#i slept so well. i got so much done. i feel less insane now even though my to do list is long | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

copiousloverofcopia · 2 years ago

Text

Because I am INSANE here is another Chapter fic I have started featuring Copia and OC Astrid!

We will see where this goes because I have some people telling me include my signature stuff and others who want it left out. Feel free to tell me what you'd like to see in the comments!

Something Blue

Sister of Sin Astrid is anything but excited for Cardinal Copia to return home from tour. As his assistant, she leads a life of monotony and boredom from which she longs for more. When the Cardinal returns, anointed as Papa Emeritus IV, she is faced with an unwanted and unavoidable situation predicated on her family's position within the church. Will Astrid rise to what has been asked of her or will she destroy everything and leave it all behind?

Also available HERE on A03!

Commissions currently closed! They will open up again once I finish editing cosplay photos from my sessions 😅

Anyways here we got ghesties!!!

Below the cut for space

She smoothed over the crisp folds made in her black sheets. Lastly, fluffing up her well-slept on pillows before heading to the refectory. The smell of freshly baked bread was already wafting up the stairs from inside the kitchen—and a dutiful sister was never late for breakfast. Astrid was done up, smug with how well her mascara and eyeliner had come together for a change. Her porcelain pale face–perfectly dewy, with cheeks that blushed a delicate shade of rose. Her habit had been freshly ironed and veil well affixed to her dark navy hair. Carefully selected strands, falling down and framing her face. Adding to her natural beauty as she entered the hall.

Today was a special day for the Abbey. The Cardinal would be returning from tour, and tonight the siblings and clergy would be ripe with celebration. Everyone was preparing for the festivities–not only for this triumphant return, but a special announcement to be made at the night’s celebratory dinner. Despite the expected fanfare, Astrid couldn’t care less about it.

Had it not been for her determination to show Cirrus what she had been missing since their breakup, Astrid would have absent-mindedly gotten drunk and ignored the celebrations all together. Enjoying the spoils so generously donated from Secondo’s stash, much more than rejoicing in the old man’s return. She was the Cardinal’s assistant. Day in and day out, watching him work the finances—a prosaic job bestowed so lovely upon her by the Deacon Patrick. An old friend of the family who so happened to be the head of Sibling Affairs.

She had wanted something exciting to do after officially taking her vows. It was her family’s idea however that she worked with the Cardinal, and of course she couldn’t say no. Ideas and dreams of a more interesting life—crushed with her appointment. There would be no working in the garden with Papa Primo, surrounded by the beauty of exotic flowers and his mystical practices with herbs and spells. Nor would she get the chance to bend down in low-cut garments in front of the Third as she tended to his “needs”.

No, all the potential for something more intriguing, ruined for the sake of giving the old man someone to double check his grammar on expensive reports and verify that budgets reached Sister Imperator in a timely fashion. It was a wonder to her that she hadn’t already gone stark-raving mad. From the moment they gave her the position she longed for more. Disappointed that she was destined to live out her days in monotony. In service to the Ministry and to others, unable to make many choices for herself.

It was unavoidable, almost as much as an Emeritus son's ascension to the Papacy. Astrid’s father was a high clergyman for years before his passing, and her mother too, came from a bloodline that spanned back centuries. A family that helped to found the Satanic church in Italy—now pushing for her to continue her studies and move up within the ranks of the clergy. It was assumed that one day she would become an abbess or even a sister akin to the likes of Sister Imperator. A woman of high regard and power.

Either way, she seemed to be expected to take up a mantle set out for her by a family she barely knew. Astrid was angry that she’d be unable to truly forge a future of her own. Her job with Copia, a reminder of just how tedious and unexciting the Ministry could be. That life for her was meant to be full of hard work and appeasement—masking her own desires.

Copia himself was a kind man and Astrid bore no ill-will toward him. Although she could do without his obsession with his rats and other strange habits. Like the time she caught him riding around his tricycle at 3am—not the sight she expected to see when Cirrus and her had crept downstairs to fool around in the pews. She was ambivalent towards him, more caught up in her own misery than giving him much attention. Not really friends, but friendly one might say–though she could tell that the Cardinal felt differently about her.

She paid it no mind and Copia was too much of a gentleman to bring it up, but It was a relief when Sister Imperator had convinced Papa Nihil to appoint him as head of Ghost, leaving Astrid to be responsibility free for a bit while he was gone. Not only would the desk work be on hold, but Cirrus too would be gone. The break up between them, leaving a bad taste in Astrid’s mouth. One she was glad to be rid of as the tour began.

Today however, they were back. Any minute now, the ghouls of the band along with the Cardinal would arrive and she needed to hurry up if she wanted to stuff something into her face before they returned. When she had finally reached the refectory, Astrid grabbed herself a cappuccino and bowl of granola before sitting down on the bench just at the front of the room. Watching the main entrance from the doorway. Only a few moments passed before the inevitable cracking open of the door.

“Argh why does this shit seem to get heavier every time I have to carry it.” Dew hissed, trying to reposition his pack higher up on his back. His tail, swishing around fast from side to side. A sure sign of annoyance as the other ghouls began filling in behind him.

“Quit your blubbering. We are on break now Dew, no more luggage for a while.” Aether said, rolling his eyes as he lugged in his own bags through the door.

“I don’t have any problem.” laughed Mountain, who picked both Dew and his bags up and walked them further inside. Effortless like he’d lifted a tissue from the ground. The other ghouls laughed a bit as they entered, watching Dew struggling to free himself from Mountain’s grasp. Astrid, almost choking on her coffee as we watched the slinky ghoul drop to the ground.

It was amazing to her just how much like family the ghouls were with each other. She was always envious of how well they got along and just how much they all seemed to truly care about one another. She was also not shy about discovering how well they seemed to all be in the bedroom. Dating Alpha some years back before her and Cirrus had gotten together. She continued watching them as she took her empty bowl to the counter and threw away her napkin, next coming Cumulus and the Cardinal.

Astrid noticed almost immediately something was different about him. Copia seemed happy to be home, which was all together expected, but his smile—it had changed. More confident than she had remembered. He glanced towards her, nodding to acknowledge he’d seen her before Astrid sent back a lackluster nod of her own.

As her eyes shifted away, she caught sight of Cirrus walking inside. The tour seemed to have done wonders for her. The ghoulette’s ashen skin glowing as she wrapped her arm around Sunshine, kissing her fully and deep as they walked inside. The two of them giggling together like they’d spent the whole tour held up in bed. Astrid’s blood began to boil at the sight. Her anger and jealousy seething through every pore.

She took off out of her seat, rushing through the entryway to the refectory and down the hall towards the chapel. Copia watched, listening to the conversation of the ghouls and a few of the siblings that had come to greet them at the door. He could feel something was wrong. Though Astrid had never allowed him to get close, it didn’t take a genius to see the pain in her eyes.

“Everything ok Papa.” Aether asked, noticing the concerned look on Copia’s face. He handed his bag over to Aether, as the ghoul insisted, and gave him a small smile before speaking.

“I—ah…I think I will go check on Sister Astrid. She seems upset.” he explained.

“Ha la Luna storta. I wouldn’t worry about it.” chimed in Marcus, a brother of sin who had been waiting for them to return. Copia started to walk off, watching as Astrid disappeared towards the chapel.

“Papa, Sister Imperator is expecting you in her office.” Rain reminded him. Copia waved his hand to shrug off Rain’s concern. He needed to know what had the sister so upset.

“No worries…I will head up there soon Rain…” he assured them as he took off towards the chapel.

How dare she move on so fast…fucking bitch. Glad I was just so easily replaced, Astrid raged. Her knees hitting the hassock as she began to pray for strength. Lucifer knows she didn’t want Cirrus back. The sister’s affections for the ghoulette, waning fast over the course of their rather dysfunctional relationship. But the idea of her moving on so easily, however, really pissed Astrid off.

She felt herself begin to cry. The eye make-up she had prided herself on, beginning to run down her cheeks as she failed to hold them back. Just behind her was the sound of the door. A small creak that echoed gently in the room, alerting her to another’s presence.

Astrid quickly wiped away the tears and pulled herself up onto the seat of the pew. Her heart, racing as she prepared for the worst. Hoping that Cirrus hadn’t followed her in. That no one had seen her losing her grip.

“Cara mia?” A familiar voice spoke, as a warm body took its place beside her. Astrid looked over to see Copia sitting there. His face, full of concern and empathy.

“It’s nothing, Cardinal. How was the tour?” she asked, hoping that Copia would be too polite to push further.

“Glorious cara, there is truly nothing like it. The ghouls and I have grown quite close over the past 2 years. I honestly am very excited to do it again once I have had a chance to work on the next album of course.” he smiled.

“Oh wow…I’m surprised that the clergy were that impressed, but they must be if they are letting you do another tour cycle.” Astrid said innocently. All the frontmen of Ghost she had seen were Papas after retirement. Terzo was the last and then Copia was chosen reportedly as a last stitch effort to mix things up by Sister Imperator who felt the Emeritus sons weren’t pulling in enough support for the Dark Lord.

“Ah yes well…” Copia began, Astrid sensing that her words could be taken as an insult. She wasn’t the best at thinking before speaking.

“Sorry Cardinal I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s alright Astrid, I take no offense. Anyways I am happy to be home for now. I missed you while on tour.” he told her, trying to change the subject–his words still however very much true.

“Oh? Why is that?” she laughed.

“Well there was no one there to make sarcastic comments or joke around with me—except Dew and Aether, but if I am being honest cara, I prefer your humor.” he explained, his words warm and comforting.

“Heh…well then, I missed you too.” Astrid sniffled, no longer caring if the Cardinal knew the real reason she had come to the chapel. He was a compassionate man after all and, following his kind words, she felt she could confess her sin. Be absolved by him in some way to help her make it through the night’s celebrations.

“Cardinal…”

“Sister Astrid…”

“The real reason I came in here…well…it’s because of Cirrus. I'm angry and I needed to be alone.” she admitted, Copia’s brows raising up on high his forehead with her words.

“Cirrus? I thought things were—”

“They are… they have been. I just…I just didn’t think she’d move on so soon.”

“Ah, si…I understand. This thing between her and Sunshine is making you feel insecure, eh?” he asked her. How astute he was, a trait that both impressed and irritated Astrid to the core. She narrowed her gaze, unable to hide her discontent from Copia, she then turned to face away. Staring forward at the large stone grucifix that sat atop the sanctuary.

“I’m just tired of feeling unimportant.” she sighed, once again wiping away tears.

“You are not unimportant cara. I certainly need you.” Copia laughed a bit, trying to lighten the mood. His comment made no difference to Astrid. She was mad and hurt, nothing he was going to say would change it. He didn’t want him to be upset either but being unable to help. Astrid, beginning to feel as though she shouldn’t have said anything.

“Yeah.” was all she could muster, becoming quiet as the two of them sat together in the pews.

“Well…While I know this won’t make your pain go away sister, you are very much needed.” Copia smiled, reaching over to touch her hand. Astrid instinctively tensed, looking over to him confusedly.

“Cardinal—” she began before Copia cut her off.

“Shhh…Astrid. I will share a secret with you, ok? But you must tell no one until after dinner tonight.” Copia whispered, his head swiveling around to make sure the two of them were truly alone. Astrid’s demeanor changed. Finally, something exciting, even if it was a small secret between her and her boss.

“Promise, my lips are sealed.” she promised. Copia smiled once again and began to look a bit nervous. Astrid, growing more intrigued by the second. Finally, after what felt like hours, even if it had only been a minute, he told her.

“I am now Papa. As of now I am Papa Emeritus the Fourth.”

When Copia had left Astrid in the chapel, she was floored. As he shut the door behind him, leaving at the behest of Aether and Rain, she couldn’t believe it. How? Why? They made Copia…Papa?

The choice to her seemed to be completely out of left field. Copia was a smart man, but different from the others. He wasn’t even Papa Nihil’s son so how could he be an “Emeritus”. None of it made sense, but in true Astrid fashion her thoughts immediately went to how it would impact her. Would she have to change positions, or would she now be a Papal assistant?

The thoughts of Copia ascending now thrilling her. If she were to be Papa’s assistant that would open up way more opportunities for things like travel and parties and excitement. Astrid was all but giddy now with the news, hoping that it would play out like she’d envisioned in her mind.

As she left the chapel, she decided the evening couldn’t come fast enough. Now there would be cause for celebration and the night hadn’t been completely ruined by seeing Cirrus after all. She took off back to the dorms. Wanting to pick out an outfit for such a special occasion—having the insider information no one else had, when she was stopped by the Deacon on her way in.

“Sister Astrid.” he said as he stood in front of the door. A tall man, thin and sharp looking in his Diaconal vestments. Black alb and stole. His black dalmatic adorned in red grucifixes along its center. Clearly he had been conferred his position during the time of Papa Emeritus the First’s reign.

“Deacon Patrick, for what do I owe the honor?” she asked, laughing a bit under her breath. He was like an uncle to her. Her mother, off overseas with her second husband, leaving the Deacon to watch over her like a second father.

“I am to fetch you and bring you to Sister Imperator’s office at once agnellino.” he smiled back, walking over and wrapping his arm over her shoulder, mindful of the fall of her veil.

“Oh? That's strange.” Astrid hummed, hoping it had to do with Copia’s new appointment…and she was right.

When she walked into Sister’s office, she was hit with a chill. She had half a mind to think it was Sister herself causing it. The woman always was standoffish and all together cold to those who resided beneath her in station. When she rounded the chairs facing the desk, she saw Copia already sitting in one, anxiously stroking his mustache as both her and the Deacon took their seats.

The three of them sat together in silence for several minutes. All looking toward one another but never speaking. “I hope I haven’t kept you all waiting long.” came a voice from behind them. Astrid immediately recognized it as Sister’s, though she was used to it being a bit more like a bark than the calm tone it was today.

“Not at all. We have only just arrived, though I can’t speak for Papa.” the Deacon laughed, bowing his head in reverence towards Copia. Copia only nodded back, still looking anxious—almost child-like in Sister’s presence.

“Good…ah! I see you’ve brought with you Sister Astrid.” she beamed, a cold chill shooting down the young sister’s spine. It was unnerving to see her excited about something and the way she reacted immediately to seeing her, set Astrid on edge.

“Of course Sister, I was told you asked to see me?”

“Yes…I am so glad you came. Well then, I don’t see any sense in resting on ceremony. I wanted to have this little meeting to discuss things prior to dinner this evening as it will be on the minds and, I'm sure, the lips of every sibling before sundown.” Her words, puzzling the three of them.

“You mean Copia becoming Papa?” Deacon Patrick asked.

“Well of course that…but there’s something else I needed to discuss specifically with you two.” she explained staring straight at Copia and Astrid. Copia’s eyes widened, it had to be something big for her to be carrying on like this. Astrid could feel her heart beginning to pound as she waited to hear whatever it was the Sister would tell them.

“Yes Sister, go on with it then please.” Copia asked, trying still to find his voice when it came to her.

“Yes…As Papa Emeritus the Fourth there are obligations to be upheld as I am sure you are all aware. This was not a decision made lightly by the Ministry, but with Papa Nihil’s other sons all having a go at it and still managing to fall short…changes needed to be made.”

“Am I missing something here Sister? You make it sound as if—” the Deacon began before Sister Imperator cut him off.

“As if Copia is Nihil’s son? That is because he is Patrick. Copia is Nihil and MY son.” Sister proclaimed. Astrid and Deacon Patrick audibly gasped, jaws hitting the proverbial floor with the revelation.

“So that means…” Astrid said, trying to work it all out in her overwhelmed state.

“That means that he is the rightful next heir to the miter and always has been because of his birthright. Copia has known for some time, but now it will become common knowledge since I am sure since the ghouls don’t know how to keep their mouths shut. That being said, it brings me to you Sister Astrid.

“What about her?” the Deacon asked.

“Well you see because of his new position we are now in need of some other adjustments to her position as well.” Sister Imperator continued. This was it, Astrid thought to herself. Finally she would be getting in on some excitement. Hoping to kiss the paperwork goodbye, leaving it behind for something greater.

“I am very excited to hear that.” Astrid nodded. Sister smiled back at her, sitting down at her desk before steepling her fingers.

“Cardi—Papa. Now that you have ascended it is by both mine and the Ministry’s judgment that you be betrothed, acquiring a Prime Mover.”

“I’m sorry, a what?” Copia asked her. The Sister took in a deep breath, looking directly at Astrid. All three of them—Copia, Astrid, and the Deacon sat pupils blown, waiting for her to continue.

“A Prime Mover Copia—a wife. One day you will be expected to carry on the Papal line. None of the others are in a position to oblige and that leaves the task to you.” Sister explained. Copia lowered his head, looking into his lap accepting what she was saying to him with a nod. Both Astrid and the Deacon left in shock.

“Oh you can’t mean.” Astrid began, realizing now what her new position was supposed to be.

“You have been chosen by the ministry to be Copia’s Prime Mover. The two of you will be wed within the next few weeks, once things have settled down a bit and we have had a chance to plan things out.” Sister said, flipping through some paperwork on her desk. Immediately both the Copia and Astrid stood up from their chairs.

“Sister, I am not sure Sister Ast—” Copia protested, knowing that despite his own feelings, Astrid had not once given him any indication she’d felt the same.

“This has to be a joke?!” Astrid snapped, her blood running cold with madness. How dare they just decide who she would marry, that she would bear children—that she’d be stuck playing Suzy homemaker with the awkward tricyclist of an old man.

“I assure you it is not a joke Sister. You and Copia will be wed by the end of the Autumnal Equinox. Is that understood!” Sister Imperator hissed back, her force like a knife held to everyone’s throat. Both Copia and the Deacon stared at Astrid, awaiting what she’d say next.

“I—I can’t.” she cried, running from her chair and out the door of the office. Tears pouring forth like rain in a storm. Her heart aching and her mind swirling with anger. Copia got up from his seat, nodding to the Deacon as he attempted to make his own way out.

“And just where do you think you are going?” Sister Imperator asked him, eyebrow cocked and smug look on her face.

“I am going to talk to her. She is meant to be my bride Sister, is she not?” he said sharply. Sister only nodded to him as he left on his way to talk to Astrid—his bride to be.

Notes:

Ha la Luna storta-Her moon is crooked (An Italian saying for someone being in a bad mood)

Hassock- kneeler (place where one kneels to pray)

Dalmatic- vestment worn by Deacons, similar to priests chasuble

Alb- vestment worn by clergymen to cover street garments for ceremony.

Stole- scarf like vestment worn by clergymen

Agnellino- little lamb

36 notes · View notes

k9effect · 1 year ago

Note

ok you’ve got me thinking about hangclone now, never thought of it before but now i have to know LMAO. how do you think they handle being in very different ranks and in the context of the dagger squad becoming a permanent fixture in nevada (or wherever they are idek haha) (or however they are stationed in your fic) and cyclone being a senior officer with hangman under his command more or less?

i always think about this with icemav but obviously there’s next to no age gap, only rank and not always in direct links with each outer with mav being off at dark star.

regardless of if the ship is my fave or not i LOVE character dynamics and this one is a doozy for interesting dynamics haha so i love hearing your thoughts about it!

yesssss ive got youuu lol

in my fic its kind of like, immediately post mission, so they're on leave for a couple months and relatively safe from prying eyes. beau has done this sort of arrangement a few times in the past, one with another guy in the navy so he knows how to keep it all on the downlow and separate the whole idea of them being superior and subordinate and the rank gap etc etc but jake is PANICKING after a few days loll like that's his admiral??? hows he supposed to handle this??? and he cant even talk to JAVY about it all like oh god he's fucked. but beau is super nice and helping him work through it all, offering him outs and no strings attached, reassuring him that their dynamic outside of work wont influence them at work, that jake's achievements will be his own and not a result of favouritism etc y'know?

I've also got this whole scene in my head off jake showing up at beau's house cause he's kind of a wreck and needs beau to help calm him down but beau's got his kids over for dinner (a boy and a girl, both in their mid 20s) and jake just, feels like he's intruding, he honestly didn't realise beau had been married or had kids. but beau offers him a seat at the table, offers him a plate of dinner, offers his attention and comfort and jake latches onto it all. he feels awkward at dinner, making small conversation with the kids. he helps wash up after dinner and the kids head home that night, they have work in the morning, but jake can't quite manage to leave, so beau offers him a place in his bed as well, holding him close and jake has never slept so well.

i just,,, raaaaa theres so much to them, they're so complex. two people at two very different points in their lives just sorta,, coming together and realising they work. they REALLY work. and its nice, and they're happy, and their jobs be damned, they'll make this happen

i also have like, so many thoughts on like??? omegaverse aus ahahh its all snowballed in my head I'm so insane for them dude

#sam answers #anonymous #hangclone #top gun #top gun maverick #hangman #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #cyclone #beau cyclone simpson #beau simpson

17 notes · View notes

ssreeder · 2 years ago

Note

Hi sreedy! I finished your little happy chappy yesterday, and I have opinions that want to be expressed.

Firstly, a polite message from past me, yesterday night, who just finished the chapter:

BA SING FUCKING SE?????? YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! UNBELIEVABLE! OUTRAGEOUS! INSANE! THAT'S WHAT YOU ARE! YOU ARE GONNA DRUG HIM AGAIN? "wHaT wOuLd mAkE hIm bEg" bitch don't you even try. I will feed your kneecaps to my fucking dog in front of you. Glad to hear they're all gonNA BE IN THE SAME FUCKING CITY THOUGH! SOME REAL COMFORT THERE! AND CAN JET JUST PISS OFF FOR ONE GOD DAMN MINUTE!? I hope the guilt eats him from inside out.

Now let's continue with a... less emotional message from future me, who has slept a night over it and calmed down a little:

Okay, hi again, sorry for past me's yelling but in their defense you did kind of deserve it. The pillow was not okay.

I don't like this Jet much and every time I remember he wrote that letter anger fills me and I just want to yell at him, take a deep breath, pinch my nose and sit him down amd give him a very sarcastic lecture. (I heavily support any more dirt on this guy and that comment about the Kyoshi face paint making his eyebrows pop is definetly my Highlight of the week)

Ba Sing Se? Seriously Sreedy, I don't know whether I love or hate that. Like: fuck yes! It's excruciating! But also: fuck no! it's excruciating! Good chances that Azula finds him first though.

I am still very mad that they have liquid bending suppressants now because that means Zuko will be afraid of needles and we don't know what this thing does yet.

Jet is such a little bitch I hate it but I love him. You really do all the characters so well I could talk about this for days.

Suki? SUKII!!! I love her but hun, you can't fix him. I admire your confidence, but there is a lot more going on with him than you think. *Insert that one Nick Nelson scene on the beach with his Mom*

Anyways, Glad to hear that Quon is not as bad as Zhao was. He just thinks Zuko is challenging and interesting instead of feeling like jerking off after being done with him. Quon emotionally distances himself from his prisoner, I like that in a man /j. No but seriously, I'm very glad Quon doesn't hurt him entirely for his personal satisfaction.

Maybe I'll slide into your askbox and drop a few more opinions in the next weeks (probably), but until then:

Ly, still no kneecaps for you, take care of yourself and hydrate, take as many breaks as you need and please for the love of god do not kill Shen.

*Quon & I both rocking no kneecaps and feeling better than ever*

Haha… Jet is officially the main character of LIAB because I think more people comment about him than any other character. & his eyebrows are always popping. ;)

Didn’t you hear the news? Ba sing se is where the party’s at. Everyone’s invited.

I don’t know if Suki wants to fix Sokka, which is nice, I think she just wants to support him and make sure he is alright. But Sokka is being sketch right now so good luck girl…

I think Quon would rather just execute Zuko and be done with it but he has to play the game. Luckily the game isn’t with Zuko he is merely a pawn, so Quon won’t be emotionally invested in any sick torture or anything because he doesn’t really care haha.

I hope to see you in my askbox at least I know I can hunt you down on discord to get my kneecaps back eventually.

#you inspired a scene next chapter #I’ll give you a shout in the authors notes #haha you always yell at me so I couldn’t help it #no no no don’t worry it’s not killing Shen #but no promises #Shen is looking pretty easy to kill right about now #;)#:D #this is what you get for interacting with me #ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?!?! :):):):):):))))#liab #itf #ask #zukosmissingkidney

13 notes · View notes

graftisms · 2 years ago

Photo

BEACH HUT CONFESSIONALS 09: JOSHUA VARGAS DAY TWENTY-EIGHT

what are your thoughts on max & dejan’s exit last night? why didn’t you vote for them?

“ one of them fucked my girl and the other one fucked my face up... though i guess i share some of the blame in the latter, ” he smiles sheepishly, and after getting a look from a producer, “ —i was defending myself ! that guy was a psycho, he should’ve been out of here days ago. good fucking riddance to them both. ”

how are you feeling about the start of casa amor?

“ pretty bad timing for me, personally. i don’t really know where i stand with jenny, and i definitely don’t know where i stand with naomi, so to not to get to have those conversations before being thrown into a villa with a bunch of new girls sucks a lot. not to mention all my friends being in the other villa, except for marcus, who will probably spend the whole time getting laid and spying on me for naomi. i don’t know, at least it’s a change of scenery. ”

are there any new islanders that have caught your attention? who?

“ is that a serious question ? ” he laughs. “ let’s see : there’s the dallas cowboys cheerleader, the field hockey player. there’s mali, which... she’s going to be trouble, i can already tell. it’s also great to see layla again, i feel like she’s one of the biggest highlights of casa. i've always got along well with her, so it’ll be nice to have someone else in my corner. i really like that miles guy too, honestly, though it being him and all these girls... he’s so brave for having to stay away from them. they’re all so hot, it’s insane. ”

are there any new islanders you don’t see yourself vibing with?

“ i don’t think valerie likes me very much, for whatever reason. said i’m not her type, though i don’t know if i believe that. it’s a blessing in disguise, even if she’s hot. i can handle one less bombshell trying to get with me. ”

do you think that your head could be turned?

“ uh, i don’t really know, honestly. i think the better question is should i get my head turned or not ? obviously jenny and i have been really good, but finding out she slept with max kind of changed things for me, i don’t know. or maybe it’s the timing of that happening around the time naomi and i had that talk last night. i’ve been trying to give jenny a real shot, but i don’t think we want the same things. and honestly ? i don’t see her head not turning, as long as there are guys that are interested in her there. but naomi... maybe i’m getting my hopes up, because she’s done this to me before, but last night when we were talking, she kind of made it seem like i still had a shot there. and if i do, i want to take it. but y’know, now i won’t see her for a week and who knows what she’s doing there. i’m sure she has a line of suitors or whatever, knowing her. and that’s ignoring the dylan of it all, so... who knows what’s going to happen there. i’ll try to keep an open mind with these bombshells, but i also don’t want to do anything that could potentially screw things up with her, even if i don’t really owe her anything right now. ” a pause. “ sorry, did i even answer the question ? ”

what do you think your ‘other half’ is up to in the other villa right now? how are you feeling about them?

josh shifts uncomfortably in his seat. it’s a lot easier to talk about naomi than it is jenny. “ like i said, she’s probably replacing me with some new guy. and you know what, good for her. we weren’t together very long, and i know i’ve done some questionable shit while with her, so she deserves better. but i still care about her, you know ? i hate the way we left things, and i’m sure she’s probably equally upset about it. so... yeah, it kind of sucks. i just wish we had more time together. ”

#joshua ; prompt #crackon:prompt #josh and his girlfriends: the saga

6 notes · View notes

arw1sy · 1 month ago

Text

ADJUSTING TO THE CHAOS

Week 1

I have been in this campus dorm for 3 months with my roommates, Athia. It was cool between the two of us until one day there is a newcomer which is our new roommates named Lea. She is currently continuing her studies in degree which means she’s our senior. She seems friendly enough, but I immediately notice how loud she is. Her voice is loud, even when she’s speaking normally. I didn’t think much of it at first, after all, everyone’s settling in. The next two hours when she’s done unpacking her things, her group of friends came to our dorm for the first time. They’re nice, but the noise level was insane. They talked and laugh loudly for hours. Im not against fun but I could barely hear myself think. Same goes to Athia, my other roommates. I tried to study, but every time I thought they quiet down, they got louder again. I’m starting to worry this will become a regular thing. It was around midnight when one of Lea friends came to our dorm and they had a long, loud conversation that echoed through the room. I tried to drop hints that I needed some quiet, like sighing or shuffling around my bed, but no luck. At this point, I realized that I need to say something if this keep up.

Sincere,

DARWISYAH ADRIANA

Week 2

I had a talk with Athia because she also can’t concentrate on her study because of how loud Lea and Aisy talk. I decided to talk to Lea about the noise. I told her that while I understand she and Aisy are close, me and Athia need a little more silence, especially late at night. She seemed understanding and apologies, but I feel awkward bringing that up. I’m hoping things will be as usual no loud noise or anything. Guess what, our talk didn’t help that much. Aisy came over again, and they were as loud as before. It feels like they forget that me and Athia was here sometimes. I spent most of my times in my friends’ dorm while Athia goes to the library. The dorm was supposed to be home, but right now, it doesn’t feel like it. The next day, after I came back from campus, I was really thankful that Lea hasn’t come back from her class yet. I took a shower and rest a bit until I fall asleep because I was really tired, but then not less than 20 minutes I woke up from my slumber of the sound Lea and her group of friends talking and laughing hysterically. I didn’t say anything because I was too tired. I’m getting less sleep, which affecting my focus during the day.

