneared as you recalled the history of your people, "Nasty."

Oh yes, there was no end to the list of abhorrent things your kind did to the humans back in the old days. Sure there were some who just wanted to live peaceful lives along side strangers who looked like them, but others... human trafficking and cannibalism (can it be called that?) to name a few.

"What do you mean, miss?" Surely it couldn't be any worse than some of the things people already did to each other, and on some levels she was right, but still, "You don't want to know."

Kinu took that as her cue to shut her mouth before she continued scrubbing, but she stopped when you turned around to face her, "Would you head back to my room and prepare everything for me?" You looked at her with soft eyes and a kind smile. This was probably a lot for her to take in, and you wanted to give her a moment to sort herself out.

"Well sure, Milady. Was there a particular kimono you had in mind," she smiled feeling a bit more at ease now that the two of you had time to talk.

"No, I trust your judgment," besides, she probably knew better than you what would be more appropriate for an occasion such as this. Her smile widened, and she nodded before heading off to go prepare everything for you, and once you heard the door shut you let out a sigh. Today had not been the best, but hopefully from here on out things would get better.

You finished up your bath - scrubbing off all the unseen dirt and grime that must have accumulated from your many days without self care, before drying off, grabbing a new robe, and sliding it on to head back to your room. You must have been in there for at least an hour and a half, because when you returned there were two mugs of water on your dresser along with another full of elixer.

Kinu looked up from smoothing out the kimono that had been laid out for you and followed your gaze, "Ah yes, Lord Ieyasu said he wanted you to drink at least one glass of water and your next dose of elixer before you went to the feast."

You gave Kinu a tight smile accompanied by a small humourless laugh, "Yes, of course," that was the first thing you did after closing the door behind you - hoping that the preparations for tonight would take long enough that both drinks wouldn't spoil your dinner too much. At first you weren't going to drink the second glass of water, but the medicine seemed to be getting worse everytime you drank it, so the extra glass was useful for getting rid of the disgusting aftertaste.

You now stood in front of a mirror that had been brought to your room to dress you and eyed the choice of design on your kimono rather curiously. There was an embroidery of a large dragon that stretched from below your waist line to the bottom of the kimono, the main color matched that of your scales, the stitched dragon matched your secondary colors, and the floral designs that served as a background for the dragon added a variety of color. Your hair was in a nice bun with loose curls and decorative accessories of flowers here and there. You almost didn't recognize your reflection staring right back at you, and you remained silent till the other maids left.

"You look beautiful, Princess," Kinu smiled, the imagery of the designs of your Kimono ironically flying over her head - even just after your conversation, though you wondered if she had done this intentionally.

"Kinu, did you pick this for me?" You turned and gave her a gentle smile, wanting her to know that, if she had, she wasn't in trouble, but if she hadn't-

"No, Mitsuhide arrived while I was looking for a suitable kimono, and said that you had requested to wear this specific one." She smiled at you through the mirror, oh so happy and blissfully unaware of what had transpired between you and the kitsune, "I assumed you thought of something you really wanted to wear and had changed your mind."

Fuck you, Mitsuhide.

"Oh yes," you laughed humorlessly, "How could I have forgotten," the smile didn't fade from your expression, though it didn't quite reach your eyes.

"Is something wrong, Princess?" Kinu, having been a servant for many years, recognized even the most subtle change in mood.

"No," you reassured her by turning to place a hand on her shoulder, "It's beautiful."

She placed a hand atop yours and returned your smile, "No, Milady, you're beautiful."

After a moment your turned back to look in the mirror and sighed. Kinu made a last minute check of your attire before she was sure you looked perfect. She smoothed out any wrinkles or creases that had gone unnoticed, and straightened out your obi. The outfit wasn't ceremony fancy, or 'trophy princess' flashy, but it was very obvious a lot of time and effort had gone into it and you appreciated every detail.

Once Kinu was sure everything was in its place, she escorted you to the mess hall where you undoubtedly turned heads. You caught the attention of the warlords who had been conversing with each other, and a few of the vassals gawked at you. You were not quite sure where your place was in all this, till Nobunaga waved you over to an empty seat between he and Masamune.

"I'll leave you to it, Milady," Kinu smiled before she turned to leave, but you stopped her by grabbing her arm, "You aren't going to eat with us?"

