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sepublic · 2 years ago

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Honestly, I just… Feel BAD for Belos at this point. He’s easily the most pitiable character in the entire show, Philip Wittebane has probably suffered more than anyone else, in a way that is 100% deserved, karmic, that he totally brought on himself and can’t blame anyone or anything else for. Belos has just been constantly wallowing in this cold bitterness for the vast majority of his existence, been defined by it; He’s like freaking Ebenezer Scrooge.

Philip’s so lonely and desperate for validation that it’ll make him act stupid around Luz as he latches onto her for validation, even as poor Luz cringes because she does NOT want this guy, she didn’t ask for him, but at the same time she has to humor Philip’s pathetic delusions for the sake of everyone else. Thinking you’re better than everyone else, that they’re all lowly and subhuman, is inevitably an isolating experience.

And like! He very easily COULD have companionship, he has an entire SOCIETY and its generations fawning at his feet. But he refuses it, because it doesn’t match Philip’s arbitrary criteria. It’s such a sad waste, really. He wants a playmate and best friend, but under a VERY specific set of circumstances, in his own way, and it’s just… As Eda said, you sometimes just gotta step out and make your own family with what you have, instead of waiting and expecting it; Even IF it’s technically destiny for Philip to have another human ‘friend’ show up.

Is that part of his unhealthy obsession with Luz? She’s a human who helped him back when he was Philip, and even after centuries as Belos, she still didn’t fail to return to him after all that time and effort. It could’ve fed his delusions that Caleb would do the same. Belos is a manchild who misses and longs for his older brother to take care of him like before, and he’s throwing a tantrum over the loss. He wants a replacement, but on his own specific terms, because any other way would acknowledge that he can’t go back to the way things were, and isn’t that something we can all relate to? But even as he does everything to keep things the same or restore them, perform damage control, it just keeps getting worse.

He’s so clearly insecure, needling Luz for approval and validation from a peer. He’s like playdough in the palm of her hands under the right circumstances, look at how she makes Philip feel self-conscious over his fit! He knows and suspects that the world has changed, he’s collected the human garbage over the years, no doubt as some twisted form of sentimentality. The false vision he gives the Coven Heads proves that he’s aware of modern architecture. But maybe that’s just a SURFACE-level change, right?

He’s “How do you do fellow kids” but also to humans because he’s realizing he’s out of touch with THEM too, he’s become so lonely his monstrous form is symbolic, losing for himself what he sought for in others; So yet another thing he’s missed, a specific definition of humanity, is gone too. Belos wants to be told he’s still doing the “human” thing correctly even as he becomes something very much not.

Philip just flips back and forth between so easily vulnerable in his desperation, to frighteningly dangerous and petulant when he doesn’t get what he wants after sacrificing and prostrating himself; It must be terrifying, being on the receiving end of someone who places so much faith and responsibility as a burden on your shoulders, the pressure! He really is like the Collector, more than he’d like to admit. And now that cursed mirror of his, reflected in a literal mirror, has taken everything from him; As did Luz, playing into Belos’ insecurities, it must be utterly humiliating.

All in a way he brought on himself, of course; He CHOSE to project onto poor Luz, convinced himself he was her Eda, her jaded older mentor who finds a kid to adopt and teach, even as she fills the emptiness in his heart left by his forsaken older sibling, lost to the wrong cause. She PLAYED him, how could Luz be so cruel, Philip feels so bad for his poor self and wants to curl up and cry! Eda sometimes acted a bit rash in wanting to impress Luz for her approval, but this��!

It’s like he’s being punished for opening up, exposing his own soft spots in the process to someone he expects to be tender with, and then shuts himself up again once hurt; Because NEVER again, he just gets more and more embittered and cynical, more certain of the world as this cruel place that’s targeting HIM specifically. He rejects humans and thus his own humanity in the process. First Caleb, then the Grimwalkers, now Luz…

And now, Philip’s back home, and it’s all changed, the original idyllic vision that he depended on. It’s all been for nothing. Philip has tortured himself with the transformations, the mutations, and it’s all for nothing. Everyone loves Halloween and witches now. His home is unrecognizable to himself, as is he. He’s gone from a human to a drop of green goop. He’s become the feared cryptid monster alluded to in bedtime stories, the one Caleb would’ve protected him from. Philip’s been through so much mourning and agony over Caleb, over his idyllic and nostalgic childhood. I can’t imagine the physical agony as Philip rebuilt himself, wanting to scream but not allowing himself to remain hidden.

At this point, I HOPE he dies; Not because I’m sick of his character. But because it’d be a mercy killing. With all of his pain and agony and unsustainable wishes, with the childish and naïve certainty that he’s right, leaping at the chance to be told he’s right, the worn-down feeling over the years… For all my scorn, I also feel sympathy for the devil. He’s like Senator Armstrong, despicable but also legitimately hurt, he just wants this stupid world to make sense!

I hope that in death, Philip Wittebane can finally find the peace he’s been searching for, the rest he’s agonized and longed for over lifetimes beyond what any human should endure, amidst the green, green grass of home. There just isn’t any other course for this sad, tormented soul, beyond some blissful ignorance and denial in his dying visions of Caleb accepting him in the afterlife, having made it to heaven after all thanks to Philip’s timely intervention, having been shown the light after all! He DID save Caleb, they can be together, are you proud of me Caleb…?

I fucking LOVE villains with very human grief and loneliness who also totally brought this on themselves and are just so desperately deluded and isolated in their denial, in their futile coping by throwing themselves against this unsustainable idea, just the most PITIABLE and pathetic fucker ever. Still clinging because they’ll have nothing left if they let go. Philip is a sobbing child, kicking and screaming and burping because someone was mean to him, hurt his feelings and took his favorite toy away.

The world is always revolving around HIM and HIS comfort, so Pip can’t comprehend how anyone could be mean to him because he’s like the Main Character or something. He can’t understand that other people have their own lives and needs and wants outside of him, as Caleb did; It drives him MAD. He can’t keep living like this, with this shattered innocence and realization, and hopefully Philip won’t have to anymore. Not by living denial, because that clearly hasn’t worked across centuries of trial and error, chances; But with ignorant death. What a disturbing dude, not just to us but even himself.

It’s funny. Philip convinced himself of a recognition of the self in the other (affectionate) in Luz, while desperately ignoring the recognition of the self in the other (derogatory) in the Collector, whom he’s spent more time with than anyone else. I suppose a kid who truly reminds himself of who he really is would be the worst, because seeing another Main Character like you just hammers in that you’re not THE Main Character if others are; You’re not special if others feel the same as you. Empathy is the worst idea ever to a racist colonizer, imagine.

#the owl house #philip wittebane #emperor belos #character analysis

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the-apprentice-lia · 3 years ago

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Hey! I saw that you do headcanons as well? Sorry if I’m asking in the right place but I loved your post on Asra’s hurt!! Could you possibly do the “mc getting slapped by the m6” ask please? My angsty little heart needs foodddd

hiii!! i’m so glad you liked my post:)) don’t worry, i’ll do my best to not cry when i’m writing this although it probably won’t work

i just wanna say that under no circumstances is it okay to hurt your partner!! please don’t take this post the wrong way:)

the main 6 slapping mc

asra

• it probably started because of how much he keeps from you. you know it’s just because he doesn’t want to see you hurt or unhappy because of how much of your life you’ve lost to your premature death, but it’s still so infuriating. you’re not a child, and you tell him as much.

• as much as you love each other, arguments can get messy. you know so much about each other that it’s difficult not to go for the soft parts in an argument, and you just snap.

• they’re probably running his hands through his hair, tears of frustration and pent up feelings slipping down his cheeks and catching the light of the many candles around the shop, making them glister strangely beneath the low light.

• “asra, you’re being ridiculous. how in the arcana am i supposed to know about who i was if you won’t fucking tell me?” you shout at them, crystals and glass bottles clinking together on the shelves.

• asra breaks, finally raising his voice as well, telling you that you’re acting like a child. you feel a twisted feeling of satisfaction at his loss of control. at least they’re actually treating you like a person�� but you’re still so frustrated.’why can’t he just see that you’re not a china doll, easily broken and delicately made?

•you’re screaming now, tears blurring your vision. all you see is red. “if i’m acting like such a child then why did you even bother bringing me back? you should have just fucking left me to rot beneath the lazaret if you won’t so much as—” you’re cut off with a sharp crack.

• asra’s stronger than they look, and he wasn’t thinking as he lashed out in anger and pain, so you probably stumble back into the shelves behind you, or onto the counter of the shop.

• you touch your hand to your hot cheek with a dull feeling of surprise. it’s as if everything is through a haze, your gaze flickering up to meet asra’s horrified one as you take a step back, a dry sob heaving through your chest as your knees give out and you sink to the floor.

• “mc, i’m so sorry, i can’t— i don’t— please. i’m so sorry,” he stumbles over his words as he crouches before you, giving you enough space that you could easily leave. you don’t, and he breathes out slowly as they reach towards you and gently, heartbreakingly softly, cups your face to turn it towards him. he inhales sharply as he takes in your bruised cheekbone, red already beginning to spread outwards in the shape of his hand, and he flinches to see that he’s hurt you, his beloved apprentice.

• he opens his arms slowly, hesitantly, and you sink into them, burying your face in his scarves and then drawing back slightly with a faint hiss as your cheek touches the fabric, and he lets out a sob as well, burying his face in your sweet-smelling hair. murmurs “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” into you over and over again, rocking you back and forth on the floor of the shop.

• he’ll hurt for weeks after, even after the bruise fades, he’ll simply refuse to touch you for days after the incident. whispers “but what if i hurt you,” his voice breaking at the mere thought of it, and you cradle him to you, stroking his cheek as he shakes.

nadia

• the argument was probably about her refusing to ask for help. she’s been alone for so long that the refusal simply comes naturally. she has to prove that she can be successful alone, that she can make something of herself without anyone.

• at first, you tell her gently that she can trust you, that you’re always here for her, and that she doesn’t have to do this alone— but she doesn’t want to hear it, telling you insistently that she doesn’t need any help.

• “your dark circles would say otherwise, nadi! you can’t keep going on like this!” you tell her, your voice strained as you lay a hand on her arm. you just want to help her, but she won’t listen to you. “i can do it myself,” she tells you coldly, pulling away from you and turning back to her work. “i don’t need your help. i never have.”

• you feel the hurt blossom in your chest, but you try to push it down as you close her books, smudging the ink on a document by mistake. “nadi, please.” you tell her, but she doesn’t even seem to hear you as she opens her books and sets her jaw, looking at the ruined document. you bite your lip in dismay and go to apologise, but she cuts in before you get the chance. “you ruin everything. you’re such a nuisance, can you not find anything better to do with your time than to bother me? i am the countess of vesuvia, and i don’t need your help.” she’s shouting by the end of her outburst, and you recoil, hurt now showing across your face— but it’s quickly replaced by anger.

• you laugh disbelievingly, your voice spiteful and pained as you speak. “you don’t need my help? well that’s certainly a different tune than the one you were singing when you came to me in the middle of the night, asking for my help. and even then i gave it unbegrudgingly. you’re so stubborn, nadia! you’re so ridiculously naïve that you can’t even see that not everybody’s against you. so your sisters acted like every older sibling the world over, and excluded you from a few games. you carry grudges as if the world’s out to get you and nobody seeks to help you. you’re such a child! why—” your screaming cuts off at the sharp crack.

• you cry out at the sudden flare of pain. nadia’s also a lot stronger than she looks— i mean, she’s a master sword-fighter. and so, you stumble backwards into the marble table opposite her desk, turning away from her to catch your breath, your figure shaking with quiet sobs. everything seems to fall away, and you hold your arms around yourself in a poor attempt to keep your paroxysms of sobs quiet.

• nadia is completely silent. the jarring force snapped her out of whatever tired grumpiness she had been wallowing in, and now she’s just looking at her hands, a look of absolute horror twisting her features as she takes in the hand, resting palm-down on her knees, that she used to— to— she can’t even think about it. she has betrayed your trust, used your relationship, built on a foundation of love and mutual respect, to hurt you. it’s as if she’s seeing the world through a haze of disbelief. she’s taken advantage of your love for her, she’s physically violated you, and the thought of that leaves her physically ill. hot tears drop steadily into her lap, as she turns her hands over, and her eyes widen even more, if possible, with horror. blood glisters thickly on her index finger, coating the closest section to her palm where a golden ring sits. the countess of vesuvia never takes her rings off during the day, and she’s snapped out of her daze by the quiet hiss that comes from where you stand.

•when the first tears stream down your face, you hiss at the sharp pain, touching your fingers gently to your face and wincing as they come into contact with… is that a wound? you stare at them as they come away a deep, garnetine red. your hair is sticking to the blood running down your face from the wound. you sob dryly as the pain sets in, and by the gods it stings. it seems that even the air twists into your opened skin, burning sharply. you’re so lost in the mist of disbelief you barely notice when nadia comes up behind you.

• “my love?” her voice comes, softly, and you stiffen as she lays a hand on your upper arm. she withdraws it quickly as her voice breaks. “please, mc. say anything. look at me, i beg of you.” you don’t say anything for a minute before you inhale softly and turn to her.

• something in nadia breaks. she lifts shaking fingers up to her mouth as your eyes meet hers, and she takes in what she’s done to you. she’s sliced your upper-cheek open from just short of the bridge of your nose to almost the edge of your face. and the cut is deep. bruising spreads around it, in the shape of her hand, and she lets out a sob before dropping to her knees, taking your hand in hers. “by the arcana, mc, i am so, so sorry— i don’t know— i can’t— please, my love, i am so sorry,” she presses her forehead to your hand before you start to cry, sinking to your knees as well and burying your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking. you hiss softly as you draw your hand away and it comes away a glistening, wine-dark red.

• you flinch away from her as she comes to envelop you in a hug. “don’t. please,” you say softly, pulling yourself away from her. you leave bloodstains on the floor. her eyes hold inexplicable sorrow and remorse in them, as she nods haltingly, her heart breaking as she realises— you’re… afraid of her. later, she’ll bury her head into her pillow and sob her heart out but for now, she needs you to know to not be afraid of her. she loves you, you know that— and you need to know she’ll never violate the trust you put in her again.

• “mc… please. i’m so, so inexplicably sorry for what i’ve done to you. i promise it will never happen again.” her voice is soft, and she speaks to you as if you’re a wounded deer she’s found in the palace gardens, her voice breaking as she lets you see that she’s approaching you, her arms in front of her as she holds them out softly when she’s quite close to you.

• you look at her, meet her eyes with yours, and slowly settle into her embrace as she lets out a quiet sob of relief, burying her head in your hair. you pull away with a quiet gasp of pain when her hair meets your wound, and she cups your face (your good side) softly, stroking your cheek with her thumb as you close your eyes and she moves closer to you, giving you the time to pull away before her lips meet your forehead and she kisses you there gently before pressing one just above your cut and pulling you back to her, minding your cheek. you cry softly into her chest, and she does so into your hair. the two of you stay there until the blood starts to dry on your cheek and she stands, helping you up.

• “i’m taking you to the infirmary, dearest one.” “but… nadia.” you gesture to the state you’re in with a raised eyebrow. blood stains your collar and had dripped down your cheek in steady rivulets— and now your entire cheek is coated in blood. the cut itself is deep and thorough, splitting the skin so that the flesh beneath is easily visible, and the black, blue, and red flesh around your cut in the shape of nadia’s hand is enough that there is no room to doubt how your injury happened. “i’m your partner. there’s nobody else that would have done this— your entire court will know.” you look at her gently. “i can hide this.”

• and yet again, nadia’s heart is absolutely crushed. broken. shattered. “my heart, you should not have to hide what i have done. we’re going to the infirmary.”

• the entire way there, nadia weathers the stares and whispers with, for once, a bent head. you tighten your fingers around her hand— you know how important the favour of the court is. when you finally arrive, and you have to explain, haltingly, how you were injured, nadia gets a few looks of unbridled disgust as your injuries are treated. you squeeze her hand every now and again, and she looks at you gratefully. her eyes darken as you bite your lip roughly when the antiseptic meets it, your eyes watering as she strokes your hand, never taking her eyes away from you.

• afterwards, will absolutely doubt herself as a leader and a partner. no matter if you forgive her, no matter that the bruise fades and the wound heals, she’ll still always linger on your scar when she’s kissing your face, she’ll still murmur “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, darling,” into your hair for months after.

• if anyone is so much as even vaguely disdainful towards you with respects to your scar, you’ll literally have to talk her down from having them thrown out/arrested. you forgive her, and she loves you with all of her— but when dark feelings surface now there’s absolutely nothing you can do that will even get a shadow of a rise out of her. is just calm and collected. never so much as raises her voice at you.

• will 100% look at you as you sleep and hate herself for harming you in any way.

hope you enjoyed the angst fest!! these were so long— but i’ll do the next four periodically:)

#nadia the arcana #nadia x mc #nadia headcanons #nadia satrinava #countess nadia #the arcana nadia #asra the arcana #asra x mc #the arcana angst #angst headcanon #asra headcanons #asra alzanar #the arcana asra

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rocorambles · 4 years ago

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Surprise Interview

Pairing: Kenma x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Pseudo-Cest, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Verbal Humiliation, Manipulation

Summary: Kenma sees if you have what it takes to be Bouncing Ball’s newest employee.

A/N: This is for @sugawara-sweetheart ‘s Decadence Collab. So excited to be a part of this collab and to be able to indulge in such a delicious prompt and theme. Be sure to check out everyone else’s works! As always, thanks for beta-ing @sawamooora ~

There’s a familiar peace and a new nervousness about coming back home for the holidays. Mostly because home isn’t quite the same home it used to be. You can feel warmth blooming in your chest at the thought of seeing your mom, telling her about everything and everyone (as if your daily phone calls aren’t enough), and just lounging around while she fills you up with her cooking. But you can also feel a certain shyness as you approach the house, a building that still feels brand new and strange to you.

Your mother had gotten remarried during your earlier college years after your father’s passing and you were elated for her. If anyone deserves all the happiness in the world, it’s her. You had met Mr. Kozume quite a few times and you have no qualms with the man. He treats your mother like a queen and even though you playfully gag as they sweet talk and kiss in front of you, you wholeheartedly approve of their relationship.

However, what you aren’t quite as prepared for is having a new step-sibling.

You don’t know much about Kenma Kozume. Well, not much more than the rest of the world does.

Professional gamer. Successful stock trader. Popular YouTuber. Founder of his own corporation.