Sincere,

DARWISYAH ADRIANA

Week 3

I was growing frustrated day by day, so I decided to talk to Lea again. This time I was more direct. I explained to her how the noise has been affecting me and Athia’s sleep and concentration, I asked her if they could be quieter, especially at night. Lea seems apologetic and said she talked to Aisy about it, but part of me wonders if things will actually change. For the next weeks, the room was quiet. Lea and Aisy still hung out, but they kept their voices down. I could finally study in peace, and I even slept really well for the past weeks. I’m cautiously optimistic, but also a bit skeptical. It was too good to be true. Fortunately, I am going to move from this dorm in 2 months into an apartment with my friends, so I don’t have to worry about the noise ever again. I just have to wait a little bit longer then I’m done with this problem.

Sincere,

DARWISYAH ADRIANA

1 note · View note

cinnamonest · 3 years ago

Text

Yandere Profile - Link (Legend of Zelda)

ABSOLUTELY YES. MY BOY. LOVE OF MY LIFE.

As some of you may know, today is the release date of Skyward Sword HD for Switch!! So I decided to release this one now in honor of that :3

NOTES:

I went towards the idea of a Princess!reader because that just opens the gate for sooooo much potential. I'm leaning heavily towards the ZeLink interactions in BoTW and Skyward Sword just because those games have the most interaction between the two.

Also! This is great bc it gives me the opportunity to explore an idea I've actually had a long time! I've always thought about how many opportunities there have been across the games for Link and Zelda to be kinda like "haha well seeya later" and just... bolt, run away from everything, abandon their roles and responsibilities and all that. Like, if OoT kid Link got her before Ganon did and ran, if SS Link just decided to get her on the bird and bolt before everything went down, if botw Link was just like haha what if we ran away from everything together... jk... unless...?

And final note, Link is a great pick for the very traditional yandere -- sweet and : ) but can snap into darker personas. I really liked writing this bc I tend to have more self centered yans and less of the "worships the ground you walk on" type of yans like I think Link would be, so it's a nice change.

As usual now the nsfw section is divided by a ---- line.

TWs: fem reader, heavily implied Zelda!reader, stalking, murder, very brief mentions of gore/dismemberment of rivals, manipulation, very brief suicide mention, themes of reincarnation (I’ve been told this can be triggering to some people so just in case)

TWs (nsfw section): noncon, somnophilia

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

Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 4 Brutality: 8.5 Physical capability: 8 Mental/emotional instability: 7 Restrictiveness: 6 Sexual sadism: 5 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

The primary trait of Link that any darling -- any person, really -- would notice is that he is, well, quiet. He has always been a man of few words, and really, he often doesn't know exactly what to say. On his own, at a first glance, he really does seem like a gentle, humble spirit, someone who blends into the background pretty well, who isn't particularly prideful or reckless or aggressive.

Which is why, to be honest, he might sort of evade the gaze of most people -- he doesn't stand out. You remember him as the boy that smiled at you now and then, it's a soft, gentle sort of smile, one that you feel conveys nothing but the utmost innocence and contentment with the world. You know he's pretty good at fighting, but doesn't get into fights needlessly, he's accomplished and respected, but has never been the guy everyone is talking about -- he's in the background, against the wall. Never speaking, always looking out, sometimes at the sky, sometimes carefully watching people. Sometimes you see him, gaze blank and tranquil, and wonder what he's thinking about. Whether he's the village boy in the time of Twilight, the trained and honored warrior that slept for many years, the boy that came down from the sky -- you can't help but feel at ease around him, safe, you can't help but find him endearing and pleasant.

Yet, you always seem to notice him. Other people... forget he exists, sometimes, he's so quiet. You never do, for whatever reason.

When he needs to get something across, he prefers to express himself through actions, not words. If you lived in Skyloft, or Ordon village, you might find problems mysteriously solved, work suddenly done that you don't remember doing. That fencepost outside your home that broke has been replaced overnight. A village child went missing and he comes back a few hours later with them in tow. Always humble, never demanding or expecting thanks, he tells you in his quiet voice that he's happy to help you.

And should you ever ask him for anything, he'll drop whatever he's doing to help. Anything for you, he says with a smile, which makes you feel a bit guilty when, honestly, you're not even sure you're remembering his name right.

And yet, sometimes, you feel so at ease around him it seems unnatural. He seems so easy to trust. You feel like you've known him forever. And sometimes you feel... for just a split second, less at ease. You find yourself randomly stiffening at his calm, sweet voice. You find yourself looking around when you're alone, as if you feel someone is there, and for some reason, his face flashes through your mind. Sometimes when he looks at you, you feel sort of cold. It's almost like invoking a memory you don't have, like some kind of learned instinct you can't recall a reason for. But those moments are fleeting, they come and go before you can even process them, replaced by warmth and comfort.

If you do spend time with him, if you find yourself gazing out your window when he's training, the next thing you notice besides him being quiet and sweet is that he's strong. It's almost ironic, how all the other knights or village boys are so aggressive and rowdy all the time, many of them taller or bulkier, and yet, none of them could ever dream of defeating Link. Not one can match his agility, speed, prowess. Such a pleasant, calm person, with so much skill, strength, and power, but that power is so rarely seen exerted. People marvel at his talent, they say it's as if he has the experience of lifetimes and lifetimes of battle in his blood.

And it's why you feel at ease when he's assigned the task of guarding you. His capabilities are unmatched, and yet you'd never fear any harm to you from him. Both of those traits put together make him the best candidate to protect you.

Of course, you do find yourself doing most of the talking. Sometimes you find yourself rambling to fill the silence, and you fear you're annoying him, but when you stop he raises an eyebrow and asks why you got so quiet. Did he do something wrong? He seems to worry about that a lot -- has he done something bad? Has he made you upset? Are you mad? At first you think he's worried about his position security, but after a while you realize he genuinely worries about it.

And when you do continue your ramblings, you're surprised to find he remembers your words -- every little thing you say. Things you don't even remember telling him. He asks you about that relative you mentioned one time, his eyes light up and he walks a bit to the side because look, it's your favorite flower over there, he'll get it for you. It's impressive, really, how he manages to remember such things. He must take his job very seriously.

He does enjoy giving you such things -- he loves giving you gifts. It's usually things he finds, wholesome little things -- makes a crown out of the flowers you like so much, finds something interesting here or there, while he was off-duty he saw something in the markets he thought you'd like and got it for you. You almost feel guilty, it's so constant that he's giving you things.

Sometimes you ask him about himself, you realize he knows so much about you and you so little about him. He blushes, he rubs the back of his head, he insists there's nothing interesting about him, he wouldn't waste your time like that. It takes time to get him out of his shell, but eventually, he tells you this or that, little stories from his life.

Sometimes you take long walks, you like to get out of the stuffy walls and have fun outside, he accompanies you across Hyrule. Sometimes it feels familiar, you pass places you've never been that give you a feeling of nostalgia, deja vu, a sense that you've been here before.

He’s protectiveness incarnated. Insanely so. He can spring to his feet at a moment's notice and deals with anything that comes for you before they can even get close.

It makes you feel safe, but there's something else there. It's a ferocity that is so contrasting to his normal self, different even from the times you've seen him fight as he trains. It's a glint in the eyes, an aggression in his expression, that almost makes him seem like a different person. And it lingers for a moment, once the creature is dead and his sword hand falls to his side, he turns and glances at you to his side, a hand raised to wipe the blood off his face, and for that lingering second, it's still there, his blank expression and wide eyes -- a ferocity so intense it starts to look like bloodlust, chaos, destruction. And then, it's as if you imagined it. Smiling and telling you it's gone now, you're ok. You're glad he's so truly devoted.

In fact, he's so dedicated to his job that he starts... doing it... outside of his job hours...? Well, today he was given the day off, and you were told to stay inside because you didn't have to go out. He comes knocking on your door, says not to be startled if you hear someone outside your door move or shift or anything, but he just wanted to let you know in case. He'll be right here. Keeping watch. So don't worry. You're safe.

And likewise, he was supposed to have a day off when you were supposed to enter the town. You were assigned two other guards to watch you, since it's a special trip, so you're surprised to find just Link waiting for you. He took care of it, he says, he didn't feel right leaving your safety up to someone else, he doesn't trust them. So they agreed to let him take over for today.

All of this said, he doesn't have to grow alongside you, he doesn't have to be the childhood friend, the knight who guards you. He doesn't even have to have met you. Fate works in odd ways like that. There's a sort of inexplicable instant attachment he takes to you, almost as though it's some kind of destined, divinely inspired sort of thing. He would describe it as saying you feel familiar to him.

He's also, notably, prone to a more traditional trope of what you might call humility whiplash. For the most part, he's got that overly humble, worshipping, "I don't deserve to even stand in your presence" sort of mentality. However, although it's rare and requires a lot of wearing down his mental state, if pushed far enough, he can have brief moments where he snaps into more or less the complete opposite -- entitlement, arrogance, aggression, getting mad at you for the behavior he'd normally take with a smile on his face. Thankfully, unlike some yanderes that have a whole snapping episode towards their darling, his are very very brief, usually only a matter of seconds or a single snarled sentence before he snaps back to normal, wide-eyed and apologetic and telling you I don't know what came over me. It’s... a little frightening to say the least, but you blow it off, tell yourself that hey, everyone has moments like that... Right?

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

For the most part, he doesn't need it, he can pretty easily cling to your side well enough to be assured of your safety, and he manages to scare off the undesirables not with a glare, but a smile that's just a little too sweet and far too persistent -- it unnerves people. You hear a lot of people say that something about that guy rubs me the wrong way. Or that he gives me goosebumps for some reason. Even the people he scares away themselves can't pinpoint exactly what it is, all they know is that, despite being reputed as kind and quiet (and maybe a little dense), somehow a lot of people agree that something about him puts people at unease, and that's all he needs. Because they stay away from him, and if he’s by your side all the time, that means they stay away from you too. Why keep you trapped when you can just be isolated?

An aware Link is a a unique scenario. One scenario that's rather... interesting to imagine is a Link that defies fate itself, a Link that decides to be selfish in one of those rare snapping moments of his. Perhaps he makes a decision when everything starts going down, when the chaos is beginning, or perhaps he has somehow managed to gain knowledge of the bigger picture at work, the reality of the nature of your existence and his.

Perhaps he begins to think it's unfair. To suffer again and again. To prove himself again and again, and not always even to reap any benefits, to work so hard and yet still -- still -- you slip out of his grasp. He longs for a life with no tribulations, no struggle, no fights to be fought. He begins to feel like it's what he wants the most. He begins to feel like maybe it's what he deserves. So many lifetimes of struggles, if the higher powers won't give him a reward, he'll take it himself.

And perhaps, for all their higher power, not even the great goddesses themselves would have ever predicted it -- humans are ultimately creatures of will. To defy fate and to run away from destiny -- it wouldn't be the first time a human has tried such a thing. Sure, Hyrule may be destroyed. The people may all die. There may be nothing left. But you know what? He's stopped caring. If you're alive and he's alive, tucked away in your little corner of the world where you've found respite, well, that's all he needs. Even if you're on the run from forces that would want to find you, even if the threat of the final third of the triforce owner looms over your head. He'll ignore it, he'll look away.

You'll live a quiet little life together, a happy life without suffering, without quests and enemies, without strife, without worry. That's what he tells you when he steals you away, lifts you out of your bed one night. Says to be quiet, there's danger outside your door, he's rescuing you. You have no reason to not believe him. He waits until things go down, a castle under siege, but rather than taking you to where you're supposed to go, he climbs onto the horse and starts... riding away. It gets further and further into the distance, and you might ask why, what's going on? You have a job to do, he has a battle to be fought. But he says you're going far, far away, someplace you'll be safe.

But what about the divine beasts, the seals, the Twilight, whatever threat runs in this world in this time, what about the threat of Ganon, you ask? He says it doesn't matter anymore. You were doomed to fail, he thinks, it's either stay here and die, or run away. All that matters is you. And he'd like you to feel the same way for him. You will with enough time, don't worry.

He just wants this happy, quiet life with you that he’s been denied time and time again. It’s all he wants. If fate won’t give it to him, he’ll make it happen himself, and carve out the life he is determined to have, defying even the will of higher power.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

He gets it. Really, he does. "Stop following me!" You yell. Well, he understands why you might feel that way, but this is kinda his job. He thinks you're naive. Not that he would ever, ever have a thought that you're imperfect, of course! It's because you're so perfect and pure that you're... less aware of the dangers all around.

He'll let you think you're free, perhaps. He's more than capable of being quiet, quiet is kind of his thing. Watching you from a short distance is easy. Of course, his horse might make a noise, he can't really help that, or he might misstep on a branch or something. And then you turn around and get all mad again. Now you're even more angry. Well, he can also tell your guardians/father, who will encourage you to accept it. You can't help but feel a little bad -- he's just doing his job.

Now, our aware, runaway Link, well, does he really need to keep you restrained? What would you go back to? Certain death, a land destroyed? Sometimes you mention home, and he's quick to remind you that home doesn't exist anymore. His home is where you are. Can't you feel the same way? You found peace here in this little place -- a village far far away. Travelers, you call yourselves. What's the point in going elsewhere? How would you ever survive without him? He's not very good at being subtle or skillful about the psychological manipulation, it's obvious he's trying to scare you into not leaving, but... it still works, because really, he has a point.

He doesn't want to have to use physical restraint, in any case. And for the most part, it's not needed, because one important aspect of your relation is that his job kinda revolves around you (in some incarnations), or, perhaps you live in the same little village, but either way the thing is that his presence does the job well enough -- he's always there, perhaps more so than almost any other yandere. Even when you think you've managed to get away from him for a moment, somehow his face pops up out of nowhere. How he manages to pull it off is a mystery, you swear he manages to find you so well and predict your movements it's inhuman.

But if you really, really pose a problem, a smarter and sneakier darling that somehow manages to keep slipping out of his grasp and running off (you never get away for more than about 20 minutes or so, but nonetheless), you keep trying to run off when he's sleeping (he wakes up in approximately 25 seconds if your presence is absent from the bed, but that's still enough time to run out the front door), every time he turns his head (which isn't often) you're trying to disappear... well, in that case, he can reach a point of deciding more straightforward measures are necessary. He hates to do it, really, at least when he's not yet at a snapping point. But it's for your own good. And he says so, quite apologetically.

But it's not so bad, it's not like you're being chained to a wall or anything. For one, he got leather ties so you'd be more comfortable, but more importantly, as your guardian, he figured the best thing for you to be tied to would be... himself. Think of it like friendship bracelets! It's just... got a 5-foot chain connecting them. This way you can't sneak off at night, and you won't get too far when he's distracted. It's a safety measure.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

He's a learner. At first, it's easy. Honestly, he is a rather naive, gullible boy, sometimes he reminds you of a happy dog with his bright eyes. He likes to believe the best of people, give them the benefit of the doubt in all circumstances, and that goes double for you, who he believes can do no wrong.

And even when you do lie to him, it's still not wrong. You didn't do anything bad. Clearly there has simply been a misunderstanding, and you thought you had to lie. Or perhaps you simply forgot a detail or were confusing something with something else. It wasn't malicious on your end, he knows that.

He's actually significantly smarter than he lets on in practical knowledge, though. Those dungeon puzzles pay off, you know? He's got pattern recognition down. So over time he learns how to distinguish when you're lying to him or attempting to deceive him, and sees through it increasingly well.

And yet, he doesn't really... get mad over it, most of the time. Again, he's just capable of deluding himself into believing there's a reason. He believes so strongly in your goodness that he finds a way to interpret everything you do as out of benevolence. So you snuck out the window and didn't tell him you were going for a walk because you just wanted to get away from his suffocating presence for once? You were just thinking of him. You didn't want to burden him and wanted to give him a break. Well, that's thoughtful, but don't worry, he doesn't need a break. He thinks it's precious you're so considerate of him though!

You don't tell him you were talking to that person, and you lie and say no when he asks, because you don't want him to worry, and because you underestimate how dangerous others can be. He's told you a million times and you don't listen, but that's ok, it's because you're just so pure you see the best in everyone. Everything you do is good.

Because he perceives your lies, he will still work against and around it. He won't confront you on your lies, he'll just make sure to deal with the situation -- you lied about sneaking out, well, he'll just keep watch and be ready to meet you outside next time. You lied about talking to a person, well, he'll just have to make sure they stay away from you instead.

If you're trying to trick him, he just plays along until necessary. Smiles and nods. He gets the suspicion you're planning a break-out when he told you he was leaving to go get something from town... rather than saying so, he just decides, you know what? Why don't you come with him? Oh, you're feeling sick, you tell him it's ok, go without you? Well, he can't leave you alone then! Because you're clearly not and just trying to get him to leave... or, as he says, he can't just leave you alone. He'll go another day.

He's fairly manipulable when it comes to praise and affection. You can easily Pavlov him into certain behaviors or patterns with just the slightest words of praise and affection. He's not a very outwardly expressive person, tends to stay quiet, but you can tell how he feels inside when you give the slightest praise, a hug, a kiss on the cheek -- you can see that soft hint of a smile and tell that inside, he's basically melting, even if it's not obvious to most people. And, much like the lying, he’s honestly often aware of it, but he just can’t help it.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He tries to get you the things that he feels will make you happy. Your happiness is incredibly important to him, and he usually thinks about how any action he plans to take might affect you, spends a lot of time debating choices of things to do or say and try to determine how each one will affect you and choose accordingly.

As such, he goes out of his way to support the things you want to do. Have a hobby? He'll find the best materials available. Want a book or a food? He'll obtain it through some means. Even if procuring it involves a side-quest-y set of mundane tasks or scouring the world for 70 of this and 50 of that to exchange it for the item from an obscure specialist, it's all worth it.

The only thing he just doesn't give up on is the constant vigilance and insistence on being by your side more or less every waking second. And every sleeping second. And just every single moment you're alive. It's for your safety.

This is actually one of the things he can get a little nasty about when it comes to how he deals with it, because he quickly has the bright idea that if you don't get it, he'll make you understand. Of course, he can't actually risk you getting hurt, so he stages it. Allows you to sneak off, or at least think you have, and walk right into the path of those monsters he lured, or the people he hired to intimidate you. Of course, it's only natural that he shows up at the last possible second, right on time to save you. You should expect that, after all, it's his responsibility to protect you, of course fate works out perfectly like this. See, he was right, it's so dangerous, and without him you'd be dead. Hopefully you grasp that now.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

His is mostly related to vigilance. Where are you? Who have you been talking to? Who was that person you were talking with just now? What did they say? He's not nosy. He just cares about you. It’s in the job description. You ought to understand just how much certain bad people would love to find you and hurt you. That's why he has to know.

This isn't our modern world, so there's no phones or tracking devices to speak of, just himself, which, well, might as well be a tracking device since he never seems to have difficulty finding you. Sometimes you're not sure how he does it.

He tells you that you don't have to be with him 24/7, but you will be, even if you don't realize it. He's aware enough to know that you'll feel suffocated and get mad if you're aware of his presence all the time, so he gives you your "alone" time, aka, the "follow her quietly from a 20+ foot distance" time. It all feels the same to you. Well, sometimes you feel eyes on you, but you shake the feeling off as paranoia.

So it's not so much that he sets rules and reacts when they're broken, but rather, he works his way around anything you might do so well that he doesn't need you to follow his rules, or really, you take them more as suggestions. But honestly, that's kind of worse. It's enough to drive a darling to the brink of a mental breakdown very quickly. With Link you will inevitably become paranoid, nervous, you feel like you're going insane because he manages to pop up everywhere, he always knows what you did when you did it and you have no idea how it is even conceivably possible for him to know some of the things that he knows. He confronts you very plainly and quietly, often sweetly, asking why you did this or that or telling you it's ok, you don't have to hide anything, surely there’s a good reason, and if not, he forgives you anyway. In a way, it's worse than an angry confrontation. You begin to feel like he's omnipresent, like he can read your mind, and it truly takes a mental toll and affect you worse than any normal yandere's concept of punishment.

This ultimately works out well in his favor. The more you just do what he wants, the less it feels like a violation or intrusion that he knows these things, since he was there with you, it makes sense, and you continuously get bent to his will.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Ah, and thus we get to that brutality rating.

It would be unthinkable to think that any sort of scum would even dare. Even he isn't worthy of being with you, and someone else thinks they could be? So, he more or less views "rivals" as an offense. When they're threats, well, he's allowed to deal with them. When they're not, well... he has a wonderful reputation. If he says he overheard that person planning usurpation or assassination, that they realized he was listening in and wildly attacked him, everyone will believe him. Even if the death seems a little... non-immediate. And uh... frankly... overkill. How exactly... did those limbs get perfectly severed during equally armed combat? And was it... really necessary... to kinda spill entrails all over like that? He'll apologize, of course, he was just so outraged by the thought of someone hurting you or your family, you know? You notice his eye twitches a bit as he says it.

He has a lot of... bottled up frustrations, which we'll touch on in the nsfw section as well, but it tends to manifest in those two ways: sex and violence. Rather than exerting stress and anger and frustration as it comes, he lets it fester. He tries to maintain being the noble, humble, self-sacrificing person he feels he should be. That is... difficult to do for a long time. People expect a lot from him, even in timelines where he's not necessarily realized as the hero quite yet, he usually has a lot of responsibilities. But then you tack on the whole hero thing? The weight of the world is sometimes, quite literally, on his shoulders. Do you have any idea the kind of stress that comes with that knowledge? It's not pleasant. And it quickly bottles up, a very very fragile bottle set to eventually shatter in a matter of time.

On a longer sort of quest, he just kinda... leaves a trail of destruction in his wake. Enemies don't actually just poof out of existence the way they do on-screen, you know. Anyone coming across an area he's just been through is met with literal piles upon piles of corpses, sometimes monsters, but sometimes people. He takes a very scorched earth sort of policy when it comes to dealing with things.

He's able to easily get close to people, with that sweet face and puppy eyes and lithe body, people don't really feel on guard around him nor intimidated. That makes it significantly easier to infiltrate enemy hideouts, earn favors, and work his way in to be able to commit mass murder more easily. Granted, no one thinks too much of it because they *are* truly enemies, after all, they *did* need to be taken out and well, if the rulers can choose to either send a group of ten soldiers or just one guy and get the job done equally well either way, they'll go with the latter option. No one thinks anything of it, except the occasional person who laughs and says something to the effect of remind me to never get on your bad side, haha! He gives that sheepish, sweet little smile, and jokingly tells them that yeah, better not.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

For you, nearly impossible. For others, at a hair trigger.

For the most part, he conceals anger well until, as aforementioned, it bottles up and bursts. The truth is he gets irritated virtually all the time by other people. People who talk to you. Look at you. Smile at you. He’s actually rather easily annoyed even when you’re not involved, but again, he’s good at hiding it until it builds.

His rage has a commonality with his calm -- it's quiet. At least, at first. When it's directed at others, his eyes narrow. It's the telltale sign that someone has ignited his rage. It burns on the inside, it starts off as a spark that builds and builds and grows larger and larger until it's a blazing fire that consumes everything in his path. It's a loss of composure, a rare moment of complete loss of self-control. From his own perspective, it feels like he's not in control of his own body, it's all a blur happening in front of him and when it's over he's looking down at his own hands, unable to process his own actions, sometimes unable to remember them.

But it's violent, merciless, unforgiving. It does not yield to begging, it does not leave anything alive unless forced to. You remember the first time you realized how unnatural it was, how shocked you were at how he did something that certainly went against the code he was sworn to follow, the very first time you felt truly afraid of Link. It was a walk in town -- someone called out to you, spitting obscenities about you and your family, your lineage, threw something at you -- he caught it in his hand and crushed it, and quickly, without a word, advanced on the offender. And, to make a long story short, you had to prevent him from beating a man to death in public in broad daylight. He was forgiven by his superiors, but even they seemed shocked. You had to pull him off, and when he jerked his head around to look at whatever was stopping him -- before his face softened as he recognized your own face -- the split second you saw the burn of hatred and fury in eyes that were normally so soft and loving, was nothing short of unsettling, you still recall the chill that ran down your spine.

And honestly? It's terrifying. And the first time, it's shocking. Sure, you knew he could fight. You've seen him fight off monsters, bokoblins and lizalfos and the like. But something is different about seeing the blood of a human being run down his sword, dripping onto the ground, to see the bodies and the blank, numb gaze on his features he always has after it's over. The absolute lack of hesitancy he has to run human enemies through before they even have a chance to explain themselves, how unbothered he seems by the carnage left in his wake. The way he turns back to you, drenched in red and smiles, tells you it's ok, you're safe now. There's no need to look so scared.

And it changes how you view him, in the long run. Less of a guardian angel, more of a guardian dog, one that defends your name when you never asked him to. Pleads to tell him not to fall on deaf ears -- you just don't understand why it has to be this way, he says, you can't comprehend the threat they posed. From the sweet boy that leaves you flowers and repairs and instead leaves a wave of destruction in his path you would not have thought possible.

Directed towards you, though, it's entirely different. He tries his best to have patience with you, no matter what. He smiles, he tries to make excuses as to why you'd say this or do that, why you'd feel a certain way, and he's rather good at deluding himself to give you the benefit of the doubt.

But when it reaches an end, when he can no longer lie to himself, when you push it to a point that you truly make him mad, it's more of a snap. The times he'll lay hands on you in a truly violent way are rare, and as aforementioned, very brief. It's usually not so much of actually a blow, so much as a grab. He just can't get what he's trying to tell you through your thick head, so he stresses it, trying to make you understand as he grabs you by the upper arms, shaking you with each word, and he only stops when he sees the pain and fear in your eyes, drawing his hands back at lightning speed. He saves you from some danger very narrowly, one of the few times he lost track of you for a moment and had to frantically search before coming across you being attacked. What would I have done if something happened to you? Don't you understand that? He's so lost in the relief it takes him a moment to feel you beating on his arms in the embrace, choking and wheezing that you can't breathe, that his grip is so tight it feels like he'll snap you in half. He draws back again, and he apologizes, but it will certainly happen more than once.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Above. Like, so, so, so far above. He feels like he doesn't even deserve to look at you. Of course, neither does anyone else, so he's just, you know, stepping up to bear the burden of wrongdoing to keep people even worse than him away from you.

So it's less that you're just above him so much as you're above everyone. He's actually, perhaps surprisingly, a little bit of a pessimist about the world. The world is full of so many terrible people and so many horrible things happen that he's borne witness to. It's a "world cold and hard, (y/n) soft and warm" sort of thing. You're the one good thing, the thing that makes him happy, the ultimate source of comfort he has, and he has to prevent you from being defiled by the evil of the world, keep you innocent and sweet (even if he's just deluding himself to think you are those things in the first place).

This ties into, again, how he interprets every action you take as good and benevolent -- he has the "you can do no wrong" mentality. Even very blatantly malicious things, he'll interpret in a way that makes you somehow still come out a perfect, innocent angel. If you do harm to others, well, they simply deserved it. You did something technically wrong, but you knew no better, or you were desperate. You can't be held responsible for any of it. And if you're mean to him, well, he probably did something to make you upset.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Sort of a duality. Yes, he's very persistent. He thinks about it all the time. Every time you yell and try to run and hurl nasty insults at him, it hurts far more than you realize. He doesn't let it show on his face or in his voice, but it really does, and it gets to him sometimes. He's hyper observant of every little thing you do, your body language, your tone, the way you look at him, and the slightest of differences can change his mood internally, although it tends to look the same outwardly.

He makes little mental notes of it -- today she didn't flinch when I touched her shoulder. Today she didn't frown when she saw me coming. Little things like that will make his entire day. Likewise, the inverse kills him inside. He aims to make every day one of the former days, where the littlest signs of acceptance or even kindness and affection give him a sort of high that makes him feel like he's floating.

He tries his best to do things that he thinks will, well, earn love. Every opportunity to do something for you, he takes it. Everything he sees he'd think you'd like, he buys (or steals, or... loots from a dead body) for you. On and on that idea goes. And although he doesn't say too much, when he does speak to you, he usually has something nice to say. He views it in a formulaic way -- ironically, think about it like those collectibles in overworlds. You get enough of this or that thing, and once you have enough, you can go talk to this or that person and donate them all and get a reward, right? He's accustomed to viewing things that way. Love should be the same way. If he just completes enough tasks and gathers enough items, eventually he'll unlock your love.