She shook her head, "The servants normally eat separately from the vassals and in private."

Your brows furrowed and you glanced at Nobunaga before looking back towards her. You had words, but she placed her hand on the one you had used to grab her and held it, "It's okay, Milday. It's this way so there are people to serve and bring the food out to the others," she giggled, "And there are no servants for servants, so we all just eat in the kitchen or in our rooms."

You grit your teeth for a split second, she had a point, "If you say so," before nodding to Kinu and turning to make your way to Nobunaga. You walked to the right of the mess hall and around all the tables. There were six of them in total, five were arranged columnar so one end was towards the mess hall entrance and the other towards the back of the room, with equal spacing between them; the sixth one was set up horizontally centered towards the back, each end pointing towards the left and right sides of the room respectfully.

The table at the back is where all the warlords were seated, with the exception of Mitsunari who sat between Hideyoshi (to his left) and Ieyasu (to his right at the farthest end). As you approached the table, you caught eyes with Mitsuhide who sat at the end on the side you approached from, and glared at him. He sent you an amused smile in return that made you bite back the urge to swipe at him the way you did three months ago.

"Why Princess," the kitsune's grin widened slightly.

Don't react.

"You look absolutely ravishing in that kimono."

You sent him a quiet hiss when you walked past, before taking your seat between the Demon Commander himself and the One Eyed Dragon, "Mitsuhide is right, lass. That kimono suits you very well."

You shot Masamune a sweet smile and shrugged your shoulders slightly, "Thank you, Masamune. I had no idea it was in my closet." You didn't even bother acknowledging Mitsuhide as you had made the silent decision to ignore him for the night.

"Yes," Nobunaga cut in to your conversation, getting your attention when he moved a stray curl behind your ear, "Your outfit choice for the night is very fitting." He brushed his fingers along the decorative faux flowers in your hair, an action that was oddly soothing, "Delicate like a flower," he moved one of the tassels from your obi's ties out of your lap, better exposing the dragon embroidery underneath it, "But fierce like a dragon."

His words, his actions, his smug ass smile was all very breathtaking and sent a nice tingle up your spine. "Thank you," you unintentionally purred, "Though to be honest, I really can't take any credit. The maids picked out everything, and did all the work." You picked up your tea mug, "All I did was stand there and look pretty."

"You're having tea?" Masamune shot you a look before picking up a spare saucer of saké, "Tonight is a night for celebration."

"I don't think my doctor would condone that," you looked to the blue-clad warlord and chuckled.

"He wouldn't," Ieyasu spoke up from the other end of the table and shot the two of you a glare.

"Sorry," you laughed bringing the tea to your lips, "Warden says no," before taking a sip and placing the mug down. Masamune clicked his tongue and shook his head, placing the saucer down before picking up his own cup of tea. You raised a brow at him, and he shrugged, "Solidarity."

"Masamune can't drink," Hideyoshi clarified. Ah, he can't handle liquor. The revelation made you giggle, and Masamune sent a glare towards Hideyoshi.

"You should try some of the Sashimi and Dumplings, Milady!" Mitsunari leaned over the table to look past Hideyoshi and Nobunaga, and towsrds you.

"No she shouldn't," Ieyasu interjected, "She is still recovering. No raw foods," he said with finality.

"Damn Salmonella," you grumbled. To be honest it was fine by you, you were hungry but due to Ieyasu's warning you didn't want to eat anything heavy, and meat in general was as heavy as food could get. "What?" Masamune looked at you with a confused face, and you sighed - remembering that a lot of food born illnesses didn't have names yet.

Oh that probably means that any time someone got sick from food poisoning, they blamed it on someone trying to kill them.

"Nothing," you couldn't hold back the chuckle that bubbled from your own personal thoughts.

Nobunaga reached for something that was infront of him, but closer to the other edge of the table and silently winced in pain. The quiet sound caught your attention and you watched him for a moment, not sure if you heard him right. He tried again, only for the same sound to escape him. Were you missing something? When did he get injured? You took the tray of sushi he had been reaching for and placed it next to his, earning a quiet thanks from him.