You know exactly who your new brother is, but other than seeing him a few times in person at family gatherings and exchanging polite greetings, there’s no real connection. Which is why your heart races as you nervously ring his doorbell, anxiety already making your leg twitch as you wait for the door to open.

Your mother and step-father are on a couple’s vacation and won’t be returning for a few days.

(“We just want some romantic time together before we have a full house again for the holidays. Plus this is a great chance to get to know your older brother better!” You hadn’t even been able to get a word of protest in before she had laughed and hung up on you, leaving you speechless and on your own as you hesitantly texted Kenma, letting him know what day to expect you.)

Kenma is quiet as ever as he nods in greeting, silently leading you to your guest room before quietly telling you to make yourself at home and leaving to do his own thing. You let out a huge sigh of relief as the door closes behind him.

There’s nothing wrong with Kenma. He’s smart and successful. Maybe a bit on the quiet side, but that only adds to his down to earth charm. You know your mother and step-father adore him and you can’t blame them. Yet, you can’t help but feel scrutinized, seen so clearly in a way that terrifies you when his feline eyes gaze at you. It takes everything in you not to immediately scurry away whenever you’re in viewing distance of him, desperate to hide all the flaws you imagine he’s noticing and calculating. Your step-father had mentioned how Kenma used to be the strategist of his high school volleyball team, and has always been able to evaluate and accurately break down situations and people. And you believe it.

You’re just grateful the house is large enough to avoid each other and that Kenma tends to reside mostly in his home office and bedroom.

But even the founder of a company needs a break from time to time. Kenma shuffles towards the gaming room, only to blink in surprise when he sees you already inside of it, happily smiling as Animal Crossing visuals and sounds fill the space.

He had known you owned a Nintendo Switch, a piece of information your mom had shared to break the ice a bit. And it’s really no surprise that this is your go-to game. But knowing and seeing are two different things and he can’t help but let his own lips twitch upwards at how calm and relaxed you are tending to your garden, decorating your home, choosing your outfit.

Kenma’s never been good with people, has never been the one to initiate a friendship. He knows he should have made more of an effort to be friendly and welcoming to you as your new older brother. There’s a slight pang of regret in his chest when he sees how at ease you are while you’re unaware of his presence. His eyes are as sharp as ever and he locks in on the way your body slightly stiffens, fingers nervously fidgeting when you finally notice his figure in the doorway, words already stuttering an apology for using his game room without explicitly asking.

You look like a scared mouse about to flee from the claws of a cat. And it pisses him off.

He hasn’t made the best efforts to bridge the gap between you, but for you to fear him? That seems a tad unnecessary, and more than a tad insulting. It’s more than enough to make the sadistic streak in him want to give you something to be scared about.

But he’s never been impulsive and he just quietly sits beside you on the floor, reassuring you it’s fine to play, smirking when you sneak little side glances his way as you continue collecting fruits.

“Kozume, do you want to play-”

“Just call me Kenma.”

Entranced eyes watch as you grow flustered at his words, mouth silently testing the weight of his given name in your mouth. For once, Kenma could care less about playing video games when a shaky timid “Kenma” slips past your soft lips.

“Kenma, do you want to play something together?”

You have no idea how badly he really does want to play together, but it’s a game you’re not ready for. So he calls upon any restraint he has to pluck your device from your hands and change the game to Mario Kart.

It’s amusing how easily you soften besides him, brow furrowing in concentration, eyes intently and eagerly following the screen, any anxiousness quickly forgotten as you get into the game. He greedily watches as you pout when you make a mistake, as your eyes light up every time you pass someone.

If he had known how easy it would be to make you warm up to him, he’d have done this sooner and he genuinely laughs when you whine and fake glare at him as he wins yet another round.

He asks about school. You ask about work. He tells you about his childhood. You share your own stories.

It’s a comfortable rhythmic back and forth and he’s afraid of ruining it, but a certain question nags at his mind, a question he knows may ruin the entire flow of the conversation.

“You’ll be graduating soon. Have you decided what you want to do after college?”

“Kenma not you too!!!”

His shoulders relax at how well you react to the question, smiling at the way you flop onto your back and groan about how mom and dad are already on your case about future plans.

“I’ve been applying to places, but who knows. Maybe I’ll just work for you at Bouncing Ball.”

There’s a playful lilt in your voice when you say it, a giggle and teasing smile accompanying the words. But there’s nothing funny about it to Kenma and your smile falters a bit when you see how tightly Kenma’s gripping his controller, the way his eyes pin you down.

“Kenma? It’s just a joke. I would never take advantage of-”

You try to get up from your reclined position, only to whimper in confusion when Kenma’s hand on your shoulder forces you back down. And suddenly you’re pinned down by more than just his stare as he moves to straddle you, knees on either side of your body, hands next to your head, his whole body caging yours.

It’s a lighthearted joke in the family that if all else fails, you could always work at Bouncing Ball. A joke your step-father and mother always dish out when the arguments get too tense as the three of you talk about your future. But it’s become less in jest for Kenma, especially after Kuroo sent him a scandalous picture of his newest secretary kneeling between his long legs, lips wrapped around his cock.

It wasn’t the first picture, nor was it the last incriminating photo the older businessman had sent him. Kenma merely rolled his eyes before deleting the image from his phone, wondering when Kuroo would grow bored and find a new toy to play with. But he freezes when he sees the following text message from his long-time friend.

“You’re the CEO of a company, Kenma. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone convenient around? A pretty warm body? I bet that cute new step sister of yours would look really good under your desk. Doesn’t she graduate from college soon? If you don’t make a move, maybe I’ll snatch her up right from under your nose. I’m due for a change of secretary soon.”

There’s absolutely no reason for the hot anger that lances through him at Kuroo’s taunting words and he grimaces at playing right into his ex-captain’s hands, already hearing Kuroo’s braying laughter in his head if the older man saw just how much his words affected him.

But initial irritation aside, he lets himself really think, really imagine what a life with you at his beck and call would be like. And he likes what he sees. He doesn’t delete Kuroo’s photos as quickly as he used to, replacing the female faces with yours in his imagination as his hands slip under the hem of his boxers.

He knows it’s a longshot, knows there’s a high chance you’ll continue your lives as is, never destined to exchange more than a few polite greetings at family outings. But now...now hearing you voice the idea out loud yourself, hearing the way his first name sounds from your lips…

Maybe it’s not the silly pipe dream he had believed it to be.

“I’m in need of an assistant if you really do want to work at Bouncing Ball, but you’d need to prove why it would be worth hiring you.”

He almost laughs at how you perk up despite the precarious position you’re in, almost ready to launch into an elevator pitch of your qualifications flat on your back underneath him. You’re quite the multitasker already and he groans at the thought of having you cockwarm him while he tests out a new video game, making you answer all his calls stuffed full of him and desperately trying to hide the lustful tremble in your voice.

But he’s not here to listen to your carefully crafted speech. (Guess you really were practicing for job interviews like you said you were. What a good girl.) And he firmly presses his lips against yours to silence you, taking his time to immerse himself in the way your mouths mold against each other.

Your taste, your smell, your warmth. It’s all intoxicating and he slips his tongue inside your parted lips, subtly rutting his groin against your body. He can feel your body jostle as you lift your arms and he waits for the weight of your arms to lovingly wrap around his neck, only to be shocked when you weakly press against his shoulders until he finally relents and pulls back just enough to look down at you in irritated confusion.

“We- we shouldn’t be doing this.”

It’s not the words that have him clenching his fists, not even the way your palms still timidly press against him in a laughably weak show of defense.

It’s the fear in your eyes, the way you look at him like he’s some monster. It's the way he can almost palpably feel and hear your desire to be anywhere other than here, with anyone other than him, wishing to put as much space between the two of you as possible.

It’s your rejection.

It hurts to know that he isn’t enough just as he is, that he needs to resort to less...savory and straightforward ways to entrap you. But he’s not Hinata or Kuroo. He doesn’t have an electrifying personality or roguishly handsome features and charm to woo you. He only has his cunning and sharp tongue.

And he fully intends on maximizing his gifts.

“Of course, you don’t have to. You can just keep on applying and getting rejected by every company you speak to, if they even bother meeting with you after seeing your pathetic resume. Average college. Average grades. Average major. Tell me, how many interviews have you actually been reached out to for?”

He’s going out on a bit of a limb, but his suspicions are right and he cruelly smirks at the way tears bubble in your eyes at his words, no comeback or denial rolling off the tip of your tongue. He had a feeling you were struggling from the bits and pieces he’s picked up as your parents quietly talk and fret over you actually being able to find a job after graduation.

“Our parents are too nice to say anything about it, but you know they’re disappointed in you, right? Have you noticed how they always avoid talking about how school is going or asking you about how job hunting is going? How they only ask me how work is going? It’s because they know you’re just a loser whose life is going to amount to nothing.”

“That’s not true! They love me-”

“I’m not saying they don’t love you, but doesn’t that make it even worse? Making your loving and caring parents worry and stress over you when they should be preparing for retirement, an easy life? Instead of letting them finally enjoy a carefree life, you’ll be their freeloader daughter who uses up all their remaining funds. Is that what you want?”

You really are too easy and his lips curl in satisfaction at the way you frantically shake your head side to side, fat wet drops streaming down your face, adorable sniffles filling the air.

“If you become my assistant, I’ll compensate you well. You can live here with me, have your own room, a roof over your head, all the food and clothing you need and want. Think about how relieved and happy our parents will be seeing you provided for, seeing us getting along. Isn’t that what you want? For them to be happy?”

He knows how close you are to your mom, how important this idea of a perfect family is to you. He knows how insecurity and doubt about your own capabilities torment you. And he knows you’re hooked on his claws when your hands that are still pressed against his shoulders drop limply besides you, not even a hint of resistance left in you when he leans down once more to rest his forehead on yours, one hand cupping the side of your face.

“This is all you’re good for anyway. Working underneath me.”

If you notice his pun, you don’t acknowledge it, too busy wincing and squirming as he harshly nips and bites a trail from your lips to your neck as he pushes up the hem of your shirt until your chest is on full display for him. There’s something experimental, cold, meticulous about the way he gropes and fondles your breasts.Your face heats in humiliation at how he treats you like one of the many game consoles he’s reviewed for his audience.

But you don’t do anything about it, telling yourself that this is just his version of an interview as he pinches and prods at you, meanly twisting your nipples and chuckling at your yelp of pain. You obediently let him spread your legs apart, only letting out an agonized cry as he tests your flexibility, staring at him with a trembling lower lip as he sharply tells you to shut up while scrutinizing your panty-covered sex.

“You really are made for this, aren’t you?��

You whimper as he nudges the small wet spot on the thin fabric, clenching your eyes shut in denial at how hot and wound up your body feels from his touch, unable to hide your gasp as he pulls the layer aside and rubs your aroused clit.

There’s something so different about the way his fingers slowly sink into your wet pussy, almost lazily curling against your soft walls, his thumb never stopping its careful massage on the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. So different from your own fingers desperately thrusting in and out of you. So different from the drunk partners you’ve hooked up with at college and their sloppy, rapid, frantic movements.

You can feel something large, something intimidating slowly rising from deep inside of you, a volcano about to erupt compared to the bright and fast to fade shooting stars you’re used to. You’re scared. Scared of the intoxicating feeling, of how easy it is to grow accustomed to Kenma’s presence, of how his cat-like eyes are all you can see and think of.

How can something feel so wrong and so right at the same time?

That’s the last coherent thought you have before your world goes blank, pleasure rocking through you as you soak the carpet and your step-brother’s hand with your juices. You’re moaning as Kenma continues to rock his fingers in and out of you, fingertips insistently massaging your clit and g-spot as you ride out your orgasm, body trembling and convulsing.

But even when the tremors slow, when pleasure becomes something sharper, more overwhelming, he doesn’t stop. You wail, begging him to stop, to let you rest, slumping in relief when he finally drags his hands away from you, carelessly wiping the mess you’ve made of his hand on your skin, covering you in your own essence.

Your heavy eyelids threaten to flutter shut as you let exhaustion wash over you, already dreading having to get up and wash yourself. But you’re shocked back to reality as something hard begins to nudge at your still fluttering entrance.

“Kenma! No! Too much-”

You break off into a sob as surprisingly strong hands dig into your hips, holding you still as he pushes and pushes until he’s fully settled inside of you, balls resting against your ass.

You’re still so tight, your quivering walls clamping around the intrusion, and he groans at the thought of being able to sink into this hole every day, multiple times, whenever he wants. His cock is already aching from holding off for so long, from watching your body and face contorted in pleasure. Kenma can feel his end quickly approaching as you scream and wail underneath him, eyes rolling back in your head, drool trickling from the corner of your mouth. You look absolutely obscene and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this side of you.

But despite the way his balls are tightening, despite the stutter in his hips, he’s determined to watch you fall apart once more, to see you shatter to pieces yet again. He grits his teeth, fingers reaching down to furiously rub at your already oversensitized clit, reveling in how your back arches, thighs shaking in overstimulation, and then you snap.

He wonders what his parents would think of their dear dumb daughter now, looking nothing like their silly angel, looking like a wanton used whore, incoherent garbled noises slipping past your lips as you twitch uncontrollably, your pussy milking him dry as he cums inside of you.

There’s only silence mixed with your pitiful whimpers as he slides out of you, grimacing at the sticky mess you’ve made of yourself and him. But that’s what your other hole is for and he orders you to suck him clean, admiring what a quick learner you are, eager to please as you noisily slurp and lick him clean, moaning at the taste of your combined fluids...

Maybe too eager and he shoves you off of him when you become too enthusiastic, his cock beginning to twitch in interest once more.

You look so lost, still sprawled out on the ground, staring up at him with wide imploring eyes as he pulls up his pants. So vulnerable and in need of guidance.

Good thing you have such a great boss to manage you.

“Not bad. Consider these next few days your internship and if all goes well, I’ll be more than happy to hire you as Bouncing Ball’s newest employee this summer. Now clean up this room and show me that my future assistant can do more than just be a slut.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kenma #yandere kenma x reader #haikyuu smut #kenma x reader #kenma smut #haikyuu x reader #sweetheart decadence #tw: yandere #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years ago

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A Pain You'll Soon Regret - Pt. 2

Poly! MC Summary: MC and the demon lords get in a fight resulting in MC leaving. They planned on going to Purgatory Hall until things cool off, but they never quite make it there. Ft. Poly!MC

TW: Heavy Angst, Violence, I don't know what to tag this, but there is a pretty nasty verbal fight, Gore/Injury Vomit Part 1: HERE, Part 3: HERE, Part 4: HERE

Meanwhile at the House of Lamentation

Your leaving hadn't made the situation at the House any better. Asmodeus threw his hands up in the air and glared at the rest. "Great! Just wonderful! Now they've run off. Happy now?" venom filled his words, but he could feel his heart race in fear that he had just lost the one person who loved him for more than his looks. Satan scoffed, though he glanced at the door through the corner of his eyes. "Don't act like you're better than us. I didn't see you standing up for them." Levi growled and went straight to his room as Satan and Asmodeus began to argue. Beel took a step towards to door you had just marched out of and glance between it and his brothers. "Should we go after them? It's dark and they're drunk."

Lucifer lifted his chin as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Why should we? It's like they said, they don't want to depend on us anymore, fine. Let them see for themself how far they get without our protection," with those words, Lucifer turned on his heel and stormed to his office.

Beel sighed and looked at Belphie, "What do you think? We can go get them together?" Belphie stared at the door for a minute, a guilty look in his eyes, before he shook his head. "Give them space, Beel. They're probably heading for Purgatory Hall. Simeon and the others can take care of them for tonight. Right now we all just need to calm down before facing each other again," he patted his twin's shoulder before heading to their room; regret swirling in his stomach as he thought of how he betrayed you once more.

Mammon stood frozen staring at the door like he still hadn't made up his mind on what he wanted to do. His instincts screamed at him to get you back in his arms and keep you there. You were his human, reckless or not, and he had a duty to protect you both as your assigned protector and as your boyfriend. But for some reason, he couldn't seem to move his feet. His mind replayed the discussion in his head over and over again. He had once told MC that if they couldn't be saved by him, to make sure that they died. That he was the only one allowed to protect them. Tonight, as everyone was fighting, MC needed him to protect them, but instead, he pushed them towards the wolves. He let his greed get the best of him. "Fuck," Mammon cursed to himself as he shook himself out of his thoughts. He glanced over to see Beel restraining Satan from pouncing onto a sneering Asmodeus. He sighed and shook his head. They hadn't fought like this in a long time. You had always been there to put them into their place. Now look at them. Mammon groaned and ran a hand over his face. "Will you guys cut it out? MC is gone, okay? Ain't nothin' we can do about it now," to his surprise, his younger brothers actually stopped and seemed to be listening to him. Mammon huffed and began walking towards the stairs. "It's like Belphie said. We ain't in no place to make things better right now. Fightin' like this is what got us in this position, so quit it. Get some sleep. We'll figure it all in the mornin'." Beel, Satan and Asmodeus blinked at their older brother as he disappeared upstairs. Seeing Mammon mature and take control of the situation like that, was strange, but not unfamiliar. Asmodeus massaged his temples with one hand and fixed his hair with the other. "Ugh, all this fighting is going to be horrid for my skin," he glanced at the door one more time with a defeated look before heading towards his room. Satan clenched and unclenched his hands a couple of times, taking a few deep breaths, before silently nodding at Beel and walking away. All alone, Beel stepped towards the door. He opened it and looked out at the dark vast of the Devildom before him. With a heavy, guilty heart, he closed the door and pressed his forehead against it. He used one hand to lock the door for the evening, while the other pulled out his D.D.D. The others didn't want him going after you, but a message couldn't hurt, right? He opened your contact and wrote out his text, "Hey MC. I'm sorry for how things happened tonight. Things got out of hand, and I'm sorry for not doing anything to stop that. I know you and the others are upset right now, but I was hoping that tomorrow, once we're all calm, you could come back home and we could talk about it?" Beel sat by the door for half an hour waiting for a response, but none ever came. He frowned and glanced up at the locked door handle before shaking his head. "Maybe they left it on silent for a bit," he mumbled to himself before picking up his phone once more. "Text me when you get to Purgatory Hall. You don't need to say anything else. I just want to know you're safe." With that, Beel headed towards the gym. He wasn't tired. He wasn't hungry. He just wanted you home, but he couldn't have that. So in the meantime, he'd stay awake until he at least knew you were safe.