That being said, even if it doesn't happen, much to your despair, he just... doesn't. Give. Up. He doesn't quit. No matter how many times you tell him, it doesn't make a difference. You can tell him you'll never love him, and it's like it goes in one ear and out the other. He keeps trying. And he never, ever, ever stops trying. What did you expect? The boy's been fighting the same enemy over and over across lifetimes, needless to say his spirit has build up some persistence.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Bonus: Zelda/Triforce of Wisdom Darling

And don't worry. If it all goes wrong, when he fails, those divergences in time where the hero is vanquished and evil wins out -- it's not the end. Somehow, that's the feeling he gets, holding your little lifeless body up, running hands across your cold skin. Somehow, he feels oddly calm. Like it hurts, but it's ok. Like he'll see you again. Maybe not soon, but one day. This time didn't work out. But the next one will.

And that's the feeling you'll always have. Every time you meet him and you feel like you've met before, the lingering memories when you wake from your dreams -- flying through skies and sailing on oceans, a child, an adult, a boy you've never met, or one you've known all your life, but it's always the same face, the same voice, the one right beside you in the waking world. You sometimes wonder if he has the same feelings, the same dreams, the same sense of something greater than yourselves at work, the sense of being just smaller pieces in a much bigger picture.

The sense of permanency, that each other is all there will ever be -- regardless of how it makes you feel, regardless of how that scares you, sometimes you feel like you can never be free. Sometimes, when you think of running away, those dark moments when you think of even escaping from life itself, it feels futile. It's as if you know it would never hold him away forever. As if death is insignificant. Perhaps in this lifetime, you'll become aware of why that is, or perhaps not.

With other obsessive lovers, just the idea of til death do us part is a terrifying thought. But, for Link, not even death can keep him away from you. Your suffering is already determined by the will of higher power, for the sake of a greater good.

In truth, it’s the goddesses who made him this way intentionally -- it’s designed to ensure your safety, even at the cost of your suffering. Again, for a greater good. Sure, you may live one lifetime to the next desperately locked in the same cycle in which your freedom and will is stripped from you, but in the end, it serves a purpose.

Nor will he change -- perhaps this one this time is a bit more spirited, more calm, more pessimistic, more optimistic... but in the end, at their core, they're the same soul, with the same will deep, deep down. The same drive to find you and protect you. The same love for you, an all-consuming love that destroys everything in its path to you and leaves ruin in its wake.

And if fate should one day keep you apart, should things change, for whatever reason, it’s unable to change him. There's another force even more powerful than fate determined to keep you together. The only thing more unavoidable, inevitable, and unescapable than fate, is Link himself.

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

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

In moments of passion, he changes a bit, unlike other more submissive yans who stay consistent in their reverence and desire to please.

You see, after a while, being as lenient and tolerant and flexible and completely devoted as he is... constantly self-sacrificing in so many ways, to you, to Hyrule, to the world... some frustrations build up. It's a big, big bottle of emotion, all tucked away and festering, getting greater and greater and eventually it has to explode somehow.

His reservations and inhibitions fall away. Perhaps a darker, more selfish side comes out. Perhaps that's why he's so rough. He knows he'll regret it later, the bruises from how hard he grips, the marks from the bites, but the hormones and the heat takes over. He'll feel bad for defiling you. He'll apologize. And he'll do it again. And again. And again.

But once the resolve crumbles, it topples. That is, he can't partially maintain it -- if it's partially gone, it falls apart completely. He lets go, so to speak. And when he lets go, you find that underneath that carefully constructed resolve and willpower that holds him back, he can be a very, very rough and possessive lover. In his normal state, he wouldn't dare think of you as a possession, or as something he's even worthy of. He would like so, so much to think that, to feel like he's allowed to -- but he doesn't. He chastises himself for even having such a desire. But in those moments, when his resolve is gone and his brain isn't thinking quite too clearly, he might even have to audacity to say "mine." Even if it's not true, not now, maybe it will be. He would like that so much. His and his alone.

And in a moment of clarity, he might even throw away the inhibition on purpose. The more selfish side, the same Link that drags you away from your destiny -- he's already forsaken his responsibilities, hasn't he? Why care anymore about the structures that no longer exist, your status and his, if there's no kingdom left? He likes that it happened, even. This way, this time, you can throw off those titles, those roles. Without your status, your title, there's nothing stopping him from making you his. And you will be his, and nothing more. It's all you need to be. So he doesn't have to care anymore about any of that, he doesn't have to stop himself from going wild. Biting into every little spare patch of skin, covering your body with marks that make him feel comforted to see.

As far as drive it's a bit of a two-sided duality. Outwardly he's not a very sexual person at all, blushes and stutters and averts his gaze at the slightest mention of suggestive topics, tries his best to be Respectful(tm) by always looking away when you're in a compromising position, or your skirt flies up, etc etc. Given how constant his vigilance is, he has a tendency to accidentally walk in on your changing or bathing, except unlike with many yanderes, it's genuinely an accident. Not that the image doesn't stick in his mind, nor does he wish he hadn't gotten to see, but he does feel guilty, and it was genuinely unintentional. He kinda freezes up, so it takes a moment for him to actually snap out of it and run out.

That being said, he quickly develops something of a masturbation addiction when he's younger, it starts as more of a stress reliever than anything, He's so sweet and always feels bad about talking about his problems and feelings, so that and, well, violence are the only ways he can get it out. Thus he learns to channel stress and nerves into sexuality, and once he has a real living body and not just his hand, that dependency on cumming to relieve it doesn't change.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Particularly so, yes, cares quite a bit. And it takes a while for him to feel comfortable. Even consensually, the first few times he touches you for several months, he's got trembling hands and stays quieter than ever, constantly freezes up every time you move or make a noise because he thinks he's done something wrong. He has to be coaxed into feeling more comfortable before he gets used to it, but he will build confidence over time.

As addressed before, though, if he's pushed and pushed and pushed long enough, you can get a darker side to come out. This is most likely something that would only occur post-kidnapping in a distant time, once he's far away from any possibility of consequence and destruction has set in to the world around you. He starts to get a little bitter, if you've been mean to him. It all builds up. Don't you get that he's literally saved your life? That he devoted every waking second to you? Isn't he kinda entitled to some thanks? The cycle of time never rewards him. Even the figures he helps over time rarely give him more than a verbal praise and thanks, maybe an item here or there, and then disappear. His role feels thankless. He starts to feel like he deserves something, something tangible, in return.

Surprisingly, though, he actually does not take the route of guilt-tripping or emotional manipulation or gaslighting his way into it like a lot of the sweeter yanderes when he does have that snap. His snaps/breakdowns are rather extreme in terms of how much of a polar opposite they are to his normal state, rather than just a slight bend of his normal personality. Rather than taking the route of most yanderes like himself, he just gets directly physically forceful. Still somewhat sweet, though, reminds you he loves you, he'd die for you, you're his entire world. You'd argue that doesn't really change the actions, but considering how frightening he is in that state, you're not dumb enough to vocalize that.

The guilt consumes him alive afterwards. Like, immediately afterwards. He's still panting and twitching and buried inside when it sets in. That being said, he doesn't get to stuttering and profusely apologizing, like he does over smaller offenses. It's all done and he can't take it back, so he just kinda collapses and says nothing. He's not the best with words, you know. It's an odd mixture of guilt and, honestly, a bit of satisfaction and relief. It feels like letting go of some self-imposed burden, that feeling of finally surrendering to some deep want, even if it comes with a lot of remorse, the relief of finally letting go does have a good feeling as well... and because of that, it’s another one of those barriers that, once broken, can’t be built up again.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

In all honesty the boy is, for the most part, a fairly gentle and vanilla lover. He doesn't really need anything special to get off -- he's easily excited and cums very very easily too. Just the prospect of getting to stick his dick in you in any capacity is enough to make him nearly burst at the thought honestly.

In general, as aforementioned, he's very very cautious and gentle to a point, but has a tendency to get actually kinda rough once he gets into it. The thing is, the roughness aspect is actually unintentional. He's one of those boys that is a little bit unaware of his own strength, doesn't process exactly how hard and fast he's going. He just gets lost in the feeling, kinda enters a dazed lusty haze where he's less aware of his actions. Doesn't realize he's literally got an iron grip pressing your head down on his dick or into the bed until you start flailing your hands because you can't breathe. Doesn't realize how hard he was gripping until he sees the bruises on your arms and hips later. That sort of deal -- poor thing is just unaware and doesn't have enough blood in his brain to think straight.

Biting

Surprisingly a really big one for him. (Remnants of a past life cycle with some lupine experiences perhaps?) In all seriousness, he could not explain exactly why if asked, it's one of those "I just like it" sort of things. It feels like yet another way to conjoin the two bodies, pulls you close. The marking aspect is also nice. Granted, he feels guilty afterwards, tries to help it heal. He has that same duality where moments ago he was this intimidating beast of a human being, rough and growly and jerking you like you were weightless, and now he's back to this bright eyed softie stuttering while he apologizes.

The guilt is mixed with a bit of enjoyment, though. It's constantly conflicting -- sure, part of him understands it's embarrassing and will help you cover up, but part of him doesn't want to, he wants people to see. Part of him looks at the marks and tells himself internally to never do that again, and part of him sees them and just wants to give you even more. It's a constant internal conflict, poor thing.

As far as a place, he likes the neck and shoulders best, simply because it's the most visible and it's the most passionate ones to create, when your bodies are tightly locked together. That being said, though, he also has a thing for biting at the insides of your thighs. It's another one of those I just like it sort of things.

Sometimes, when you're asleep, or pretending to be, you can feel him trace the bite marks with his fingers, softly running them over the circular pattern, just enough to barely ghost over your flesh.

Somnophilia

It puts him at ease. This one is particularly prevalent towards the beginning of your relationship, before you really know... how he is. He has this image of you as so pure and he couldn't bear the thought of defiling you with his horrible horrible thoughts. The guilt eats away at him for a while, but eventually he just can't hold back, but how could he ever do anything to you and risk consequence? So... the solution he comes up with is waiting until you sleep.

He tests the waters to see how heavy of a sleeper you are. Calls your name at increasing volume, lightly runs his fingers over your hair, pokes your face, whispers in your ear, runs his hands over your arms. Just to see what makes you rustle, if anything, so he knows the limits. If it turns out you're an incredibly light sleeper, well, unfortunately that means he's limited to just jerking off to your sleeping form, but that's ok. Just seeing your soft face and the cute way you breathe, the slightest way your lips open, that's enough for him.

If it turns out you're a heavier sleeper though, well, he tries to fight the temptation, but ends up going further. Slowly climbs onto your bed, careful to make the weight shift as gently as possible. Slowly pulls the covers back. Runs his hands up and down. It's a lot better when he can actually see your body as he jerks off, honestly. If he's feeling particularly risky, he might press your thighs together, feel how soft your skin is to his cock, how nice the squeezing pressure between them is.

He gets easily lost in a haze, though, so he inevitably ends up accidentally cumming on you and has to frantically find a way to lightly dab it up without waking you. He panics quite a bit, but that doesn't stop him from doing it again the very next night.

Overstimulation/Forced Orgasm

It just means he's doing a good job, really. Sure, you squeal and kick your feet back and forth and tug at his hair, but that's just because it feels good. Orgasms equate to love and feel good, right? Sure there's a little bit of pain when you go overboard, but then it just leads to feeling even better, right?

It's kind of an irrational compulsion rather than a logical goal, though. He just has an impulsive need to feel you quiver and spasm and clench, it basically gives him a chemical high hit and a wave of reassurance, makes him feel good in both the physical sense and the emotional sense. The first one sends him into this compulsive need to feel it over and over and over again, as many times as he can. It's another one of his internal conflict things -- sure, he knows it's hurting, but he just has to get one more. Just one more. But of course, every time turns into "just one more" when he's been saying that for half an hour now.

And, to be honest, it kind of gives him a pride boost to think he can make you cum against your will. How many people struggle to achieve that even when both parties are trying? It makes him feel good in an adequacy sort of way, he feels needed.

Size Kink/Distension

You know, there's a well-known thing among the male-lovers in this world when it comes to size. It's never the arrogant, loud guys, it's never the social butterflies, it's never the tall guys, it's never the beefy muscly guys. No, they're not the ones that end up somehow bestowed with absolute monster cocks. It's always the soft, lean boys who don't talk much. And they're always painfully unaware of it, too.

He's no exception. Not to the size or the complete lack of awareness. He hasn't spent a lot of time around guys his age too much, he's always been the one sent for some special task and ends up out in the wilderness by himself on journeys, or, in some lifetimes, accompanying you most of the time. He doesn't know what the average dick looks like, so he has no idea he's far above average.

This might sound like a plus, and of course in some ways it is, but also he doesn't think about the fact that the average body isn't properly equipped to handle it. You're supposed to just kinda put it in, that's how the sex works, right? Poor thing, especially if it's entirely consensual sex, he's just kinda ???? because why are you in pain? What is he doing wrong? You have to eventually explain it's literally just his body, not something he's doing.

That being said, naturally, he's a humble person, but hearing you say that does kinda... make him feel good inside. A little bit proud. He's not a person who takes a lot of pride in many things, so he likes having this one thing, and quickly notices you can visibly see it through the bulge it makes in your stomach. Especially if it's in a position where your back is pressed to his front, every little movement creates the bulge, so expect to get a lot of that.

He doesn't really bring it up much or talk about it when he's actually fucking you, it's more like, as with many things, something he's quietly aware of and silently enjoys a lot internally, even if it's not voiced.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

Yes and no. It has to do with his overactive protection instinct. What if something happened or went wrong? He couldn't take that. He couldn't lose you.

At the same time, he likes kids, and he's very good with them, very patient. And over time, realizes that a kid would be the perfect tool of manipulation, and besides that, isn't it a beautiful thing, an ultimate manifestation of love?

So how to work around that... Ultimately, what he decides to do is have a kid... Just not by blood. There are plenty of orphans in Hyrule, wandering the streets and the wilderness, picking one up is easy. ...You wouldn't leave this poor child to suffer out there, to fend for themselves, would you? Nor would you leave him to take care of it by himself... Right?

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Oh, it's not like he thinks of it that way. He would call it... a reminder. You put yourself in danger again? You tried to go back again? You were gone and for ten whole minutes he didn't know where you were? What could the solution to this issue be? The only thing his brain can really come up with is making sure you need him. Making sure you're content and satisfied here with him so you don't go running off.

Thus we return to the forced orgasm thing -- see, you do need him. It feels good, right? You say it hurts, and maybe it does a little, but ultimately you wouldn't be cumming if it wasn't good. No one else can ever do that. No one else knows you like this. No one else was made for you like this. You can't replace him. You need him. And he can keep going as many times as it takes until you see that, too. Even if he gets milked dry, he has a mouth and hands for a reason.

And by "until you see that," I mean until you say it. In his more... emotionally intense moments, he gets a bit insistent. He needs to hear you say it. Admit it to yourself. And to him. That you need him, that you depend on him, that you'll never leave again. And don't think your patience and tolerance can stand a chance of outlasting his -- it will keep going until you say it.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

He's one of those wholesome type of boys who goes with something sweet. He says maybe your hair, your face, your skin, your eyes. It's all so comforting. So familiar. Of course, not to say that he doesn't like your less wholesome mentionable parts, but he wants to be chivalric about such a question, and feels answering that way would be too disrespectful.

In his unspoken thoughts, though, he likes the hips. It's a part of you he can grab onto and hold you close with. He puts his hands there a lot and holds tight, like he feels like at any moment you could slip out of his grasp. And, I mean, it's nice to look at, can't forget that.

#atml #scheduled post #yandere x reader #yandere legend of zelda #yandere link

698 notes · View notes

i-need-air · 4 years ago

Text

Hybrid!AU Wolf!Bakugou Katsuki HCs Part 2.

Summary: Part 2 is here! While in part 1 it was mostly adoption and how he'd behave with you as a roommate, part two is him ✨ realizing things ✨ followed by how he'd be in a romantic relationship.

Word Count: 2k words [ oops, I did it again ]

Notes: So I said it'll be out in a few days but three [3] people asked me for part 2 and I'm a sucker soooooooo!! I could've just written a long ass fic but whatever, I thought I'd make it shorter in headcanons... hah lol right. Enjoy!

Part 1 here!

× he's a wild wolf so he's very active; like you need to understand he needs to go outside if not he'd get impatient, more aggressive, snappy, so once you took him on an easy hiking trail near your house and he loved it so once or twice a month you both go together to different places [ he demands it ]

× it's hard to keep up with him bc he's literally genetically engineered to be better than any very fit human being but he slows down for you

× morning runs at 5 a.m. bc he's insane

× is also a grandpa

× watched all documentaries on any streaming platform you could provide to him, also loves reading

× as months pass and you start to have your routine in order, word comes to you that an acquaintance is looking for a security guard at his mechanical shop two streets away from your house

× you casually mentioned it to Bakugou because he was starting to act anxious whenever you'd leave the house, so you assumed he was extra bored

× seriously, the house was spotlessly cleaned, he cooked amazingly and was occupied with your old laptop and going around the city to explore, but you guessed he wanted more independence?

× little did you know you were right but so wrong lol

× so Bakugou stared at you intensely and asked "Where?"

× it was as easy as telling him the location, him nodding and you thought he'd consider it; you didn't put any pressure on him because he already did so much to help around anyway

× well guess what bitch, next day he comes up to you saying you gotta co-sign his contract [cuz fuck society] meaning he got the job

× he was perfect for it because tall, intimidating, muscular wolf guy? who'd even mess with him? do they have a death wish?

× well, even before this he started to be... soft

× but once you really did show him you support whatever he wants to do, you give him his freedom and liberty of choice, he just reaaally changes, man

× he gets touchy, like his hands stay one second longer on your skin, he uses any excuse to have them on you, even his eyes follow you everywhere

× like c'mon, it's obvious but you didn't wanna put too much thought into it because we're respectful here

× not like you had a big fat crush on him and slowly started to realize it too

× sike bitch he knows

× you think his super-hearing didn't catch the way your heartbeat spikes up every single time he touches you? *please*

× i think he knows before you know

× meanwhile he is working to discover his feelings too

× so your relationship slowly turns into a couple's like relationship but without anything official and of course no kissing or such [ sadly ]

× would get jealous easily

× basically because nothing is talked between you two and deep down is insecure

× why the hell do you smell like other people? was it just a hug or something else? hell, why would you even hug people when he's right there??? just ask and don't touch some extras????

× another thing he does is getting very close to you while you talk to somebody else; scoffs and glares at them too

× ok so!! gifts! he really appreciates any gift you give him but scolds you if you do because you genuinely don't need to do that

× of course he just scolds you and calls you an idiot so I do hope you already learned his language

× it basically means that you shouldn't have done it, he's really grateful but seriously you shouldn't have

× like that one time you saved up money to get him a good computer and he forgot how to speak for like an hour

× the softest thank you ever afterwards

× still sounded rough but he was shocked as fuck

× one thing that remained in your brain were his friends, as sometimes he'd mention them

× so you took it upon yourself to find them, of course with his permission

× gets genuinely overwhelmed and plays it off saying he wouldn't mind knowing where those idiots ended but you didn't miss the way his voice trembled

× for you to find them you needed names and any information he could provide so that's when he, after a long silence and a mesmerized look on his face, started really talking about his life

× which was fucked; won't get much into detail but he was indeed in a fighting ring, people came and bet on whoever was stronger, he even had to fight his friends, everything was filled with abuse and their conditions were subhuman...

× just overall awful

× you couldn't help but hug him tight, feeling him shake in your arms

× with a hesitant voice he asked if you really did think there was a chance to find them

× just couldn't believe how amazing he felt in your arms

× or how your determination that night made his heart clench and took a big weight off his shoulders

× anywho;;;; after his first paycheck he takes you out on cute dates

× never calls them that, just demands you dress up [helps you out cuz boy got style] and takes you to a nice coffee shop or something

× AND on your fifth not date cuz you're not official but there's this weird tension between you date he finally kinda s n a p s

× you honestly didn't expect the waiter to flirt with you, he came out as very pushy and even if you were a lil uncomfortable you smiled and brushed it off

× when the waiter suggested giving you his number the sandy blond hybrid growled

× which i shit you not made the whole coffee shop freeze

× and you froze too

× but neither of you could say anything because the oblivious fuck kept talking

× basically joking about how you should keep your pet in a leash, to which you got up, threw some money on the table, grabbed Bakugou by the hand and leave before he'd rip someone's head off

× it only took you to touch Bakugou's arm to calm him down as he followed behind you wordlessly

× so you stood outside, angry, deep red eyes on your figure

× and silence

× his hand still in yours

× it was warm and amazing and you felt angry but your heart was beating loudly; angry at the waiter that you wanted to go full Karen on and get fired but excited because that growl shook you to the core, as if you could tell it was territorial and it was because of that pig flirting with you and did Bakugou Katsuki just lace his fingers with you?!

× "Oi." he interrupted your thoughts

× he turned your frame towards him and pulled you [kinda harshly] into him

× you'd make a comment about it but brain empty, just Bakugou Katsuki blushing

× "You're mine, you get it?"

× skdjflglykshs

× it sounded like he asked but it was a demand so oops you're his now ok bye

× like I said, boy isn't dumb so he lowkey knew you felt something too

× legit from there on he's just soft as fuck

× has a hard time opening up but visibly tries for you

× still continues to be a pain in the ass, Bakugou Style, but with a loving teasing attitude behind it

× his eyes give him away all the time

× they shine whenever you're in his field of view so congrats because, and this is the best part:

× WOLVES MATE FOREVER 💕💓💞💗💝💟

× oh yeah, he's yours, no takebacks

× he isn't one to half-ass the relationship; you're his now and he'll do anything for you

× big time touch starved it hurts

× because he is shy

× so whenever you introduce him to hand holding and cuddles, he can't get enough

× not big on PDA [ and not recommended since human-hybrid relationships are kiiiinda frowned upon but it's getting better ]

× although at home it's another deal

× seriously cuddle him; he's big into the protector vibe so he's a big spoon almost exclusively unless it's to sleep on top of you

× speaking of! accept that even if your relationship isn't that intimate, he'd still hint about sleeping together in the same bed

× so you better catch on when he does because he'll just click his tongue and call you needy

× while dragging you to bed

× sleeps holding you, his nose in your hair or in the crook of your neck

× unless it's summer then stay on your side 💅

× you know those kisses that just scream "I can't get enough of you"? that's his whole kissing vibe in a sentence

× hell, even the gentlest kiss gives that vibe away and it'll 100% leave you breathless

× doesn't have experience but is a very fast learner

× pays very close attention to your body language

× really into biting your skin enough to leave marks

× wear his hoodies

× no, I'm fucking serious, wear them now

× his chest puffs and he turns into a blushing mess when you do it the first times because his scent is on you

× scenting is a big thing for him so of course he's gonna love it

× 10x more territorial because now he has a mate to protect

× jealous but trusts you

× still very jealous though

× let's all pretend he is definitely not scenting you before you go out because it's in his nature and it is embarrassing

× the first time he tells you he loves you it's when he's feeling vulnerable

× the search for his friends is still on-going, he feels less than adequate as a providing mate, is pissed at the world for treating him like an inferior animal when they created him, everything is piled on his shoulders and whenever than happens he closes off

× you notice immediately

× will not tell you at first

× it's only when you go to bed and he turns his back to you when you really know it's bad

× even if you fought before, he'd angrily snuggle you at night-time

× now it's so different

× hug him, whisper sweet nothings in his ear, pull a blanket all over you both and big spoon him, he'd start shaking and talking in no time

× will hide his tears from you but you'd know

× "You're the best fucking thing that happened to me, [Y/N]... I—... Shit... I love you so much."

× neither of you slept that night

× excuse you? drink some water and pray to jesus;;; you talked about feelings, ok? communication is key in a relationship, puh-lease

× [ i have this whole nsfw hcs post already cookin in my brain so maybe I'll make it happen cuz y'all know he has a mating season and all that comes with it 👀 ]

× back to being children of jesus here

× thanks the moon, the heavens and all the gods for putting you in his life; boy didn't believe in destiny but deep down he thinks you were meant to be

× you still better wash the dishes or you'll get your ass kicked.

Extra:

× you did find some of his friends, little by little, and even if he acted nonchalant, like k das cool, it was obvious he was extremely happy

× so they did get adopted too

× you got in contact with them on social media and they were all very excited about meeting

× so it was a chaotic meeting with a dog hybrid called Kirishima and a mouse like vibrat yellow guy called Kaminari

× they all were looking for Bakugou too since they were very worried about where he ended

× Kirishima shed manly tears when seeing Bakugou

× as they instantly welcomed you in their small group, they informed you both that the majority of the squad was adopted and they're in contact, while they're still actively looking for the others

× cue to the softest expression you've seen on Bakugou in public followed by "That's good"

× silence

× shock and silence

× Kaminari turning to you and whispering "You did this" with a hand on his heart, lips trembling as he wiped an imaginary tear

× insert instantly snappy Bakugou

× when everyone laughed and continued to make plans to meet up with the others, he just looked at you conversing with them, soft expression again on his features and his chest warming

× "Oh! Look, he's doing it again! Quick, take a pictur—"

× "SHINE!"

#bakugou katsuki x reader #noirewrites #hybrid!bakugou #hybrid!au #bakugou x reader #bakugou headcanons #bnha x reader

1K notes · View notes

ladyvesuvia · 3 years ago

Text

Moniker Origin

PAIRING: Sirius Black x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

SUMMARY: Befriending a stray dog not only leads to a routine rendezvous every midnight but also the story of how Sirius got one of his many names.

WORDS: 5.5k

WARNING(S): Just fluff but involves cursing, name-calling, nicknames, mentions of celebrities/characters from the 70s, mentions of eating and food. || SECOND PERSON

A/N: can u tell this is kind of an indirect prequel to i’m a dreamer hsjsiw anyway i hope u like it!!! for @meiitanoia my beloved sirius black lovebot <3

[NAVIGATION] [MASTERLIST]

You woke up with a start. The curtains to your four-poster bed danced gently, as if attempting to put you into a trance. It worked: You watched it, transfixed more than ever until you slowly gained proper consciousness, or at least enough to let you yawn.

You reached out to push the curtains a bit to find that it was still night-time. You could hear light snores coming from your roommates, but you ignored it in desperate hopes of falling asleep again. You couldn’t; not that you didn’t want to, because you really did. The reason for your tossing and turning at this late hour was most likely because you slept around six p.m., an unideal hour for sleep on a weekday. You’d passed on dinner, and told yourself you’d just take breakfast early in the morning.

Giving up, you threw out your feet off the bed, feeling the cold surface of the floor. The clock told you it was half past eleven as it kept ticking and ticking and ticking.

Before you knew it, you were trudging down the deserted halls of Hogwarts, half-melted dark chocolate in one hand and your lightened wand in the other. You bought it from Honeydukes just last weekend on your visit to Hogsmeade. You didn’t know where you were going, but you just wanted to be somewhere else, maybe even do something exciting.

For cautionary measures, you looked in every direction every time you reached a turn in fear of getting caught by any roaming person of authority. Peeves would probably make a sound that’ll draw Mr. Filch’s attention; Mrs. Norris could appear, and that in itself is bad news already; Mr. Filch himself could catch you and start throwing insane threats; or maybe someone from the faculty could catch you and put you in detention, and you knew full well you did not want to spend time doing an absurd task.

When you managed to slip out unnoticed, you walked over to the bank of the lake, the rocks crunching under your feet. It was probably one of the things you find in horror movies when all is still, all is sleeping, and the monster is yet to come—

Your pulse skipped a beat when the sight of something running away from the forest shuffled past. You realized it was just a dog, but it gave you a shock nonetheless. Just a dog, you thought. Just a dog.

You pulled out the chocolate from your pocket, unwrapping it carelessly. It wasn’t until you took your first bite did you realize the dog was right behind you, watching you with curious eyes.

“I’d give you some but dogs aren’t allowed to eat chocolate,” you said to the dog, who then whined in response as it sat down. “I really can’t, I’m sorry.”

One might think a big black dog sneaking up on you in the middle of a night would cause a fright, but it was strangely more comforting than eerie. After all, it was just a dog.

Just looking at the creature reminded you of Snuffles, your very own dog who died while you were away from home and sitting in History of Magic, unaware your best bud had passed. You looked down hopefully at the dog in front of you.

“Snuffles?” you inquired hesitantly, reaching out your hand. Please don’t bite, you chanted more to yourself than to the dog. To your relief, it approached you gingerly and let you pet its head. “Is it you?”

Highly unlikely, you knew that, but it wouldn’t hurt to hope that it was, right? You’d spent your entire childhood with that dog: Sleeping together under a poorly done fort until daybreak; getting lost in the neighborhood together, earning disapproving opinions from the neighbors; and most of all, countless birthdays.

Well, just to name a few.

Maybe it was the moonlight reflecting off of the lake’s waters, but you could’ve sworn you saw the dog wink. You took your hand back to rub your eyes before studying the dog. “Are you Hagrid’s?”