You briefly glanced around the room, to make sure your eyes weren't deceiving you, and surprisingly the subtle spectacle had not gotten the attention of any vassals around the room. Nobunaga seemed to be favoring his right arm and you narrowed your eyes at him.

"Are you okay?" You tried to keep the conversation quiet, but it was difficult with so many different conversations going on around the room.

"What?" He turned to look at you to better understand your question.

"I said, are you okay?" You spoke up a bit, hoping no one outside the warlords table had heard you.

"It's nothing," he stated simply, before brushing off your concerns for the rest of the feast. You watched him like a hawk while the others enjoyed eating and drinking, though you suspected the other warlords were doing it in moderation and you wondered why for a moment. The vassals however didn't hold back, they got loud halfway through the celebration, but their drunken banter put a smile on your face.

The group seemed really tightknit, more like a very large band of brothers than a garrison of soldiers under the command of different leaders. The night wound down when there was almost no food left on the tables for the vassals, and they left in groups of three or more to either head off to bed or find somewhere else to indulge themselves. Within an hour of the food depleting to nothing, the hall was empty save for Ieyasu, Mitsunari, Hideyoshi, Nobunaga, yourself, Masamune, and Mitsuhide.

Should you leave? You wanted to, but you felt awkward being the only one at the table to leave, before Mitsunari spoke up, "We should head to the council room before it gets too terribly late."

That caught your attention, and you perked up a bit, "You all are going to have a council meeting right now?"

"Not just us, you too."

Shut up Mitsuhide.

"But why?" You huffed, "I'm no one important."

"Nonsense," Mitsunari looked over towards you with a gentle smile, "You're the Oda Princess."

"Not a real one though," Ieyasu snarked.

"One of the topics we are going to cover tonight involves you," Nobunaga finally answered your question. Your brows furrowed, "Me?" You repeated, "How?"

Nobunaga chuckled before moving to stand, "Come to find out."

Ugh.

The other warlords followed his lead, and with a begrudging sigh, you trailed after them. You contemplated ditching them and just returning to your room for the night - being around so many lively people drained your energy. However, before you could linger too much on the idea, you entered a hall that looked familiar. Dang, here already.

When you entered, the warlords took their places at their assigned seats, while you followed Nobunaga up the dais, only to pick up your pillow and walk over to the spot next to Ieyasu, before plopping it and yourself down.

Nobunaga leaned back slightly and let out a sigh. You glanced around the room, before turning to look at the raven haired man, and leaned in his direction, "Are you really okay? You seemed stiff the entire feast."

"No," at least he was finally being honest, and you weren't going to have to jump through too many hoops to get an answer like you would most men. Your brows furrowed at this, "What's wrong?"

Before you could get an answer out of him, Hideyoshi cleared his throat and Nobunaga waved off your question. "I'll begin," Hideyoshi watched you till he was sure you wouldn't interrupt and then continued, "I have a report on the villains who attacked Lord Nobunaga at Honno-ji."

You perked up a bit, it had been a while since you heard of the incident. "Mitsunari," the brunette turned to his vassal, "The night of the attack, you sent several men to follow their tracks."

"Yes," he nodded in confirmation, "I had hoped to search for their whereabouts. However," Mitsunari paused for a moment to clear his throat, "Last night several bodies were delivered to the castle."

Your eyes widened, having a feeling you knew what he was going to say next.

"It was the men I had sent out."

You glanced around the room to gauge the others reactions. Most if not all of them remained calm and expressionless, though you couldn't say you were suprised. This type of thing was probably normal to them. People didn't exactly have a long life expectancy in this time period. You looked at Nobunaga through the corner of your eye as he held a disturbingly pleased smile in his face.

Asshole.

"They must have gotten close," he chuckled, "Apparently their leader doesn't want me learning his identity."

"We may be out of leads," Hideyoshi sounded resolute, and you could hear the anger growing in his voice, "but we won't give up the search. Those assassins won't be allowed to roam free."

"Hideyoshi, I want you and Mitsunari to come to my room afterwards to discuss this more." You looked at the Oda leader with a raised brow, though your eyes narrowed in suspicion - he was up to something.

"Yes, my lord," they both replied in sync.

"If I may, I have a report as well," Mitsuhide began to speak with a smile on his face, "The scouts we sent out to reconnotier the eastern front came back to us with rather curious rumors."