Only the morning came and went, and there was no word from you. The brothers were starting to get concerned. No matter what was said last night, they still loved you. You all needed to talk, yes, and things needed to be worked out, but that didn't change how they felt for you. They would never want to see you hurt. Lucifer had reached out to Simeon, while Asmodeus contacted Solomon and Beel texted Luke. Only Beel received a response. "Never contact me again. If you come anywhere near Purgatory Hall, I will not hesitate to smite you in an instant, you foul fiend?" Satan read out loud as he passed the phone back to a very confused and worried Beel. "What in the world did you do to him?" "Nothing. At least, I don't think," he thought about for a second. "I've stolen his baked goods on occasion, but besides complaining about as I did it, he never seemed to hold a grudge." Lucifer frowned deeply. "This is clearly about MC. Luke has taken to them as though they're his older sibling."

Levi scowled and pressed a few buttons on his game. "Sure they aren't dating him too?" he yelped as Asmodeus smacked him on the back of the head. "Stop it," Asmodeus growled. "I know you're the Avatar of Envy, Levi, but MC was open and honest with us. They told us that they loved us all and that they wanted a relationship with all of us. We all listened to what they offered and agreed. You agreed to this!"

Levi huffed and put down his game. "Because it was better than not having them at all!" he sighed and put an arm over his face. "I know that they love me, and them being with a-all of us doesn't change that, but it's so hard sometimes. I-I-I just-" "Want 'em to yourself?" Mammon provided. Levi blushed and nodded in response. Mammon shrugged and sat down beside him. "We all understand that Levi. This is somethin' new for all of us. When I see MC bein' sweet with you guys I get this urge to just rip 'em off ya and hold 'em tight in my arms where ya guys can never touch 'em again," he sighed and put a hand on Levi's shoulder, "but then I see MC smile at me the same way they smile at Beel or you or Lucifer. I know that when I'm holdin' them, they're thinkin' of me and they're there with me because they treasure our time together. It's hard sometimes, and it hurts to admit, but you guys make MC happy, and I can't take that away from them." He nudged his younger brother gently, "Neither can you." Everyone sat quietly as they thought of Mammon's words. "They always bring me snacks after my workouts," Beel said with a small smile. "They always seem to know when I'm hungry and would just whip out snacks out of nowhere." Satan leaned onto his knees from where he sat on his chair. "They ordered me their favourite books from the human world on Akuzon. They wanted to do a trade. I'd read their favourites and they'd read mine. That way we could learn a bit about each other just by reading something that the other loved and would understand one another a little better." Belphie tiredly rubbed his eyes and leaned against Beel. "They wake me up after all class and before any meals," he chuckled softly at the memory. "No matter how much I snarled or insulted them, they'd just put their hands on their hips and patiently wait for me to wake up so that I wouldn't miss any of my classes or any meals."

Asmodeus giggled and smiled brightly. "That alone proves how much of an angel they are. Your demon side really shows when you're woken up." The others laughed as Belphegor stuck his tongue out at Asmo. "They would always give me their opinion on my outfits. I know it seems impossible, but even I get torn between which outfit I should bless the public with sometimes. MC would always be the voice of reason to help me choose," his eyes softened, "Though they always said at the end that the most beautiful thing about me was my heart, something no one could see but radiated from the outside-in." Lucifer sighed, closing his eyes as he put aside his pride, and spoke. "They check on me in the middle of the night. I swear they have an alarm. They'll come into my office to see if I'm still awake. If I am, so long as the work isn't truly urgent, they'll poke my cheek and play with my hair until I give in and go to bed."

Everyone turned to Levi. The otaku's face was bright red as he avoided everyone's gaze. "Your turn, Levi," Mammon ordered. "Come on. I know that MC's super gentle with ya. Ya have to have somethin' to add." Leviathan pouted before mumbling. "They'll hold my hand when we're in crowds and in public because they know how anxious it makes me. If I start to freak out, they'll just gently squeeze my hand and pull me along until they can find a quiet space where I can calm down a bit," he groans and glares at Mammon. "What's your point?"

"His point," Satan began calmly, "is that MC loves us all equally. They take special care to do the little things to ensure that we all know that we are loved by them." Mammon nodded and pointed and Satan. "Exactly!" Lucifer hummed in thought. "Though this doesn't fix the problem of MC having no regard for their own safety." Everyone winced. There was no denying that. You admitted it yourself. You were reckless, and in a place like the Devildom, that kind of behaviour would get you killed one day. What would happen if you weren't with them one day? Just like you currently weren't. Memories of your storm out swirled in all of their heads, and concern pooled heavily in their stomachs. "Has anyone heard from them yet?" Belphie asked, looking uncharacteristically nervous. But then again, he was always protective of you as he never wanted you to get hurt again, especially since he had been responsible for so much of your pain in the past. Beel opened his mouth to respond when Asmodeus's D.D.D. went off. Everyone eagerly stood, as Asmo pulled out the device and answered it without checking. "MC? Are you alright?" "Put it on speaker!" Levi snapped, crowding as close to his brother as he could. Asmodeus nodded and quickly did as told. The voice that answered wasn't you, as they had all hoped, but rather Solomon. "I'm afraid they're not," the brother's felt their blood freeze at Solomon's words, as time seemed to stand still around them. Solomon's voice was cold and stern, showing his obvious anger at the demons. "I apologize for not contacting you all sooner, but I was spending every last second of my time and energy on trying to keep MC from dying of blood loss. That, and Luke is quite determined to keep the lot of you as far from MC as possible. If it was up to him I wouldn't even be calling you all right now. I, however, figured that you should at least be made aware of their condition." None of them heard a thing after the words "dying from blood loss" reached their ears. Lucifer took the D.D.D. from Asmo's shaking hands. "What happened? The last we saw them they-" "Presumably walked away from a fight with all of you and was trying to come to us. Yes. I'm aware. I read Beelzebub's texts on MC's phone," everyone glanced at Beel. His brows narrowed as he kept his eyes fixed on the D.D.D. "To answer your question, MC didn't make it to Purgatory Hall last night. They were jumped by a group of three demons who seemed to think that human would make a delectable midnight snack. What do you think, Beelzebub? Is that true? Is the taste of human flesh, really so delicious? I think I've heard you comment as much once or twice before you all began your relationship," Solomon spat the words accusingly. Fury danced on his tongue as though he was Wrath himself. Beel winced back and put a hand on his stomach as flipped inside of him. Belphie growled at the mention in his defence. "Stop dancing around the subject and get to the point. What happened? Are they okay?" The demons were surprised to hear a snarl come from the other end. "I already told you, they aren't. Luke had opened a window to air out some of the kitchens after he failed a new recipe he was trying out when he heard their screams. By the time we got there one of them had eaten half of their right leg, while was one biting along their shoulder, and the other was trying to choke them to death. Simeon and I were able to get the heathens off of them and incinerated them on the spot, but MC was already unconscious. While we were fighting the demons, Luke was just barely able to cast enough healing spells to stop the bleeding and stabilize them. Simeon and I have been working ever since on using every spell, charm, and potion that we know to keep them alive and somehow attempt to heal their injuries." At the mention of MC's leg have been mostly eaten, Beel turned and threw up on the ground. No one moved to comfort him, as they were too distracted by their own states of shock. "A-Are-" Mammon began to choke out before clearing his throat. "Are they

alive? Please tell me they're alive." The answer hung just out of their grasp. Waving dangerously above them like a deadly knife held up by a string. No matter what the response would be, all the brothers felt as though they may faint. "They're alive. Simeon had to use all his power to bring their blood count levels up to a healthy level, and their shoulder was dislocated, they most likely have a concussion going off of their head injury, not to mention their right leg was unsalvagable and had to be amputated, but yes. They are, at the very least, alive." Mammon joined Beel. Satan stood still, though he had changed into his demon form and the aura of pure wrath filled every cranny of the room. Asmodeus held a hand over his mouth as tears streamed steadily down his face. Leviathan had stumbled away from the group and was in the beginning stages of a panic attack. Belphie stared at the phone with a bewildered expression, his eyes pricked with tears, as though he couldn't believe the words coming from Solomon's mouth.

Lucifer was doing everything he could not to hurl the phone across the room.

Solomon continued. "Luke is currently watching them and making sure that they remain stable, while Simeon and I rest. As such, you will have no luck if you try to see them right now. I'll text you when I wake up and then you can come to see them," with that, Solomon hung up. Anxiety, grief, and remorse clung to each of the brothers like a new skin. Earlier they were arguing that all of them had your love, and because of that, all of them had nearly lost you. ***Duh duh duh!!! Part three to come. Part three will probably be the final part, but I don't know. Haven't quite figured out how this is going to end yet. Though a heads up, a may fill out another request before pt. 3 is up just to give me a break from the heavy angst. Thank you all so much for supporting me! And thank you to @millenniumofpain for the request!***

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tteokdoroki · 4 years ago

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— “SHARING IS CARING + DABI/TOUYA TODOROKI.” ft. shoto todoroki.

author’s note(s): i havent written in days bc ive been working on other things but here’s this bc i am a whore. btw reader and shoto are third years/18 in this so hold onto your wigs lol.

warning(s): mdni, 18+. smut, dark content, dub-con, manipulation, cheating, choking, breath play, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyerism kinda, corruption!kink, virginity loss, degradation. characters aged up to 18. fem!reader.

touya todoroki has always been better than his brothers, at everything. praised from a young age for his powerful abilities, handsome face and charming smile— touya is the todoroki family’s prized gem. the favourite, prodigy son. the one who always gets what he wants. of course, until precious shoto todoroki arrives.

shoto, the undeniably gorgeous boy with dual chrome eyes and hair to match— an aloofness about him that draws everyone in, especially at school where he excels and wears himself at the top of his class in U.A academy. now; he’s everyone’s favourite boy, endeavour’s, his mother’s and yours. you, the sweet and innocent little girl who lives about two blocks away. the whole neighbourhood knows who you are, the apples of your cheeks stretched into a darling smile, that’s sometimes etched with an air of shyness when someone compliments you on how pretty you are.

you have doe eyes that watch shoto with such awe because you’re so impressed by what he can do, because you love how kindly he treats you and how he protects you from hungry stares belonging to others. touya finds your innocence annoying; the first time his younger brother brings you for dinner. the way you stutter over your words when speaking with rei or enji and how hide behind shoto whenever the eldest enters the room.

but you’re nice to look at, he can see why his pest of a younger sibling keeps you around. does shoto realise how far your skirt rides up over your ass whenever you bend over? how your thighs resembling pillows spill over the tops of your school socks? and how your lips are always so bitten and cherry red— everything about you is so fuckable.

and like i said, touya todoroki always gets what he wants.

“i’m better than him, aren’t i sweetness? you like the way this cock fucks you. c’mon, tell me how good i make you feel.”

touya doesn’t really need an answer, especially when it’s unlikely that he’ll get one from you. pretty little girl, sweet ass up in the air and raw from the onslaught of spanks he’d given you earlier. your cunt shines with a slickness he so proudly knows that he’s caused and your hole puckers around nothing— so eager to be filled by the eldest todoroki’s cock. “t-touya, need you. p-please...” you babble, clawing at his black linen sheets, already stained with nectar from your leaky cunny.

oh you’re so good, so nice for him when you’re fucked dumb and on the edge of frustration— you say just what he wants to hear, so eager to please that you’d beg him for days if it meant you’d get your pussy abused and used. “that’s right little girl, you need me, right? ‘cause lil sho can’t take you the way i do. you need me to show you what it’s like to feel good.”

touya lives for the way your hips jump back from just his dirty words alone, clit pushing deliciously against the tip of his length— you’re so cute when you want it. when you wanna be fucked by an older, more experienced dick. you know that touya has what shoto doesn’t. you know you can always rely on him to make you cum when shoto can’t.

any decent older brother would feel bad for taking advantage of his sibling’s girl, but touya has a point to prove. he’ll always be the better todoroki, he knows that, especially when his burning cock sinks into your tight hole— the one that welcomes him into your velvet walls, so perfectly carved into the shape of him.

a drawn out and gargled whine bubbles in the back of your throat, the stretch making your eyes roll so far back into your head touya would have thought you’d passed out, it wouldn’t have been the first time either.

oh no, he remembers the way he’d made your fleshy thighs quiver and your meek voice turn to screams when he’d taken you in the bathroom across the hall from shoto’s bedroom the first time you stayed the night. or the time that he’d cornered you in the kitchen while you made a study snack for you and your boyfriend, carelessly flipping your skirt up and creaming in your virgin cunt until all you could say were mindlessly repeats of his name. touya. his name always sounded so pretty against jumbled words that slid across your tongue.

that one time in the kitchen, touya had sent you back to shoto’s room with your pink lace panties full of his pungent seed and had listened to shoto fuck it deeper inside of you later that night when you let the younger take you for the first time. touya wonders if his little brother truly believes he was lucky enough to take your virginity or if he knows how much of a whore you are for the eldest, white haired sibling. possession flares in his chest at the very thought, making him plunge himself into the deepest parts of you while you quiver like a little bitch below him.

his piercings drag up and down your gummy walls, friction causing you to drool amongst the pillows that you drown in. touya’s large hand pushes down on the small of your back, shaping your body into an uncomfortable arch— you whimper but don’t complain. taking his dick like you should, accepting him like you should. his balls, oh so heavy with cum, slap against your cheeks while your juices paint his tummy from how much you leak and the lewd sounds fill the air so loud, there’s no doubt poor little shoto todoroki can hear it through the walls.

“sweetness, you’re so bad— sneaking off to let your boyfriend’s big brother make you scream. you’re just a slut for the todoroki dick...aren’t ya? you’d probably let nat in on it too...” touya slurs, drooling at the way your backside bounces with every slam of his hips into you.

“n-no-! no... ‘m not a slut...not a—!” you squeal pathetically, barely able to finish your sentence as touya shoves your face into the sheets harshly— deep chuckle reverberating in his chest as he presses it to your sweaty back.

you still yourself, taking all what he gives to you even if it means you can barely breathe. the eldest todoroki lifts a hand to knock on the thin walls separating him from his little brother; words coming out as breathless as he thrusts into you deeper, harder, faster— abusing your barely prepped hole. “ya’hear that sho, yur lil angel’s not as innocent as you think; she’d let all of us fuck her if we asked nicely...” the way he speaks about you is mean; it could make you cry but all you do in response is clamp down on the man above you and suck him in deeper, selfishly just like he’d taught you. he smirks with pride at how much your cunt lives for him, at how his little brother is getting the show of his life time— probably jerking off to the sounds of his girl getting railed but someone who isn’t him.

touya’s hips stutter and he cums inside you with a shout, thick ropes of his hot seed spraying against your walls and seeping between your puffy folds. ringed fingers find your clit, drawing circles into them until you tip over the edge and tumble into your own release, clamping down so hard that you draw blanks from your boyfriend’s older brother. the way you twitch after touya’s emptied himself inside you, letting him press down on the sweet bulge at your tummy so his cum leaks out— almost makes him want to brush the hair away from your face and kiss you, but he remains objective— treating you as proof that he will always be the superior sibling.

when he’s pulled out of you and helped you to shaky legs to leave— he watched the regret wash over your innocent features like it always does when he’s made a woman out of you. “tell my little brother i said; sharing is caring, sweetness.” touya asks of you oh-so-kindly, revelling in the way your bottom trembles and a fresh set of tears well in your bambi eyes.

what? he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t mean to make you cry, but that would defeat the purpose if he was telling the truth.

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phoenixyfriend · 4 years ago

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Anakin, Shmi, and the Jedi Babies

(Plus Jango)

A scene from the Anakin and the Jedi Babies

Warnings for: canon-typical discussion of slavery.

Shmi is eleven years old when the stranger comes.

He’s tall, and covered in the kind of dark clothes that are hell in the desert. He’s got some armor, too, but not as much as the Mandalorians she sees walking around sometimes. His expression is mean, even though he’s smiling, and she thinks the trader is scared of him.

He’s buying her.

“Now I just need a name for the ownership paperwork,” the trader says. She thinks he’s sweating.

“The sale is already completed, yes?” the stranger says. He tilts his head and purses his lips, still smirking. “No sudden fees coming my way?”

“Of course not, honored customer,” the trader simpers.

“Anakin Skywalker.”

Shmi’s heart stops. That’s her family name.

The trader gets a little paler, as he realizes why this man is here. Shmi watches the calculations fly, wondering if he can maybe squeeze out a few extra wupiupi on this sale. Former slaves freeing family, even family they don’t know, always fetches the highest price.

The stranger—Anakin—leans across the counter and looms over the trader, smiling in the most threatening way Shmi’s ever seen. “No sudden fees, right?”

“Well, there will be the code transfer f—”

“I’m the most dangerous person in this city,” the man says, smile dropping away like flies from a bantha. “Don’t make me prove it, friend.”

The sale is secured, the codes handed over, the detonator passing hands.

Shmi falls into step next to Anakin, hurrying to keep up with his longer strides. He takes her a few blocks away without a word, and then into a shallow spot in an alleyway, right where foot traffic won’t be a bother.

“Hey,” he says, dropping to one knee and placing himself where, even when she sets her gaze low, he’ll be there. He smiles at her, hesitant but far, far kinder than what she saw in the shop. “Do you want me to deactivate your chip now, or once we’re on my ship? I can’t remove it until we’re out of here; I’m no surgeon.”

“…now, please,” she whispers, and watches him punch in the numbers and codes to neutralize the bomb she’s carried inside herself since she was three. It’s done in less than two minutes.

“Do you want me to break this?” he asks, voice soft.

She nods, and watches in fascination as he crushes it in his fist with seemingly no effort.

He smiles at her, tosses the shards into the nearest compactor, and then offers her the hand that isn’t in a glove. She takes it, like she used to take her mom’s before they were separated, and follows him through Mos Pelgo. He’s family. He’s cleanly, clearly freed her. She should be able to trust him.

“Where are we going?” she manages to work up the courage to ask.

His stride stutters a bit, his hand squeezing hers, but his voice is even when he speaks. “Well, I would like you to stay with me, but if you have… have any family to return to, that you know how to find…”

“I don’t know where my mom is,” she says. “She got sold when I was four.”

He squeezes her hand again, and she dares to look at his face. His eyes are squinted, angry, and focused on the horizon. She’d call it stormy, if she’d ever been to a planet of water, but she was a child of the desert. She could feel his anger, and it wasn’t hot and sharp and blinding enough to be a storm of sand.

(She felt that it could be, in the intuition that had kept her alive these past years.)