The dog simply sat there, looking at you curiously. “Right, like a dog’s gonna talk back to me.” You chuckled, laughing at yourself. “Come, I’ll bring you back to him.”

It didn’t move. “Look, I can’t give you chocolate. Maybe I can sneak you some steak or something next time if you’re still here. I’d give you dog food but they don’t have that around here. But I reckon Hagrid has some, though. Do you want me to get you food?”

Once again, maybe (just maybe) it was only your imagination, but you got the sense that the dog disagreed. You didn’t push it any further and so you simply made yourself comfortable even under the rocks. You set down your cloak under your bottom to serve as a mat. It didn’t do much, but it was better. You gestured for the dog to come closer.

“I’m gonna call you Snuffles now,” you said as you picked up a stone. “Watch this.” With a swing of your arm, you sent the stone flying into the lake, skipping three times. “I used to be able to do four. You’d know, you were there!”

Snuffles your dog from years ago indeed was there with you when it happened on your family trip to your lake house, but this was not Snuffles; this was your very own classmate and Housemate, Sirius Black himself. He’d never talked to you before, much less noticed you, so it was a surprise to him that he’s spending his time with you at this late hour.

Nevertheless, it was a time well-spent even when it was mostly (entirely) just watching you skip rocks down the lake as you talked about the aforementioned Snuffles. He didn’t know how long you two sat there, but sat you did anyway. Twice he thought of a joke to tell only to be disappointed for of course, he couldn’t voice it out.

“I named her Snuffles because she used to cry a lot when we first brought her home from the shelter and mum didn’t want us to call her Sniffles so I went with the next best thing.” You put your legs in front of you. “Poor little thing.”

It wasn’t until the sky brightened a bit did you realize you were thirsty from all the talking you were doing. You would've stayed for the sunrise but, well, schedules would tragically overlap.

“Crap,” you thought as you began picking up your cloak, “I’ll end up dozing off in class! Anyway, I’ll try and bring you steak later, Snuffy.”

With a wave, you ran away from the lake, cloak in your arms, unaware that you had left your wand behind. Sirius was watching you until you disappeared from sight before he spotted the wand, which he then picked up.

He de-transformed on his way just a bit by a wall, and as soon as he did, he tucked your wand into his own cloak. He glanced back just for a second before running back to the castle. By the time he got to the painting of the Fat Lady, he halted at the sight of the girl from earlier — you.

“—you know me already, ma’am. I just forgot the password is all. Please let me in.”

“No password, no entry,” spat the Fat Lady. “And it does not do to wake up a sleeping person.”

“Well, you’re just a painting,” you mumbled. And if Sirius could hear it from where he was standing, the Fat Lady probably heard it too.

“Hmph!” exclaimed the Fat Lady. “Children are foul.”

“They are, aren’t they?” you chimed in hopes of getting on the Fat Lady’s better graces.

“I was talking about you, child,” said the Fat Lady with disdain. “Now scoot!”

You were about to walk away when Sirius decided to walk in. You froze.

It was only until then did it dawn on Sirius that he did not know your name because you had not told him anything earlier. He turned to the Fat Lady.

“Spondulicks,” said Sirius. The Fat Lady merely grunted as the painting swung open to reveal the room. “After you, m’lady.”

It was like he was seeing a different person; you refused to meet his eyes as you hurriedly walked into the opening of the painting, arms crossed. He was almost about to give you your wand but realized what a bad idea that would be, and so he kept his mouth shut.

You kept walking straight ahead, and Sirius had to stifle his laugh at the sight of you missing a step on the stairs to the girls’ dormitory, especially when your pace quickened after this.

That morning at breakfast, you were nowhere to be found. Sirius took his seat next to James while skimming the length of the Gryffindor table.

“What’re you looking for?” asked James, curiously scanning the table as well.

“This girl with [Y/H/C] hair,” Sirius replied absentmindedly as he slowly settled down, still looking for her.

“A girl? You’re gonna have to be more specific, mate. But bagsy snogging her.”

“What — you can’t bagsy her, you haven’t even met her,” spat Sirius. James was rather taken aback but still seemed to be stifling his laugh at the outburst nonetheless. Sirius cleared his throat. “And need I remind you that you’re trying to get Evans?”

“Mhm, I was just trying to see how interested you were in this girl to be preoccupied with looking for her instead of petting your hair.” More and more people began to file in to the common room and Sirius’s attention went to the door after determining you were not seated in one of the tables.

“It’s called combing, and you should try it.” Sirius ran his hand through his hair. “It would do you good to look fresh at least once.”

James snickered. “What can I tell you, Pads? The ladies like the rugged look.”

“I don’t think they do,” remarked Remus.

“Oh trust me, Remus,” James started with a smug grin. “They do. The key to it is—”

But Sirius never found out what ‘the key to it’ was; at least, not today. After a group of younger Ravenclaws walked in, he finally spotted you right behind them and his back straightened even more. For what, he did not know.

You took your seat beside a couple more Gryffindors and helped yourself to food on your own plate. You were busy rubbing her eyes, giving Sirius more time to watch. When you finished, you caught him looking at you, but he didn’t break the eye contact; instead, he smiled.

“Oh, her?” exclaimed James, trying to get a better look. Sirius gently kicked his foot at how obvious he was, but he nodded in confirmation. James blew a raspberry. “I can’t bagsy, can I?”

Sirius scowled. “No.”

“Then I call dibs.”

“Wha — that’s the same thing! You can’t just call dibs.” Sirius cleared his throat once more, for James was raising a brow to signify he’d proved his point. “You can’t.”

“Wouldn’t hurt you to go on over and talk to her, would it? After all, you do it all the time.” James stretched out his arms and made gestures of triumph. “Hook, sink, liner.”

“It’s actually ‘Hook, line, and sinker,’” said Remus.

“No it’s not. Get a load of this guy,” James joked (or not). “Anyway, come on, I’ll come with you. But I apologize in advance if my hair works better than yours.”

When they made it over to where you were sitting, you appeared to be manually wiping your plate with a tissue.

“Excuse me,” started Sirius, gesturing at the plate, “May I?”

Hesitantly and still not meeting his gaze, you handed him the plate. Sirius pulled out his wand and with a small flick, he said, “Tergeo!”

When he handed it back, you simply nodded your head in thanks and began to stuff it in your bag.

“Wait, are you stealing a plate?” James asked with a grin, on the verge of laughing. “You wouldn’t want to do that. See, our friend’s a Prefect and he’ll totally tell Professor Meownerva — pun courtesy of Peter, by the way.” James snickered. “I wish I’d thought of it first be—Ow!”

Sirius had stepped on James foot. “I’ll take it from here, Bambi.”

James managed a scowl before leaving the scene. You didn’t know what to do; so in your mind, you started devising ways to get yourself out of that situation: Make a run for it or melt on the spot; neither seemed like a good option.

“Why are you stealing a plate?” he asked.

“Er — long story. Have a good day.” Then you stood up and began to walk away, backing up a bit to grab a piece of sandwich before completely storming off.

When Sirius returned the other three were there, laughing out loud together.

James leaned closer. “Her name’s [Y/N].”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” exclaimed Sirius, annoyed.

“Hook, sink, liner,” said James confidently.

Remus cleared his throat again. “Again, it’s ‘Hook, line, and’—”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” dismissed James.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

On your first class (Transfiguration), the two of you clearly could not at all suppress your yawns: Sirius was doing fairly better compared to you, for he had the decency to not let his head plop face down on his desk, but he was sleepy nonetheless. This was no surprise to Sirius. After all, he hadn’t slept that morning. As for you, he did not know whether or not you slept but according to your peaceful and sleeping face, he kind of had a clue.

He wasn’t listening, and so when everyone brought out their wands, he just cluelessly followed the others. Professor McGonagall approached the middle row and stopped just right next to you.

“Miss [Y/L/N]?” started McGonagall. “If I’m not mistaken, bedtime ended hours ago.”

You merely grunted. McGonagall cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Miss [Y/L/N]?”

The professor put the back of her palm against your forehead. She lifted your face off the table and her eyes widened. “Heavens! Child, you look positively ghastly. Remus, kindly take—”

“I’ll do it,” said Sirius. “I’m her. . .” As he trailed off, all eyes went back and forth from you, McGonagall, and him. He opened his mouth again to add, “friend. We’re friends.”

Although McGonagall appeared to be reluctant, she let you go, advising you to visit Madam Pomfrey. Sirius risked a smug look in James’s way before following you out the door, eager to speak with you.

“So you’re feeling unwell?” asked Sirius.

“Look, buddy, I appreciate it but I honestly just want to go to bed.”

“Didn’t Minnie McG tell you to visit Madam Pomfrey?”

You halted. “I’m not sick.”

“What do you mean? What about the drowsy eyes and the head hurting and the red nose—?”

“Okay, now you’re making my head hurt.” You faced him, hands on your hips in defiance. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, Black: I’ll go back to my room and you’ll take a walk to the Hospital Wing and back to class.”

“But you’re sick.”

“Buddy, I’m really not,” you said with an irritated laugh. “I haven’t slept yet and I lost my wand. How do you think I’ll be able to go to class without a damn wand?”

Sirius scoffed. “Then what about your runny red nose and teary eyes?”

“Really? Are purebloods really that dense not to come up with basic ways to get out of class?” It was almost ironic. After all, you’d heard tons of brilliant things pureblooded wizards could do. Clearly they weren’t as crafty. You snorted. “Do you really want to know?”

“Do I? Of course I do.”

And with a bit of consideration, you recounted your gimmicks: collecting two chili peppers from the table and lightly patting your finger under your eyes to make it teary (it badly hurt), pinching your nose as soon as you left the Great Hall and sprinkling a bit of pepper on your sleeve to get yourself to sneeze, taking a quick hot shower without getting your hair wet, and more.

“Wow,” he exclaimed under his breath, astonished. You shrugged in response, turning around to walk away. “Wait, then why did you agree for me to take you instead of Remus?”

“Eh, well, your friend who’s trying so hard to be Michael Landon said that the Remus guy was a Prefect so I figured that he’s probably a snitch.”

“Trust me, he’s not a snitch,” Sirius said with a laugh. “Wait, I don’t even know who Michael Landon is but could you say that thing again but to James’s face tomorrow morning at breakfast?”

“No.” You turned your back on him, walking away. “May we never talk again.”

“You’re welcome, by the way!” He watched as you made a turn, disappearing from view before making a face. “Ungrateful chick.”

That entire day, you spent your time in bed, tossing and turning to keep yourself awake. Whenever someone came in during vacant time, you made sure the curtains to your four-poster bed were sealed shut while pretending to sniffle.

It was Friday, so you were thankful for the time to rest. You were thinking of just looking for your wand tomorrow when you remembered the dog. You shifted in your bed as you slowly stood up, peeking through the curtains of your bed. Your roommates were probably still in the common room, so you peeked your head out to grab your bag from beside your bed and pulled it in before shutting the curtains close.

You pulled out the plate you got from earlier that morning and waited.

Waited for your roommates to come in and chat for a while.

Waited until the lights went out.

Waited until the only sound you could hear was the ticking of the clock in the room.

You were about to fall asleep when what you could only assume was a bird hit itself against the window, jolting you awake.

It was dead silent. And just like you did hours ago, you threw your feet out of your bed. Going out at this hour without a wand felt threatening, but you reassured yourself, just thinking over and over that it would be just like old times back when you didn’t know you were a witch.

There was no one in the common room by the time you got down there. You tightened your grip on the plate in your hands, thinking about how good a weapon it would make (it probably wasn’t, but it was good enough to make you feel like you had a chance).

You slipped out, unaware once more of the same boy you had talked to the night before following you.

The walk down the halls and stairs without a light made your tour all the more frightening: Jumping when you accidentally graze your hand too much on one of the paintings which often earned an angry grunt from them, feeling for the next step of the stairs in fear of tripping over, and so on.

Sirius resisted the urge to just approach you and give you your wand, resorting to just staying behind to make sure you got out safely. He was about to keep going straight ahead when you made a turn, confusing him.

It took a few more turns for him to realize you were headed for the kitchens. He had to wait outside until you came back out a short while later with something in the plate.

Laughing silently to himself, he followed you again to the grounds, your wand in his cloak pocket, feeling like a hundred pounds weighing him down.

You went back to where you were last night, scouring the rocks in hopes of spotting a distinct shape among the round shapes. You cursed under your breath in disappointment as you set the plate of steak aside, your eyes falling to the dark surface of the lake. Gulping, you tied up the pant legs of your pajamas, mumbling inaudible words to yourself at what you were about to do.

Only your feet were in the water when you heard a loud bark, causing you to jump a bit, toppling backward at the sight of the black dog. You felt the water soak your back and a bit of your head.

“Snuffles?” you asked the dog whilst shaking yourself dry as you stood up. “There’s steak over there. It’s for you.”

If it weren’t for his physical state, Sirius would be laughing right now. The least he could do was walk your way, sitting right beside the plate of the steak.

“I know it’s not as good as I promised but it’s the best I could give, I’m sorry,” you said to the dog as it looked at you curiously. You bent down to pick up your cloak, drying yourself and wrapping it around you. With a huff, you squeezed the water out of your hair and sat down on the rocks once again. “I only came down here to look for my wand. It probably rolled down to the bottom of the lake already.”

You yawned. The lack of sleep was already taking a toll on you and you couldn’t let the sun rise before you could lie down in bed.

“Do you not like the steak?” you asked again. “You know, I got that plate for you.”

The dog’s ears perked up, and you reached out to pet it.

“Thank Merlin I got away from that fruitcake.”

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

“I’m a fruitcake,” Sirius told his friends that morning as they fell in line for their Hogsmeade trip. James looked at his friend as if he had gone mad (well, one can say he’s halfway there). “Out of all the things I could be, I’m a fruitcake.”

“Took you long enough to figure that out,” said Peter, who then brightened when James burst into a laugh.

“You sure?” said Remus, adjusting his tie. “If you are, then you’re far too salty to be one.”

“Guys, I’m ser—” He cut himself off, aware that they were waiting for an opening to pick fun at his name. “I am not joking.”

“Because you’re. . .?” James said, encouraging him.

Sirius let out an exasperated sigh. “Serious.”

And just like that, the entire group howled in laughter. Rolling his eyes, Sirius scanned the crowd again, but it was the same thing as yesterday — you were once again nowhere to be found.

“Wait, where did you get this fruitcake comment from?” asked Remus.

Sirius recounted your past encounters with him, earning a whoop of cheer and a pat from James.

“I have a plan,” said Sirius. “I’ll just so happen to ‘run into’ her in Hogsmeade and she’ll think I’m charming because I did my hair better today.”

“I don't know, I reckon it’ll be hard to jump from fruitcake puppy to charming knight and shining armor,” said Remus.

It wasn't until they were near the front of the line did Sirius realize there was still no sign of you. He then stepped out of the line, earning sudden protests from the rest of the group.

He made a show of waving at the other three as he disappeared from view before darting down the halls and up the stairs until he made it to the common room, where he plopped down on the couch. A couple of first and second years were gathered by the window playing chess.

Sirius kept his head down as he waited for you to come out until finally, about almost ten minutes later, heavy steps came from the girls’ dormitory as it descended down the stairs. Sirius kept his face down so as to hide himself for you, cursing at himself for being too. . .what’s a nicer way to put creepy again?

He followed you again like the night before, going over the things he wanted to say.

Hello, I’m actually Snuffles.

I’m Snuffles.

Hi, I’m not really a reincarnation of your dog because I’m actually a fruitcake!

It just kept getting worse in his head the more that he dwelled on it, and so he resorted to just focusing on his step when you halted, causing him to run into you.

“You,” you started, stopping with your finger pointed right at him, daring him to speak, “why are you following me?”

“Because. . .” Sirius trailed off. Why was he following you?

Because I'm Snuffles and I have your wand. Because I can turn into a dog. Because while I am Snuffles, I'm also not really Snuffles. Because—

“Because I found your wand,” he blurted out. “Well, consider it as a token of appreciation.”

“For what?”

“For being a good friend. . . ?”

“As far as I know, the first and only time we ever even talked was just yesterday,” you said, gesturing with your hands. “What’s your deal?”

“I want to take a walk,” Sirius relaxed, grinning at you.

“Then do it yourself!” you exclaimed.

“With you, I mean.”

Sirius’s tone calmed you down at least a bit, and so you cleared your throat. Come to think of it, he’s probably not that bad.

You began to walk with him on your way out to the grounds. “And what do I get out of this walking thing of yours?”

Sirius waved his hand with a flourish as we jogged ahead to stop right in front of you, tipping an imaginary hat. “Bragging rights, madam.”

You halted. “You’re gonna have to try better than that, Vinnie Barbarino.”

“Er — that’s good, right?” he asked, tensing up again as he composed himself.

“Depends on how you look at it.”

“Well, does he have nice hair?”

“Again, depends on how you look at it.”

“I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“You and me both, Vinnie,” you told him with a huff as you two set foot outside.

“It’s certainly better than fruitcake,” he muttered under his breath. You leaned in closer, your brow raised in question. He shook his head and told you it was nothing.

By the time you made it to the bank of the lake, you found yourself unconsciously searching the rocks for your wand.

Sirius snorted. “You can keep looking but it’s not there.”

“Wasn’t trying to.”

He watched as you bent down to pick up a rock and moved closer to the lake. Just like you did a few nights ago, you swung your arm to skip a rock. It was kind of like a movie for him; the way your shoulders sunk a bit after getting only three skips. “I used to be able to do four.”

I’d know, Sirius thought as he grinned at the irony. I was there. Maybe I really am Snuffles.

“So, when are you going to give me my wand?” You turned around to face him again, dusting your hands as you did so.

Sirius wanted to tell you about his alter-ego badly. But at the same time, it was right there and then Sirius realized something. He normally hated the idea of a routine; loathed it, even. But he figured that maybe, just this once, he could make an exception. He didn’t mind going out every single night as Padfoot or Snuffles if it meant the world to you to have something to look forward to. In fact, the line was starting to blur between all his names: Sirius Black, Onion, Padfoot, Snuffles, Fruitcake.

Sirius cleared his throat and told you, “Monday morning when you have breakfast with me.”

“I’m not gonna have breakfast with you.”

“You are now because you’ll get a coupon.”

“What coupon?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Bragging rights for spending time with me — Sirius Orion Black.”

“You’re awfully presumptuous.”

“Why are you so mean?” Sirius feigned pain by clutching his chest, making a show.

You bit your cheek in attempt not to laugh. “Look, just give me back my wand.”

“Give me your word that you’ll have breakfast with me first.”

“Fine,” you told him. “Now will you give me my wand back?”

Sirius let out a long sigh before taking a step forward and bending down to pick up a rock. He swung his arm backward as he made a shot.

One, two, three, four.

He faced you. “Hook, sink, liner.”

“It’s ‘hook, line, and sinker,’ how could you mess that up?”

“Damn it, James,” he cursed under his breath. “Anyway, here’s your wand.”

This definitely took you by surprise, especially when he pulled it out of his coat pocket and handed it to you with only a friendly smile and without any hesitation.

You grabbed it as fast as you could just in case he changed his mind at the last minute.

Sirius fought the urge to pick fun at the fact that this was close to what one may call fetch.

Wow, he thought. Merlin, I’m literally Snuffles. Sirius could hear his friends’ jeers light years away: Playing fetch with her, Snuffy? Will you also let her walk you? Oh, wait, you already did!

“Thank you,” you told him. “I was literally prepared to dive down there just to get my wand. I know what a big hassle it is to get it replaced and everything.”

“I know,” he said, pertaining to how he knew the lengths you were ready to go to just so you could find your wand, but you took what he said an answer to what you said last.

Sirius began walking again, and you followed. “Why didn’t you go to Hogsmeade with the others?”

“Eh, I’ve been there a lot of times. We’ll go there next time. I’ll take you to—”

You halted. “Woah, woah, who said I’ll be coming with you?”

“Time,” Sirius protested. “It tells you things even you wouldn’t be able to know.”

You scoffed as you kept walking alongside him. “Eh, well, we got Professor Trelawney for that. What do you say we visit her classroom and play with balls? I mean, orbs. No, stop laughing.”

But he didn’t stop. And honestly, neither did you; not even when you completed a turn around the grounds.

That night was a brilliant one: You were headed back downstairs, this time keeping your wand tight in your hand as you did so.

Just like as far as always can go, Snuffles sat by the lake, looking at the ripples that danced along its surface. Why did the dog suddenly look familiar?

You stood right next to Snuffles, who was now looking up at you curiously.

“I can’t stay for long,” you told the dog. “I have to sleep early, you know. I mean, you don’t, but — whatever.”

You bent down to pick up a rock again, watching it skip three times. You cursed under your breath, “How’d he do it?”

Snuffles, originally Sirius himself, snorted. You turned to the dog and shook your head, telling yourself it was your want of sleep playing tricks on you.

“Fruitcake’s actually not that bad,” you started as you picked up another rock. Sirius looked up again. “I think I’ll give him a chance.”

When you finally gave up on skipping rocks, you sat down right next to the dog. “He kinda left a ring of his, see?” You showed the dog Sirius’s ring. The dog blinked. “I’m not planning on keeping it, I’ll give it back to him on a good day.”

A bird flew by, causing you to jump a bit. “Yep, I’m gonna need to sleep this out. Go to Hagrid’s will you? Actually, no, come with me.”

You lead the dog to Hagrid’s hut and told it to stay there. Sirius thought it was funny seeing you boss him around in a gentler manner.

With a wave, you ran back to the doors and dashed up the stairs until you reached the dormitories, where you hastily got in your bed and tucked yourself in.

When breakfast came and you casually sat down right across from Sirius and beside James, a thought came to Sirius’s head again: He wanted you to know him as Sirius Black, no disguises involved. Sure, maybe he’d learn more of you if he continued doing it but . . . he wanted you to learn more of himself, too.

As for telling you his secret identity (not Batman), he decided that it’d be best to let his future self deal with it and just enjoy breakfast with you, which is hopefully just the first of many.

One last thing, though: Snuffles grew on Sirius. Safe to say that he got attached; so much that even when time told new people new fates, he found a way to let the name stay by using it as a safe codename as an attempt to become a lovable stray in the time of danger.

But that doesn’t matter just yet, not when the group was busy having one of the most brilliant Mondays to date.

Taglist: @gingerale2017 @sfdlm @maybanksslut @hey-there-angels @elevatorsdoor @mrzweasley @gwlvr @1-800-itsfreerealestate @marrymetheonott @booksarealwaysbettersworlds-blog @sexysirius @turn-to-page-394-please @greenlyblue @henqtic @badass-yn @meiitanoia @gaycatlord-stuff @just2bubbly @awakendevildays @dracomalfoyposts @crazy-beautiful @adoreyou976 @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

386 notes · View notes

even-after-a-millennia · 3 years ago

Text

Falling into a New Life

For @nilefreemanweek2021 and the alternative prompt Canon Divergent AU! Andy doesn’t get to the base in time, and Nile is on the plane to Germany and tests. When she dreams Andy calling Booker, what happens when Nile calls the same number? You can read it below or over on my ao3 account here. Gen | Rated T | ~2.1k

“Corporal Freeman,” the soldier’s voice cut through her music and brief moment of peace. “Been looking for you. Wheels up on your ride.”

“Yes, sir,” she said.

She felt a tightening in her gut, one that got worse as she flew away from base towards Germany. Towards more tests. Something was rubbing her the wrong way about all of this.

She hadn’t slept well since waking up in that hospital bed, so despite her nerves, she began to doze as the hours ticked by.

“She’s just a baby,” she heard a woman say, looking down at a sketch of Nile’s own face.

“Damn it!” A fist crashing into the side of a Humvee as a plane, the plane Nile was on right now, took off into the sky.

Numbers were being punched into the phone, then dialing. “Book, I didn’t get here in time. Word is she is being sent for more testing and you know what they will find. You have to cut them off. Get to her before they find out.”

The man closed his flip phone, turning to the other two men on the train.

“We need to get to Germany,” he said.

The plane rattled side to side and Nile woke, looking around frantically.

What was that? A dream? A vision?

She scrambled through her pockets, grabbing her notepad and writing down the numbers before she could forget them. Pulling out her phone, she looked furtively around the vast open area, but aside from her, the only other people on the plane were the two soldiers who had escorted her to the plane, sitting near the cockpit, and the pilots.

If she called this number and someone picked up, she would know she wasn’t crazy. And if no one did… then maybe it was a good thing that she was being carted off for testing.

Nile hit dial before she could stop herself.

It rang twice before a slightly accented voice answered, “Hello? Who is this?”

“What the fuck…” she whispered, pulling the phone away to stare at it. The call had connected, the seconds ticking by. She pressed it back against her ear, shaking her head slowly.

“Is this the Marine?” the man continued.

“Yeah,” she answered, her voice rough.

There was a rustle, then a different voice was speaking, “Can you tell us your name?”

A voice in the back of her mind was yelling about strangers and danger, but she didn’t think that the talks adults gave her as a child ever could have anticipated this.

“Nile,” she forced herself to say. “Corporal Nile Freeman. Who are you?”

“We’re like you, Nile,” a heavier accented voice said. “We want to help you, but first, you have to help yourself. You cannot get tested by those men. It will lead to something much worse.”

“I don’t understand,” she murmured, keeping her voice low to avoid the other soldiers hearing.

“You have to get off that plane, Nile,” the second voice said. “We will come and find you, we swear.”

“That’s insane,” she hissed.

“Welcome to the world of coming back from the dead,” the first voice said sardonically.

Holy shit.

That’s what had happened, wasn’t it? She had felt herself die. Dizzy had seen it. Everyone thought she was gone. They had even taken her dog tags to send to her family.

But then she had come back.

“Shit,” she whispered.

She looked around the plane and spotted the jump door and parachutes.

“No, this isn’t happening. This is some bullshit. Is this hazing or something? Is this fun for you?” Nile demanded.

“Nile, please,” the heavily accented voice said. There was so much emotion in his tone she stopped. “Please, you are not safe. I know you are scared and alone. But they will do horrible things if they discover you can regenerate. A jump off a plane is much better than an eternity in a cage.”

“I can’t go AWOL,” Nile said. “My family- I can’t do that to them.”

“Corporal Freeman!” One of the men who had brought her to the plane said, approaching. “I need to take your phone.”

She lowered it without hanging up, alarms ringing in her head. “What, why?”

“Protocol for testing. Could interfere with the machines.”

And he could be telling the truth, but the voices on the other end of the phone were getting desperate even though she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Are we that close?” she asked, buying time.

He shrugged. “Somewhere over Ukraine.”

“I’d like to give it to you closer to Germany, sir,” she said, trying to toe the line of defiance and deference.

“Orders are orders,” he said, reaching for it and this didn’t feel right, something was so wrong about this whole thing.

“NILE!” the voices on the phone shouted all at once, loud enough it reached her ear.

She ducked his grab and undid her seatbelt, sliding away from him.

He looked at her, considering. “C’mon, kid. Don’t make me break out the restraints.”

She stared at him. “What the fuck?!” she finally said, putting her phone in her back pocket. “Nah, nope. Come and get it.”

He swung at her and she ducked it and hit him in the ribs. He let out a grunt and bent over. She grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face into her knee, hearing a crack as he groaned in pain. He stayed down, clutching his nose.

“Hey!” The other guard had gotten up from his seat at the struggle and she turned to face him, trying to keep one eye on the other man.

The man took out his gun and pointed it at her. “You are under arrest for assaulting a superior officer.”

She raised her hands slowly. “In fairness, he started it,” she felt compelled to say.

He didn’t think she was funny.

“Stay still,” he said, taking a pair of cuffs out of his tac belt.

Nile looked at them apprehensively, because those were not standard to have for soldiers in her division, and so why the hell did he have them?!

She stood still, weighing her options. He holstered his gun, holding the cuffs in his other hand. She watched him until he was close enough to strike. She knocked the cuffs out of his hand and they flew down the plane. He tried to punch her but she parried it and went to dislocate his shoulder, but he kicked out and caught her in the knee. There was a crack and a searing pain, and she cried out, but kept fighting.

He drew his gun again and they grappled over it. She knew that she was losing the battle with one leg out of the game and pain fogging her mind.

His finger reached the trigger.

She felt the bullet go through her side and her whole body went momentarily numb as it was overloaded with pain. Nile fell to the ground, clutching her side.

The guard holstered his weapon and went to check on his buddy and get the cuffs. Nile breathed through the pain and then paused.

Something was going on with her leg.

She looked down as much as she could without using her stomach muscles that were still screaming and watched as her knee popped back into place, no longer inverted.

Her side started to hurt less, and she lifted her shirt to see the skin that the bullet had torn through slowly knit back together.

Regenerate. That’s what the man on the phone had called it.

Shit.

She pulled out her phone and spoke over the voices on the other side, “I’m jumping. We’re somewhere over Ukraine. I have your number.”

Then she hung up and put her phone in her zippered pocket, got up and ran at the parachutes and hit the button that opened the jump door.

“Corporal! Don’t do it!”