You raised a brow, partially because you had never heard that word used before in the place of recon or reconnaissance, and partly because you were actually interested in what the snake had to say. "It means to gather information, Princess," you shot a glare in Ieyasu's direction - half tempted to make his tea erupt again, but sadly he didn't have one.

"I know what it means," you snapped back at him, "You should be paying attention to the report and not whether or not I have a grasp on military jargon."

"They say the Dragon of Echigo is alive," Mitsuhide continued on as if he hadn't been interrupted, "And he is sheltering the Tiger of Kai back to life from his supposed death due to illness."

"Interesting," Nobunaga raised a hand to rub his chin in thought.

Dragon of Echigo? Your brows furrowed at the irony. How cute- a soft sigh interrupted your thoughts, and you looked at Ieyasu with an annoyed expression.

"The Dragon of Echigo is Kenshin Uesagi, Lord of Kasugayama Castle in Echigo. The Tiger of Kai is Shingen Takeda. They're brave generals who vied with Nobunaga for power. Both of them supposedly died some time back."

"Thanks, Wikipedia-" you snarked, but Ieyasu wouldn't stop till he had delivered an insult, "And incase you're wondering, your cluelessness was written all over your face. Try being quiet will you?"

"You should really get checked out, Ieyasu, it isn't healthy to be hearing voices that aren't there." And while your at it get your eyes checked too.

"Mitsuhide," your and Ieyasu's quiet squabble did nothing to interrupt Nobunaga and Mitsuhide's conversation, "Can you verify this?"

"Not yet. So far it's just been nothing but rumors. But I will bring you proof." You saw nothing wrong with this idea. If he went chasing rumors, he wouldn't be in Azuchi to pester you. Please go away, Mitsuhide.

"Hold on, Mitsuhide."

Ugh.

"Yes?" Mitsuhide turned his attention to Hideyoshi.

"Why are you leaving our lord's side to go chasing rumors?"

You had almost forgotten that Hideyoshi suspected Mitsuhide... Almost.

"It's simple. If they turn out to be true we need to know as soon as possible to plan our next move." Hideyoshi got quiet after Mitsuhide's reply, but that didn't mean that the brunette was backing down. Your gaze shifted between the two as the silently glared at eachother from across the room.

"Can you promise you're not planning anything?"

The whole argument made you want to groan outloud, but you refrained from doing so. You knew for a fact, the last thing Mitsuhide wanted to do was betray Lord Nobunaga - he just liked to play Devil's advocate.

"Anything?" A sly smile crept onto Mitsuhide's face, "Could you be more specific, Hideyoshi? I'm a little slow on the uptake, you see."

You wanted to slap that smile off his face and tell him to quit his shit, but you also wondered why he was trying so hard to look like he was up to something. You kept your gaze on the kitsune, examining him for answers.

"You know what I'm talking about. I need to know you are not planning to betray our Lord to his enemies."

"Would you trust me if I told you I wasn't?" Mitsuhide chuckled, "What's to prevent me from lying or changing my mind, Hideyoshi?"

"Mitsuhide," Hideyoshi spoke through gritted teeth, "why does a man of your talents insist on such-"

"Enough, both of you," at the proverbial snap of his fingers, Nobunaga's command caused the both of them to cease their arguing. Once the room was silent, Nobunaga spoke once again, "Mitsuhide, I give you permission to scout Echigo. Ascertain whether the tiger and dragon are alive or dead, and what's going on a Kasugayama Castle."

"I understand, my lord," Mitsuhide bowed slightly with a nod of his head. You glanced at Nobunaga for a split second before gazing over at Hideyoshi. He seemed like he had a lot more say on the matter, but kept his opinions to himself after that.

You remembered the first day you met everyone. Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide had an argument almost exactly like this that time as well. Hideyoshi wanted to hear Mitsuhide say that he wasn't plotting behind their backs, but like today, Mitsuhide was insistent on antagonizing him. You once again wondered why Mitsuhide didn't just tell the truth, he was loyal to Nobunaga. Fiercely so- so loyal infact he had come after you knowing full well you had inhuman capabilities. There had to be some sort of angle to this.