“I see,” he says. “I’m… okay, then. I’d try to find her if I could, but I don’t know how to do that.”

Shmi shrugs. “She was sent to Jabba’s. I don’t think she’s… um. She’s probably dead, now.”

He’s silent in response to that.

“How did you find me?” she asks, because her intuition says to trust this man to keep her alive, even if she thinks she may not trust his temper.

He thinks about that for a second, and then lets go of her hand for a moment to brush aside a layer of his tunic.

A lightsaber.

Her eyes dart up to his, wide and maybe a little awed. He grins, a little more carefree than before.

“Jeedai?”

“A full Jedi knight, believe it or not,” he confirms. “The Force led me to find you. I don’t think I’d have been able to do locate you without it.”

“Wizard,” she whispers, and then he pulls her into his side and out of the way of a large, too-fast-for-these-streets speeder.

He swears under his breath in a language she doesn’t recognize.

“So, I’m going with you,” she says. “Um, where… where do Jedi live?”

“The Temple is on Coruscant,” he tells her. “But I’ve got business in Mandalorian space, so that’s where I’m based out of right now.”

“Okay,” she says. Mandalore… maybe that’s why he’s got armor like one of them. “I… I heard that Jedi are all called Master, so—”

“No,” Anakin snaps, turning around and getting to one knee in front of her again, hands on both her shoulders, stopping her in a fraction of a second with a look so intense that it scares her. “No, you are never to call me that. You are never going to bow your head to a master again, okay? You are free, and you are family.”

She stares at him for a long second, and then nods. She thinks her head jerks a bit too sharply, but he’s scary. He cares so much that it frightens her. He must be able to tell, because he closes his eyes and visibly forces himself to calm down.

“I was freed when I was nine,” he tells her. “By a Jedi Master. And I know… I know how uncomfortable it is to live like that, where the word means something different to you than it does to everyone else. I became a Jedi, so I learned to make it mean what it was supposed to, respect for teachers and—and elders. But you, you’re not a Jedi, you’re just a girl, and you matter, and—don’t make yourself say it. Please.”

“Okay,” she says. “Do I just… do I just call you Anakin, then?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” he says, and his hands twitch on her shoulders. She thinks he wants to pull her into a hug, but is forcing himself to stop. “Or Ani, if you want, my—my mom used to call me that. Seems like something to keep for family.”

“Okay,” she says again. She can do that.

“Or, um,” he hesitates, and then barrels on. “We’ll be in Mandalore. They say ori’vod to mean older sibling. So, er, you can call me that. If you want. You don’t have to.”

She’ll have to practice. It looks like it means a lot to him. “I’ll think about it.”

“Great,” he says, and dithers for a moment before he stands up and turns around, black robes flaring. “Come on, let’s get out of the sun.”

He leads her to just outside the city limits, where there’s a small ship waiting, enough for a half-dozen people on longer trips, maybe. She doesn’t know much about ships, but this one’s covered in scratches and pits, like it’s been in fights and come out the other side.

They open the door, and are met with wailing.

Anakin rushes past her, shouting, “Ben!”

Shmi doesn’t follow immediately, but he’s been pretty insistent that she’s family, not property. She’s allowed inside.

She finds Anakin in the main room, holding a baby and bouncing it in his arms as he hisses a demand to a boy only a few years older than Shmi herself.

“—my kids, Jango!”

“I’m here to babysit the ship, not the baby!” the teenager argues back.

Anakin scoffs and turns his attention to the baby in his arms. Shmi isn’t entirely sure, but she thinks the baby is definitely less than a year old. It quiets in his arms, tiny hands fisting in the fabric she knows is still too hot from the sun outside.

“Shmi, you can sit down,” he tells her, distracted. “I’d love to talk more but I think I need to make a bottle for Ben. I’ll be back in a few.”

She looks around, sees a bench, and sits down. She presses her hands together in her lap, keeps her eyes on the japor charm her mother left with her years ago, hanging around her wrist. She can wait. She’s patient. She’ll figure out how freedom works eventually.

“Mmmmmmbook!”

Shmi jolts in her seat as a very small body collides with her leg, blue and white and giggling. The head of that small body turns up to stare at her with massive eyes, and she sees the child’s face is orange. Togruta, she thinks, and very young.

The little one pushes a flimsi book onto Shmi’s lap and pats at it, grinning up at Shmi with tiny, pearly teeth.

“Ad’ika, she just got here,” the-teenager-that-is-probably-named-Jango sighs, dropping into the seat next to Shmi. “Let her rest.”

“Sto-wee!” the baby Togruta insists, patting at Shmi’s leg. The little one tries to climb up onto the bench, and Shmi reaches out to help after she realizes the toddler is about to slip. She receives, in thanks, a delighted grin and a montral to the ribs as the child hugs her.

“’m Soka!” the little one introduces.

“She’s one of Skywalker’s,” probably-Jango says. “He showed up with those two a few months ago in the middle of a chaak’la snowstorm.”

“No!” Soka insists, slapping her little hand on the book a few times. “No ‘ssip! Book!”

Jango lets his head fall against the metal wall behind them. “Fine. No gossip.”

Shmi looks at the little girl, and then back at the book. She’s… well, she can read. Mostly. She can read better than most slaves her age, but this is Basic, not Huttese.

She cracks it open to the first page, finds herself relieved that it really is a children’s story with small words and big letters, and starts reading it out loud. She goes slow. The story is about an eopie trying to find its way home after getting lost, asking other farm animals for help. There are plenty of pictures, and sometimes Soka pats at the book and shouts the name of an animal. It’s very cute, overall.

About two-thirds of the way through, she stumbles. It’s a word she hasn’t seen before, long and with repeating letters that she can’t quite figure out how to say. She pauses, long enough that she’s sure little Soka is confused about why she’s stopped.

“Happabore,” Jango mutters.

Shmi lifts her head, but he’s not looking at her. She looks down at the book again, mouths the letters to herself, and thinks that yes, that probably fits. She keeps reading aloud, letting little Soka tell her about her favorite animals, and when she finishes and looks up, it’s to find Anakin standing across from them.

He’s leaning against a doorframe, bottle-feeding the baby named Ben, and watching them with an expression Shmi thinks might be ‘wistful.’

“Skyguy!” Little Soka cheers, sliding off the bench so she can toddle over to the man as fast as her little legs can carry her. “Skyguy, gots a fweind!”

He smiles indulgently and lets her hug his leg. “I can see that, Snips. You guys have fun?”

“Uh-huh!” the little one tells him. She raises her hands at him. “Up!”

“Sorry, hun, no can do,” Anakin apologizes. “I’m feeding Ben, and I need both hands for that.”

She pouts, and he jerks his chin at Shmi and Jango. “Go back to the bench and you can help me feed him, okay?”

Soka races back.

“Fett, go get the ship powered up,” Anakin says as he ambles over, voice the kind of casually commanding that gives Shmi goosebumps. It’s not familiar, not the way an owner is, but it’s… it’s a voice that’s very used to having authority. “I want us out of here as soon as possible.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“I am the commanding officer according to Jaster,” Anakin says, and Shmi watches him raise an eyebrow. “I know it’s not much of a mission, but I am in charge until we’re back on Concord Dawn. You want me to tell him you’re playing at insubordination?”

Jango makes a face, sticking out his tongue. Anakin waits.

Jango goes to start the ship.

“Teenagers,” Anakin mutters, shaking his head. “I want to say I was never that bad, but I’d be lying.”

Soka giggles, bouncing in her seat as Anakin carefully lowers himself down next to her. “Okay, okay, settle down. He’s cranky, kiddo.”

“Wanna help,” Soka stresses, reaching for the bottle. Anakin shifts away from her, keeping it out of her reach. “Skyguy!”

“Slow down, Snips,” he chides. “Climb on my lap and we can hold him together, okay?”

Shmi fiddles with her japor snippet, but she can’t help her fascination with the dynamic presented. Anakin obviously isn’t related to Soka by blood, but he’s adopted her as his own. They haven’t said as much, but it’s obvious. He can’t stop smiling as he talks the girl through holding the bottle for her baby brother, even though it’s obvious from the outside that he’s the one actually holding it, and her, and the baby.

The ship hums to life around them. Anakin tilts his head, as if listening to something, and then goes back to the baby.

It’s another minute before Anakin says, “Okay, that’s enough. I need to burp him. Go on, scoot.”

Soka grimaces as well as a two-year-old can, and slides off of Anakin’s lap onto the bench. He stands and presses the baby up to his shoulder, patting it on the back. There’s a towel there already, something Shmi hadn’t noticed earlier.

“I’m going to go check on Jango,” he tells them. “Shmi, can you get Soka in her seat? I’ll tell you how to buckle her in, but I promised Jango he could fly us back and I want to sit up there to make sure he gets us into hyperspace without, say, exploding.”

It’s only a minute or two to get both of them sat down and buckled in, and Soka spends the entire time until lift-off telling Shmi about how much she likes eopies. This continues well until they end up in hyperspace, the jolt of it making the little one squeal in excitement, even if Shmi feels her stomach drop out. Shortly after, the boys wander back in.

“We’re good for a couple hours,” Anakin says. “Nav computer’s got it until we jump back out. Anyone want a snack?”

“Me!” Soka screeches, bouncing in her seat. “Jan-Jan, snacktime!”

Anakin’s eyebrows climb up towards his hairline. “Well, seems like you’ve got a fan, Fett.”

“Shut up,” Jango grumbles, but he does go over and pick Soka out of her child seat, setting her on his hip and going in the direction of what Shmi assumes is the galley.

“You doin’ okay?” Anakin asks, carefully taking the seat next to her. He sits Ben up on his lap, but the baby has trouble staying in that position. Anakin takes his hands, letting tiny fists curl around his thumbs, to help him stay up.

“It’s a lot,” she says. “But I am happy to be free.”

He grins at her. “Glad to hear it. It’s a lot to adjust to, I know, but… I’m happy to have you with us.”

She nods, eyes on the baby that’s swaying from side to side as Anakin moves his hands, like a very, very small speeder pilot.

“Is he, um, yours?” Shmi asks. “Or did you adopt, like Soka?”

Anakin’s smile, so full of love, drops off. He presses his lips into a thin line, and for a moment, Shmi wonders if she’s made a horrible misstep.

“What… what do you know about Jedi relationships?” Anakin asks, voice quiet.

“Nothing,” she admits, but she’s not ashamed of that. Nobody knows much about the Jedi.

“Okay,” he says, more to himself than to her. “Okay, so… okay. There are a couple ranks in the Order. Younglings go in the crèche, communally raised in groups, and then when they’re five or so, they get to become Initiates. A few years later, usually between ten and fourteen, they can enter an apprenticeship to a Jedi Knight or Master, and the apprentice rank is Padawan. When the apprenticeship is done, they become Knights, basically journeymen, and at some point after that, Masters. There are positions that technically rank higher, councils and heads of divisions, and there’s stuff outside the apprenticeship system, like the service corps, but that’s not super relevant. It’s complicated but we’re only focusing on the apprenticeship path for knights.”

He hesitates, and then continues. “One of the ways to become a Master in the Order is to successfully raise a Padawan to knighthood. I was never an Initiate, because I came to the Order so much later than most. I immediately became a Padawan, and my master was freshly knighted. The relationship between master and padawan is… it’s family. Some of the more orthodox of the Order don’t like to put it in those words, but it really is.

“If I ever talk about my Master, just know I’m not talking about any of the owners I had before I was freed. I’m talking about the man who raised me, the man I saw as a father. He may not have seen me as a son, more a brother, but he was only sixteen years older than me, and… anyway. Jedi lineages are family. Your Master is a parent, or an older sibling, and your Padawan is a child to bring up as your own,” he finishes this off with the kind of deep, heavy breath that she thinks precedes grief. She can’t tell.

“My master is… well, he’s not in a position to teach anyone anything anymore. Ben here is all I have left of him.”

Oh.

Anakin doesn’t look at her, just stares down at the baby that’s gotten cranky again, and rearranges Ben to lie sideways in his arms. He smiles down as the baby burbles up at him, and tickles at the baby’s stomach. Ben grabs at Anakin’s fingers and kicks at the air, laughing in the manner of all children that small.

The man hums, and Shmi is more shocked than she should be to hear one of the lullabies she’s heard in slave quarters all her life.

“He’s your son now,” she says, more firmly than she feels. “He is yours to raise and care for, and I can tell you love him as much as any parent.”

Anakin lifts his head, staring at her like he can’t quite believe she’s there, and tears collect at the edges of his eyes.

“Thank you, Shmi Skywalker,” he says, and she feels like there’s more weight in those words than there should be. He licks his lips, eyes darting away for a second, and then asks, “do you want to hold him?”

She steels herself, and nods.

This is her family now.

Hers.

#Shmi Skywalker #Anakin Skywalker #Obi Wan Kenobi #Ahsoka Tano #Jango Fett #star wars #time travel #de aging #parenting #childcare #baby characters #phoenix posts #Anakin and the Jedi Babies #outside pov

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tomurasprincess · 4 years ago

Note

Here’s a denki idea with incest and streamer denki for that anon that was asking about denki earlier and they get more fucked up as they go :)

(Tw incest Tw dub con... kinda? Tw non con) don’t worry Denki anon I got you, but hear me out. Denki is a live streamer that only shows his face once and a while, one day he “convinces” (basically passive aggressively threats and gaslights sister reader that they need to have sex with him to prove that “they aren’t a slut and they are still pure”, after sister reader refuses again. Denki forcefully bends them over the desk and tells them to cum around his cock or he will turn on the stream with the camera on so everyone can see how big of a slut his sister is.

(Ending one: consent is kinda given but it’s after he already pushes in so imma say dubcon) He’s surprised to find his sister trying to get him to speed up before she rubs against him and smirks at him with a small grind on his cock and a “get on with it then”

(Ending two: no consent, non consensual recording) Denki forces sister reader down onto the desk before slowly pushing in and out, wanting them to feel the drag from his cock before commanding them to say “I only want nii -san’s cock! I’m only a slut for nii-San!” After he fucks them for a while, talking about how much better their pussy and moans are rather than his hand and porn, he finishes. He cleans up sister reader before laying them to sleep, secretly saving the video he took of him fucking them for himself and blackmail

(Ending three: no consent, non consensual recording, non consensual somno, he broadcasts this bitch) pretty much the same as number two but turns out he has a seperate streaming account all for videotaping sister reader asleep as he eats them out or fucks them on his fingers all recorded and broadcasted. He turns on the camera with his face hidden but his sisters not, and fucks his sister as people flood in to watch as she takes his dick. Every time she tries to fight back or get him to stop he shocks her leg and goes harder to prove that she’s his and every time he shocks her he says something like “you must be enjoying it with how much you’re clenching down on me” . He ends the stream after finishing and finds his sister passed out, but not without smirking to himself and saying “tune in to the stream tomorrow and we’ll see if this slut can take dick in her tight little ass as good as she can take it in her pussy.”

Sorry for rambling but I just needed to share this or I was gonna go crazy

Warnings: Noncon, incest, forced orgasms, non consensual filming, degradation, electric shocks, mentions of somno, yandere Notes: Dark!Denki is my favorite kind of Denki, so I went with option number 3.

"I've got a surprise for you, sis," your brother says happily, grinning at you with that goofy smile like he used to. He had been changing so much lately, and not for the better. Much colder, much less likely to take on hero jobs. To your shock, he even said once that heroes were worthless, that the villains would end up winning. It wasn't like his usual self, and you're happy to see him acting closer to how he used to.

"What kind of surprise?" "Come into my room and I'll show you." He walks away, leaving you to trail behind him like you've always done since you were kids. You always looked up to your brother, always wanted to be close to him. And he was the same way. Everyone thought you were too close for siblings, but you disagreed. You wouldn't want it any other way.

Finally, he leads you into his room where there's a camera set up on a tripod and pillows and blankets arranged on the floor in front. You give him a surprised look, feeling uneasy for the first time. "Come on, this will be so much fun." He chuckles at you, pushing you roughly towards the center of the room. You're forced to the floor, face down and ass up in the air before you know it. "What the hell is this about, Denki-nii???" You snap at him, trying to get up again but finding your arm twisted behind your back painfully. "That hurts!" "I know you guys were tired of watching my toy with my sister while she's drugged up and asleep!" He chirps out, grinding himself against your backside. "So I thought we'd have a super special stream today!"

"While I'm asleep? I don't - I don't understand," you whisper, sounding far more childish than you intended. You think briefly to the times you woke up and your pussy was soaked, feeling sore and stretched out. You dismissed it as nothing despite the nagging doubt in the back of your mind. Sometimes you thought you remembered a presence hovering over you - but surely it was just a dream - "You really are a naive little bitch," your brother mocks you. "Can't believe you never realized what your dear older brother was doing to you." He leans in closer to whisper in your ear. "Or maybe you did know and you liked it - " "Please stop," you whimper at him, "I don't want this, please - " You hear the ripping of clothes as your skirt is torn away, revealing a lack of underwear. "My sister doesn't even wear panties? What a little slut. I think you do want this." You feel something hot and hard prodding at your clit, and you let out another whimper as you try to squirm away. But an electric current runs through your body, and your muscles tighten up as you gasp. "Stay still, sis," Denki laughs at you. "You don't want me to keep doing that, do you?" You begin to weep, not understanding what caused your brother to change so much. Why he's being so cruel to you. But you don't have long to wonder before he's pushing inside of you, stretching your muscles out and taking your virginity cruelly. You only cry harder at the pain. "Fuck, my little sister's cunt is so fucking tight. Were you a virgin, sis?" You say nothing, shaking and shivering as his hips snap forward to bury himself entirely into his little sister's tight cunt. "Answer me," he growls, and an electric shock runs through your body. You scream this time, clenching around his cock involuntarily. "Yes! Yes I was!" You manage to choke out through the convulsions, and he stops his quirk.

His hips begin to move, balls smacking against your clit with every thrust. It causes unwanted pleasure to build up in you, muscles of your lower stomach tightening. "Please - Denki-nii, please stop -"

"Fuck," he groans out, "keep calling me that, it turns me on."

Your words fail you, and you keep your mouth shut until another electric current runs through your body. This one is so strong that you can barely breathe through it, the pain extreme. You want to refuse, want to do anything but what he wants, but you also want the pain to stop.