She looked back as she shouldered the parachute and clamped it into place. The soldiers were reaching out to her, trying to get to her in time.

Nile jumped.

She fell, waiting until she was well away from the plane to pull the pin to activate the parachute.

Nothing happened.

“Shit!” she said, trying to pull the backup, but it didn’t budge.

Had they purposefully put dud parachutes in the plane? Was this some kind of test? Or had this been a terrible coincidence?

She kept falling, spreading her arms and legs to slow her descent as much as possible. She forced herself to look down, scope out the area below her. There was a lake in the middle of a field, and she angled herself towards it, gritting her teeth. Neither option was good, but with no trees in sight to cushion her fall, she would splat either way. At least the water would eventually mask her blood.

Nile really hoped that she could actually come back from the dead, cause it didn’t look like she was going to survive this.

The water got closer and she forced her feet below her so at least she wouldn’t meet it head first. She tucked her arms close to her sides and felt herself shoot downwards faster than before.

She concluded, just before she hit the water, that any fall where she could think about how long she had been falling was too damn long.

Then everything was black.

The three men hopped off the train.

“She’s off the plane, haven’t heard anything since,” the blond said over the phone. “Said she was somewhere over Ukraine.”

The woman sighed on the other end. “Fine. We’ll meet in the middle and find her. Deal?”

“See you soon, boss,” the man said, hanging up.

“At least we will be able to keep Copley off our tail,” the man with a head of curls said.

“We will still need to go after him eventually,” the blond said. “He knows about us.”

“Nile first,” the man with the heavy accent and kind eyes said.

Nile gasped awake and immediately coughed up water. She was floating on top of the lake now, the waters around her red. She groaned as her body slowly knitted itself back together again, bones and organs recovering from hitting water so fast it felt like concrete.

“Ow,” she concluded once the last shift was done.

She turned her head, looking for the closest bit of shore, and starting off towards it.

It took a lot of effort to drag her waterlogged body onto the sand. She lay on her back, staring up at the sky for a moment.

Then she reached for her phone, only to find it cracked and even more waterlogged than she was.

“Shit!”

She pocketed it anyway, because she might still be able to recover the memory chip, even if the rest of it was worthless now.

Okay. Priorities.

Nile was still wearing her uniform, as wet and bloodstained as it was. She shucked off the long sleeve shirt of her uniform and surveyed the damage to the short sleeve brown shirt beneath. The cold water of the lake had washed away much of the blood that had been saturated in it, but she took it off and scrubbed a bit more, just to get as much as she could out.

There was still a hole where she had been shot, but she would deal with that if it came to it.

She found a large rock and tied her shirt around it.

Then paused. Rested her head against the rock and the uniform she was about to toss away.

She had been a Marine, like her dad before her. It hadn’t been an easy decision to join, not with how it had ended for her dad, the imperialism that was steeped into the US military, or the fact that she was a black woman and that would affect her entire experience. But it had been her life, her brothers and sisters in arms had been her family, and she felt like once she heaved this rock into the water, she would be irreversibly throwing that part of her life away too.

She breathed. Then she lifted the rock and with a grunt, sent it flying through the air. There was a large splash and it sank, taking her uniform with it.

Nile watched it go, her throat burning with emotions she couldn’t even name.

Then she turned to find the others who could regenerate like her.

#nile freeman #nileweek2021 #the old guard #canon divergent au #fanfic #my fic

104 notes · View notes

afriendlyblackhottie · 4 years ago

Text

Gorgeous

Summary: You’d spent the last year and a half pretending to hate Ransom Drysdale. One Christmas trip could break that facade.

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale x Plus Size!Black!Reader (though it’s pretty inclusive. It’s just what I had in my head when I wrote it)

Warnings: And there was only one bed, enemies to lovers, fluff, smut, swearing, secret crush, daddy kink

Words: 7K

(A/N: Yes. I pretty much wrote a Hallmark movie. Yes it is also based on Gorgeous by Taylor Swift because I’d also hate Ransom Drysdale for making me fall in love with his stupidly handsome face. No I will not be taking questions.)

Tagging: @titty-teetee @queenoftheworldisdead @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @harrysthiccthighss @mariahthelioness29 @donutloverxo @navybrat817 @stargazingfangirl18 @hqneyyincc @iam-laiya @zaddychris @emjayewrites

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

Contrary to popular belief, you didn’t hate Ransom. Sure, his smug smile made you want to punch him in the face sometimes. But you kind of liked the vein that popped out on the side of his head when you did something to irritate him. Or the way he rolled his eyes at you when you did something to annoy him. And you annoyed him a lot. It was like you couldn’t help yourself.

To be honest you kind of like those things too much. Not that you’d ever admit it out loud. Imagine everyone finding out that you had some little primary school like crush on this asshole. Down to the point where you’d push him into sand to prove that you didn’t like him in the slightest.

Since your best friend was marrying his best friend, you were spending way too much time with him. You thought you’d done a good job at convincing Monica, your best friend, that you absolutely couldn’t stand him. She seemed to buy it since every eye roll was appropriately placed anytime you thought you might laugh at one of his rude jokes.

So, when your best friend asked you to accompany her and her fiancé to visit his family, you were positive. It might be nice seeing how these super rich people did the holidays. You’d met them a few times and they’d been super nice. Nothing like how Ransom or your own boyfriend’s family came off as stuck up as hell. Also, you were kind of dying to see the decor.

Until that day came. “I’m sorry!” Ava said for the millionth time since she’d told you the news when she’d FaceTimed you. That not only was Ransom coming, you’d have to ride with him in his Beemer because she’d packed more than she’d expected and there’d be no more room in Simon’s car.

You groaned softly, wrinkling up your nose. Your cats rubbing themselves against you because they knew you were leaving and loved to get all needy when you did that. You were already having a hard morning so this was kind of the last thing that you needed. “Maybe I shouldn’t go,” you suggested, even though you were supposed to be leaving in about five minutes.

She pouted. “But I need you there so I won’t be bored.”

“You know David,” your own boyfriend who was not going with you because he had to work and also because you weren’t sure he’d be your boyfriend by the time you came home, “hates Ransom.” It still made for a good excuse, though.

“What he won’t know, won’t kill him?” She shrugged. “Look it won’t even be that bad! It’s just the car ride.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, for four hours.”

“Just do this for me,” she whined. “Please. I’d do it for you.”

“Fine, but next time my boss has one of those boring dinners at his house, I’m making you go with me.”

She gasped. “Deal!”

There was a honk outside and it was safe to say who it was. You rolled your eyes. “You’re so lucky I love you because I’m already annoyed.” You peeked outside the window to see him aggressively honking.

Fucking asshole.

Once you’d hung up with Ava, you grabbed your bags so you could hurry out of the house. Luckily David was already at work so you didn’t have to explain to him why you were getting in the car with him. Ransom seemed to like getting under his skin, which you’d noticed is what he did to most people. Including you, but it seemed to be for a different reason than most people had.

“Hey,” you greeted him, as you struggled to carry your stuff to the trunk. Even though you were trying to keep this facade up, you didn’t want to be rude.

“Can you hurry? We’re on a strict timeline, Buttercup.”

You hated when he called you that. “First, don’t call me that. Second, maybe I’d finish sooner if you’d help.”

There was this smirk on his lips as he finally opened up his car door so he could take one of the bags out of your hands and then the others. “Did you pack your entire closet?” He asked as he tried to make it all fit in the trunk.

“I have a lot of needs,” you retorted.

“That’s probably why you need that sugar daddy, huh,” he said. This is why David didn’t like him. Okay yeah maybe you’re twenty-six with a forty-seven-year-old boyfriend. Sure, he brought you nice things, but what was wrong with that.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you made a point to emphasize. You weren’t going to tell Ransom Drysdale that you were with your boyfriend because he was your daddy dom. That’d be fucking stupid.

“Look, sugar daddy boyfriend whatever,” he said, dismissing you. “I just think you should pack lighter.”

“Whatever. Aren’t we on a tight schedule or something?” You rolled your eyes before going over to the passenger seat.

“Hey, hey, hey!” He stopped you to open the door himself. “I don’t need you to scratch my shit. You have to handle with care.”

You tried not to laugh which made you bite your bottom lip instead making you taste the mint chapstick you’d just put on. “You’re such a control freak,” you said, having to brush passed him so you could sit.

He didn’t say anything as he closed it gently.

The ride had been pretty boring so far. You yawned a few times. Wiggled in your seat trying to get comfortable. He surprisingly pulled over to get you coffee and even got you your blanket so you could curl up at some point.

If you weren’t trying to hate him, you may have swooned. He also said it’s because he didn’t feel like hearing you complain so maybe less swooning anyway. You reached for the radio and he smacked your hand away. “Ow!” You gasped.

“I’m just fucking with you.” He laughed, glancing over as you glared at him.

“Dick,” you mumbled under your breath as you reached forward again to change the station.

“What was that?” He asked.

“I said you’re a dick,” you repeated, sitting down as a song you liked started playing.

He groaned. “I hate this song.”

“Too bad,” you snickered.

“Need I remind you that this is my car, Buttercup?”

You narrowed your eyes at him because he called you that damn nickname. “Whatever. At least it wasn’t that Dad stuff you listen to.”

“Should you really be the one making fun of Dads?” He laughed.

“Hey! David doesn’t even want kids.”

He raised his eyebrow. “You don’t?” He asked looking genuinely surprised at that.

“I mean... maybe. I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Do you?”

“Well, I hate kids, but maybe for the right women. Who knows?” He once again took a quick glance at you, with this small dorky smile on his face.

That was surprising. You felt yourself starting to get to where your heart was swelling in your chest. “Why are we talking about this, you weirdo.”

He chuckled as you cross your arms in front of your chest as you looked out the window.

For the rest of the car ride only the music filled the silence. You wanted to say something. Thought about at least trying. Every time you started to open your mouth no sound came out.

You’d look at him while he focused on the road. Just because you couldn’t like him didn’t mean you couldn’t look at him, right? Though it was bothering you that there was a hole in his cashmere sweater.

“I’ll open your door,” he said getting out. You waited for him to open your side, but you heard the trunk pop open. You turned around watching him take out your four bags along with his. How the fuck was he so strong.

He opened up your car door finally. “Do you want me to take some?” You asked him with a frown as he closed the door with his elbow.

“It’s okay,” he replied already walking off. You scurried behind him trying to catch up.

Ava and Simon were right behind you. Ave got out and went to hug you. “See I told you it wouldn’t be so bad,” she said. “Wait why is Random holding all your stuff?”

You shrugged. “He insisted.”

“Weird,” she replied.

Simon’s family was pretty nice, but they were so busy doting on the happy couple you were kind of ignored. It was actually kind of nice because when you met David’s family, they pretty much scrutinized everything you did. His mother was honestly the bane of your existence. Like, lady, if your son hadn’t had a kid by now how was that your fault.

That was another thing that made you treat Ransom the way you did. You’d met Linda a few times now and she already hated you. You could only imagine how she was towards his girlfriends. You’d only seen the tip of the iceberg of the insanity of the Thrombeys, though Harlan had been nice every time you’d met him.

“Okay, so, it turns out that one of Simon’s cousins decided to come at last minute and uh,” Ava took a deep breath, “you two have to share a room okay, bye!” She tried to grab Simon’s hand, but you managed to catch her first.

“What,” you said a little too loudly so you lower your voice, “the hell, Ava.”

“You’re shitting me,” Ransom groaned.

“It won’t be so bad just think of it as a sleepover. Maybe he can paint your nails and you two can do face masks together,” she started rambling off.

You weren’t as amused. “Or maybe me and you could share.”

“Hell no! I’ve slept in a bed with you. You’re a cuddler.” She frowned. “Besides I wanna sleep with my boo.”

“You’re the worst best friend ever,” you told her. “Fine, but he’s sleeping on the floor.”

“Like hell I am,” Ransom said.

“I have a boyfriend!” You reminded them. “I can’t sleep in a bed with another guy. Especially Ransom.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We’ve been over this, Buttercup. You don’t have a boyfriend; you have a sugar daddy.”

You huffed. “Alright that’s it I’m calling an Uber.”

“And paying a hundred bucks to get home?” Ava rolled her eyes. “Come on just tough it out.”

“I hope you know that I hate you now,” you told her.

“Good. We’ll work it out in couple’s therapy.”

—————

The first night was awful. It felt like you couldn’t sleep. While Ransom seemed to sleep like a baby on the other side of the wall of pillows, you’d built between the two of you.

Even when you’d tried to move away from him, he’d just hold you in place. At some point you just had to accept your fate. At least you were cozy. So, you just kind of let it happen because who knows if this could again. When you actually woke up, he was already gone. You were neatly tucked under the comforter.

As you were finishing up your face routine and making yourself look presentable, Ransom was coming back in. You’d never seen him with sweats on before because he was usually such a preppy asshole, but he looked good. “Morning.”

“Morning,” you mumbled.

“How’d you sleep?” He asked.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why? You didn’t do something did you?”

“Me? Never?” He smirked before walking passed you and into the bathroom.

You walked through the house, taking in the way everything was beautifully decorated for the holiday. Honestly this place was house porn. “Good morning!” Simon’s mom, Trish, greeted you as you walked into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” you replied with a grin.

“Did you sleep okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah, it was perfect,” you answered.

“Breakfast will be ready soon so why don’t you go wake up Simon and Ava.”

You nodded. “Yeah of course.” God they were too nice. Maybe you need to be around rich people more often.

Oh wait, no. David’s family came from money and they were awful. Also see Ransom.

Simon had come to answer the door, freshly showered. Ava was just coming out of the bathroom. “Morning,” he said.

“Morning. Your mom said breakfast is going to be ready.”

He nodded. “Okay. Babe, you ready?”

“You go ahead,” she told him. “Y/N, c’mere.”

You and Simon exchanged looks and he shrugged. “Guess I’ll get Ransom.”

Ava waited until he was completely out of the room before motioning for you to close the door. “So,” this shit eating grin appeared on her face, “how was it?”

“How was what?”

“Sleeping with Ransom.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “How was it?”

You shrugged. “We put a pillow wall up.” You really didn’t want to mention the cuddling.

“What? That’s it?” She groaned. “I always thought he’d be a bed hog.”

“I stayed on my side, he stayed on his.”

“That’s boring. I at least thought you’d have something to talk shit about.” She sighed. As far as you knew her and Ransom got along. She just found it super entertaining how you bitched about him.

The two of you went to sit in the dining room, waiting for everyone else. Trish sat down not to long after bringing the two of you mimosas. “Oh my gosh thank you!” Ava said getting up to hug her mother-in-law.

“Of course, Sweetheart.” She grinned. “So, Y/N, how long have you and Ransom been together?” She winked, bringing her champagne flute to her mouth. “I always said that Ransom just needs to find a sweet girl to settle down with. Maybe melt down that cold exterior he puts up. You know he really is a sweet boy.”

It was a good thing you hadn’t even been able to take a sip because you probably would have choked on it. “Her and Ransom aren’t together,” Ava answered before you could.

Her jaw dropped. “Oh, I just thought because you were fine sharing a room.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay.”

Ransom took a seat beside you while Simon sat on the other side of Ava. Trish looked between the two of you because this table was huge and Ransom could have sat anywhere else. He could have sat on the other side of Simon if he’d wanted to.

Breakfast went by pretty uneventfully, though the pancakes the housekeeper made were kind of to die for. “So, what are you kids planning for today?” Simon’s dad, Warren, asked as plates started being cleared away.

“Well, Ava’s never been ice skating,” Simon said.

“That’ll be fun,” Trish said. To be honest you were kind of nervous about ice skating. You’d done it before, but ate shit hard. “Is this your first time, too?” She asked you.

“No,” you replied. “I’m not very good at it, though.”

“I’m sure Ransom can help you,” she said with a grin.

Ransom groaned softly beside you. “Yeah of course.”

As soon as you got on the ice you could feel yourself going down. Ransom grabbed onto you to hold you up. “Don’t eat shit on me already,” he said with a smirk on his face.

“If I go down, I’m taking you with me,” you snap back at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Let’s just get this over with.”

It was a good thing you’d bought these leggings that were fluffy on the inside and this jacket you were wearing was cozy because it was freezing out here. Ransom had to

At some point you kind of started to think that you had the hang of it. Like maybe you could actually do it. He started to slowly let go of you, but the minute you started to feel unsteady he’d grab your hand. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he said sighing softy. He stood for a minute holding your hand so he could skate with you to the middle of the rink. “Hey can we talk about something. Really quick?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

“Hey, so,” he looked down at you with this almost nervous look on his face. “There’s been something I wanted to say, but I wasn’t really sure how to before.”

You nodded. “Yeah, what’s up.”

“Um,” he sighed. “Well, okay, so I-“ well he didn’t get to finish as this asshole barreled into you. “Y/N!”

You hit the ice pretty hard almost bouncing up as you came back down. “What the hell!”

Ransom immediately helped you up. “Watch where you’re fucking going!” He yelled back after the guy who’d already started skating away without even saying sorry. “Are you okay?

“My leg like hurts really bad,” you felt yourself tear up because you’re a little baby.

He sighed. “Shit, okay,” he said. “Are you okay to stand?”

“Oh my gosh!” Ava came over to the two of you. “Are you okay? I told Simon to go tell security. That guys been such an asshole this whole time.”

“Yeah thanks,” you said.

“Here why don’t we got some hot chocolate,” Ransom said.

It felt so nice being back in your boots. Ransom had you sit before going to get the drinks. You couldn’t help yourself as you rubbed over the spot on your leg that had been hurting super bad. Wincing at the tenderness.

“How’s your leg?” Ransom asked, sitting beside you with the steaming beverages in hand.

You brought your cup up to your mouth loving the warmth against your cold nose. “It’s fine,” you answered.

He reached down to touch the spot making you jump. He laughed. “Wow usually I have to get a girl naked before they start reacting like that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to play off as annoyed, but it didn’t work since you couldn’t help yourself as a smile spread on your face. “Oh, shut up.” You blew at the steam before taking a sip. “So, what did you wanna talk to me about?”

“It’s.... it’s nothing,” he said picking at some lint on his coat, suddenly getting all quiet. He took a sip of his own drink.

Here’s where you made a mistake. Which is the mistake that got you into this in the first place. Because every time you looked into his eyes, seeing those long lashes framing those deep blue eyes made you feel like you might drown in them.

And you fucking looked into them. After that first time you told yourself to never do that again. That it’s what made you trick yourself into thinking that you liked him the first time. No. He was just so close.

You pretty much fought yourself on this for the rest of the day. Even during the little shopping trip that the two of you dragged the boys to when you’d been debating with yourself if you wanted to buy this gorgeous coat or this really dress. Not that you needed more of either.

“Here just get both,” Ransom grumbled, taking out his card.

“What!” You gasped. “No, I can’t ask you to do that!”

He shook his head. “It’s okay. Just wear it for the Christmas party.”

“But I already have a dress,” you said.

“Look, I’m sure your sugar daddy buys you very nice things at Forever 21, but I insist.”

You rolled your eyes as he quickly handed the worker his card. “Hey!”

“Too late,” he replied with a shrug that smug smile on his face.

You looked down at the glass as your things were being wrapped up nice and neat. The gold necklace had a diamond moon pendent. It looked so delicate and would have gone so good with that dress.

“You like it?” He asked, noticing.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful,” you said. “But this is already too much.”

“C‘mon, we have to get back for dinner,” Ava said as Ransom grabbed the shopping bags.

—————

At some point every night the pillows would end up on the floor and you’d end up nestled into the crook of his neck. He’d have his arms around you until you’d roll over onto your side where he’d wrap himself around you again. Then you’d wake up to him gone because he went on his runs at the ass crack of dawn. You noticed how you’d be snuggly tucked into bed each time.

A part of you wanted to feel bad. That you were away and cuddling with another man every night. It was hard to feel guilty when you weren’t sure if your boyfriend was taking advantage of you being gone not that he knew that you knew. He was probably in some club, too, doing you don’t even want to know what. You knew when you left that you may be going home to end things.

You were trying not to think about it. Hell, you hadn’t even told Ava. You wanted everyone to have a good holiday and not worry. Besides you wanted to have fun. Which is why the four of you were going to some club tonight.

The four of you had went to dinner at this really nice restaurant. There were a few times when you’d caught Ransom looking at you all weird. “What?” You wrinkled your nose.

He cleared his throat before going back to picking at the salmon on his plate. “Nothing.”

As the drinks finally started flowing, you started to get a little loose. Ransom was sitting beside you being all sulky as he sipped from the glass of whiskey on ice.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him. Okay to be honest maybe you were more than a little loose, but you were just trying to have some fun.

“Nothing.” He glanced over at you then back to his drink.

“Hey,” this girl sat on the other side of him. “My friend was wondering if you wanted to dance.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why couldn’t your friend ask me herself?”

“She’s a little shy, but she’s cute.”

Ransom glanced over at you. “Nah. I’m just sitting here with my friend.”

The girl pouted, but finally left. You snickered. “I’m just sitting here with my friend,” you mimicked. “What too cool to dance?”

“Because I don’t know. I didn’t feel like it.” He shrugged then took another sip of his drink. “Do you wanna dance maybe?” He finally looked over at you and you were almost hypnotized, but managed to keep your composure.

“With you?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, Buttercup, with my grandpa.”

You laughed once again ignoring the nickname. Maybe it was kind of growing on you. It only took a year and a half. You stood up. “Fine, but you better not stomp on my feet.”

“I might on purpose.” He got up standing in front of you. For a minute you thought he might kiss you until he grabbed your hand to pull you onto the dance floor.

You didn’t want to admit this either, but you were having fun hanging out with Ransom. Ava and Simon were understandably in their own little bubble of love and you didn’t want to interrupt.

After the club Simon had the bright idea of going in the hot tub to warm up. Since you were all a little tipsy that sounded like a great idea.

You had to wear your long sweater out of the house since it was freezing. You in your own little space while Ransom seemed to scoot way to close to you. The four of you were just talking mostly. Enjoying the hot water after being in the freezing cold.

All of you were talking when Ava gave Simon a kiss, which got deeper to the point where they were showing you way more than you needed to see. “I think I speak for both of us in that we really do not want to witness the two of you procreating,” Ransom said.

Ava made a face at him while Simon laughed. He whispered in her ear where she pecked his lips again. The both of them started getting out right after. “We’ll see you two in the morning.” He grinned.

“Goodnight!” She said.

“Night,” you and Ransom said in unison.

You went to the side that your incredibly horny friends had been on which had been across from him. His eyes were closed with his head tilted back. You splashed water at him making him jump a little.

“Hey!” He splashed you back. You laughed as you did it a second time. “Alright, alright,” he said.

You did it again for good measure. “Can’t have someone seeing you have too much fun.”

He went back to his previous position this time putting his muscular arms on the ledge. You wouldn’t care to admit how long you stared at his biceps and shoulders. Then taking the quickest glance at his abs. Then that neck that you kind of wanted to put your mouth on. This is bullshit.

Why was he allowed to be this hot? It couldn’t be enough that he was an asshole. He had to be hot about it. Okay you looked at his pecs and tried to see if you could get a glance of what may have been in his swim trunk. Whatever.

“What are you doing?” He caught you, a smirk appearing on his annoyingly perfect face.

“It’s called minding my own business,” you replied. “You should try it.”

He laughed. “You’re such a brat.” You shrugged turning your head to look at nothing. “Is that what your sugar daddy sees in you?”

“He’s not my sugar daddy. I mean he buys me things like for my birthday, but... that’s not what our relationship is about. I don’t even know if we are in a relationship anymore.” You don’t know why you were spilling all of this to Ransom of all people.

Ransom frowned. “What happened?”

You looked down and sighed blowing out your cheeks after. “Well...” you sighed again. Your stomach was turning now. “You have to take it to your grave.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

You sighed, biting your lip weighing in your options. On one hand it wasn’t Ransom’s business. You really hadn’t told Ava this. You didn’t want her to worry.

“So, he’s not my sugar daddy,” you said, hoping he got the hint.

You could tell he did by the grin on his face and the way he raised his eyebrows. “You?” He explained. “No there’s no way and here I always thought you’d be boring in bed.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up no you didn’t.”

“I took you for a dead fish kind of girl,” he teased. “It’s always the cute ones.”

Your eyes widened at what he said. Then so did his when he realized what he said. “Anyway, so yeah that’s how we started off as,” you decided to ignore what he’d just said.

“Alright so go on.”

“Yeah, so it turns out I’m not the only one,” you said. “He’s been going to these clubs and he doesn’t think that I know.”

His jaw dropped. “This is the plot twist I really wasn’t expecting. I gotta tell ya.”

You shook your head. “Shut up.” You splashed him again.

“Stop!” He laughed, doing it back to you.

As you kept splashing at him, he came over to you, grabbing your hands to keep you from doing it again. “Let go of me.” You laughed.

“No.” He wasn’t laughing anymore. Just looking at you. Fuck he was putting you under his spell. You were supposed to not looking into his eyes. How did you make this mistake so many times? “Y/N, I... don’t make things weird.”

“What?” You laughed.

“Yeah. Don’t make this weird,” he said again softly before brushing his lips against yours finally.

“And here I’d always heard that you were a ladies man, Ransom,” you teased. “That was kind of weak.”

“Yeah, well maybe you bring out the worst in me.” A dopey smile had spread across his face. It was okay because there was one on yours too.

“Oh whatever.” You rolled your eyes still smiling. He leaned over to kiss you again but you put your hand against his lips to stop him. “I’m getting kind of tired actually.”

You walked back to your room. All wrapped in your sweater because fuck it was freezing now. You also wouldn’t say this out loud, but his lips felt really nice. As you made it to the bedroom the two of you were sharing, he came on not too far after, grabbing your arm to pull you into a kiss. He’s so dramatic.

As his lips worked against yours, you wrapped your arms around his neck. He felt so good. You can’t remember the last time David kissed you like this. “Fuck it’s actually really cold,” Ransom said.

You laughed. “I know I’m freezing.”

“How about we take a shower,” he said. “Maybe we could save some water together?”

“Oh yeah. We would totally be helping the environment.”

He grabbed you hand to lead you the rest of the way. You pulled off your wet clothes. As soon as you felt time hot water on your skin, you moaned. “

Jesus Christ, why not shower in hell,” he hissed.

“I’m already there.” You threw your arms around his neck. He leaned down to kiss you again. Pawing at your ass. He was so close this time.

You tried to act like nothing had happened as you finished getting ready for bed. As you got all settled under the covers, you felt your body finally start to warm up. He slid in next to you. This was the first time that you didn’t even attempt to put the wall of pillows up.

He pulled you all close to him. “You little shit! Are you naked?” You gasped.

He laughed. “Yeah. I don’t even know why you bothered.”

“Who said I was going to do anything with you?”

“Well, what if I tell you that,” he said, grabbing a handful of your ass, “I actually maybe sort of have feelings for you.”

Ah fuck.

Well, obviously.

But, ah fuck.

Why were you supposed to hate him again?

Because he was a giant asshole. He was rude to the help. Rude to everyone. Even you. Yet you still liked his stupid smug smile. That annoying laugh. You liked how he’d been surprisingly good company for this whole trip. Liked how he was holding you right now. You were pretty sure he could get an ugly haircut and you’d still like him. How he looked at you even when he was irritated with you.

Waiting for you to say something back.

“I... I have feelings for you, too.” You bit your lip after like you were nervous about what he might say back.

“Yeah?” He said with another dopey smile covering his face.

You nodded right before he bridged the gap first. Pressing your lips to his. His mouth moving ever so softly against yours. Like he was afraid you’d run away if he moved to quickly.

You deepened it and he finally pushed you down on your back. Ransom grabbed the back of your leg so you’d wrap it around his waist. Fuck he was already growing against you. “I still can’t believe you got dressed,” he pulled away to whisper in your ear. “You should have known I was just going to take everything off.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ever think that’s part of the fun.”

He chuckled before kissing you again. “Oh yeah?” He pulled away so he could start pulling down your sleep shorts. “You wanted me to take your clothes off?” You nodded, looking into his eyes. He hissed. “Didn’t even put-on panties, dirty girl.”

You laughed. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, I really, really like it.” He reached down to rub his hand up and down your slit. “What a pretty little pussy.”

You gasped. “Fuck.” His hands felt so good on you. He’d barely even touched you and it felt so, so good. Finally, his finger grazed your clit. He traced along it in a circle. “Stop teasing me!” You whined.

“Be patient, Buttercup.” He smirked.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Shit,” he stopped, “I don’t have a condom.”

You shrugged. “I’m on birth control.”

He smirked. “Yeah, you want me to fuck you raw, Baby. Want me to cum in you?” He leaned back down to kiss your neck this time. His thumb was pressing into your clit now. Going on sweet, sweet circles. He stopped for a minute to pull off your top.

When you were fully naked and he finally put his mouth on your nipples, you needed him to just fuck you. “Please, Daddy,” you whimpered.