"My plan was to begin an invasion of the western territories," with that out of the way, Nobunaga continued the council with a smile, "but I may have found bigger prey. Any activity from Echigo can't be overlooked. Make swift preparations for war. Masamune, Ieyasu. Gather the troops."

Both the one eyed warrior and the blond looked to their leader and nodded, "Yes, my lord."

"The rumors better be true," Masamune held a playful smile on his face, "I've been waiting for some action."

"Princess," Nobunaga's voice brought your attention to him, "It's your turn."

"Hm?" You raised a questioning brow to him, and wontered if you should make a smart ass comment but before you could, he answered your silent question. "I have orders for you."

"No," your turned up your nose at him, an action that only made his smirk widen, "I haven't given them yet."

"Don't care," you turned your head away from him, emphasizing the fact that you weren't having any of it.

"I enjoy your spirit but listen to what I have to say first." You still didn't turn to look at him, and after a moment he continued, "I hadn't mentioned this before, but I suffered an injury in the previous battle."

That got your attention. You turned to look at him and narrowed your eyes skeptically.

"When you put down that revolt?" Ieyasu's voice cut through your silence, and brought your gaze to him before you looked back at Nobunaga. Why was he barely making all this known now? It's been three months, you felt like this is something that should have been delt with long before?

Unless-

"Yes. A glancing blow from one of the arrows, but it has yet to heal."

You couldn't even say if it was true or not, you had been absent for a majority of the battle due to having to deal with a small skirmish of your own. "However," the raven haired warlord continued, "I must be in perfect condition for the next battle. And so I will be going on retreat to the springs."

Your glare only hardened as you watched him, silently searching for more answers, because you knew there was something he wasn't telling you.

"My dearest Lucky Charm will be coming with me."

"What?" Just like that you snapped out of your thoughts, "Why?"

"Isn't that nice," Mitsuhide chuckled from the other side of the room, "Congratulations on being chosen for such an important mission."

"I'm counting on you to not fall for our Lord too quickly, lass," Masamune jested at you in a friendly manner, a smug smirk etched on to his features.

"No one has answered my question yet???" You looked at the others confused.

"Princess," Hideyoshi tried to reassure you, you think, "remember to serve Lord Nobunaga as I would," or give you tips, you guess.

"But why???" You raised a brow at the brunettes comment. Bad choice of words, Hideyoshi, but then again he doesn't know the two of you nearly screwed.

"You sustained serious injuries as well, did you not?" Nobunaga was talking to you as if the answer should be obvious.

"Well yes but-" he didn't let you finish, "Then the hot springs will benefit you as well." He nodded, as if the action could physically bring a close to the conversation.

"Is it just going to be you and me?" You sighed, knowing there was nothing you could do to change his mind, so you may as well get as many details as you can.

"Yes, if word of this injury got out, there could be another revolt. For secrecy, I will take no guards and go with you alone."

Oh even you knew that was bull. Nobunaga was many things, but stupid was not one of them. He had to know going alone would be dangerous. Sure, he had you, but none were aware of what you were - save for Mitsuhide.

Unless of course-

"We leave in the morning. See that you're prepared, Princess."

He's trying to make himself look like an easy target. But what would he have to gain from this?

You gaped at him slightly when it occured to you.

He suspects a mole amongst his ranks and he's trying to draw them out by making himself look like an easy target.

Nobunaga was giving you a teasing smile.

If nothing happens, then he knows his inner circle is safe and the traitor is lower in the chain of command.

You looked around the room, examining the men you had though you'd come to know. They had all seemed fairly loyal in your eyes. It was obvious from the way Ieyasu used to birate you about your interactions with Nobunaga that he respects him very much. Hideyoshi practically worshiped the ground Nobunaga walked on. Mitsunari's loyalty to the Lord in question was second only to Hideyoshi, so it was a given that by association it wasn't him either. Masamune was always so eager to fight for Nobunaga and for some reason their relationship struck you as brotherly, and Mitsuhide had proven to you earlier that day how loyal he truly was to his lord.

Who could he possibly think it is?

"Close your mouth or you'll catch flies," Ieyasu snipped. You snapped you mouth shut and shot him a glare.

"You should probably start packing," Hideyoshi called your attention away from the blond and your face scrunched up slightly in distaste, "I guess, since you're leaving me with no other choice."