"Denki-nii, Denki-nii!" And still, despite the pain, you feel yourself begin to cum around your brother's cock. "Little slut," he giggles a bit, "cumming around your brother's cock like that. You've wanted your Denki-nii for a while, haven't you?" "Yes!" You scream, feeling a sense of relief as he deactivates his quirk. "Yes I want my Denki-nii's cock!" Tears stream openly from your face as he tangles a hand in your hair, forcing your back to arch and stare into the camera. "My little sis here is squeezing my cock so damned well. Her cunt feels fucking amazing." You let out a choked sob as you cum again, almost painful in its intensity as your cunt pulses around your brother's cock. He finds his own end inside of you, pace stuttering as he fills his baby sister full of hot cum. You can't keep your eyes awake anymore. They flutter closed and stay closed as you finally lose consciousness. "Oops," he chuckles, "I may have been a bit too rough. Ah well, hope you like the show. Stay tuned while I wait for her to wake up so I can fuck this tight little asshole!"

#mari thirsts #denki thirst #tw: noncon #tw:incest #tw: somno #anon asks

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cheelduh · 3 years ago

Text

How to Not Kill a Ginger (High School Au!)

Part 5 to the series hehehe

Parts: 1 2 3 4

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Synopsis: Childe’s stomach stirs when you take care of him, and he’s not sure if it’s because of his major crush on you or just plain old diarrhea.

Warnings: Swearing. Graphic descriptions involving the true idiocy of teenage boys.

Words: Abt 2.6k

Note: Sorry I sort of half assed this. I have big ideas for the next part tho ✨😮‍💨

If there's one thing you're sure of, it's that Teucer knows how to throw one hell of a tantrum.

Him and his brother, Anthon, under your watch, manage to get into a petty squabble that's been airing for the last fifteen minutes. You've done everything, from offering candy to promising an extra hour on the switch, but your efforts do not bear fruit.

What did you tell Childe again? Oh yeah, that babysitting kids was a breeze. Apparently it's not a breeze. Maybe something more like a shart. A chunky, messy one at that.

"Listen dude," You reason to Anthon, the oldest of the bunch gently. "Where did you hide his toy?"

Anthon sticks a tongue out at you, and you nearly cry at the intensity of the insult. "Not telling."

Your patience runs thin.

"C'mon Anthon," Tonia lectures from her chair on the table like the godsend she is. "Just give him his toy back. You're being so annoying." She's taking the words right out of your mouth.

"Not until he apologizes!" Anthon crosses his arms, huffing. "He ate my cheese string!"

"There are more cheese strings!" You exclaim, opening the fridge to prove your point. "I'm sure Teucer's sorry for taking yours. Just pick another one."

"But it's not the same! He took the last cheddar and mozzarella one, now there are only mozzarella ones left." He speaks in between Teucer's wails. You wonder if this is a daily occurrence.

Tonia sighs, gets up from her chair, and hands the eldest her cheese string. "Just take this and give him his toy back."

Almost immediately, Anthon reaches a hand behind the tv table and pulls out the miniature Mr. Cyclops, then throws it point blank at Teucer's feet.

Teucer wails louder.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, shoulders sagging under the stress of being a temporary teenage mother.

Then you take a deep breathe, voice booming over Teucer's cries, Anthon's grumbling, and the clicking of Tonia's tongue. "Let's make a cake!"

Everything in the room stills. Even Teucer's loud cries comes to a halt, and he inhales so sharply that the streak of snot over his lip goes right back into its origin.

You wince inadvertently.

"Poggers!" Anthon cheers, and his siblings join in, laughing and clapping in excitement.

Tonia's eyes widen in confusion when she briefly pauses from her rally. "Wait a minute. What are we celebrating? We can't bake a cake for no reason! It won't taste nearly as good."

Everyone stops to ponder.

Then you snap your fingers in realization, and the kids huddle around you. "How about a 'get well better' cake for your big brother?"

They erupt in cheers again, but you shush them gently, wink an eye for extra measure. "We have to be quiet! He won't get better if we wake him."

The three nod in understanding and begin shushing each other, failing to conceal their giggles.

As you watch them making their way into the kitchen, bounce in their steps, you can't stop the warm smile that reaches your eyes.

That smile soon becomes a frown of horror when Anthon cracks an egg over Tonia's head.

The cake is not half as bad as you thought it would be initially. Between mixing the ingredients and ceasing the kids minus Tonia from being menaces to society, you were able to find middle ground.

Eventually Anthon found interest in finding ways to lick the batter whenever you turned around, and Teucer found comfort in your left leg, latching onto it as if it were a life line.

Just like how Venti latches onto his stupid little bottle of wine disguised as a water bottle. Seriously, you’ve never talked to him sober, and at this point are afraid of what’s he’s like lucid.

Tonia had been the only one taking things seriously for the most part, except for the sprinkles-to-icing ratio. She drowned the entire cake in sprinkles, the mere sight adding on the ghost of an ache in your teeth.

It looks like twilight sparkles took a fat dump on it.

"Okay besties," You inwardly curse yourself for giving into Gen-Z vocabulary as you brush your hands on the apron. "I think we've done a pretty decent job."

"It looks so pretty!" Tonia grins widely, eyeing the edible pearls she strategically placed. She quickly strikes down a finger Anthon tried to poke into the icing, with the accuracy of a true warrior.

You shudder at the thought of Childe teaching her how to stab someone with safety scissors.

"Can we add candles?" Teucer asks, but Tonia clicks her tongue in distaste.

"It's not a birthday cake." She crosses her arms judgementally. The power in her glare reminds you of La Signora, strangely enough.

You ruffle his copper coloured locks anyways, and his grip on your thigh tightens. "We can add candles if you want Teucer."

He nods his head and snuggles deeper into the side of your leg. Your heart warms up considerably.

After the candles are poked in, you try to shrug him off. "C'mon dude, just for five minutes. You don't want me to drop the cake before your brother can get a bite do you?"

Reluctantly, he obliges, and runs off to help Tonia collect utensils to take up to Childe's room.

Anthon's on door duty, kicking away any toys that serve as obstacles in your way like a professional soccer player.

Once you four make it up the stairs in front of the designated room, Anthon doesn't bother knocking. He barges in like he owns the place, chin up high and a signature smirk on his face that he probably learnt from his older brother.

Childe fumbles awake, kicking the air whilst in shock by the chaotic sound of the door hitting the wall and Teucer screaming "Happy Birthday!" at the top of his miniature sized lungs as he runs in to plop right on top of his older brother.

His bewildered expression soon turns into something of a loving smile as he begins to process what is happening, eyes lighting up despite the deep bags that frame them.

Tonia places the plates on his side table, right next to the empty soup bowl you placed there earlier. She climbs up onto the bed as well to join in on the hug.

Anthon approaches at last, hands in his pockets as he coolly acknowledges his older brother. Instead of a bone-crushing hug like the other two are indulging in, his opts for a fist bump that Childe happily reciprocates.

Then finally, between the shield that are his siblings, his cerulean eyes land on your near the doorway, then trail down to the cake in your oven-mittened hands. He averts his gaze back to your own, and grins so wide his cheeks start to throb.

"Big brother! We made you cake." Teucer moves his head from his chest to face him. "So you can get better."

Childe's laughs ring in your ears, but you don't shy away from the sound. It's a pleasant, something that you wish to hear more of in the near future. Sure enough he laughs a lot at school, but the genuineness of it at home, surrounded by his siblings, stirs something deep within you.

"How thoughtful of you." He ruffles his hair, then his eyes widen as he ushers the two off of him. "You guys can't be near me! I don't want you to fall ill as well."

"But-but how will we feed you the cake without getting close to you?" Tonia frowns, and her two brothers nod in unison.

You chuckle lightly, approaching the bed with the cake in your hands. "I'm sure he has enough strength to feed himself. The hugs and kisses surely must've energized him."

To be honest, Childe's all green in the face and the last thing on his mind would be to indulge in the cake. You understand the feeling all to well. With his nose clogged up, throat all sore, there's no way he'll stomach it. It took a lot of nagging on your part to get him to finish the soup earlier as well.

He blows the candles anyways, clapping along his siblings and letting Tonia drop a fat chunk of the golden cake onto his plate. You find it endearing, regrettably so. His dedication to keeping their dreams is admirable in more ways than you can count.

This is the same guy that wears meme shirts to school, topped off with douchey sunglasses to give him a pristine vibe. The same guy that punches holes in walls like a Kyle. The very boy that flexes his toned biceps in-front of you during lunch time, successfully ruining your appetite.

"Wait a minute..." Childe inspects the cake closely, narrowing in on the candles. "Why is there an eleven?"

Teucer scratches his neck sheepishly. "Those were the only candles we had left."

After another short-lived laugh, Childe manages a bite as everyone stares in expectation, the sound of a tight crunch enveloping the room, making you grimace in secret. If Childe feels like puking out his guts right now, he's doing a hell of a job hiding it from his darling siblings.

You're glad nobody forces you to take a bite, or it would've been a double homicide right then and there.

Soon enough, one by one the children file out of the room, satisfied with their visit. The reality is that they don't want to miss an episode of backyardigans.

Once they leave, you approach him with a napkin. He gets the gist, spitting out the remnants of the cake you slaved over for about two hours.

"Colour me impressed." You snort, moving the cake aside so you can take a seat on the open space next to him. "How're you feeling?"

"Amazing." He exclaims, eyes red like a crackhead's, nose runny, with goosebumps kissing his pale skin. He sure does look...amazing.

"Cool." You say, abruptly getting up. "I'm gonna vibe with the kid—"

His hand shoots out from underneath the blanket, clammy palms wrapping around your wrist to keep you locked in place. You gulp in anticipation.

"You kissed me." Childe reminds you, eyes twinkling in mischief, a vicious grin plastered over his stupidly handsome face.

You try not to choke on your words. "You have circumstantial evidence at most." No attempts are utilized to pull away from him.

He raises a teasing brow, and you give in because the tension is thick. Thicker than the tension between Albedo and Kaeya when the latter shamelessly unzips his front to show more of his biddies. You have no idea why he hasn’t been dress coded yet.

"Fine." You snap out of your impure thoughts, and huff out, frustrated all over. "I kissed you on the cheek."

"Still a kiss though."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes. Also, cute nails." He points out, hand moving down to grasp your fingers. The act is intimate, his caress gentle and caring. Despite his brash, violent personality, he shows you a completely different side to him that hatches butterflies in your stomach.

"Thanks." You show off the bright jewels on your index. "You have a real nail technician in the house."

Tonia has some serious talent.

When he taps one of the jewels, you slap his hand away. "Careful there dude. These cost me a fortune."

His chuckles die down and he smiles again, but this time apologetically. "They didn't trouble you too much did they? I know they can be loud."

"I like loud." You answer him truthfully. "They're fun to be around. Not nearly as chaotic as you."

He blinks in mock offence, eyes narrowing shrewdly. "You come into my house, talk to my siblings, and have the nerve to insult me? Right after taking advantage of me?"

"If you don't shut up, I'll also have the nerve to rip you a new one." You reply dryly with the innocent curl of your lips.

"Bet."

You're about to lunge at him and scream a string of obscenities that no one has ever heard of before, but the Archons are listening and you don't want his siblings to grow up without someone to look up to. Wait a minute—scratch that. You'd be doing them a favour if you wiped his existence right here and now.

You have a fragile heart though. So you sigh, and grab a fistful of sheets in both hands instead.

Childe's grin turns into a petrified scowl.

"Oh no," He pleads, weakly fighting you back. "Have mercy! Please!"

You have loads of mercy. Just not enough for him.

When you have him wrapped in a successful bundle, Childe can’t help but beam, laying limp in his confines.

“What are you smiling about?” You inquire, pulling out the medicine from his box, pausing momentarily in shock. “Wait a minute, don’t tell me you’re into these things you freak.” Head snaps up so fast you nearly suffer from whiplash.

He’s about to answer you but his words turn into a fit of shallow coughs.

“I’m into whatever you’re into.” Childe’s shrug is nonchalant. “Even if that means I have to be tied up. Kinky by the way.” He winks, and you roll your eyes, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as you hold the spoon up. The dark reddish medicine swirls in deep hues.

“Shut up and open your mouth.”

“Girlie, I don’t think you understand how contradicting that statement is.”

You momentarily wonder if it’s too late to abort yourself.

—

Childe awakens at the crack ass of night, sweat slick, sticky all over, tousled hair sticking to his forehead. He’s a panting mess, eyes darting around the dark room, inhaling, exhaling, mind in a haze from the fever. Gaining somewhat of a grip on reality, he fumbles around to turn on his lamp, throat parched and in need of water.

When he manages to find the switch, he recoils at the brightness, adjusting to the sudden change in his vision. On his side table, there’s a bologna sandwich tucked safely in plastic wrap, a glass of room temperature water, and a bottle of painkillers.

His eyes disregard most of the things, finding interest in the bright pink sticky note next to the painkillers. Unable to ignore the dryness of his throat and the pounding of his head, he quickly gulps a pill down with most of the water, instantly feeling the relief of hydration.

Then, he pounces on the note, giddiness overtaking him despite the pang in his muscles, and the general feeling of absolute shit.

I had to leave. Don’t worry about your siblings, they’re all tucked in and fine. Except for Anthon maybe. Apparently he’s mildly lactose intolerant and thought it was a good idea to overdose on chocolate milk when I was busy with Teucer. Anyways, get better soon stupid.

— Y/N

He safely tucks the note under his pillow, edges of his lips turned upwards, warmth flooding his veins when he takes another look around his surroundings.

The room itself is cleaned, floor cleared from the initial clutter and the cool shiny collector’s knives he buys off of Amazon safely hung over the wall, not littered on his desk like they usually are.

The homework he was supposed do, but most likely wouldn’t, is already completed, stacked neatly atop each other.

Childe swears his heart bursts in his chest, exploding into tiny particles that overheat his entire body.

There’s no way in hell a few days worth of homework is gonna bring his failing mark up, but then again it’s the thought that counts.

While the sandwich is catered to his nausea, bland and plain for easy digestion, an easy fill, it’s the best meal he’s ever had in his life.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshot #childe #childe x reader #fanfic #genshin oneshot #genshin tartagalia #kaeya alberich #tartagila #venti genshin impact #albedo #teucer #genshin archon #tartagalia x reader #tartagalia genshin impact

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roonilwazlibimagines · 3 years ago

Note

What are some of your scenarios to fall asleep to? 👀

Ahhhh I’m glad you asked !! Also please feel free to share some of yours they can be specific or vague idc I’m in desperate need

I will be going into heavy detail because I can’t help myself I’m sorry and I will put in both normal ones and Harry Potter ones

Also this is just like one big ramble I’m sorry I got too excited I literally turned into that Tik tok sound where it’s like ‘you’re asking me about my theories? I’ve waited years for someone to ask me about my theories’

Update - I think I’m just going to keep updating this as well when I think of new ones because I keep forgetting some

My most recent one is a royalty one where they’re like royalty but in their really prestigious and royal school they were academic rivals and did not get along and after school they like try to go their separate ways until a couple years later their parents force them into an arranged marriage for like the good of the country or whatever I don’t really care!! You can take it wherever you want from there but in case you were interested in mine he fell for her first and kinda gave up on the enemies thing pretty early on but she still made it clear he wasn’t her favourite person and she despised the situation and there is still constant teasing until she meets his sister or friend or whoever who says that they can’t believe how happy he is with them and she feels so bad because she thinks he deserves better and ends up being much meaner to him because she’s an idiot who can’t express her emotions and he gets angry at her because she’s being super mean after they were just starting to get along and they have a big argument and are forced to talk about their feelings and then I can never decide whether they actually like each other when they get married, I feel like either way is fun

I have a thing for royalty so my other one is literally just princess x stable boy and you can honestly take that wherever you want but I will tell you where I took it for some ✨inspiration✨ so I don’t have my drivers license and get really bad driving anxiety so I self projected and made her terrified of riding horses right (I’m so smart I know) and he is like trying to help her ride the horse and feel comfortable and like obviously they end up in love but I created drama because she sneaks out to his birthday party (!!) but his friends don’t like her because they just think she’ll be a snob but he obviously defends her but like it’s a perfect opportunity for a bit of an innocent princess as well

My personal favourite is the two co stars falling in love and like thinking about doing all those stupid interviews from like buzzfeed and all that and I personally love the trying foods from different places thing (like making them try fairy bread - because I’m from Australia and we aren’t that cultured and being mad when they don’t like it because it is my favourite food) and it’s great because i can make the guy any actor I am currently obsessed with 😭 but also like the red carpet opportunities and interviews and fan reactions and it’s very fun also this keeps my brain very busy because I like making it as realistic as possible and figuring out the actors timeline so I can match the story up with it, it’s always really intense, also if you want inspiration for what moving they’re staring in I always go for the live action version of tangled even if I don’t look anything like rapunzel

Another fun one is where one of them is in a band and you have a friend who is dating one of the other members but you don’t like the band and you’re not shy in letting the other members know that and it turns into an enemies to lovers thing but I haven’t really developed it because halfway through I ended up changing it with the fact that they befriend one of the members and like fall for them but the band member like ‘gets around’ and it makes them jealous until they drunkingly confess it made them jealous this one’s a bit of a mess and is tipping into a 2012 wattpad story but it was how I got back into my 5sos phase two years ago because I felt icky about them but I’m still a slut for Calum 😭

Another one I love is moving abroad to study or whatever (idk I just always need a reason to be in America/Uk because there’s no one here in australia) and you make friends with someone who turns out to be related to someone really famous (insert whoever you want) and you meet them and you think they’re the hottest person you’ve ever seen and you get drunk to gain confidence to talk to them and you’re like unashamedly flirting with them and they think it’s cute and you’re funny but the whole little plot twist is that you don’t know they’re famous (famous people love that, trust me, I have about 10 wattpad stories in my library that can prove this) !! And the don’t believe you don’t know they’re famous !! Anyways I took it in a sugar daddy direction but each to their own!

Specifically for Harry Potter though, you ask?

Currently I am obsessed with Regulus Black and for about the past two weeks I’ve been obsessed with the idea of James potter sibling x regulus black enemies to lovers story and then about a week ago I found an actually good wattpad story about it?!?! (I have recommended it here with warnings but I really encourage you to read it if you’re not a minor) but you can also do your own version because I am still doing my own version and will continue to do my own version tonight even if I am obsessed with the wattpad one !! Currently I am up to post Hogwarts and her and regulus are trying to defeat Voldemort and regulus tells her that Peter is going to betray James and so ofc she tells James but James is like ‘how to do you even know this??’ And he is so afraid and gets angry at her and it’s really dramatic and she tells him she’s dating regulus and then he gets super mad at her because she’s dating like one of the most well known and loyal death eaters (even if regulus is sneakily trying to destroy Voldemort) and because he didn’t tell her and it’s very dramatic

My favourite Sirius black idea is also a James potters sibling one, but I never have any good ideas for it and just end up self projecting so if anyone has any ideas, I am begging you, please tell me !!!