He went back to kissing your neck. “Yeah? You want me to be your daddy? Want me to take care of you.”

“God, yes.”

He lined himself up at your entrance. Looking into your eyes as he started to push into you. You closed your eyes tightly. “No, no open your eyes. I want you to look at me while I fuck you,” he commanded.

You nodded doing as you were told as he made you stretch over the thick head of his cock. You were so fucking wet just from him touching you like that. Your skin felt like it was on fire. You cried out as he inched into you. Fuck he was bigger than you’d expected. He was making you feel so full.

“Ransom,” you whimpered, he started out with shallow thrusts not going all the way in.

“Fuck, you’re fucking tight,” he groaned. “Can you even take it?”

You nodded. “I can take it, Daddy.”

He steadied his hips before finally shoving himself all the way inside of you. You gasped as he started fucking into you going so deep. Little droplets of tears formed in the corners of your eyes.

He was fucking you so good, your brain went blank. All you wanted was him. Wanted him to never stop fucking you. “Oh my god,” you whined.

“Yeah. Feels good?”

You nodded as you tried to take it. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Daddy making you feel good?” He panted. “Daddy’s gonna always make your pussy feel good, Baby. I’m gonna take care of you. Buy you whatever you want. Give you every fucking thing your boyfriend wouldn’t.”

Your pussy was gripping his dick like a vice. How were you so close already. “Please?”

“Is that what you want?” He asked in that condescending voice, you’d always hated, but fuck he was going to make you cum because of it. “Want me to buy you nice things. Be your boyfriend. Give you a fucking family.”

If he wasn’t balls deep inside of you, you would have probably reacted differently to him confessing that he wanted something with you. More than just this, but fuck hearing it like this only made you that more far gone. “Yes!” You moaned a little too loudly.

He clamped his hand over your mouth to shush you. “Shhh, Baby. You don’t want everyone to hear you getting dicked down do you? Want everyone to hear me fucking you?”

You shook your head, but stopped as you tilted your head back because you couldn’t stop it. Your eyes got all glazed over as your orgasm hit.

“That’s it, cum for me.” He breathed. “Fuck. I’m gonna cum in your pussy.”

“Yes,” you whimpered. You could feel him so deep in your stomach. You can’t remember the last time you got fucked like this. No one else had ever been able to do this to you.

As he finally couldn’t hold out anymore, cumming deep inside of you he still moved his hips. Making sure you got all of him.

He laid on top of you for a minute, not pulling you as you both came down from your orgasms. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. How the hell were you going to explain this to everyone.

He rolled beside you before pulling you into his arms. You rested your head on his shoulder. Still trying to catch your breath. “Fuck.” He laughed.

You chuckled. “I know.”

“Why did we wait so long to do that again?” He asked.

“Because I hated you.” You didn’t mean to let out a bigger laugh because your lower half was way too sore for that.

He rolled his eyes. “Bullshit. No, you didn’t.”

“I wanted to.”

“Brat.” He chuckled. “I just... I meant everything I said.”

“What?”

“That I wanna be with you...” he replied. “That I wanna make an honest woman outta you.” You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain that damn facade. He was making it hard because this smile spread across your face. “I’ll even let you live with me when you pack your shit out of that old man’s house.”

“Moving so quickly? Ransom, I’m shocked at you.”

“Look, I’ve put up with your shit for a year a half already,” he explained, “I already know that I want you.”

“You fucking sap!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Why don’t you suck my dick about it?” He rolled his eyes.

You shrugged. “Okay.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

----------

You didn’t fall asleep until the sun was already coming up. Every time you tried before that; Ransom would start kissing your neck. You were exhausted, but satisfied in a way you hadn’t been in a long time.

You woke up to rustling on the bed. You tried to feel for him because although you were still cozy you wanted his warmth, but he wasn’t there. “Ransom?” You yawned, peeking your eyes open to him fixing the comforter.

Oh.

“Hey, Baby,” he said with a smile on his face. He leaned over to kiss your forehead. “I gotta go, okay. I have some errands I have to run.”

You nodded, before wrapping your arms around him. He held you to him tightly kissing your forehead more. “Do you have to?”

“Mhmm,” he replied. “I told Simon I’d help him with this surprise for Ava

“Okay. I love you,” you replied sleepily before dozing off again. He smiled down at you before laying you back down, kissing your forehead before leaving.

You woke up again to Ava jumping up and down on your bed. “Get up!” She cheered.

“What are you twelve?” You grumbled. Then your eyes cracked open when you fucking realized you’d told Ransom that you loved him. “Oh no.”

“What? Wait, are you naked?” She raised both of her eyebrows as she got settled beside you in bed. “Did you and Ransom...”

You shook your head, suddenly feeling like you might puke. You fucking told Ransom Drysdale that you loved him. “What? No. I just got really hot last night.”

“Where’s your pillow wall?” She asked with a smirk.

“We were too drunk last night to remember?”

“Bitch, you slept with Ransom Drysdale!” She gasped. “What about David?”

“Um... David and I are... I was already going to end things with him.

This annoyingly shit eating grin spread across her face. “You dirty slut. Okay, well, I don’t think Simon would mind if you stayed with us until you got back on your feet.”

“Actually, I already found a place. I just... I didn’t want to ruin your fun, ya know.”

She sighed. “Y/N, I’m your best friend. Your problems are my problems. I wouldn’t have cared if you told me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You smiled.

“So...” another smile spread across her face, “how was it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking.” You laid back down, turning on your side and ignored her as she continued to ask questions.

You got your nails done with Ava, Trish, and Simon’s sister. Still thinking about what you’d said to Ransom. Nerves had started to settle in that you’d done something wrong. Raking your brain trying to remember if he’d even said anything back. You couldn’t remember.

It was Christmas Eve now and there was supposed to be this super fancy party today that the family apparently threw every year. Of course, you were going to wear the dress Ransom had bought you. There was no question. It fit in more. Besides okay maybe you wanted to look pretty for him whatever.

Neither him or Simon had come back by the time everyone started getting ready. You did your makeup in Ava’s room before going back to yours to get dressed. The was a knock on the door as you’d just finished.

“Hey,” Ransom leaned down to kiss your cheek lightly to not mess up your makeup. Setting down a little gift bag on the bed. “You look... you look beautiful.”

You were going to have to get used to him being nice to you. “Thank you.”

“Sorry, it took so long. You know Simon. Has to go above and beyond.” He chuckled.

You waited for him to get ready, checking your phone. David had been texting you throughout the trip. Not that you ever responded. You thought when you’d get to the end of this trip, you’d be dreading the drive home. Instead, you were hopeful of what was to come.

"So, I kind of got you something,” he said before the two of you could leave the room.

You frowned. “I didn’t get you anything back.”

“That’s okay. I don’t think either of us were expecting this,” he replied. “I just wanted you to know I was serious about everything.”

“Okay.”

He clenched his jaw as he grabbed the bag he’d placed, taking out a jewelry box which he handed you. You looked up at him with those big eyes. “I saw you looking at it at that store so...”

“You’re such a sap,” you sniffled.

He smiled. “I just... when you told me I love you this morning, I didn’t say it back. I wanted to say it when I gave you this so... I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded and he pulled you to him, hugging you tightly. You really didn’t want to mess up your makeup so you forced yourself not to tear up. Except lipstick be damned because you were not, not going to kiss him.

It was taking you everything to not hold his hand as the two of you walked into where the party was starting to pick up a little. He looked so cute in his red sweater. Simon and Ava were being doted on by his grandparents.

“So, Ava kind of figured it out,” you said as he handed you a glass of champagne.

“How?” He asked.

“You didn’t lock the door and I was still naked under the covered.”

He snickered. “Should have given her an eye full.”

You shook your head. “I’ll give you an eye full.”

“You already did, Buttercup.” He shrugged.

“Why do you call me that?” You rolled your eyes.

His face started to get all red. You’d never thought in all your days you’d see Ransom blush. Between the two confessing your feelings for one another, of you having sex, you accidently telling him you love him, and him telling you that he wanted to be with you, making him blush made you feel like you’d won whatever game the two of you had been playing.

He sighed. “Well, okay, so when me and my cousin Meg were younger, she was obsessed with the Powerpuff Girls. I didn’t want to admit that I kind of liked it. Your bad attitude reminds me of Buttercup. She was my favorite.” He rolled his eyes looking away from you like he was embarrassed.

“You’re shitting me.” This smile spread across your face.

“Shut up.” He wrinkled up his nose.

“Never would have guessed that under all that wool and assholeness was a sweetheart waiting to burst out of the seams,” you teased him.

“You’re so lucky I think you’re pretty or else I think I might drop kick you.” He sighed.

----------

Christmas Day passed by nicely and easily. Mostly with everyone relaxing. You spent most of it tucked into Ransom’s side drinking hot chocolate watching Christmas movies with everyone because at this point the two of you are just a cliche. Which was fine because you liked it.

He’d whisper I love you in your ear. Or pull you under the mistletoe because he’s corny. Ava and Simon teased you while Trish swore that she called it, which she kind of did.

When it was time go home you were a little sad. You liked being in this little bubble with him. Now you’d have to go home and deal with having to officially break up with David and having to talk Ransom out of taunting him. Of course, Ava and Simon offered up their place until you got on your feet, but him being him pretty much demanded that you live with him.

Normally you would kick yourself for moving so quickly and you don’t know why, but you saw something in him. Of course, you weren’t going to be able to move all of your stuff out today, but there were two very important things that you needed. David wasn’t even there when you got home. He was probably still at his parents.

“Hope you like cats because I’m not leaving them,” you’d told him as you packed them into their carriers.

He groaned, throwing his head back. “Fine, but you’re giving me a blowjob as soon as we get home.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you said before placing a wet kiss on his cheek just to annoy him.

“Hey, you wanna have sex in his bed before we go?” He asked with a smirk.

“You’re an awful person, you know that?” You put your hands on his chest. “Of course I do.”

“God, I love you.” He grinned before pressing his lips to yours.

#ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale x black!reader #ransom drysdale x black woman #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x plus size!reader #ransom drysdale x black!plus size reader #chris evans smut #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x plus size reader #happyhoelidays2020

801 notes · View notes

gildedmuse · 3 years ago

Text

Hey, everyone.

So recently I've (predictably) very not well. Actually, whenever I don't post for long periods, just assume my body is trying to kill me. But I've gotten messages from three people asking if I. Okay, which is super sweet. I am actually trying to work on the next All Hearts, a really long ZoLaw post and two request fics, but mixing chronic kidney pain and capitalist society's mandate to work 40+ hours is not recommended.

But to prove I'm okay and still me, here is some Shanks antics with him being a total slut while Mihawk and Beckman just roll their eyes and go along with it. [Shout out to @jhaernyl who not only listens to me ramble about this stuff, but actively encourages it]. I also have many thoughts on the latest episodes and so many screenshots it's embarrassing. Hopefully, when I'm in less pain, I'll get around to actually posting those. Otherwise I just look like an insane person who literally takes by the second frame shots every time Zoro is on screen.

.... What is that? I look like that anyway? Fair.

Shanks Is A Bad Influence

It feels like Buggy and Shanks split up after Roger's death (the crew was told to, and they are the only ones who went to his execution) and I find it impossible to think Shanks didn't immediately set out and find a crew; like, pirating is the only thing this kid knows in life. This means two things:

He set out from East Blue. Also, he seemed at ease and familiar with the East so it's possible he spent like a year there getting everything together. Maybe he even played around in the other blues for a while before heading back to the Grand Line. I say this because his crew is from all over so either he found and recruited them in the Grand Line or visited various blues. Either way, I'm gonna say it took him about two years before getting a 'proper' start. In that case, he would have started out properly at the age of 17 and we know One Piece likes it's parallels.

That still puts Shanks at 17 to Benn Beckmen's 28. How the fuck did Shanks manage that? I'd call it grave robbing, but let's face it, the little tyke probably got up to some actual robbing of graves as well.

My point being everytime Shanks teases Mihawk about keeping this 19 year old kid on his personal island, mostly shirtless, Benn Beckmen just lifts an eyebrow.

Excuse me, captain, who had prefected the 'opps still don't have my sea legs' trip-and-fall into their first mates lap by the age of 17?

Shanks: Beckmen, you caught me! *Shamelessly nuzzles up* Thank goodness! I could be a devil's fruit user after all and - Ahh!

Benn: *Drops Shanks straight over the side of the ship into the water*

Shanks: *Sputtering* What what that!?

Benn: Checking to see if you had eaten a devil's fruit on us, Capatin.

Benn: You didn't.

Smart ass. But he can't resist Shanks forever. Shanks will wear him down eventually.

Next time Mihawk tracks him down for another match - because you know he gets bored way quicker than he'll ever admit and Shanks is at least amusing a challenge - Shanks makes a big deal out of how Mihawk follows him around, "accidentally" revealing they slept together, sighing about how it's so hard to resist him.

Benn Beckmen is just leaning against the side of the ship, sipping his booze.

Shanks: -and I can't stay for hours like last time!!

Mihawk: Are you quite done?

Shanks: *whispering* Does Benn look jealous?

Mihawk: He looks bored. Much like I am. Is this some strange attempt to get out of my challenge, Akagami?

Shanks: What? No, come on I told you I was game. But, hey, could you do me a favor? Maybe like try and kiss me or something? Like take a swing like your going to hit me but then stop shot and grab me by the waist instead.

Mihawk: .... Trickery is beneath you. Besides, you're absolute rubbish at it.

Shanks: Oh, come on, I would totally help you get laid if you asked!

Mihawk: .... *Sigh* I want a proper match afterwards.

Mihawk: *In a forced, monotone voice* After this I will take you to my lair and have my way with you, Akagami.

Mihawk: ... My lair? Really?

Shanks: *Holding up cue card with quickly scribbled line* What? That is how you talk.

Mihawk: I can't believe I wasted precious hours of light tracking you to this atrociously rural port.

Shanks: See? Now, read the next one.

Benn: Captain? If this is going to take all night, I am going to go join the rest of the men in the tavern.

Shanks: Huh? Wait! Benn! What if Miha really stabs me this time!?

Benn: *Salutes Shanks with his bottle* Sounds like that is his plan captain. Have a good 'challenge'.

Shanks: What? No... *Reaching out hand, like he might die if Benn leaves, looking completely devastated* Not even a little jealous...

Mihawk: You couldn't have thought that pantomime would actually work.

Shanks: Benny, don't leave me.... *Turns to Mihawk, immediately brightening* Oh, well, there's always tomorrow. Hey, Miha, guess whose free all night and horny as a pirate in the calm belt?

Mihawk: .... *Sigh* Very well.

Mihawk might as well get something for the trip he made. Although, he's reconsidering if the sex was actually worth the trouble after he ends up listening to Shanks worry half the night that Benn is shacking up with someone else (after a couple hours of rough and raw fucking, admittedly).

Is it the hat? He likes his captain's hat. Miha, you think his captain's hat is sexy, don't you?

Mihawk: It's utterly ridiculous.

Shanks: ....

Shanks: *Smile* Ahh, Miha, I knew you liked the hat!

Shanks: What do you old Northerns find sexy?

Mihawk: I am only four years older than you.

Mihawk: And silence.

Trying to convince Mihawk to go spy on Beckman for him. Shanks doesn't actually care if he does sleep with someone else, it's more that Beckman didn't immediately turn angry and jealous like Buggy would have that has him paranoid.

Mihawk is going to fuck this annoying red head again just to shut him up.

Mihawk: Maybe he doesn't like red haired boys who don't know when to be quiet?

The next morning Shanks is pacing among his poor crew that's gotten stuck listening to Shanks obsess about Beckman again. IS IT REALLY THE HAIR!?

It's not even a matter of Shanks's age (or obvious immaturity). I mean, Beckman got on board and stayed, didn't he? Beckman just enjoys watching Shanks try so hard to get his attention. Like Benn's attention isn't constantly on Shanks. He had to when his captain is always one step away from disaster.

He only left him with Mihawk because it was clear Dracule is not a real danger to Beckman's captain.

Except maybe insulting him to death. But Beckman is pretty sure Shanks can handle it. He's met Buggy. He's suspects Shanks LIKES it if anything.

It gets to the point where when they dock somewhere and see Mihawk waiting, or come back to the ship and spot his familiar silhouette, most of the crew goes off somewhere for another drink (sometimes the newer kids will stay to watch such an awesome fight, everyone else is like... Look, you'll have plenty of opportunities later. This is not a one off.)

Benn just takes a look around, nods to Mihawk (a silent signal for, "he's all yours, do with him as you please, if anything happens to him I will track you down and make sure your last few hours on this blue world are as painful as humanly possible") and heads off.

Oh, it's just the Hawk boy.

That's fine then.

Benn use to be a sailor on a trade ship between the North, East, West and Grand Line. He's seen it all.

They called him The Gun Slinger BEFORE he joined Shanks's crew and became a pirate.

So this young, broke ass kid from the streets of some near artic northern island trying to pass himself off as a Lower North rich type has a thing for his captain? Not really enough to keep Beckman up at night, no matter how good at swords he's supposed to be

Besides, he's pretty sure for the kid to keep tracking down Shanks, he must be bored out of his skull. He's not going to do anything to endanger their captain.

Not if Shanks is the only thing he can find to keep him entertained.

One day, Mihawk is going to be waiting on the dock when a bunch of Red Haired pirates are stumbling home, laughing and chattering amongst themselves (Shanks's crew always seems to be in a good mood). One of them will catch sight if Mihawk and walk by with a smile, patting him on the shoulder.

The captain's occupied. Seems likely he'll be 'occupied' for a good while, too.

Mihawk won't smile, but he will think "So you finally warmed him up to you, Akagami?" and snort lightly.

Poor Benn, though. Mihawk could never imagine being with someone so much younger than him. Shanks is only four years his junior and already it strains Mihawk to put up with his occasional moments of "youthful whimsy" (aka being an annoying, immature child)

"A young, cocky pirate with strangely colored bright hair"

Mihawk just putting that on his Not To Do List.

That lasted until Roronoa.

(Mihawk just looking at Zoro knowing this is bad news.)

Mihawk: *Takes list from Benn*

*Cross out, scribbles*

*Hands back to Benn*

Do Not Do:

- A young, cocky pirate with strangely colored bright hair a silly hat, who is overly dramatic and in any way, shape or form related to Gol D Rogers.

Ace: Hey what's up?

Mihawk: *Takes list from Benn*

Go ahead, Benn, laugh it up. Mihawk is aware he has a type. Young, pretty, and utterly insane.

After that night where Shanks was otherwise 'occupied', it's over six months before Mihawk sees his friend his rival again. He is, as expected, far too smug and proud looking.

Shanks: Oh, Miha, so sorry you came all this way, I'm-

Benn: Well, I'm off, captain.

Shanks: What!? But we, you, I... Benn, hessoeexyarentyouworriedforyourcaptain?

Benn: *patting Mihawk on the shoulder* Have fun with him. Don't forget to return him by noon tomorrow, we have a schedule. Oh, but if you can babysit him for at least four hours? That would be great.

Shanks: BABYSIT!?

Mihawk: I suppose I can be troubled to do so.

Shanks: TROUBLED!?

Benn: Thanks, Hawkeyes. I owe you.

Shanks: *Fake tears clinging to his lashes* You two are so mean!

No, don't feel bad for him. Shanks is just trying to guilt the two of them into bed at the same time, and they both know it.

Thanks no thanks, they're not into that. But Shanks can be pretty cute when he's trying so hard (Benn) and at least he's not as boring as everything else in this world (Mihawk) so they allow him to keep up the act

Shanks: *looking at Zoro's wanted poster over Mihawk's shoulder* But I feel like you'd gladly go to bed with him and his captain if he asked. That doesn't seem fair to me. You'd never go that far with me and Benn.

Mihawk: *Eyes Benn*

Mihawk: *DEAD. ONLY.*

Mihawk: I have my reasons.

They can and do agree on plenty of things, including reciprocally not being that attracted to each other.

Shanks: Sounds fake to me

Shanks: But guys!

Shanks: This isn't about you

He's gonna need you guys to drop the egos and focus on what HE wants. I.E., being in the middle of two sexy Northern men.

Honestly, so mean to poor Shanks!

86 notes · View notes

so-writing · 4 years ago

Text

Sugar, Honey, Ice and Tea - Matthew Tkachuk (24)

all parts here

feedback is always welcome, lol gimme that fb

What the hell were you doing?

No actually, what the fuck were you honestly doing?

Matthew Tkachuk, a man you’d spent the past few years despising, just had his hands and his lips all over you and you let it happen. You let it happen because you wanted it to happen and when it finally did, you liked it.

That was the easy part though. He was an attractive man and he wanted you. Who could resist that?

“You need to get out of here, Matt,” you smoothed your shirt in an attempt to make it look like someone hadn’t had their hands beneath it, “we cannot get caught doing this.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Will you call me when you’re done with work?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He left as quickly as he’d arrived and you stumbled back into your chair and placed your fingers back on your keyboard like nothing had happened.

You didn’t call him when you got back to your apartment.

You didn’t even make an attempt to speak to him for the next few days, despite the constant text messages and phone calls from not only Matt, but also his younger brother.

Matt was subtle with his messages, he hoped you were having a good day, hoped you slept well, wanted you to call him when you were feeling up to it.

Brady, however, was not subtle at all. He sent a bunch of text messages that you skimmed over and when he called you, you hit ignore and braced yourself for the voicemail you would be met with.

You felt bad about not getting back to either of them, but that wasn’t the actual issue you were attempting to work through.

What you were trying to wrap your head around was the insane guilt that you were dealing with, not because you didn’t get in contacts with the Tkachuks, but because you didn’t return Matt’s feelings.

You weren’t in love with him. You weren’t in love with Matthew Tkachuk and even though you shouldn’t have, you felt really fucking bad about it. He had given you his heart and you weren’t willing to accept it.

Matt was easy to like, especially lately because of his newfound feelings, he was kind and charming and funny and all the things you wanted in a partner but there was something holding you back.

The text messages continued from both men but there was a stark contrast between them.

From Matt:

Hey, I don’t know why you’re not getting back to me but I’m sorry for whatever I did.

I have your Starbucks order at my place if you want some coffee, all you have to do is come get it.

I guess you’re not coming to get it

I’m sorry

Please talk to me

From Brady:

You’re kidding me, right? You’re really going to fucking ghost him after he told you he loved you? REALLY?

You’re really doing this aren’t you? What the fuck

What the fuck????!!!

This sucks because I liked you but you’re obviously a waste of my brother’s fucking time and now I know he can do better. I hope he realizes it soon.

That last message from Brady stung harder than you expected and, as you wiped your eyes, you wondered how many more Tkachuks would make you cry.

You called him three times and hung up right away before you worked up the courage to let the phone finally ring.

“I don’t like you right now.”

“I know, Brady, I know and I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

As hard as you tried to keep it together, a sob escaped your throat and you began to cry again.

“Hey, don’t do that,” his voice softened, “don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry, I’m such a fucking mess, I just, I don’t know what to do. I don’t love him like he loves me and I’m so scared because of it.”

Brady was quiet for longer than you could handle, and his silence encouraged more tears to flow.

“You don’t have to love him back. He doesn’t expect you to do that.”

Brady had filled Matt in on his phone call with her and he was feeling more unnerved than he ever had. He didn’t realize telling her he loved her would send her into a tailspin. He never wanted to cause her any problems or make her feel bad about anything. He was just being honest.

A soft knock at his door pulled Matt out of his binge of ‘The Office’ and had him jumping to his feet and running to his door, hoping he would see her on the other side.

“I’m sorry.”

She looked about as bummed out as he felt, but he wasn’t going to let a moment with her slip away.

“Come inside?”

“Sure.”

She sat down at the end of the couch and a small smile made its way to her lips when she realized what was on the TV in front of her.

“I love this show.”

“I know. I’m only watching because you recommended it.”

“I don’t remember telling you about it.”

“I do. You down to watch with me for a little bit?”

“Sure.”

You had been snuggled into Matt’s chest for several hours as the two of you worked your way through the early seasons of ‘The Office.’ It was easy to lay your head against his chest and wrap your arms around him and forget everything else but that wasn’t love. That was comfort and warmth and definitely not love.

“I should probably go.”

He was mostly asleep but he heard you, “why?”

“I shouldn’t sleep here tonight.”

“We can sleep in my bed because you hate my couch so much.”

“I can’t, I’m sorry Matt.”

“Ok, I’ll walk you down.”

You didn’t make it down to your apartment. You didn’t make it out of Matt’s apartment. You didn’t make it off his couch before you fell asleep.

He fully expected her to give him shit about sleeping on the couch as soon as she woke up. It was the second time they’d spent the night together and both times were less than romantic. It was probably for the best though, because she was making it incredibly fucking obvious that she didn’t return the feelings he had for her.

“Oh my god, we really did this again?”

A smile graced her lips as she peeled herself off of him and stood up to stretch.

“Yeah, I guess we did.”

“You’ve gotta get a better couch, Tkachuk, especially if you’re going to spend your nights on it.”

“You’re the only person that has had the pleasure of sharing that shitty couch with me.”

“If that is the case, I’m glad for everyone that has had the luxury of sleeping in your bed.”

“Thank you for escorting me to the elevator, Matthew, I couldn’t have made it without you,” you teased.

“You haven’t called me Matthew for quite some time, I don’t miss it.”

“We’re not as formal with each other as we used to be.”

“I was never formal with you.”

“You’re right,” you smiled up at him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, “but I always was.”

The two of you separated and the elevator doors closed before he could say another word.

Love is an interesting thing.

If you didn’t love Matthew Tkachuk, why was it so fucking hard to leave him?

#Matthew Tkachuk #Matthew Tkachuk imagine #matt tkachuk #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

130 notes · View notes

acourtofsnakes · 4 years ago

Text

Haran - Rogue, Chapter 8 | The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: The Mandalorian tries to get back on with his normal routine without you. So he decided to go visit Peli on the quiet, almost deserted planet of Tatooine. Where he will meet no one of interest or danger. At all.

Warnings: Hmm, not many. Some light swearing and mentions of death briefly.

Word count: Around 7139

AN: I’m not sure if everything I wrote about Tatooine is strictly ‘correct’, so forgive me if not!

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @jackgrzs @sarahjkl82-blog @boomtownboy

Mando’a translation: Haran – Hell

The Mandalorian watched you walk away.

He watched your figure retreat further and further into the distance, each step taking you closer to Nevarro, and further away from him and the kid. He watched until he could see you no more, then sighed, murmuring to Grogu and returning to the cockpit to leave.

And it hurt.

He knew it would, he wasn’t stupid. He just hadn’t expected it to hurt so very much. Didn’t expect that it would feel like you’d wrenched his heart from beneath his armour and took it with him.

He hadn’t even hugged you. Touch like that was rare for Mandalorians, wasn’t considered… ‘normal.’

But when had your… friendship... ever been ‘normal’? You’d started off as hunter and prey, for Maker’s sake. He’d hunted you down and took you onto his ship with every intention of delivering you to the new Client and being on his merry way.

Only, you were different. You didn’t shy away from him. You didn’t cower or beg for your life. You were cocky, inappropriate and had a silver-tongue and knew how to use it. You got under his skin and drove him insane.

But… he’d laughed more times with you than he had with anyone that wasn’t the kid.

You made him feel… less alone. And he’d hoped he’d done the same for you

Then you’d saved his life.

And he’d realised just how much he had come to adore your presence and your company.

As cliché as it sounded, it was like having a little bit of sunlight in his ship.

Well, no. That might not be the right analogy. You weren’t just sunlight. You weren’t just a flame; you were a blaze.

You burned brighter than anyone he had ever met, determined not to be dragged down by your past. Your anger was a storm, ravaging everything it came near, with all the force of a tempest. He’d borne the brunt of it enough times in the few months he had been together.

But you had a light inside you, a thirst to see the good in the world, the beauty no matter how dark it may have appeared. He admired that about you. There was a word for it in Mando’a. Shereshoy; a lust for life.

The last argument you’d had… He knew from the moment you ran from the market, that you would lash out. He didn’t know how, but he’d seen the shift in your eyes, seen the way that fire had blazed – only to gutter out into consuming darkness.

It had flickered as you had yelled at each other, and when he saw it go black, saw darkness cloud over and suck you into the depths, he’d dived right in after you.

It had been instinct to run to you, catch you in his arms and let you both sink down together. Only he held you from being pulled too deep.

And you’d let him.

The moment you’d let go and curled into his body, was the moment he felt everything change.

It had broken a gate within him. A carefully and purposely crafted wall of adamant in his mind that held back the force of everything he shouldn’t feel.

It was why he’d done what he did the other night.

He’d been on the hunt, tracking the bounty. It was an easy one, so easy he didn’t even really need to think about it. Which of course, left his mind open to wandering.

And it kept coming back to you, over and over again.

What you were doing, if you were okay, if the ship was too hot for you and if he’d set the locks correctly.

He always had the same thoughts whenever he left the kid, but with you there, they had eased. He’d trusted you from that first night you sung Grogu your mother’s lullaby.