Nobunaga nodded at your words, as you stood up to head to your room. Like hell you were packing, more like staying up and thinking of a way to get the heck out of here.

"Kinu will be bringing you your last dose of medicine for the day," Ieyasu called after you., and you loudly groaned before closing the doors to the council room behind you.

When you arrived to your quarters, Kinu was already there with your medicine and a glass of water, as well as a few extra maids to assist you in removing your complicated garb. You allowed them to change you into your night attire first since the smell of the medicine assured you that this glass was even more concentrated before the last. Obviously the idea of shaking liquid medicine before giving it so it was equally distributed in each glass was still a foreign concept, and you could only assume the medicine was getting more potent because whatever was still in it that was solid had settled to the bottom and you may be nearly finished with the first batch.

You almost wanted to spit out the last sip. It had an unpleasant gritty texture to it and it felt like it left a thin film over the roof of your mouth and your tongue. Kinu quickly handed you your glass of water, and you eagerly chugged it before handing it back to her and politely asking for more.

You straightened out your night robe and turned to Kinu after she poured more water in your mug. The other maids bowed you, taking your used clothing before leaving the room and closing the door behind them. "How was the feast, Milady?" She smiled and handed you the ceramic cup.

"Good," was all you could really say. Of course you had tasted better food, but what could you expect from a world that had yet to obtain the variety of spices and cooking techniques of modern day life. "It wasn't what I was expecting," you chuckled, before taking a sip of your water "Lots of drinking and marry banter from the vassals. Don't know why I expected it to be stiff and stuffy."

Kinu covered her giggle with her hands, "Of course not, Princess. Banquets like this are often to help the lord's and their vassals unwind, it also helps boost morale if it's in celebration of something, such as your getting better."

"Yes well," you moved to sift though your closet, not entirely sure if you should really pack, "It was great up until the end."

Kinu tilted her head in a confused manor, and you glanced back at her when she remained silent, before turning back to your closet and explaining what you meant, "Lord Nobunaga wants me to go to the hot springs with him tomorrow-"

You were cut of my the maids failed attempt at muffling her excited squeals. And you turned to look at her, a smile creeping on to your face at her infectious joy, "Oh, Princess! That's wonderful!"

Your brows furrowed and you snickered, "How?"

"Well, Milady," she hastily walked over to you with an extra hop in her step, and made an effort to speak a bit more quietly, though it failed miserably, "I'm sure you're aware of the Lords fondness of you."

Fondness?

You scoffed and turned to look at Kinu, "He's only doing it because-" you paused, your smile dropping from your face as did not want to tell her your suspicions on why he is really doing all this, and you also didn't want to tell her he was 'injured' in fear of spoiling his little experiment. She looked at you expectantly, "Because...?"

You cleared your throat, "He thinks the hot spring will do me some good, and he thinks I would enjoy getting out of the castle for once."

Your little white lie only made her squeal again and you rolled your eyes, smile once again returning to your face as you pulled out a simple kimono off the rack. The material felt light and the had a little more give than most, it would be perfect for traveling, maybe. Your weren't sure. It was hard to say since you didn't know how exactly you would be traveling. You assumed by horse, and you've never ridden on a horse in a kimono for extended periods of time.

"That would be good for the trip there, Princess," oh yay, you made a good guess, "Would it be alright if I pack your things for you?" She stuttered slightly, afraid you would take her request the wrong way, "N-not that I don't think you know how to dress, it's just-"

"Kinu." She snapped her mouth shut, "I would appreciate it."

Just like that her excitement returned, "Oh! Thank you, Milady!" She hopped to your closet, taking your place when you moved out of the way. With a relaxed smile you made your way to your futon, slowly laying down onto the mat while Kinu flitted through your closet for everything she thought would be nice for you to take. She would pull out a kimono, talk out the pros and cons outloud before putting it back and picking out another. You talked with her while you could, asking questions and agreeing with some of her opinions, till all you could respond to her with was, "Mhmm..."

As your responses became quieter and quieter, she turned around to look at you and smiled at the image of you curled up beneath your blanket - the only thing visible was your head from your cheek bones up. She continued sorting through your closet till she was finished and then took her leave.

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