My other Sirius black one is one I’ve been working on for like the last 4 years of my life and I probably should write it but who knows, but basically it’s a 10 things I hate about you x Harry Potter story where reader is about a year or so older than the marauders and she is like Kat Stratford (for people who haven’t watched it the best way to describe her is just an angry early 2000s feminist who is like anti dating and fun (kinda)) but she is Lily Evans sister!! And so Lily gets fed up of James constantly asking her out and makes an offhand comment that she’ll date him when her sister goes on a date with someone and James is like really?!? And Lily is like ‘sure’ because she knows her sister will never date anyone at Hogwarts so James tells the marauders and Remus is like ‘if anyone can take her on a date, it’s Sirius’ and Sirius is like ‘no, I’m stupid but not that stupid’ and James is like ‘please I’ll pay you’ and Sirius is easily bribed so he tries to get her to go on a date with him and like she doesn’t until she does and then finds out he only did it because James paid him but then they fall in love? Basically just 10 things I hate about you lol

My next one is with Draco Malfoy and all it is is that reader comes from a pure blood family and they’ve known each other since they were babies and it’s like basically destined they get married but she gets like really upset when he gets the mark which makes for a good cuddling and crying scene and like idk people are probably more creative than me but I just like reimagining scenes from hp but with this new character so like Poa when she gets angry at him about buckbeak or the bathroom scene (maybe she duels Harry?) and she’s so upset about Draco and comforts him, or helping him in sixth year and comforting him or the quidditch scene in the fifth book (weird note, but I’ve always headcannoned that my original character finds out about dumbledores army but doesn’t say anything and like the da knows she knows but she doesn’t tell Draco or maybe Draco finds out and gets angry at her?)

My other one is another Draco malfoy one where James and Lily live and she’s Harry’s younger sister (and Voldemort isn’t a thing) but like there’s still stereotypes and beliefs and such and like it’s obviously enemies to lovers and maybe they get prefect duties together ? (I am a sucker for this trope in Harry Potter) but then when they do date they try to hide it but Harry finds out but doesn’t say anything until they get into a fight at home and he is like ‘well at least I’m not fucking Draco malfoy behind everyone’s back) (in my head they aren’t fucking because they’re still in Hogwarts but you get the idea) and James and Lily are just like ‘WHAT?!’ Like idk I just think it’s funny imagining James and Lily finding out their kid is dating Draco and Lucius and narcissus finding out Draco is dating a potter - so many possibilities!

Update 6.10.21

I also have one for Charlie Weasley !! And basically you’re friends with the twins and like you go your whole Hogwarts life with the biggest crush on Charlie but like he low key doesn’t even know who you are and you want to become a healer and then after Hogwarts there is a position in Romania and you take it because you know Charlie’s there and at first he is like hmmm I think I know you and you explain you’re friends with the twins and obviously he falls in love with you I also took it in a nsfw direction where it’s like major innocence kink because Charlie is just such a dom to me and he like teaches you everything but he makes sure you’re happy and safe and it’s not really like serious sex you’re both just having fun and he kinda introduces you to dom/sub dynamics but you can do whatever is most comfortable

#I’m probably going to regret posting this #it’s a mess #but let me know if you do actually use any of them and how you change the story #and please feel free to share some of yours because I am running out of scenarios 😭😭#scenarios

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chasingpj · 4 years ago

Text

𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐠

"You're more powerful than you think, Y/n. What's he gonna do? Splash you?"

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 4,321

warnings: none?? some violence but nothing gory

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story click here

a/n: i can't believe I actually posted this on time. i hope you guys like it!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Atticus leans against a tree, his hands in his pockets as he gives the wood nymphs a smirk that made you want to throw up. The three girls that stand in front of him giggle, nudging his shoulder playfully at something he said. You couldn't hear much from afar, but you doubt it was that funny, the girls just entertaining him because he's handsome or whatever. You scoff softly under your breath, turning away and sharing a look with Lou Ellen, who's scratching the backs of Ambrose's ears. The two of you rolling your eyes simultaneously before you turn on your heels.

While talking amongst themselves, your older brothers are huddled together, the three of them with furrowed eyebrows, serious stares seemingly deep in conversation. As Ernest takes a moment to look up from their circle, you meet his gaze. You don't fail to notice the nervous smile he gives you as he lightly jabs Alabaster in the ribs with his elbow. Furrowing your eyebrows, your steps become hesitant as Alabaster halts mid-sentence, his scowl fading into a friendly smile.

“What’s up?” You ask hesitantly. It was clear you had interrupted something. James and Ernest look at Alabaster, waiting for him to respond to your question. Alabaster shakes his head,

“Nothing. What happened? Got bored of watching your brother flirt with the wood nymphs?” He jokes with you, and you smile, willing to look past the strange tension between them.

“Not bored, more like I couldn’t stand it anymore,” you say, making your brothers chuckle.

“Dude’s got game,” Ernest nods proudly as he shrugs. You cringe,

“Gross.” Lou Ellen giggles as she joins you, her arms wrapping around yours. “Anyways, what are we doing to pass time today?”

Capture the flag was probably one of the activities you hated most at camp. Especially when you were playing on the same side as the Ares Cabin. None of you were strong sword fighters or archers, only relying on your powers in battle and this deemed you guys as not useful by Clarisse’s standards. This meant you and your siblings were always stationed at the same side of the forest where you rarely got any action.

Alabaster hums, his hands shoved in his pockets, “I was actually thinking that we should take over the game,” he suggests, and your eyes widen in surprise.

“What? Clarisse will lose her mind if we meddle with the game.” You really didn’t want to deal with her. Because of the run-ins you've had with her in the past, you preferred to stay out of her way because then, for the most part, she’ll stay out of yours. You were slow to anger, but when you got riled up about something, you raged. And in terms of Clarisse, she just knew how to get you there. Alabaster rolls his eyes,

"Yeah, well, we always lose because Clarisse takes the same approach every time. She has us tossed to the side as if we're useless. I'm serious; let’s prove ourselves. You can get the flag, Y/n. Take down Percy, and we'll cover you."

You shift, exchanging looks with your brothers. Not only were you surprised at Alabaster wanting to jump in the game, but he was also assigning you the task of taking down the other team's main defense. Alabaster was hands down your most powerful sibling at camp. Though you didn’t have a cabin, there was an unspoken agreement that he was the representative of the Hecate children. He’s been studying the longest and has taught you almost everything you know. You weren’t sure why he was putting you out there when he could do a better job at trapping Percy. Though Alabaster has praised you for being a quick learner and dedicated to your studies, you didn’t quite see the potential he obviously saw in you.

"I don't know… me against Percy? I don't think I'm the best one to put out there," you gradually begin mumbling your words as Alabaster’s face hardens at your self-doubt. He scoffs, looking off into the forest as he shakes his head,

"You’re more powerful than you think, Y/n. What is he gonna do? Splash you?" You gawk at him, not sure if he was discrediting Percy's powers or if he was truly ignorant to what he could do. You haven't seen Percy do much in person, but from the stories you've heard about what he's done on his quests, you couldn't act like he wasn't powerful. Your brother’s chuckle at what Alabaster said, and Ernest nods,

“You got this, Y/n. Remember, our powers are almost limitless; it all depends on up here,” he says as he taps your forehead with his index finger softly. “Your mind can be your sidekick or your downfall.”

You smile at the reminder and nod. Your siblings have always been your biggest motivators when it came to your magic. There are only 8 of you, so you guys are a tight-knit group, always encouraging each other to excel in your abilities.

Though you guys are all around the same age, you look up to your brothers the most. Alabaster, Ernest, and James are the most knowledgeable ones out of the bunch. They were usually the ones giving demonstrations of spells and potions, passing you notes from their book of shadows. James taught you and Atticus how to control your magic when you were angry, Alabaster taught you most of your defense magic, and Ernest just had a way of being able to lift everyone's spirits. They believed in you, you all believed in each other, and you couldn’t ask for a better family.

Still, with their words of praise and advice, you were still hesitant about going head to head with Percy. You didn’t want to disappoint them, though, not wanting to seem scared or weak.

“Okay, fine." Your siblings chatter excitedly, Alabaster smiling proudly as he pats your shoulder.

“Atticus!” Alabaster shouts, interrupting whatever your brother was saying to the wood nymphs.

“Yeaah?”

“Come over here.” Alabaster chuckles as Atticus's shoulders slump. He looks at the girls he was talking to, smiling at them before dismissing himself.

“What is it? I was on a roll,” he says, playfully annoyed.

“They’re sending me out as bait,” you say dramatically as you frown. Atticus furrows his eyebrows,

“Uh, what?” You laugh at his reaction, Alabaster side-eyeing you with a smile on his own face.

“What she means is she’s going to take down Percy, and we’re gonna handle the guys around the flag. James, Ernest, and I are gonna shadow travel as far as we can, which is maybe a little before their last line of defense, okay? You, Lou Ellen, Sage, and Alice are gonna deal with the Apollo kids,” he says, the 7 of you listening attentively. You shift on your feet; head cocked to the side as you raise your hand.

“Yes?”

“If you guys can shadow travel closer to the flag, why don’t you guys end the game?”

“Because it’ll piss Clarisse off even more if it's you,” James smirks, and your jaw drops,

“Oh, now, you’re really throwing me into the line of fire, huh?” Your face is straight as your siblings laugh, and you cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t know why you guys are laughing. I don’t find this very funny,” you retort, looking away to hide your smile. You couldn’t deny that you wanted to see Clarisse’s reaction when she realizes it was you who got the flag.

“When you have the flag, and it’s time to run back to the pond, you have to become ethereal,” Alabaster says, and you blink,

“What?! I just learned how to do that! And I did it at night,” you say, a little panicked. “I don’t know if I can hold it for long and-”

“You’ll do it,” Alabaster cuts you off, and you take a step back as Ambrose whines in displeasure. He definitely wasn’t giving you a choice, and it bothered you. You were grateful for his belief in you, but you really hated how nonchalant he was, considering you could get hurt. “Ready?” He asks the rest of the group, moving on from your concern and your jaw clenches. You feel unprepared, but it seems like it didn’t matter, so you didn’t bother saying anything else.

“Whatever,” you mumble, and you walk past your siblings, your familiar trotting close behind you. Before you disappear in the trees, you hear Atticus say something about not being sure if you should go out there alone before Alabaster shuts him down.

It didn’t take you long to arrive near the pond. Dodging the twigs and leaves on the forest ground, you get as close as you can, hiding behind a tree. You cautiously peek over the side to see if Percy was by the pond as he usually was and to your surprised, the pond is unguarded. You consider making a run for it but something about this felt too easy. Why wouldn't he be at the pond? A high-pitched whine comes from Ambrose’s lips, snapping you out of your thoughts and you quietly shush him, not wanting to get caught.

“Looking for me?” A familiar voice says, and you turn around fast finding Percy a few feet from you, his sword up and ready. The Percy you were met with in the past week or so always had this friendly glint to him. But right now, his eyes were clouded with determination. You feel your heart beating hard in your chest, but you maintain a pretty good poker face as you pull the dagger that’s strapped to your thigh in one motion.

You were by no means a strong sword fighter. Like everyone else, you attended a few classes initially, but it didn’t take you long to realize it wasn’t your domain. It didn’t come as natural for you as the other campers, and you hated when you weren’t good at something right away. After many defeats, you gave up, deciding you’ll excel in your magic so you can depend on it instead.

Your strategy was to go head to head with Percy with your abilities, not like this. Before you could adjust your plan, Percy makes the first move, lunging toward you. His movements were fast and strong, and you were struggling to keep up from the start. You grunt as you manage to defend his attacks, not confident enough to go for a hit because you weren’t sure of your timing. You had to think fast. There was no way you'd be able to win in this sword fight. So you did the last thing he'd expect, you ran away.

"Hey!" Percy calls after you, and you can hear the confusion in his voice. He looks around, not sure if this was some way to distract him or if you really gave up on the fight.

You turn around when you’re about 10 feet from him and you quickly shove your dagger into its casing. Electric green orbs form at the palms of your hands, and you swallow as concentrate on the tug in your gut. Your eyes meet Percy’s, the other now understanding what you were doing once he sees you form the orbs in your hands. He smiles, accepting the challenge as he caps his sword before shoving it in his pocket. His fingers spread out, his arm extended on his sides. He takes a deep breath as he channels his energy, and before you could send out your first attack, you see the water from the pond behind him rising in a thick controlled stream.

As he sends the stream right to you, you felt like everything went in slow motion. Your pulse is loud in your ears, and you focus on your energy, grunting loudly as you send out a thick green beam right at his water. You squint your eyes as you feel droplets splashing on your face from where your magic met his stream. There is a loud hissing in the air as the intense heat from your energy evaporates the water on impact. You’re out of breath by the time Percy retreats, his eyes darkening as he formulates another plan to attack.

Not letting him muster something stronger than what he did before, you begin throwing energy orbs at his feet rapidly, watching the heat burn the grass as Percy jumps back every time.

You had a new plan now, and as ridiculous as it sounded, a part of it was to get him in the pond. Most people would want to get him away from the water, but that would be too easy of a solution, and he’d be expecting that strategy. You had decided that you had to use his powers against him. Just as you planned, Percy eventually jumps into the water with a cocky smirk and you bite your lip. Don’t mess this up.

You close your eyes, feeling a tug in your core as you imagine yourself teleporting behind Percy. When you open them, you’re met with the back of his head, and before he can look around for you, you kick him behind the knees hard. He groans, falling forward into the water.

"Sorry!" You mumble as you jump out of the pond. The water begins to rise around him, and with the most confident voice you can muster, you shout,

“Incantare: Conglacio!" Your arms spread up in front of you, toward the pond. Almost immediately, the water that was risen suddenly becomes frozen solid around Percy. He grunts as he tries to move, quickly realizing that he was trapped in the ice from the knee down. You weren't sure of the extent of Percy's control over water, and you take into consideration that he may be able to change the temperature of it, but you don't wait to find out.

You speed past the pond, Ambrose racing after you, and he barks loudly. Not wanting to make the mistake of ignoring his warnings, you look up and you see campers from the Apollo cabin settled on the branches already pulling back their arrows.

“Where are they?” You mutter, hearing the whooshing noise of the bows being released. Anger and annoyance swirl in your chest at your sibling's late timing. You were already on edge about this whole plan. Now that you’ve taken down one of your big hurdles, you were determined to finish this game, not wanting to feel like a fool for trying if you failed.

Your orbs glow green with the returning of your aura, and you shout angrily as you abruptly stop running. In one quick motion, you extend your arms beside you with clenched fists, blasting a veil of your energy like a force field. The force sends their arrows in the opposite direction and manages to knock a few Apollo campers off the trees. You didn’t knock all of them, but it bought you enough time to run as they tried to regain their balance. Halfway through, you hear shouting and groaning as your siblings take down the rest and bind their arms behind their backs with magic.

You run past the Apollo cabin's defense, and soon, you arrive where the flag is. James and Ernest entertain the two disarmed Athena campers that were guiding the flag, fighting them with their hands while Alabaster tied up a couple of other campers in the trees nearby.

“Grab her!” One of the Athena campers yells, his partner lunging toward you without hesitation. You manage to dodge his attempt, the other grunting as he falls from the force that didn't meet your body.

The moment you were close enough to snatch the flag out of the ground and you hear your brothers cheering you on as you sprint back. Your mind races, not sure when you should attempt to become ethereal, and you begin to worry if you’ll even transform at all. Soon, you're greeted with your answer as you catch sight of Mark, one of Clarisse’s brothers, sprinting toward you, and you curse under your breath. Mark will take the flag from you and run back with it himself and you couldn't just let him claim you win. It was much earlier than you wanted, but there was no other choice.

You let out a rough breath, and you focus hard, recalling what you felt the night you transformed for the first time. A gradual tingle becomes more intense as it starts from your fingertips and from the tips of your toes. The sensation creeps up your arms and legs until it meets together in your stomach and as your core vibrates, you smile, knowing you’ve succeeded.

Your siblings shout at you excitedly from the sidelines, the moment you transform, laughing and taunting Mark while he makes useless attempts to grab you. You focus hard to maintain the vibrating in your core as you approach the river, afraid that you will lose your hold. As you get closer to the pond, you lock eyes with Annabeth as she, Percy, and a few others are waiting for your arrival.

If you weren't ethereal, she would have tackled you straight to the ground no problem, but as expected, she ran right through you. The other campers attempt to catch you after Percy sends out a thick slash of water that would have grabbed you by the waist and up in the air.

“What?! How are you doing that?!” Annabeth shouts, and you don’t say anything as finally get to the other side of the pond and you stab the flag in the ground. Your muscles and chest burn, and you double over, hands on your knees to catch your breath. The satyrs blow the horn and at the sound of it, echoing through the forest, signally your triumph, you manage a ragged laugh.

The distant cheers of your siblings become louder as they appear from the trees, running to you. The energy in your core disperses as you turn back to normal, but you don't have much time to recover. The moment your brothers approach you, you feel yourself being picked up and tossed in the air.

“Guys! Please,” you choke through your laughs, squealing when they throw you a little too high for your liking. You look over to your right, seeing Percy smiling, silently congratulating you as Annabeth was pink with anger.

As your brothers put you down, you notice Malcolm showing up a few seconds late with your team’s flag in his hand. Behind him, Clarisse stomps towards you with a few of her friends following beside her. You had to admit, it was kind of satisfying being the one to get the flag, but if looks could kill, you’d be dead.

“Uh oh,” you mumble as she approaches you, your siblings huddling close beside you protectively, and even Ambrose stands in front of you, growling deeply.

“You messed up the game!” She accuses, and your head jerks back,

“Are you joking? I won the game. Mark was barely halfway by the time I was running here.”

“It doesn’t matter! He would have made it.”

“He really wouldn’t have,” James points out, and Clarisse snaps her attention to him.

“Either way, you guys were supposed to stay on the north side of the forest! You freaks have no place in games like this, anyways.”

“Bold of you to say considering we won the game for you,” you say through a clenched jaw, your eyes glowing as you feel your anger stirring in your chest. You hated when you and your siblings were outed in the camp. Being called freaks or avoided because people deemed you guys as too dangerous without giving you chance, angered you the most. It just wasn't fair.