So that didn’t plague him.

No, it was your hair that was the main subject tonight. That damn hair that he couldn’t take his eyes off of since the moment you’d let it down a couple of days ago.

The light had caught it just right, turning it to gold and when you ran your hands through it…

He’d been struck with a craving so intense; it took his breath away.

He yearned to move away your hands, replace them with his own.

To shuck off his gloves and truly feel the silky texture of it, to feel anything but the worn leather interior of the material.

He couldn’t have been more relieved when you’d landed on the desert planet. He had though that the Maker had taken pity on him, saving him before he could do something really stupid.

The distraction had remained with him throughout his hunt, sneaking up on him whenever he should be at least trying to concentrate.

By the time he’d caught the bounty and had begun to lug him back to the Crest, his body had begun to itch. Less of a persistent irritation and more of a yearning. At first, he’d thought it was from the heat, but when he’d climbed the ramp to the Crest, he could smell the lingering aroma of the soap you’d used in your shower.

He’d quickly dispatched of the bounty in the carbonite chamber, eager to escape to the small storage compartment he had now taken up residence in.

He hadn’t bothered to take back his sleeping quarters, something in him wanting to give you that small bit of comfort. Besides, he’d slept in worse places.

He’d retreated there after a brief conversation with yourself, trying to clear his mind as he lay on the collection of blankets and sacks that he’d made up for his bed and waited for his body to relax and sleep to claim him. Eventually, it had.

It wasn’t Grogu’s crying that awoke him that night, as it normally would.

No, it was that damn smell.

It had filtered through his helmet, invading his sleep and gently tugged him awake.

He’d sat up and without a thought, followed that scent like a hound.

It had led him to the kitchen and then…

Then he’d seen you.

In that flimsy drape of fabric that could hardly call itself a dress.

There was just… so much of your skin on show. So much of your smooth skin on display, lined with scars here and there but it didn’t matter to him. It told your story, your survival

The Mandalorian’s own body had tightened, heat blazing across his skin and making his armour uncomfortable. He rarely acknowledged the heaviness of it, but standing there, looking at you, had truly made him feel the crushing weight.

And when you’d turned, the water rolling down your neck…

The image of removing his helmet and catching that bead of water on his tongue, of trailing it up your neck and finally tasting your skin that he knew would be as sweet as your scent.. it nearly undid him.

In fact, it did. It broke a restraint in him and set a haze in his mind that cleared only when the beeping of the autopilot had demanded his attention.

He’d sat up in the cockpit for hours afterward, staring at his now gloved hands.

He had touched you. He had removed his gloves in the presence of someone else, trusting in you not to turn around. He’d felt you.

Felt that gorgeous, silky hair on his fingers.

Felt the bumps of your spine beneath your skin.

The noises you’d made, the sighs and the moans, they were branded into his memory, followed him when he finally went back to bed.

They’d echoed in his ears, playing over and over until his trousers had become even more painfully tight and he was forced to fix the problem.

The next day, the pleasure and breathless thrill of what had occurred went stale. It turned into shame, disgust at himself for treating you like that, thinking of you like that in the late hours.

The snide voice in his head had whispered that it was time, time to invoke what he already planned when he was out on his hunt.

And like a cowardly fool, he gave in.

The betrayal and hurt in your eyes when he’d told you had been like a punch to his heart.

He’d been battered in fights and that hurt less.

Hurt less than this pain as he re-joined the atmosphere above Nevarro and moved the ship away.

Was he making a mistake? Should he have kept you with him? OR stayed with you, even just for a little while longer? But what if someone had caught up to you or spotted you and gave you up. There would be no telling who would-

Ping!

A metallic note on the back of his helmet snapped him from his frantic thoughts, echoing in the confines of his helmet. It had come from Grogu’s direction.

He turned around, looking at what it was… and saw Grogu’s ball on the floor.

“Hey, kid, what are you doing?”

An angry gurgle emanated from the little green creature, waving his arms in the air and his face full of disdain.

Mando sighed, “Look, I know you’ll miss her, but we have to do this, okay?”

Grogu only waved his hands again, and suddenly the ball was flying through the air, bouncing off of his visor before rolling along the cockpit again.

“Hey!! Now you decide to use your powers? That’s enough. This has to happen.” He pointed a finger at Grogu.

Which just made the kid burst into tears and scream.

Loudly.

Mando swore under his breath, pulling him out of his crib and plonking him down on his lap. He turned back to the front of the ship, one hand holding the back of the kid’s head, the other piloting the ship, “Hey, hey… look, I’m sorry but… she had to leave. It wasn’t safe for her to stay with us..”

Grogu just wailed more, his little fists thumping into Mando’s belly. He was not happy with his father, and seemed intent on letting him know that.

He sighed, letting Grogu pummel him. After all, his little hands barely made an impact, and it just reminded him painfully of that night in the cargo hold, where you fought him and broke down. He switched the ship to autopilot, tilting his head down to give Grogu his full attention. “Grogu.”

More wailing, the little tyke was determined not to pay attention.

“Cmon, Grogu. Look at me.”

Grogu’s head shook rapidly from side to side, his little body shaking with sobs.

“Not even for cookies?”

A pause. A questionable gurgle replacing the wailing.

Mando couldn’t help the smile on his face behind the helmet, “Ah, see, I knew that would get your attention. If you look at me, I’ll let you have the pack.” It was bad parenting, not to mention bribery and he knew that. But anything to stop Grogu being upset – and to convince himself he’d done the right thing. “Just look at me, okay? And listen..”

Grogu lifted his head up, looking up at his father with glossy, tear filled eyes.

Mando felt his heart break a little, and he gently wiped the tears from Grogu’s cheek with the back of his little finger, “I know you’re mad at me, and I completely understand why. But… there are so many people after her. After us as well.”

Grogu listened intently, little snuffly breaths rising from him now and then as a result of the previous tears.

The Mandalorian reached across to a little box beside him, pulling out a package of the blue space cookies. He unwrapped them as he spoke, “The people that are after us all might start to work together. They might think that... if they can get to one of us, they can get all of us.” He pulled out a cookie, then held it out to the kid. “Everyone knows that I threw away the tracking fob. And that will draw more attention.”

Grogu took the cookie, biting it and his head tilted as he let his father speak, munching away.

Mando leaned back in his seat, head still tilted down to watch, “If they find us… they find her. Any of the bounties I catch could turn, like that guy before with the tail. So.. if she goes to Nevarro… She can blend in and hide. Cara and Greef will monitor anyone coming in. They’ll keep her safe and steer away any authorities or hunters. She’ll be safer there than she will with us… and if we need to, I can draw away any hunters who think we’re all still together.”

Grogu’s ears sagged a little, a softer coo rising from him that flung a few tiny blue crumbs onto his fathers lap.

Mando huffed a slight laugh, shaking his head a little, “Messy.” He brushed a few more crumbs from Grogu’s mouth, “Do you understand though? Why I had to do it?”

The kid nodded, though he still looked sad.

The Mandalorian held him closer, “I know, kid. I wish we didn’t have to do it either.”

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Just travelling to Tatooine. His ship needed repairing, and the Mandalorian hadn’t met with Peli for a long while.

And… maybe something in him was craving the comfort of… a friend?

Besides, the kid loved her too and he wanted to cheer him up.

He would see if the sparse planet had any extra work for him. He doubted it, the cantinas were rarely ever half full, but it didn’t hurt to try. He needed something to keep his mind occupied and away from thinking of a particular cocky, snarky, gorgeous companion.

When he was close, he set the ship to autopilot, the display on the panel and his internal body clock telling him it was time to sleep.

He scooped up Grogu, who had been playing with his ball, “C’mon, kid. Time for bed. You can come with me tonight.”

The Mandalorian made his way to the little area that had become his bedroom. He looked down at the pile of blankets on the floor, pausing.

Maybe he should return to his bed. The floor was wreaking havoc on his already aching back, and it was cold on the floor.

He sighed, taking way too long to think about it, before returning back up to his sleeping compartment, pressing the pad on the wall to open it.

Fuck.

The entire compartment smelt like you. It hit him as soon as the door slid open, wafting under his helmet and filling his head with your scent. He swallowed back a soft groan, made his body move across the room. He didn’t need this. He needed sleep. He needed to focus.

Mando walked across the room and set Grogu laying down closest to the wall, before sliding in and manoeuvring his clunky body and armour into the bed too.

It was stronger here, the smell of your perfume. If he closed his eyes, maybe he could imagine you were there with him. Tucked up against him, sleeping deeply and evenly.

He sighed, pulling the blankets over Grogu’s body and then his own, images swirling through his mind, the same ones that taunted him every night when he tried to sleep. He tried not to feel them, the thoughts that relentlessly filled his mind. It had made him restless, made his inhibitions low – hence why he’d found you in the kitchen, unable to hold back on the things he wanted to do and say.

Mando said quietly after a while, rubbing Grogu’s ears, “You really liked her, huh?”

Grogu cooed, nodding his head a little before tilting it into his father’s touch.

Mando sighed softly, resting his head on the pillow again and closing his eyes, “Me too, kid… Me too.” He allowed himself to inhale deeply, let that scent envelope him and lull him into sleep.

“Oh, thank the Force!! You’re still alive! Come here you little womp rat!”

Peli’s excited exclamation was broken only by Grogu’s delighted squeal as he tottered over to her, arms outstretched and making grabby hands.

Mando smiled behind his helmet. He knew coming here was the right thing to do. Grogu adored Peli, and hopefully this would cheer him up somewhat. He looked at Peli, the raised eyebrow evident in his voice as he leant against the side of his ship, “Did you expect us not to be?”

Peli scooped Grogu up, holding him close after inspecting his body for injuries or hurts. “Are you blind, boy? Everyone is out looking for you. They know what you did, even out here. The droids picked up chatter from the town. Word is, they increased the bounty on your head and doubled the girls.”

Mando stood up straight quickly, “They’ve doubled her bounty?! That’s… That’s ridiculous. It was already the highest I’ve seen.”

Peli narrowed her eyes, watching his reaction. “So, it’s true then. You kept another bounty. I didn’t know Mandalorian’s liked to collect things so much.” Her voice was a little disapproving, but she motioned for Mando to follow her. “You shouldn’t be taking such stupid risks, Mando. You’ve got a child to look after. Harbouring criminals isn’t the way to do that.”

The words left his mouth like an instinct, “She’s not a criminal.” He followed her though, his boots scuffing up dust on the floor.

Peli looked over her shoulder at him, her own eyebrows raised this time, “Oh? She’s not? So that bounty fell on her accidentally did it? Look, if we heard of her all the way out here, she must have truly done something b-“

“She is not a criminal, Peli.” He tried to rein in the steel in his voice. Peli was just looking out for Grogu, and for him. But something about her tone had struck a nerve, reminded him of the own conclusions he had jumped to, and how badly it had hurt you.

Peli didn’t even bother to turn around as she walked into the hangar, “And how do you know that? She tell you what she’s being hunted for?” She shifted Grogu to her other arm and pointed at the droids that rolled past her on their way to the ship, “Careful with those parts.”

Mando swallowed, hesitating as he looked back at the droids and then back toward Peli, following her to her desk area. “No. She didn’t. But I just know.” He sunk into a chair, picking up something from the desk and fiddling with it.

Peli watched the movement, assessing him and she just hummed as she sat down herself, Grogu on her lap. “Look. What you do, who you meet and decide to put in your band of rogues is none of my concern. Hell, we know nothing about each other. But you have to remember, this child is still wanted by Moff Gideon. You’re still wanted by both sides. You need to be careful.” Her voice was firm, but there was a note of softness there that you had to look to find, but it was there all the same. “I assume she’s in that ship of yours hiding? You can bring her out. I won’t bite her.”

Mando swallowed, his words becoming a little difficult and he had to pause again, “No. She’s not there. I… we parted ways.”

Peli frowned, looking down at Grogu who had turned his head to her, cooing. His ears had flopped a little again, but he didn’t contest the fact. She made a thoughtful noise again, “Parted ways?”

Mando sighed silently, wanting to take the subject away from you, the pain in his chest, “How has business been?”

She blinked, then burst out laughing, “Business? Are you actually pulling a joke on me, Mandalorian? Do you see any business here? Tatootine is just as quiet as it was the last time you were here. Why? Looking for a job?”

Mando shrugged, setting down the object he’d been playing with, “It wouldn’t hurt to get some extra credits.”

Peli tilted her head thoughtfully, “Well, I can’t promise anything. But there have been a few new stragglers coming through the town lately. Some hunters, smugglers and the like. One of them might have something you can do. I wouldn’t rely on it though.”

He nodded, grateful for the chance to go and do something. Even if it was just walking into town, being told no, and heading back again. “Great. I’ll check it out in a bit.”

She wasn’t listening. She’d already diverted all of her attention back to Grogu, cooing at him and pulling faces.

Tatooine was just as dry, dusty and barren as it was the last time the Mandalorian had set foot here. Its inhabitants were scattered throughout the towns, which were dotted few and far between, though there were a handful more inhabitants here in Mos Eisley. It ws one of the larger spaceports, so had a little more traffic.

It was still almost deserted though.

You didn’t often see people or creatures in the streets, as the sun beating down was too much sometimes even for those that called the desert planet home. They also seemed to know when sandstorms were coming – which were often. Maybe there was another on its way. There was a wild wind brewing, stirring the sand.

There weren’t many out today, maybe driven inside by the relentless sun, though a cluster had gathered here, in Chalmun’s Spaceport Cantina.

It was a roughly hewn building on the outside, the same colour as the dusty ground. It was small, but its thick walls provided a natural shade, cool and dim out of the sun.

Mando ducked under the upper threshold as he stepped inside, ignoring the glances and muttering that occurred whenever he walked into a place. Even if he hadn’t been clad in shiny – albeit rather dusty – beskar, he still would have garnered the attention, simply for being a Mandalorian.

He was used it to by now, but it did still make him feel uncomfortable sometimes.

He surveyed the room, then walked to the bar, which provided the main source of light in the centre of the room. The atmosphere seemed…calm, though that could change at the drop of a hat and the bar could erupt into one of it’s famous brawls.

The last time he’d set foot in this particular cantina, he’d helped a young bounty hunter… who’d turned traitor.

He would try to avoid that this time. He only wanted a job. No help.

The Mandalorian tapped the bar to gain the attention of the barman, “Hey. Anyone come through here with bounty pucks?”

The barman paid him no attention, continuing to serve the customer, a pilot by the looks of his jumpsuit.

Mando frowned behind his helmet, “No?” He was hot, a little agitated and he missed you. So his temper wasn’t the greatest.

The barman snapped, “No. Come back tomorrow, maybe there’ll be a line of people waiting to fall at your shiny feet.” He looked at Mando in disgust then walked to the other end of the bar to serve.

Mando sighed, counting to ten his mind. He needed a job. He would just have to keep trying.

And so, he did. Over the next three days, he went back again and again. And every day, he would come home with nothing.

Each night, Peli would tell him over dinner that it was because of the approaching storm. That there would be more people once it had cleared.

The third night, the storm finally rolled in.

Mando was already awake, the lack of distraction meaning his thoughts were spiralling again, so he was conscious when the howling wind roared to life, bringing with it waves and waves of sand.

He spent the night watching the wind move like it was an animal, unleashed from its cage to be free. It didn’t sound angry. It sounded mournful. Like it was tearing through the town looking for something, for someone.

Mando couldn’t help but relate.

The storm stayed for another four days. Endless howling of the wind, the cold chill it brought of a night, so different to the scorching wind of the days.

Luckily, it gave the Mandalorian something to do. He secured his ship when the wind had died down a little, making sure there were no gaping holes or anything that could get damaged should the wind change direction.

As much as he didn’t like droids, he had to admit that Peli’s did a pretty good job.

After that, she had him clearing out any of her gear and belongings that were outside.

Which meant hauling in all the nearby boxes and making sure the droids didn’t roll out and get buffeted and dragged away by the wind.

When that was done, he was to spend his time clearing away the dust and sand that blew in through the openings.

Peli told him she couldn’t work in a messy environment, but the scattered parts, oily rags and various paraphernalia dotted around would have him beg to differ.

Still, it gave him a way to keep his mind busy.

However, the jobs and handy work he did for her didn’t stop him from watching the storm every night, or from checking Peli’s rusty but still operational tablet for updates on the atmospheric pressure.

…

The morning of the fifth day dawned bright and scalding.

The storm was gone, reduced to a few gusts of heavy wind here and there, but nothing like the raging force of the past four days.

The heat was even more oppressive than usual, like the wind had sucked any minuscule ounce of coolness from the air and left it feeling like fire in the lungs.

Peli told him he was stupid, that the town would be deserted. She was even more annoyed when he informed her that he was taking Grogu. He had been penned inside for four days and was starting to act as stir crazy as Mando felt.

Peli yelled at him, even threatened to take apart his ship but he respectfully ignored her and made the trek anyway. Even if every step in the blazing heat made it feel like his armour was melting to his body. He’d popped Grogu into his crib, to spare him from the scorching air.

Why did he decided to come to another desert planet?

Maybe he would go somewhere cold next.

Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. Somewhere where he could take a breath of chilled, icy air. Somewhere he could show Grogu the snow..

~“Snow and ice are stunning. They’re powerful and strong. I’ve only ever been in a proper snowfall once, and I fell in love. The way the flakes float down and.. dance even if there’s the faintest breeze. And then when they land on your skin or your eyelashes like little cold kisses… The sound it makes under your boots when you walk on a fresh fall. And it softens everything, makes it easier on your eyes to see across the landscape… it’s quiet, muffled…”~

Mando’s heart wrenched as he remembered your words, the way your face lit up and your eyes danced as you described the feeling of snow on your skin. He swallowed, shaking his head free of the memory and walking into the cantina, Grogu’s crib floating along with him.

The barman sneered at him, “What, no questions today?”

Mando just shook his head, ordering a bowl of cold broth for the kid and then he retreated to a table in the corner, sinking into his seat.

Maker, he was tired. So, so tired. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a proper sleep and it was beginning to catch up with him now.

The tiredness, mixed with the physical work of the past few days was getting to him. His back ached and his shoulders were constantly tense with the weight of his armour. He wasn’t a young man anymore, things had started to niggle and irritate more than usual.

The quiet ambiance of the cantina and the soft slurps of Grogu enjoying his broth were beginning to lull the Mandalorian into sleep. His body relaxed into the hard bench seat, his eyes began to close behind the helmet, no matter how hard he fought it.

Maybe he could just close his eyes for a moment… just to rest..

It wasn’t until Grogu’s sharp warning cry echoed through the fog in his brain, that he realised he’d actually fallen asleep. His head shot up from where it had rested on his chest, adrenaline shooting through his body so fast it made him dizzy. His hand had flown to the blaster on his hip by instinct, and he looked around rapidly for the cause of Grogu’s cry.

And then he found it.

Sitting opposite him and the kid, was a male figure, draped in an expensive looking black cloak that was embroidered with golden thread. The hilt of an ancient blade protruded above broad shoulders, sheathed down the figure’s spine. The cloak hid anything on the figures body, but Mando knew it was lined with weapons.

The male figure had an elbow on the table, a long arm propped up with his hand disappearing into the darkness of his hood where he presumably had his chin resting.

He knew that this man was a hunter.

A predator.

He could sense the coiled energy slumbering within the relaxed stance, just knew that the heavy material of his cloak hid an arsenal of weapons.

That and the fact he could see the faint outline of a knife hidden within the man’s sleeve.

The Mandalorian straightened, alertness flooding every single sense, along with the anger at his own sheer stupidity for falling asleep. He reached out, pulling Grogu off of the table and back into his crib in one fluid movement, shielding it between his body and the wall behind him.

He might have chosen a corner table, might be backed into that corner, but at least no one could get the jump on him from behind.

Mando had already marked the exists and potential attack points the first time he’d come here, so he didn’t need to worry about those.

He was in the process of trying to spot any tells on his new acquaintance, when the figure laughed.

A laugh like silk, flowing over the skin. A laugh that was designed to draw you in, to caress you and seduce you.

The voice was the same. Low, with a rich baritone like velvet that slid over the Mandalorian’s bones, “Relax. You don’t need to go on the offence, Mandalorian. Though I know that might be hard for you.” He was grinning under that hood, and Mando could almost imagine a set of fangs to match the voice, itching to sink into flesh.

“Don’t I?” The Mandalorian’s voice was hard, cold. He needed to get out of here… but something was making him curious about who this shadowy figure was, something niggling at the back of his mind like he knew.

The figure shrugged, an easy gesture, “Nope. Trust me, if I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have woken up from your little nap there. I could have killed you and that Peli woman during the storm and hung your skins out as wind gauges.”

He knew who Peli was? Who was he?

The Mandalorian said nothing. He supposed someone from the town could have spotted him staying at Peli’s. He’d have to leave. He didn’t want her getting hurt because of him.

The man laughed again, set Mando’s teeth on edge, “Honestly, Mando. Are you always wound this tight? No wonder you don’t sleep.” He dropped his hand, resting both forearms on the table and lacing his fingers together. They were clad in fine leather gloves, perfectly snug to his hands. “I won’t kill your little friend either, I promise. I’m here on business.” He paused, “Acceptable business, if you could call it that. Not my usual or favoured type of business, mind you.”

Mando kept his hand on his blaster, kept his other arm held slightly out in case Grogu’s crib was on display. It was only then that he’d noticed the entire cantina had emptied out. It was just the three of them. How long was he asleep?

“What business would that be? I don’t exactly fall into the ‘acceptable business’ category myself.” He couldn’t keep the snideness out of his tone.

The figure leaned into his hands, no ounce of light creeping past the hood. There was nothing there, just heavy darkness shrouding his face. “I need you to find someone for me. I’ve been tasked by someone supposedly important to bring them in, and I heard you’re almost as good as me.”

Mando had a feeling he knew where this was going. “And who am I helping you bring in? I don’t have sidekicks.”

The figure snorted, like Mando’s words amused him, “You think I’d be your sidekick? Please. You’ve been living with your head in that bucket too long. You obviously don’t know who I am.” He might have shaken his head beneath the heavy cloak, “I digress. Here is the person I want you to help me find.” He slid a puck onto the table, “I think you’ll be able to help. I’d be happy to split the reward in half with you. It would be enough for you to take your little one to one of those sanctuary planets.”

He didn’t want to press that puck. He didn’t want to reveal what he already knew. “Sorry. I just remembered. I’m busy.” He made to rise from his chair.

The figure didn’t even move a finger, and suddenly an iron grip wrapped itself around the Mandalorian’s throat. He choked, his hand slipping from his blaster to his neck, trying to prise away whatever was suffocating him, but it wasn’t there. Nothing was touching him.

The man watched him, “Sit down.”

The pressure became tighter, dragged down Mando’s body and forced his legs to relax and for his body to dump back onto the bench. “Now. Activate the puck.”

Mando shook his head, gasping for breath beneath the helmet, his lungs already fit to burst and his eyes tearing up. He had to protect you and the kid.

This man, if he was one, snarled softly, “Unless you want me to crush your windpipe and slit your baby in half, open the damn puck.”

Mando growled, clawing across the table and slamming his fingers onto the puck.

At once, the pressure immediately vanished. The man still sounded calm, casual, “That’s a good boy.”

The sudden rush of air was surprisingly not what had Mando gasping. It was your face, lit up in holo with the now absurdly high bounty flashing above it.

He’d known it’d be you, but it was still like a blow to his heart. The hazy blue mirage of your face, projected into the air stared at him, cutting right through him.

Mando shook his head again, his voice hoarse, “I don’t know where she is. I lost her. I don’t have the rights to go after again.”

The shadowy man leaned forward closer, flicking the puck “I knew you’d say that. I also knew that roughly a week ago, you dropped her off in Nevarro. I know that she’s currently staying under the protection of Marshal Cara Dune and Greef Carga.” He pressed the button to deactivate the puck.

Ice spread through Mando’s belly. How did this freak know where you were? How did he know where you were staying? Had he been following you?

His heart started to increase rapidly in his chest, his brain scrambling for a way out of this conversation. If it were anyone else, he would have ripped them apart and left by now.

But some primal instinct told him if he tried, he wouldn’t be the one walking away.

The man pulled the puck toward him, slipping it deep within his cloak, “You catch on fast. You’re right. You wouldn’t be walking away. There wouldn’t even be enough of you left to paint the walls of this disgusting building. Not even with your precious baby.”

What the fuck? He just…

A silky chuckle emanated from the hooded abyss, “Yes, yes. Don’t dwell on it, Mandalorian. There are bigger things to worry about.” He sat up straighter. “Now, I’m assuming you don’t remember what I am. So, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. I have been employed by someone who is far too arrogant and overestimates both their intelligence and their influence.” He paused, “No… employed is the wrong word. That would imply that they are my boss, and that is simply beyond ridiculous.” He tapped the table, “Anyway, as I was saying. I have been paid by someone to find your little girlfriend. And I will not stop until I find her. There are no ifs, buts or maybes. I will find the girl. And it’ll be sooner rather than later.”

Mando couldn’t breathe. There was a roaring in his ears.

The man continued on, “My client has asked me to bring her back to them. And I am nothing if not a gentleman of my word, so I have promised that she will be taken to them. On one condition.” He reached behind him, unsheathing his sword and resting it on the table in front of him with a movement so smooth it could have been choreographed. “I will have her returned to me after they are done with her. For she belongs to me, truly. And I will do to her whatever I see fit.”

A deadly fury rose within Mando like a tidal wave at the disgusting possessiveness in this mans words, but it was diminished when he saw the blade.

As long as his arm, a metal so black it sucked the very light from the room. There patterns within the surface, liked it was folded back onto itself again and again, until it was virtually indestructible. The centre of the blade and its hilt were etched in gold with symbols that Mando didn’t know.

But he recognised them.

With a sudden clarity, it came rushing back to him.

As a child, he was told bedtime stories, of a terrifying phantom of death. He rode the night sky, which answered to him. He slipped through the shadows and into people’s minds. He could kill a man from the inside out without touching him, reduce him to a screaming pit of fear, so tortured that he would tear out his own eyes.

He left behind no trace. He killed without mercy, without remorse for he had no soul.

There were rumours that beneath his hood, lay the head of a monster, so vile and cruel that the deepest pits of the galaxy spat him back out because they were too good for someone like him.

There was even talk of him in Mandalorian culture. Warnings.

This being was the one thing that a Mandalorian should never engage in. For he would make even the most skilled hunter or assassin cower. He had slaughtered in the Mandalorian wars, killed thousands on either side and then returned later to suck the souls out of the dead.

There were multiple names for him in Mando’a, the two most prominent being Werda which meant shadows, or more commonly, Haran. Translated, it meant hell, or cosmic annihilation, as he was said to be older than time. Older than the galaxy. He was death.

Haran chuckled softly, “Ah, I thought that might stir up some memories. I admit, I was surprised when I learned that the Mandalorian’s knew who I was, and even warned you about me. As if they believed that would save you. I thought you were all… what’s the phrase? Ori'buyce, kih'kovid. All helmet, no head."

He might throw up. Mando might throw up right here. He couldn’t wrap his head around what was happening. A fucking myth, a legend told to Mandalorians and people across the galaxies, was sitting opposite him.

He was real.

He could speak Mando’a better than some of his fellow Mandalorians.

He wanted you.

Haran was caressing a gloved finger up and down the edge of his blade, “I am going to get her, Mandalorian. She will be mine. She has belonged to me since the moment she was born, our fates entwined like threads of time. I will have her back by my side, and I will teach her everything that she is. I will help expand her past the limits of what she can be. She will be unstoppable. Indestructible.” There was a hunger in his voice, a hunger that struck genuine fear into Mando’s heart.

Mando croaked, the only thing he could manage, “What are you talking about?”

Haran tiled his head again, his movements stilling, “She never told you?” That irresistible voice actually sounded surprised, then he chuckled, “Oh, that’s interesting. She’s obviously tried to forget who she truly is. No matter, I’ll show her soon enough.” He appeared to be thinking about something, then his cloaked head tilted up and Mando knew he was watching him.

If he even had eyes under there.

“You can go and run off to her now. But you won’t be able to save her.” Such simple words, spoken with such a casual knowledge, a man used to being right.

The Mandalorian didn’t even think. He lurched from his seat, numbly pressing the button on his vambrace that had Grogu’s crib following him.

He had to get back to Peli. He had to get back to the Crest. He needed to find you, needed to take you somewhere far away, somewhere where you’d be safe from this monster.

“Wait.”

The man caught Mando’s arm as he made to go past him, gripping it with an iron strength that seemed to reverberate throughout his bones, root him to the spot. He couldn’t move.

“I tell you what. I’m a generous man, so I’m going to give you a head start. I’ll be here for the next seven days. After that, I’ll be making my way to Nevarro. And I will lay waste to anyone that tries to stand in my way. ”

Mando couldn’t speak, his tongue had frozen to the roof of his mouth with that same phantom grip. He could only make a choked noise, a growl that sounded as threatening as he could.