You laugh, not from amusement, but from disbelief. At this point, you didn’t care, you were at a high after your win, and if Clarisse wanted to fight about it, you were up for it. “Is your pride that wounded, Clarisse? Maybe you aren’t as good as you think you are,” you walk up to her, ignoring Atticus's hesitant calling of your name.

The way Clarisse’s eyes darken failed to intimidate you in your furious state. You guys were practically nose to nose, and in the reflection of her eyes, you can see your aura illuminate wildly around. As Clarisse draws her sword, you smirk, ready to blast her into the trees the moment she decided to move.

“Girls,” Chiron’s voice booms through the silence as he walks through the trees, and the both of you look over. He doesn’t say anything else, the tone of his voice being enough of a warning.

Atticus gently pulls on your arm, and you unwillingly back down. Clarisse scoffs, and she pushes past you hard causing you to stumble back. Atticus catches you from behind, letting you regain your balance and you rub your shoulder, looking back to watch her storming through the forest.

“You did well, Y/n,” Chiron praises, and you smile at him before he goes off to announce the winning of your team. Everyone except for the Ares Campers and the opposite team cheers loudly, excited to have fewer chores after a streak of losing. Soon the team crowds around you, and your siblings start telling a dramatic interpretation of what you did forcing you to chime in here and there as some of the things they described were a little off from the truth. You smile, listening to their chattering, and eventually, you fall behind the crowd as they begin talking about something else. Suddenly, a hand rests on your shoulder, and you look beside you, Alabaster with a proud look on his face.

“I told you you’d do it,” he says teasingly.

“Yeah, yeah.” You wave your hand, lightly nudging his hand off your shoulder. The last thing you wanted was for him to start his ‘I told you so’ speech. “I get it, you believe in me, and whatever,” you joke, and Alabaster laughs,

“I’m serious, Y/n. You’re-”

“More powerful than you think. I know.” You finish his sentence as you shift on your feet. “I guess you’re right,” you admit, mumbling under your breath.

“What was that?” He asks as he leans closer as if he didn’t hear you. You nudge his shoulder and scoff,

“If you missed what I said, then too bad!” You declare as you walk ahead of him. You hear his laughter, and he decides to let it go as he returns to walk with your brothers, Ambrose happily trotting behind him.

“Y/n!” At the call of your name, you turn around, Percy jogging over to you. You giggle, amused at how sweet he looked after being able to intimidate you during the game. “I can’t believe you apologized after kicking me."

“I felt bad,” you admit sheepishly, making him laugh. “How did you get out of the ice?” You ask, playing with the hem of your shorts. He hums,

“It took me a while to figure it out, but apparently I can change the temperature of the water,” he explains, and you nod.

“Yeah, I figured you might be able to. I won’t be using that again,” you say playfully, and Percy smiles.

“What you did was really cool,” he compliments, and you feel your cheeks warm up. Out of all the praise that you’ve heard just now, Percy’s made you feel different. “I have to look out for you now,” he nudges you.

“Yeah, you better watch out, Jackson. I have a lot of tricks up my sleeve,” you warn him, and you take in how he gleams at your banter, making you smile even more.

“I’m looking forward to it. I’m just happy that you can’t trap me in my own element; that would have been embarrassing.”

“I’m kind of bummed about that. It would have been funny if I did, though," you tease and Percy scoffs playfully.

“Y/n!” Alabaster calls on you and the other waves for you to come to him. “You have to rest,” he says shortly. You couldn’t read the expression on his face, but he didn’t look too pleased. You frown and nod, disappointed that your conversation was cut short with Percy.

“I’ll see you later,” you smile softly, and Percy nods.

“Yeah, same,” he says, returning the smile before you turn around to join your siblings back to the cabin.

masterlist taglist:@xxyrr

#percy jackson #percy x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #my writing #percy jackson and the olympian fic #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson au #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson fic

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dreamkidddream · 4 years ago

Note

Heya! It’s me again!! Can I request a BSD crew with Dazai, Chuuya, and Atsushi with a older siblings reader that really cares for them and is overprotective. (Really cold on the outside, but with them its a whole different story) Sorry it’s long!! Looking forward with your works!

Thank you for the request and thank you for reading!! Sorry about the wait, and it got kinda long. Reader is gender neutral and hope you enjoy!

TW: Suicide talk in Dazai’s (nothing too heavy is mentioned), and small spoiler for Oda (I know I keep bringing him up but I love him okay), abuse mentioned in Atsushi’s

Being an Overprotective Older Sibling (Sour but Sweet) with: Dazai, Chuuya, and Atsushi

Dazai

He stresses you out so, so, SO MUCH

You were ready to just wrap him up in a straitjacket and just attach him to your back, but you figured he would find a way to break free or kill himself (or even both)

When people saw the two of you together, on the outside, it looked either like a: you were handling an overgrown toddler or b: he was being held hostage by this scary looking individual that looks like they could rearrange your organs from the inside out

But, with you guys, it was the complete opposite. You were the best relative that Dazai had and could count on, but you refused to let him try any suicide attempts from his book (at least while he was in your presence). You were really sweet, always made sure to look out for him, and constantly protecting him.

When you came into the ADA looking just for him, everyone was confused. Who was this random stranger coming in with the coldest expression, asking specifically for Dazai, holding a wrapped box. They knew that he had many enemies that range from now to his past, so now they were assuming that you were someone that came to get revenge.

Kunikida tried to intercept you first, but you told him that you only came to see Dazai and no one else. And that he better still be alive and uninjured or else. Well, they obviously took that as a threat and before a whole brawl could break out, here walks in Dazai and Atsushi

“Oh, (Y/N)! What a surprise to see you on this lovely day. Here to check on your dear little brother?” Hold up...BROTHER?? DAZAI HAS A SIBLING, AND HE’S THE YOUNGEST??! Poor Kunikida is about to malfunction and Ranpo is just sitting back enjoying the show with his snacks

“Osamu...How many times do I have to tell you...stop forgetting your lunch! You need to eat properly. And before you even say anything, you are going to eat this. I know you didn’t eat breakfast this morning, because just drinking coffee is not breakfast, and...”

You went from getting ready to whoop some ass to nagging him what is going on

And that was the day that the Agency found out that Dazai had an older sibling. They were wondering why you never came to the office, and when you responded that is was, “none of their damn business”, they decided not to question it (at least in front of you). And they were so shocked to see you act, no be, so delicate with him. You were still talking to about your lunch, looking at him with the softest expression telling him, “I know you struggle with caring for yourself, so let me do it for you. You’re my younger brother, Osamu, let me do my job in taking care of you. You won’t let me protect you when you’re on the job, so let me protect you everywhere else.”

So, he was the reason why you weren’t working in the office alongside him? And it was true. After his days in the Port Mafia, when you were working alongside him, it was fine. He hated that you always got in the line of fire to “protect” him (and he knew and kept telling you that he didn’t need it, and if he did get hurt, to just let him suffer, to let him die). You didn’t understand his complete need to end his life, and it ate you up inside, but it also you a new resolve. Maybe he didn’t believe that his life was important or that he mattered to someone, so you took it to show him that someone did care, that you cared.

It backfired one day on a mission, when you took a bullet that was meant for him. You were so close to death that day, knocking right on His door, and it shook him to his core. Back in those days, he cared for you and Oda, and cared little for himself. He came so close to losing you, and he realized he wouldn’t know what to do without you. You were one of the only people (honestly beside Oda) that he actually felt some kind of emotion for, and he would be damned if he lost you too

So he came with a new resolution after he left the Mafia, he would handle the dangerous life, while you stayed home. You obviously strongly rejected this idea, but he left no room for refusal. He rather be the one close to death than you, you still deserved to live life, not him.

It led to a very long, emotionally draining, confrontational argument for hours, but the decision was made. You would live a regular life, far from any kind of violence or death, working a regular job while he would put his life on the line. On the terms that he would constantly keep you updated (ie. not ignoring your hourly calls and texts), actually eat the food that you prepare (breakfast, lunch, and dinner), and not push you away whenever he needed someone to leave on.

You also threatened politely let him know that if these conditions weren’t followed, then all bets are off and you would raise hell. You were here to stay and you’ll make sure that he is too

You were a positive influence on Dazai’s life, and it was so funny how you would switch personalities. How you switch from being so kind and childlike to so frigid and antisocial was very entertaining to see. He does love you, and while you would try to police his every move (which was literally impossible), he wouldn’t change it for the world.

Plus he LIVED for you coming to stop by in the office now, seeing how Kunikida would try to avoid eye contact with you and Atsushi nervously sweating in his seat was hilarious. He knew you wouldn’t hurt them, but it was still pretty amusing

Chuuya

Opposite of Dazai, you stress him out SO MUCH

Part of it is because you’re overprotective, another part of it is because you are a complete smartass and you knew it

“Damn (Y/N) can you LET ME BREATHE FOR A SECOND?!”

“...”

“Seems like you’re breathing fine to me.”

“WHY YOU-“

But, he may complain, but he actually didn’t dislike that you were working with him in the Port Mafia. You could keep an eye on him, and he could make sure that you didn’t get into any extra trouble that could interfere with his missions or have you get disciplined by Mori. It was a win-win for you both

If there was one thing that he could change though, is your constant need of trying to take the hits designated for him. He doesn’t need you always jumping in front of him, defending him with your own body. He was more than capable of taking care of himself, if he wasn’t then not only would he not be one of the top executives, but he also wouldn’t still be alive

Also he has a reputation to uphold. How was he suppose to display his raw power and talents when you were continuously intruding on his cases?! Not to mention the fact that you act so detached when you’re dealing with the other members. It’s to the point that they’re too intimated to even make eye contact with you

Which he thought was so bizarre because you were one of the nicest people that he has ever come in contact with (even though he was your brother and you guys interacted with each other every day). You played the annoying sibling role very well (too well in fact), but you still make sure to look out for him and make sure that he’s okay, emotionally and physically.

He understood why you did it, but at the same time he didn’t. You were both extremely strong, and he was the one with the better ability (not to mention that he’s the one that has Arahabiki inside of him). It came off that obviously you wanted him safe, but also that he couldn’t handle what comes at him. He’s not a little kid, he’s not some weakling that needs to be persistently protected, you both didn’t survive this long solely because of you, it was because of you both. It was a teamwork effort, and while he gets that he’s your youngest brother, he worries about you too

And he proved his point one night, when he had to dress your wounds after a mission went south. Here he was, scolding you and cursing about how stupid you were being, and the more he went on, the more you figured that he was angrier at himself for letting this happen.

“Why is it so hard to understand that I want to protect you too?! Why don’t you give a damn about yourself like how you do about me?! You act like this entirely new person on the field like you don’t give a damn what happens to you and it PISSES ME OFF! Just like you protect me, I can and will protect you. I may be loyal to the Port Mafia, but you come first, always.”

After that, you did let him handle his own battles (but if he got a single scratch on him, then you will be joining whether he agrees or not). You were still annoying in Chuuya’s eyes, but it was just him being his stubborn, short tempered self about his older relative. He wants the best for you without a doubt and he wants you to realize you don’t have to carry this imaginary burden of protecting him, because you weren’t the powerful one in the family. He had your back just like you had his. You were one of the only things that still convinced him that he was still human and not a monster, and no words will measure just how much he appreciates you for that. You had your moments when you were irritating the hell out of him, but he still loved you regardless

Besides, you were the only person who somehow was able to get one of his favorite vintage wines (it still confused him so much how you got it and not him, and you refused to tell him) so he definitely couldn’t afford to lose you

Atsushi

Okay, you do not play about this man, ever

After growing up in the orphanage and joining the ADA, it took a while to get readjusted to being around people that weren’t trying to purposely harm you for just existing. For Atsushi, even though he was hesistant to join the agency, you were honestly against it. Sure, it was a fresh start from that horrible place, but it was also another gateway for danger. Not to mention how sketchy this suicidal guy was, if he was able to join the agency there’s no telling what other nut cases are apart of it too

Plus, you needed to keep your brother in your presence at all times. Enough has happened to him already, and you were going to do everything in your power to prevent him from going through that type of pain ever again, you swore

But after he discovered that he’s the weretiger that’s been causing trouble (which you had a hunch about but no way to confirm) and with him having no type of knowledge on how to control this new ability, it seemed like you two had no choice but to stay with the ADA. You weren’t very happy about this arrangement, but if it was able to help Atsushi with his newfound ability and provided you with the means to support you both (ie. getting paid), then so be it. You sucked it up and both joined

It took...some time for the other members to get used to your demeanor. Having someone in the agency give off such an intense deadly vibe was a little unsettling. It seemed like Kenji, Ranpo, and Dazai were the only three (besides your brother) that weren’t phased by it, but other people like the Tanizaki twins tried to steer clear of you as much as they could

It wasn’t that they hated you, it’s just...your aura wasn’t the friendliest. And it was even more confusing since you were the exact opposite for your brother! You conversed and laughed with him, but you never did it with the others. Watching Kunikida and Dazai do their daily banter didn’t even make you crack a smile. But whenever you were around Atsushi, it seemed like you were carefree, glowing even. It was evident that you both kept each other smiling and positive, and it warmed everyone to see

Whether it was desk duty or field missions, you were both always paired with each other. If Dazai and Atsushi were assigned to a case, guess who was also magically assigned with them too? If he was stuck on desk duty, you were too. No one had a problem with it surprisingly. Which was a complete lie but after you...made a convincing argument, they left you alone and let you tag along with your brother as long as it didn’t interfere with the success of the case

Junichiro low key understood it though, don’t be fooled cause he’ll snap for his sister too if he had to

You didn’t even give any enemies the chance to even come close to Atsushi. That’s how serious you were with keeping your word. Even when him and Akutagawa fought, you would find a way to get involved. You will not let anyone else hurt your brother again if you could help it

He did get upset with you, whenever you did this, which led to a really bad blowout between you two. You figured this was going to happen sooner or later. It just seem like Atsushi was ready to prove himself to someone when he didn’t have to, but you didn’t understand why he felt that need.

Ever since you guys have been in that hellhole of an orphanage, you always tried to protect each other, but you always tried to take the beatings that were meant for him. He always blamed himself for you being beaten and tortured. It was his fault, if he just takes the abuse and the “punishments” by himself, then you wouldn’t have to get involved and suffer because of him. If Atsushi wasn’t so frail, if he wasn’t so weak, if he just wasn’t a mistake-

“Naka, you okay? You’re zoning out again. You’re gonna walk right into the street if you don’t stop that!”

“R-right. Sorry (Y/N). I guess what happen-“

“The orphanage still gets to you, I know. Please stop blaming yourself, Nakajima. It wasn’t any of our faults, and I don’t blame you for none of it. If anything, I should have done a better job of protecting you. There’s no excuse, neither one of us should have went through what we did, especially you. If anything, I’m the one that needs to apologize. I should’ve tried harder in keeping you-”

“(Y/N) stop saying that! Neither one of us deserved it! You can’t be the strong one for the both of us. I want and have to protect you too! I want to be confident enough in myself and my ability to keep you safe. I already failed when we stuck at that damn orphanage, I’m not going to fail you again! Damn it (Y/N)! Give me a chance to prove to you that I can take care of you like how you took care of me!”

You were stunned. Did your little brother carry this much of a burden because of you? How long has he been feeling this way? He didn’t have to prove himself to you! He was more than enough, and you couldn’t help but feel guilty thinking that it was your fault for him feeling this way

After a very long heart to heart with him, you finally understood where he was coming from. You couldn’t promise him that you would stop your protective nature, but you did let him fight his own battles for once (but you still weren’t letting him get seriously hurt, that still wasn’t going to happen obviously). He told you that he was getting older, and that like it or not that you weren’t always going to be by side. He needed to learn how to stand on his own two feet, and while he loved that you were there for him to lean on, he needed this for himself and for you. He knew that being the best brother that he could be was getting stronger and getting better with his ability, he owed you that much

Atsushi loves you, and he has the same resolve like you. Being that you two are the only thing that you both have left in this world, he wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t lose you under any circumstances. Him bettering himself everyday with the help of you and the agency members and was more than enough to make sure that wouldn’t happpen

#bsd headcanons #bsd imagines #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs reader insert #bungou stray dogs headcanons #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd dazai x reader #dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd chuuya x reader #bsd chuya x reader #bsd atsushi x reader #chuya x reader #atsushi x reader #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #bsd atsushi

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peachtree-dish · 3 years ago

Text

A Te Che Sei Il Mío Grande Amore

Chapter 3: Senza che tu mi dica niente tutto si fa chiaro

Luglio 01, 1969

Luca’s birthday rolled around faster than anyone expected, the day arriving with clear skies and high temperatures. Luca awoke to his mother’s voice echoing through their home as she prepared breakfast. Stretching, the fifteen-year-old shook his nonna as gently as he could to wake her. She grumbled at his attempts and swatted at his claws.

“Nonna,” he sighed, shrugging with a smile and swimming into the kitchen to greet his parents. During his time in Porto Rosso, Luca enjoyed every moment he could swimming and spending as much time in the water since he couldn’t do as much in Genoa. He, along with Giulia and Signora Mia, had snuck to the shoreline in the early hours of the morning every few weeks or so just so Luca could refresh his scales and get the nutrients he needed. It was especially necessary when the temperature had become too cold and made him lethargic and ill. Luca shook his head softly, sending bubbles rippling above him in search of the surface. Signora Mia had been just as kind as Massimo, and just as headstrong in a lot of ways. He made a silent promise to call her with Giulia to make sure she was doing well, even if he were sure nothing could fell the infamous Mia Berni.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Daniella kissed Luca’s cheek and handed him a plate full of seaweed and fish flank on his way to the table. Returning the sentiment, the youth sat beside his father and informed his parents that grandma had decided to sleep in a little longer.

“Ugh, she does this every time. MA!” Daniella shouted in frustration, only to be startled by her own mother swimming around the corner.

“You’re being dramatic, dear. I only do it when I think it will annoy you.” The elderly sea monster smiled toothily at her disgruntled daughter who muttered, “Which is every day,” and finished setting the table.

“So, how does it feel to be another year older, son?” Lorenzo floated a piece of fish to his mouth and chewed animatedly, his gaze never leaving Luca’s. Luca shrugged in response and picked at the seafood drifting across the coral table.

“Not any different than last year, honestly. I still feel like I’m fourteen, so nothing special.” He slurped the seaweed into his mouth, much to his mother’s chagrin, and instantly missed the taste of pasta.