The man laughed again beneath that fucking hood, letting go of the invisible grip and sheathing his blade, “Better hurry… Lori.”

Previous chapter| Next Chapter

#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin & grogu #rogue #din djarin #the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

196 notes · View notes

sachigram · 3 years ago

Text

“With Teeth” Chapter 5

((click here to read on ao3!!))

Izaya is frowning down at his computer, his hands hovering above the keys of his keyboard, not moving. Next to him, Namie is typing away, a bemused little smirk on her face. She's enjoying this, clearly, and she's itching to say something biting.

“You're handling this better than I thought you would,” she says, her tone forcibly bored. Izaya blinks at her, lifting his hand to motion for her to continue. “Your little monster friend has a girlfriend now. He'll have less time for you, right? I assumed you'd be setting fires across the city by now.”

“You know what they say about assuming,” Izaya says breezily. “If anything, she's distracting him enough to leave me be.”

The chatroom is full of people chattering away about Shizuo and Vorona, who are spending a lot of time together, holding hands, exchanging glances, sharing beverages. It's sickening. Izaya feels vaguely nauseous just reading about it, but he thinks that's probably due to his insane schedule at the moment, and his lack of sleep. He keeps meaning to take a healing potion, but he forgets every time.

“Distracting. Right.” Namie types another response, fanning the flames of all the rumors circulating about Ikebukuro's hottest couple. Her smirk drops, and Izaya can't resist the temptation to dip into her mind, just a little, to see why she isn't enjoying this as much as she thought she would.

She's thinking of Seiji, of course, but also of Mika, and of Celty's head, and all the times she's been overlooked in favor of someone else. She thinks Shizuo dating Vorona is distasteful, because she's set on the idea that Shizuo must be fucking Izaya, and that's why he comes by so often. Izaya withholds a snort at that, and he graciously doesn't comment on the fact that Namie could probably have anyone she wanted, if she wasn't so obsessed with her own brother.

“Who cares, anyway?” Namie asks, closing her laptop. “The two of them together probably have conversations as interesting as watching paint dry. It's not worth even talking about anymore.”

“I couldn't agree more,” Izaya says, pushing away from his desk. He tilts his head at her. “Let's order out for dinner. My treat.”

“In that case, I'm craving something expensive.”

“Of course you are.”

***

Izaya is watching the sunset from a small window when he realizes he must have fallen asleep. He isn't at home anymore, and this is beginning to feel like the kind of dream he's been dreading to have lately, one where he knows Shizuo will show up at some point.

“Who are you?” A child's voice asks from behind him. Izaya turns, looking down at Shizuo, who is in a hospital bed, his arms wrapped, a brace around his neck. He's frowning up at Izaya, who sighs loudly before plopping into the vacant chair next to the bed.

“Oh, why does it even matter? You won't call me by my name anyway.” Izaya pulls his knees up to his chest and studies Shizuo closely. “You're here alone?”

“My family just left.” Shizuo looks up at the ceiling, seeming to decide that Izaya isn't a threat to him. “They used to stay with me a lot, but this happens all the time now, so they can't stick around as much.”

“I see.”

“I'll only be here one night anyway.”

“So who was it this time? Was it another fight?” Izaya asks.

“It's not like I wanted to fight.” Shizuo's eyebrow twitches. “I threw a swingset.”

“A swingset?”

“Yeah, but apparently it was bolted into the ground or something. Really fucked me up.”

Izaya can't help it. He laughs hard, curling into himself as he does so.

“Hey, fuck you, it isn't funny!” Shizuo snaps, but he seems to be trying not to laugh himself. “Well, maybe it was a little. The look on their faces was pretty funny.”

“Did you at least manage to hit them?” Izaya asks, still giggling at the mental image.

“No. Turns out all the time I spent lifting it gave them some time to escape.”

Izaya laughs harder. When was the last time he found something this genuinely funny? Lately all he does is work until he passes out, and he deserves it, he knows. Still, as he feels tears stinging the corner of his eyes, he thinks he feels good now, here with this kid version of Ikebukuro's monster. There doesn't seem to be anything else to do but talk to him, and their dreams keep connecting them no matter what Izaya does. He's tired of fighting it.

Shizuo is gazing at him with poorly concealed awe and wonder.

Pretty.

Izaya snorts at Shizuo's thought. What's so pretty about this scene right now? The sunset outside? The various machines hooked to Shizuo, beeping idly in the background? Shizuo keeps looking at him, and Izaya realizes, feels his face grow hot.

“Who are you?” Shizuo asks again.

“Your worst enemy.”

“Really? You don't seem all that bad.” Shizuo shifts a bit, winces. “You're not scared of me, are you?”

“Not now, not ever.”

Shizuo nods, and his lip wobbles. “People tell me all the time they aren't scared of me, but I know they are, deep down. How could they not be? They'd have to be crazy. But...” Shizuo chokes up, laughs a little. “I can tell you mean it. And if that makes you crazy, I think that's okay, because it feels good to not be feared, for once.”

Izaya lowers his legs, leaning closer to the bed. He idly touches the flimsy fabric of the blanket draped over Shizuo, who is watching him curiously. Izaya looks away.

“Sometimes you're so pathetically simple it makes me want to vomit. Sometimes it feels like a chore, hating you. Did you know that?” Izaya asks softly, and there's a long pause after his words, no sounds aside from their breathing. Even the machines have somehow gone quiet.

“So then why do you?” Shizuo asks at last.

“Isn't it funny that it's been so long of us hating each other that I forgot what caused it in the first place? I think you did, too.” Izaya crosses his arms over the bed, puts his head down. “People like us will always be at each other's throats. It's just the way it is.”

“You sound like a grownup,” Shizuo says, glaring now. “They always say that, when they don't know the answer to something. 'It's just the way it is.' If you don't know, then why does it matter in the first place?”

“Believe it or not, I am a grownup. I'm only a kid right now because you're one, too. We're always the same age in these dreams, even if only one of us remembers the future at a time.” Izaya lifts his head enough to grin at Shizuo, who blushes and immediately turns away. He seems to be trying to gather the courage to say something, but there's suddenly a knock at the door, and Izaya turns towards it. “Expecting someone else?”

“Huh?”

“There's knocking.”

“I don't hear anything.”

Izaya stands. “Oh. This may be in real life. I think I'm waking up.”

“Waking up? Does that mean leaving?” Shizuo's eyes look panicked. “When will you be back?”

“I never know. Why do you keep wanting to see me so badly? You're the one pulling me back here, you have to be.” The room starts to grow fuzzy as the dreamscape begins to fall apart around them.

“You're not scared of me. You laughed at me instead of running— Fuck!” Shizuo seems to be trying to get up to grab Izaya, but he can't with his arms bandaged. “Tell me your name so I can find you again!”

“You'll just call me a flea anyway, won't you? So it doesn't matter.”

***

Izaya opens his eyes to discover he passed out at his desk at some point. He sits up and frowns at the container of pasta next to him. He remembers ordering dinner for himself and Namie, and then...

“Ugh. Of course she just left,” Izaya mutters to himself. Namie is an opportunist if nothing else. She isn't the type to stick around and see what happens next, unlike Izaya. Another knock sounds at the door. “Who is it?” Izaya calls, feeling sluggish. He checks his phone to find he's been asleep for about two hours.

“Me!” Shinra's voice replies, muffled from the door. “Let me in, would you? I've been knocking forever!”

Grumbling, Izaya makes his way across the room, opening it for Shinra, who waltzes inside like he owns the place.

“Hi! I'm working late tonight, and I didn't have time to eat dinner before I left, so I figured while I was in Shinjuku I could come see what you had—“ Shinra stops talking and tilts his head to the side, observing Izaya. “You look awful. What have you been up to?”

“Also working,” Izaya says. He reaches up to wipe crusted drool from the corner of his mouth. “So you came to raid my fridge?”

“Ah, yes!” Shinra turns and continues his march to the kitchen. “I just got done with an emergency call, and next I'll be going to visit another patient. I didn't want fast food, so here I am! Did Yagiri-san make anything?”

“Should be leftovers somewhere around here.” Izaya looks back at his own pasta, feels his stomach rumble. He can't remember the last time he really ate or slept fully.

“Why don't we eat something together?” Shinra asks. “You look ready to fall over.”

Izaya ends up tossing the pasta. It was congealed together, and not very good in the first place. Namie picked the place to order from, but he'll definitely complain enough about it later to where they don't order from there again. Shinra actually goes through the trouble of throwing together some fried rice, because Izaya doesn't have the ingredients for much else. He'll have to send Namie for groceries.

“So what are you working on so religiously, anyway?” Shinra asks as they sit down. “I haven't seen you this absorbed in work for a while.”

“It's not just one assignment, but multiple. All of them are due around the same time.” Izaya eats a bite of rice and shrugs. “It's just poor timing.”

“More than that though, right? I heard Shiki-san was pissed at you for multiple reasons. Sounds like he's keeping you overloaded on purpose.” Shinra smirks at him. “You can never leave well-enough alone, Izaya-kun.”

“'Well-enough',” Izaya scoffs. “If he had his way, I'd be locked in a cage, of use only to him and his little cronies.”

“That's what you signed up for. You'll get yourself killed if you keep meddling. I mean, come on, Akane-chan? What did you think would happen by sending her off on her own like that?”

“Who says I was behind any of that? Akane-chan has a smartphone. Kids like her are always going to be involved in things, because they want better than they're given.”

“I don't believe you, and I know Shiki-san doesn't, either. It's clear he's punishing you, but...” Shinra leans closer, lowers his voice like he thinks Shiki is in the next room. “To be honest, I thought you'd have it way worse than this. You ordered Shizuo-kun's attack too, didn't you? I thought Shiki-san would hang you upside-down.”

“Again, Shinra, you're reaching way too far. I never said I was responsible for Shizu-chan either.”

Shinra pouts, and then sits back in his chair, shoveling down more rice. “Fine. Don't tell me. Just take better care of yourself, at any rate. It's not like you can't cure the effects of fatigue with your power. You're choosing to suffer, right? But then again, you've always been like that.”

“Don't you have another appointment soon?” Izaya asks, annoyed by Shinra and his big mouth. He's often wondered if friendship is supposed to be this exhausting, but it isn't like he has anything else to compare it to. Shinra was always the only one crazy enough to stick around.

“I'm only saying. You should accept your punishments and actually learn something from them every now and then. It seems like you just bounce back, more determined to make a nuisance of yourself than before.”

“If I don't make a nuisance of myself, I'll die from boredom,” Izaya lilts. “It's really that simple.”

“More like you're worried about being forgotten.”

Izaya resists the urge to throw something at Shinra, who is wearing a strange expression, something akin to actual concern.

“You've improved on your acting ability,” Izaya says, pushing away from the table. “Don't act friendly towards me now. It doesn't suit you.”

“I am your friend,” Shinra insists. “I'm the only one you've got, so maybe you should listen to me once in a while.”

“It always goes back to Celty anyway. What, are you worried I'm going to use her for something too dangerous?”

“Celty agrees with me that it's unusual for you to allow Shizuo-kun to be in your space as you have. Are you actually feeling guilty?”

“Are you?” Izaya stands and grabs a bottle of red wine from his counter before he pads over to his desk. “I don't have the time for this, Shinra. See yourself out when you're ready to go.”

Shinra sighs loudly, finishes his dinner, and picks up his briefcase. He walks towards the door.

“Take care of yourself, Izaya-kun. If you even know how to.”

Izaya uses his magic to slam the door shut behind Shinra, and then he drinks until he passes out.

***

He wakes hours later, in bed somehow.

Groaning, he sits up, trying to remember the night before. His mouth feels like cotton, and his head feels like it's trying to split itself open. He thinks he may throw up at some point in the very near future.

“Feeling better?” Tsukumoya asks from beside him. The shades are drawn closed, and the room is still dark despite the sun being out. Izaya glares at the vampire in his space.

“Why are you here?” he croaks.

“You don't remember? You invited me. We fucked.” Tsukumoya has his laptop, and is typing ridiculously fast even as he speaks. “It was quite the evening.”

“I'm serious. You just keep popping up. It's annoying.”

“Mm. I had a feeling you were being your usual destructive self. There's water for you on your nightstand.”

Izaya reaches next to him, grabs the glass before chugging it. His stomach immediately churns dangerously in protest.

“Why not take a healing potion? I know you have plenty of them,” Tsukumoya says, still not looking at him.

“Don't need it.”

“Right, you don't. The great Orihara Izaya doesn't need anything or anyone, how could I forget?” Tsukumoya finally glances over at him. “You might need to reconsider. Tonight's the night of the full moon. You'll need to be alert when your puppy visits.”

“Fuck, is it? I forgot all about it.” Izaya groans and flops back into the bed, rolling away from the annoying vampire in his space. “You weren't supposed to come until tomorrow.”

“Stop complaining so much. Do you need more water?”

Grumbling, Izaya tries to piece together the night before. He drank too much, he remembers that. Shinra was being annoying. He definitely fell asleep at his desk, meaning Tsukumoya carried him to bed.

“We didn't really fuck, did we?” Izaya asks.

“No. Did you want to?” Tsukumoya's voice is annoyingly smug. “I wouldn't be opposed.”

Izaya snorts and closes his eyes, wills the room to stop spinning. “Don't flatter yourself. You're not my type.”

“I'm not? Here I thought you had a thing for monsters.”

Izaya considers throwing Tsukumoya across the room, but that would be rising to the stupid teasing, and it would require more effort than he currently wants to exert. He stays where he is, listening to the sound of Tsukumoya's fingers on the keys.

“You're being especially pitiful lately, Izaya,” Tsukumoya says after a while. “So you've lost control of your little game, so what? Maybe you should think of what to do next instead of working to the point of exhaustion. You know I hate it when you're predictable.”

“Why does it matter what I do? I'm trapped.”

Tsukumoya sighs. “Yes, you are. And what are you going to do about it?”

“Right now, I'm going to be miserably hungover. Next, who knows? It'll surprise us both.”

“If only I found you sooner.” Tsukumoya goes back to typing. “The things you could've done. Humans are always finding ways to control what they don't understand or fear. But now, you can only help yourself. If you believe you're going to be trapped forever, they've already won.”

“I know that.” Izaya thinks of the work assignments that aren't ever going to stop, and he thinks of Akane, of Shizuo. He knows he went too far, but he has to go even further still.

Tsukumoya seems like he wants to say more, but he pauses, and the typing stops once more.

“You really might want to take that potion now,” he says. “One of your executives is on his way here.”

***

Izaya does not take the potion, and when he answers his door, it's with a slightly green complexion. Akabayashi takes one look at him, and promptly bursts into laughter.

“Oh, wow. And I thought I drank too much. You look awful, brat.” Akabayashi invites himself inside, stepping around Izaya. “I'm doing a wellness check on behalf of the boss. You understand, right?”

“Seems like I have more people in my life than I thought,” Izaya says, closing the door before moving to his couch. “This is my third wellness check.”

“Hard to believe a roach like you has friends, but then again, this city has an infestation. You missed a deadline today.”

“I got a little carried away last night. I've been in bed all day.”

“But you answered the door fully dressed, like you've been up and about,” Akabayashi presses.

“I sensed you coming,” Izaya lies.

Akabayashi hums in thought, and he grins menacingly. “Ya know, I ran into Heiwajima the other day at Sunshine. He seemed really interested in who bit him and why.”

“You should tell him,” Izaya says. “If anything, it would get him off my back for a while.”

“Oh, don't act innocent. We all know who made the phone call that started everything.”

“Clearly what I want doesn't matter. You've made that abundantly clear.”

Akabayashi walks closer to the couch, and he leans closer to Izaya. “Watch yourself, kid. Just because you haven't been caught in the act yet doesn't mean we don't know you're guilty. That magic of yours will only get you so far with us.”

“If your power spans so far, you shouldn't be worried about what I did or didn't do. If you really knew I was guilty, you'd have killed me by now,” Izaya says.

“Assuming monsters like you actually have enough humanity left to die.”

“Why don't we both find out?”

They glare at each other, and Izaya can sense from Akabayashi that the executive would like nothing more than to tear him limb from limb, but he won't. It would be against Shiki's wishes, and as much as Akabayashi hates it, he has to follow orders, or he'll be next on the chopping block. He takes another step towards the couch, but before he can do or say anything, the door slams open with such force that it bangs against the wall and cracks it.

“Hello, Shizu-chan,” Izaya calls without breaking eye-contact with Akabayashi. “Entertain yourself for a moment, will you?”

“What the fuck is this?” Shizuo asks. He growls when he notices Akabayashi. “Oi! I still have questions for you, asshole!”

“I'm sure you do,” Akabayashi says, standing up straight again. He grins at Shizuo. “I can't answer 'em for you, though. Sorry about that.”

“I could always beat it out of you,” Shizuo says, cracking his knuckles. “I'm even stronger than I used to be, since you bastards made me into a monster.”

“You wouldn't get far. I'd relax, if I were you.” Akabayashi turns back to Izaya. “Get to work, brat. Shiki's only so forgiving.” With that, he turns on his heel, and goes towards the door. Shizuo makes to stop him, but Izaya lifts his hand and summons Shizuo backwards, towards the couch.

“What the fuck!” Shizuo shouts, fighting it. “Let me go!”

“Don't make me exert myself, Shizu-chan. I'm having a rough day,” Izaya says. Shizuo turns and glowers at him, but his features soften.

“What's wrong with you? Are you sick?”

“Yes.” The door opens and closes, and Izaya knows he's alone with Shizuo once more. “You didn't knock this time.”

“Didn't think I needed to. It's not like you weren't expecting me.” Shizuo leans down, scrutinizes Izaya. “You're hungover.”

“Don't read my mind,” Izaya huffs, curling into himself.

“I didn't. You reek of alcohol.”

Grumbling, Izaya summons a blanket and throws it over himself. He doesn't know if he prefers Tsukumoya's company to Shizuo's, but at the moment, he thinks he'd rather deal with the vampire. At least for a little bit.

What a messy flea. Shizuo thinks, and then he walks away from the couch. There's the sound of him sifting through the fridge, but there isn't anything for him to find. Namie had the day off, and Shinra cooked what little was available the night before.

“You might have to order out,” Izaya calls. “You have a couple of hours before sunset.”

Shizuo growls loudly, thinks something about Izaya being useless, and then pulls out his phone. Izaya stays where he is and doesn't move, enjoys the silence for a few moments before it's ultimately shattered by Shizuo, who is suddenly sitting on the couch near Izaya, but still far enough to where they're both comfortable.

“I ordered pizza,” Shizuo says, and he leans back against the couch cushions. “You should foot the bill.”

“If you wanted me to pay, you could've ordered something better,” Izaya replies.

“Nah, everywhere else would've taken too long. Pizza is fast and easy.”

Izaya watches sleepily as Shizuo picks up the remote and turns the TV on, flipping through a few channels before settling on a soap opera. It should feel weird, sitting here with Shizuo, watching a woman sob because she caught her husband having an affair, but it really doesn't feel weird at all. Maybe Izaya is too tired to feel one way or another about it, or maybe their strange mental link has done the majority of the work in making them civil towards one another. Either way, Izaya feels comfortable enough to let his guard down a little, and it's an instant relief, like setting down something immensely heavy.

“So, I don't get it. Why are you just sitting here feeling like shit when you can heal yourself easily enough?” Shizuo is still looking at the screen, but he's back to poking around in Izaya's head, whether he knows he's doing it or not.

“Shut up, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says without any real bite.

“Oh. You just want to feel bad. Seems like a stupid thing for someone who's supposed to be some kind of genius, but whatever.”

The woman on screen is confronting her husband's mistress, and it winds up in a fist fight on a balcony. Izaya snorts when the mistress is pushed off to her death. How predictable. Shizuo is scowling at the TV, but he's thinking about his shared dreams with Izaya, and also about some images he's been seeing through Izaya's side of the link. He's also thinking about Shinra, who apparently ran into Shizuo last night after his last appointment. Shinra seemed worried about Izaya.

He's a good actor. Izaya sends. He always has been.

I don't think he was acting. You look worse than you normally do.

I'm hungover, as you so aptly put it. You being in my head isn't helping me feel better.

“I'm not doing it on purpose!” Shizuo snaps, and the sudden loudness has Izaya flinching. “I don't get why it's happening either, okay? I'm only just now starting to believe it's not actually you doing it.”

Because you've seemed like such a mess ever since it started. Shizuo thinks, and Izaya grinds his teeth in frustration.

“I'm not a mess.”

“What did that guy want?” Shizuo asks, changing the subject abruptly.

“Akabayashi-san stops by from time to time to threaten me. It's a pastime for him.” Izaya is starting to feel nauseous again, so he closes his eyes and wills it to go away.

“Don't you work for him, though?”

“I don't work for anybody. I'm a freelance informant for hire, and I give the organization he's part of information when they pay me for it, same as anyone else.”

Shizuo frowns, thinks something biting about Izaya working for the Yakuza. “He seemed like he wanted to hurt you.”

“Oh, he does. They all do,” Izaya says. “They'd kill me if they could.”

Shizuo doesn't like that he has something in common with the Yakuza. He grimaces before he says, “So what? You're just too strong to die or some shit?”

“No,” Izaya replies. “I'm just too important for them do dispose of. I'm part of the reason they're as powerful as they are, and they know it, even if they hate it, even if they hate me. I'm the strongest tool in their arsenal. Killing me would be crippling themselves.”

Silence follows Izaya's words. Shizuo's mind is a whirlwind now, thinking so many things at once, all laced with rage. He doesn't like anything about what Izaya said, the way it was said so flippantly, the way Izaya doesn't seem to mind. Shizuo doesn't like that Izaya thinks of himself as a tool, as something other than human, even if it might be true. Shizuo doesn't want to think of himself as other than human, either.

Shizuo doesn't seem to do well with the truth.

“That isn't true,” Shizuo growls, no doubt in response to Izaya's thoughts. “You're a person. I'm a person. We're other things too, but whatever we are, we're human first. You said so yourself, right? You can die, you can be killed. You're human enough to die.”

“I'm telling you this once, and once only, beast,” Izaya murmurs, opening his eyes to glare at the TV as he speaks. “It would be the exact same as breaking a screwdriver, or losing your favorite toy. If I died, that would be it. They would just replace me. They want to, and they would if they could, but I'm one of the last of my kind, and I'm definitely the most powerful one left. I don't care about it, because I've always known I was only useful for what I knew and what I could do. If you're going to be hated, you damn well better be useful. That's the way it is.”

“Fuck that!” Shizuo yells, and he stands, his hands clenched into fists. “What the hell are you talking about? You think it's okay to sit here and feel sorry for yourself, like you didn't have a hand in being the hated little rat you are? You think it's just because of your magic? You're the one deciding to do the shitty things you do. People hate you. If they knew you were a witch, whatever, maybe some of them would hate you more, but it's only because they hate you already. Get the fuck over yourself.”

Izaya laughs, delighted at the outburst. Doing so hurts his head, and his vision swims. This is pitiful, isn't it? Feeling useless, being forced to lie back and swallow vomit just so no one else can ask anything more of him. If he's a tool, he's a damaged one, and every time he's human, he dulls himself a little more. If this is a game to be played, and his opponents have the winning hand, Izaya will make sure none of them win. He'll destroy himself if he has to. He'll destroy everything.

“Trust me, Shizu-chan,” he croaks, “I know they would've hated me either way. The difference between us is you're searching so hard for a place to belong, and I've accepted long ago that it doesn't exist. Now would you kindly shut the fuck up? My head hurts.”

Shizuo is seething, his breaths labored as he works to calm himself down. He wants to lift Izaya up and shake him until his head pops off. Then Shizuo wants to tear apart everything in the apartment, maybe go punch Akabayashi for good measure. He hates that he sees the reasoning in Izaya's words. He hates himself, and he hates Izaya more than anything else.

“Get out of my head,” Shizuo grits out.

“I'm trying,” Izaya says, and he leaves it at that.

They lapse back into silence, and when Shizuo flops back onto the couch, his brow is furrowed, his jaw set. It's clear he isn't going to let this go, but he at least doesn't want to be in a terrible mood before his transformation. The bloodlust is worse when he's angry. He has to keep reminding himself that Izaya is a liar, first and foremost. Izaya uses words to protect himself, and Shizuo doesn't have to, and won't, ever do the same.

“Well, isn't this cozy?” Tsukumoya's voice asks as he walks down the stairs. He's wearing a hood, covering himself from the weakening rays of sun that still shine through the windows.

“I thought you left,” Izaya calls as Shizuo whirls to growl at the vampire.

“I was going to, but I figured I'd stick around to make sure you didn't die,” Tsukumoya says. He smirks at the scene of Shizuo and Izaya sitting together almost peacefully, watching trash TV in silence. “I wondered how your nights with the puppy went. I suppose I can see for myself now.”

“Why the fuck are you here?!” Shizuo barks, and then he whirls to face Izaya. “Does he always just pop up like this?”

“Not always,” Izaya says. “He stayed the night.”

“What?”

“Relax, Heiwajima-san. Rest assured, I didn't touch him.” Tsukumoya flounces past the couch while Shizuo's face turns a variety of fun colors. “At least, not much.”

Shizuo stands from the couch, and Izaya sighs loudly.

“Don't you have anything better to do?” he asks Tsukumoya, who is still looking at Shizuo appraisingly.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I trust you won't drink yourself stupid a second night in a row?” Tsukumoya says, looking at Izaya.

“I don't have the luxury tonight,” Izaya answers.

“Right, you're puppy-sitting.”

“Do you mean me, you fucking—“ Shizuo starts, and he barrels towards Tsukumoya, who easily side-steps him.

“Make sure you eat something at some point,” Tsukumoya calls to Izaya. “That pizza will help you feel better.”

“I don't want it,” Izaya grumbles, covering his head with the blanket. He hates both of the people in his space right now, and he just wants to sleep.

You must be making a conscious effort to not heal yourself if you're still this sick over a hangover. Tsukumoya's voice sounds in Izaya's head. Is this really helping anything?

Yes. Izaya can't escape either of them, can he? They're both annoyingly perceptive and persistent. He can feel fondness radiating from Tsukumoya, but it's quickly being overshadowed by the amount of fury pouring from Shizuo, who is clearly listening to their mental conversation.

“Your pizza is here,” Tsukumoya says, and the knock comes a moment later. “Make sure he eats something, please,” he says to Shizuo, and then he vanishes before anything else can be said.

***

Shizuo scarfs down the entire pizza at breakneck speed, once or twice trying to get Izaya to accept a slice before giving up. He doesn't care if Izaya eats or not, and he doesn't care if Izaya feels sick or not. Shizuo's mood increases as he eats, and by the time he's finished, he's as mellow as he ever is while sharing a space with his mortal enemy.

Izaya, for his part, is starting to feel a little better. His stomach rumbles a bit at the scent of the pizza, but his appetite wanes at the grotesquely barbaric way Shizuo eats. It seems worse than usual, more...animalistic.

In fact...something seems off about Shizuo, even for a full moon. Maybe something happened earlier, or maybe Shizuo just went too long without eating until now, but Izaya can sense the bloodlust permeating from Shizuo like a miasma.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, slowly sitting up to level his gaze at his unwanted guest. “Have you taken your potion?”

“Huh? Of course I have,” Shizuo replies. His hair is glowing from the fading rays of the sun as it descends behind the tall buildings outside.

“Have you taken it exactly as you should, the way I instructed?” Izaya asks through clenched teeth, already knowing the answer.

“Well— I drank it all a couple of days ago. I spent all day with Vorona, and I didn't want—“ Shizuo pauses at the look on Izaya's face. “What? What did I do wrong? You said to take it all before the full moon, and I did!”

“I told you to drink it every day, bit by bit, and to finish it before the full moon. The exact way you've done every month until now, because you're so pathetic in the presence of that woman that you can't follow basic fucking instructions!” Izaya snaps, and Shizuo's eyes widen.

He looks scared. Shizuo thinks, and then a beat later, Oh fuck. He's scared of me.

“Izaya, I—“ Shizuo begins, and then his hands grip his knees as his body begins to shake. The sun's rays fade at last, bathing them in twilight. “I feel...wrong.”

Izaya stands from the couch, the room spinning as he does. He's not at his full power. Even if he weren't hungover, he hasn't been eating or sleeping the way he should, buried in work as he is, and reluctant to care for himself as ever. He starts towards the stairs, in search of the healing potion he should have taken earlier, but he knows it's already far too late, as Shizuo's body is already beginning to crack and twist, and his mind is already gone, replaced by that of a true monster.

“Shizu-chan, you're such a fucking idiot,” Izaya hisses, and his sentence is barely finished before Shizuo is lunging at him, aiming for his throat.

#with teeth fic #shizaya #Izaya Orihara #Shizuo Heiwajima #witchy izaya #werewolf shizuo #shit goes down and also apparently people like Tsukumoya pestering Izaya so I added more of that

34 notes · View notes