“Fifteen is a pretty big deal, though, you’re becoming a young man and that means changes and more responsibility.”

“I hardly think now is the time to discuss any of that at the table.” Luca’s grandmother scoffed before he could reply.

“What, it’s just the basics; Longer tail and fins, not to mention attracting the pretty lady gills, eh?” Lorenzo nudged Luca in the side who nearly choked on his food and spluttered white bubbles over the table, his scales flushing darkly.

“Lorenzo!” Danielle cried, her claws slapping the table in mortification.

“What? We were around his age when we met. If I remember correctly, you thought I was quite the catch.” He batted his eyes at her, pursing his lips teasingly.

“I was young and silly; I didn’t know any better.” Try as she might, Daniella couldn’t stop the smile that threatened to break her scowl. She busied herself by shredding the fish flank and wrapping it in seaweed. Undeterred, Lorenzo lifted from his chair and leaned in closer, trying to further fluster his wife.

“Yeah, maybe, but you still accepted my courting pearl after the Spring Swim Festival.” Lorenzo pulled a reluctant Daniella out of her chair and began to lead her around the room in spins and pivots, grinning madly as she shrieked with laughter. Luca watched with a mixture of amusement and confusion, his discomfort fading as he pushed the idea of ‘lady gills’ far from his mind. When he peered at his grandma, she appeared nonplussed and continued munching on her food although a genuine smile lifted her aging scales.

“You were skinnier and more handsome then, of course, she fell for you.” Lorenzo pouted at his mother-in-law and led both he and Daniella back to the table.

“I simply grew into my man body,” He emphasized his point by sticking his gut out even farther and patted it proudly. The table burst into laughter and Luca quickly finished eating after, his stomach nearly as full as his heart.

After he finished, he turned to his mother and asked, “Is it ok if I go visit Alberto and Giulia for the afternoon?”

Daniella conceded with a content nod, “Just don’t forget about our dinner tonight at Massimo’s, we don’t want you kids to be late.” Luca agreed cheerfully and kissed each family member on the cheek before swimming out the entrance.

“Hey!” Luca turned mid swim to see Daniella at the entrance. “I love you.”

“I love you too, ma!” Grinning, Luca took off, the water gliding past him as he made his way to the surface and his friends. As he leaped through the blue waves, he imagined he was like the superhero from the newspaper comics that Giulia and Mia both read. Pointing both fists forwards, Luca broke the surface with a whoop, water streaming behind him like a cape.

When he arrived at the Marcovaldo residence, the only beings there to greet them were Machiavelli and a few of his kits, each of whom wanted his attention and brief affection. Finding some of his spare clothes in the drawers of Alberto and Giulia's shared room, Luca quickly left the house and wandered the streets, eager to find his friends. Judging from the sun, he knew the morning fishing trip had come to an end not too long before which should mean Giulia, and Alberto was out delivering. Walking through the town square, Luca waved to a few of the patrons he recognized, mentally wincing as he remembered his first attempts at greeting Porto Rosso’s patrons. If anyone had been the stupidi, it had been them.

Chuckling as he went up the city’s hill, Luca caught sight of two familiar heads of curls along with two faces he was not expecting. Tensing at the sight of Guido and Ciccio, Luca prepared himself for a fight and made to run the rest of the way before he heard laughter. Guido was laughing at something Alberto had said and lightly touched his shoulder. Somehow, the movement was worse than if he had punched Alberto instead. A dark and ugly feeling reared its head within Luca’s belly, causing his face to burn and his hands to clench. Clenching his teeth, the young sea monster marched up the cobblestone pathways, intent on not showing his discomfort.

“Ciao,” he muttered shortly, arriving beside Alberto, and instantly causing Guido to lift his hand from Alberto’s shoulder. Giulia nodded hello from her seat on the bike as Alberto wrapped an arm around Luca’s shoulder.

“Oh, hey Luca,” Alberto cheered even more so upon seeing Luca. “You remember Guido and Ciccio, vero? I helped their families in the off-season while you were away.” Luca looked at the two teens who stood abashedly in front of him and offered his hand after a moment of hesitation.

“It’s good to see you both again,” Not, he thought as he shook the brunette’s hand. Ciccio spoke up, his round features coloring.

“We realize we never officially apologized to you before you left, si? We’re really sorry about last summer, Luca.”

“Si, Ciccio, and I were very foolish and ignoranti, we hope you can forgive us, and we can start again.” Guido smiled warmly, his gaze sincere. Taking a deep breath, Luca felt his earlier feeling of… whatever it was, fading away. If Alberto and Giulia both felt they could trust these boys again, then he could follow their lead.

“Lo apprezzo. I know being around Ercole wasn’t the easiest either, it’s all water under the bridge now anyway.” He smiled genuinely this time, heartened when the two ex-henchmen immediately relaxed.

“Bah, no lie, I’m so happy to be rid of that jerk,” Guido nodded at Ciccio who nodded and twisted his hands anxiously.

“He ate so much of my family’s bread,” Ciccio whispered horrified, his gaze wide. Giulia shared a weirded-out expression with Alberto who only shook his head.

“I didn’t know your family baked,” Luca interceded, ignoring his friends’ lack of subtlety Snapping back to the present, Ciccio grinned widely showing his perfectly white teeth.

“Oh, si, Pasticcini al sale Marino is the pride and joy of Porto Rosso and my family. Our baked goods bring customers from miles around; you should see the line of people who want to buy my mother’s Sfogliatella.” He leaned in conspiratorially to whisper, “My siblings and I have been helping since we were little, so only we know the recipe.” He puffed his round chest out proudly, only to be poked by both Alberto and Guido.

“Knowing a recipe and following it correctly are two different things, Ciccio. Your batter was not very good the last time you tried to make Bombolini.” Guido teased and Alberto nodded knowingly.

“I still don’t know how you mixed up salt and sugar,” the older sea monster screwed his face in disgust, remembering how the supposedly sweet treats and mistakenly been made with copious amounts of salt. “Seriously, Ciccio, even the ocean’s not as salty as those things were.” Ciccio pouted good-naturedly as the group laughed.

“It’s still not as bad as the time Guido set the auto garage on fire,” the blond argued mildly to which said boy grimaced.

“I thought we agreed to never speak of that again; I thought my papa was going to skin me alive.”

The teens chatted a bit more and Luca began to warm up to the two boys who had hurt him so much the past year. Perhaps, he reasoned, they had been good all along and had simply needed the chance to prove themselves.

Bidding Guido and Ciccio farewell, Luca joined Alberto and Giulia as they made the rounds. Luca asked a question that had been on his mind since arriving in Porto Rosso.

“So, whatever happened to Ercole? I haven’t seen him since we’ve been in town.” Alberto placed the cash from his previous sale into the leather pouch of the cart before answering.

“Honestly, the guy kind of disappeared after the race. I think he was embarrassed enough to keep his head low for a while, but other than that, I’m not sure. Maybe he left?” Giulia thought for a moment, her gaze focused on the road ahead.

“Maybe, I don’t think he went away to university, but he could have. His family is really wealthy, so they could afford it no matter the grades he got.”

Luca kicked a pebble, his thoughts skipping back to that one word: university.

“What’s the point of grades anyway, doesn’t that, like, stress you out more?” Alberto mused.

“It certainly does for me,” Giulia huffed. She bid Buongiorno to a young mother who bought the last of their fish and both Luca and Alberto filled the empty space as they headed back down the hill.

“I think it’s mostly competition, to see who really wants to be an academico or no,” she contemplated. “Sometimes if you have really good grades, the universities will pay you to study in their schools. That happened to mama when she moved to Genoa.” Alberto winced slightly at the mention of Giulia’s mother, the story of her separation from Massimo fresh in his memory.

“I wonder if I was good enough, they’d do that for me?” Luca hummed, his eyes following the drains that spread across each building they passed.

“Well, duh, they’d be stupid not to; you’re better than good enough right now,” Alberto bumped his shoulder with a smile. Luca blushed and tossed his friend a grin.

“Hey, happy birthday by the way. It’s about time you got to my age,” the older boy winked and wrapped his arm around Luca again, causing Luca’s skin to hum with energy.

“Oh, yeah! Are you excited for tonight?” Giulia asked over her shoulder.

“Thanks, you guys, really,” Luca felt warmer with Alberto’s arm around him, and he was sure it had nothing to do with the afternoon sun. He wondered briefly if said boy could feel how hard his heart was pounding. “Should I be excited, I thought we were just having dinner?” Luca asked, brow furrowing in confusion. He twisted around to face Giulia as she pulled into the plaza and made her way towards the small coastal home. Alberto lifted his arm when Luca turned away, causing him to feel its loss.

Giulia glanced at him and grinned excitedly. “Papa saved some fireworks from the Festa Della Repubblica since we were in Genoa, and he wants to set them off for tonight.” Luca gasped and jumped in his seat.

“Santa mozzarella! Are you serious?!” He shared an animated glance with Alberto who smiled as he hopped off the cart.

“Of course! I mentioned to him how much you had enjoyed the fireworks during Vigilia di Capodanno last December. He decided that would be his gift to you this year.” Giulia locked the bike and carried their bag of earnings inside, the two boys following after her.

Inside they found Massimo at his stove, his presence filling up the majority of the room. He turned to greet them as they entered, placing a kiss upon Giulia’s curly head.

“Buon cumpleanno, Luca. May you live to see many more,” Massimo rumbled fondly, patting Luca on his checkered shoulder. Luca returned the sentiment and wrapped a short hug around the large man, his arms too small to wrap fully around him.

“Grazie, Massimo. For your wishes and for your surprise gift,” Luca pulled away while Massimo smiled happily, his eyes disappearing behind his bushy eyebrows.

“Giulia,” Massimo chided lightly, turning to his daughter who was counting out money, “I thought we agreed to keep it a secret until after dinner?” Giulia smiled apologetically.

“Scusa, papa, we were just too excited,” She and Alberto began counting the coins on the table while Massimo ushered Luca over to the stove.

“Come, Luca, you will help me prepare dinner,” Massimo handed him a bag of clams and ordered him to wash them thoroughly in the sink. Luca would be the first to admit he was not a cook, but Massimo was gentle in his orders and easily guided Luca in making a perfect pasta dinner.

Once the Paguro family arrived along with Ciccio and Guido, once again to Luca’s surprise, the night was filled with much laughter and filling food. The linguine pasta alle vongole was instantly a hit and paired nicely with the red wine Ciccio had brought on behalf of his family. To the teens’ disappointment, the adults were adamant that they were still too young for alcohol. At one moment, Lorenzo laughed so hard, he inhaled his pasta and sent part of it into his nose much to the delight of the children. After dinner, the group trouped outside with fireworks and dessert in hand. While Massimo and Lorenzo set up the fireworks near the edge of the waterline, Daniella, Giulia, and Ciccio helped serve gelato and watermelon.

With a happy sigh, Alberto nestled himself into the sand alongside Luca, happily chewing on the red-fleshed fruit. Luca’s eyelids were drooping as his body felt full and warm, accompanied by his own friend’s radiating heat. His gaze lingered as Alberto licked gelato from his lips, the cream dripping from the corner of his mouth. Forcing his eyes to look anywhere else, Luca shifted closer to Alberto. Instead, his gaze landed on his father asking animatedly about the fireworks in Massimo’s hand, the larger man looking both confused and entertained by Lorenzo’s energy.

“I know I already said it, but happy birthday,” Luca dragged his eyes back to the tanned boy next to him and smiled. He jumped slightly at the first explosion, watching in delight as the light of the fireworks made his friend’s skin glisten with multicolored hues.

“Thank you for sharing it with me,” He replied easily. Neither made comment as their arms brushed or as their hands splayed out behind them with barely any space between. Up above the merry group, bright color after bright color bloomed across a starlit sky, the stars twinkling their own delight.

#luca #pixar luca #luca fanfiction #alberto scorfano #disney #alberto x luca #giulia marcovaldo #luca 2021 #luca x alberto #my fic tag #my favorite siblings #my fish bois #mutual pining #queer fanfiction #massimo marcovaldo #Daniella Paguro #lorenzo paguro #found family #a te che sei il mio grande amore

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tsarisfanfiction · 3 years ago

Text

A Little Fall Of Rain

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Scott, John

Here is my contribution to @tagminibang! My artist was the absolutely fantastic @chenria and you can find her accompanying art over here. Something nice and family friendly from us here (please don’t mind the title, it has nothing to do with a certain musical song), and of course some good old Scott&John because who doesn’t love that?

John’s pulled one of his disappearing acts again, and Scott can’t relax until he knows where he’s gone.

People. There were people everywhere, all dressed to the nines and peacocking around. Nothing particularly unusual for an event hosted by Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, where no-one in attendance was worth less than at least ten million dollars apiece and appearing to be the poorest in the room would make you a target for the vampires of the elite.

It was a gauntlet Scott would have gladly accepted, not particularly bothered by how others perceived him and his wealth, except the problem with being a Tracy was that his status of multi-billionaireness was well known, and he was actually richer than most of the aristocracy in attendance, even if there were a few Old Money families that looked down their noses at the Tracys for being New Money.

Still, the buffer of their wealth was, at least, sparing his brother from being preyed upon as the poor, charity case invited to look good. Scott wasn’t sure who the actual poorest person in the room was, but anything to keep at least some of the pressure of the occasion off of John was always worth it.

It was a well known fact that John despised this sort of event. Too many people, too much noise and gravity, too many expected conversations and a lot of interest in the elusive Tracy. Scott still wasn’t sure why Lady Penelope insisted he attend these things, and knew that John was going to hide himself up on Thunderbird Five for at least a month and come down for absolutely nothing or no-one as soon as he escaped the party. She called it good for him, and a breath of fresh air, and Scott only let it slide because John never actually said no.

Speaking of his brother, he’d once again lost sight of the distinctive ginger hair amongst the vibrant colours of the event. Hopefully, that meant that John was just in hiding, rather than the chance he’d been dragged into a conversation out of Scott’s current sight. He glanced around the room again, just to be sure, and when no flash of ginger caught his eye, set his shoulders and beelined for their host.

Resplendent in a stunning light pink ballgown, elegant hands covered with equally elegant white gloves and hair coiffed into something gravity-defying yet somehow not at all outrageous, Lady Penelope was entertaining an elderly woman who Scott had been briefly introduced to earlier in the event, some hours ago, as the Duchess of Royston. As far as the British aristocrats seemed to go, she seemed quite amicable, so Scott had no qualms about stepping in as their conversation paused.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but have you seen John recently?”

“Have you lost him?” Lady Penelope asked, sounding the faintest bit amused. If it was anyone else, Scott would have been annoyed at that, but a longstanding friendship with the Lady told him there was no malice or judgement behind it. It was the amusement of someone who knew how much John hated crowds, and how much Scott could, according to his brothers, hover. “I’m afraid I haven’t seen him recently.”

The answer wasn’t surprising, but it was a little disappointing.

“The redheaded young man?” the Duchess asked, and Scott turned to her. “I do believe I saw him heading for the doors earlier.” She gestured to the small side door that led out of the ballroom and, if Scott’s memory served, towards the gardens.

John was likely hiding, then.

Scott smiled at both women. “Thank you,” he said, inclining his head a little towards the older of the two. “I’ll leave you to your conversation. Sorry again for the interruption.”

“What a charming young man,” he heard as he walked away. “Penelope, I know it’s not my place to say, but you could do far worse than a man like that.”

Scott picked up the pace a little, determined to get out of earshot of whatever reply to that Lady Penelope would make, and making a note to never let Gordon know.

The rich like to talk to the rich, and although Scott was on a mission to find and check on his brother, he was waylaid by at least three other people all wanting to discuss all manner of things from International Rescue to, disconcertingly, his ongoing bachelorship before he was able to slip through the door and head down the corridor.

Soundproofing cut off the hubbub of conversation the moment the door clicked shut behind him, proving an excellent argument for why John would come this way, and Scott followed the hallway until he found a bay window that overlooked one of the many gardens in the Creighton-Ward estate.

John was perched on the window sill, although window seat was probably a more accurate term, looking out at the gentle rain falling from the sky. Raindrops raced each other down the panes of glass, and Scott silently settled next to him, waiting to be acknowledged.

It didn’t take long. “I’m fine,” his brother said quietly, still looking out the window rather than turning to face him. Scott hadn’t expected him to. “You can go back.”

Scott let out a wry chuckle. “The hot topic right now seems to be how eligible a bachelor I am,” he said, leaning forwards on his knees and watching his brother out of the corner of his eye. “If you don’t mind, I think I’d quite like to stay here until they move on to other things.”

His brother let out a hmm, sounding thoroughly amused at that, and Scott rolled his eyes. He knew full well that John was more than happy for him to be the target of that particular type of conversation, because it meant most of them would forget to ask him the same questions. Sibling solidarity only went so far, and perhaps even more so than the rest of his brothers, John was all too willing to throw him under the bus to evade the limelight himself.

“If they follow you here, I am leaving,” John threatened mildly. “And then you will not be welcome to follow me.” It wasn’t an empty threat, but that didn’t matter because Scott would always use himself as bait if it meant a brother could escape a bad situation. Besides, John knew Lady Penelope’s manor far better than he did, and Scott knew if John really wanted to hide, even he wouldn’t be able to find him until the ginger was ready to be found.

It wouldn’t be the first time, after all. John had never been a fan of social situations and had mastered the art of disappearing young. Scott had many memories of running around frantically, trying in vain to find where his brother had got to after taking his eye off of him for two seconds. For someone with such vibrant natural colouring, John was unfairly good at the vanishing act.

He sighed and settled back against the window pane more comfortably. At least John was old enough now to look after himself if he did vanish, and would always come home eventually - even if it was only a necessary stop on his way back to Thunderbird Five and the stars while he recuperated from socialising. It was a marked improvement from when he’d vanish as a child and leave everyone in a panic until he reappeared hours later.

Scott had never quite shaken the instinct to panic when he vanished, no matter how old and self-sufficient his brother was now.

“I can hear you thinking from here,” John said suddenly, and Scott glanced up at him again. He was still watching the rain out the window, seemingly disinterested in paying any attention to his older brother - aside from the comment, which made it perfectly clear that John was, in fact, keeping track of him with at least part of that big brain of his. “I told you I’m fine.”

“I know you are,” he assured him, feeling the cool of the glass seep towards his scalp from where he was resting his head against the window.

John gave a considering hum. “In that case, I’ll assume you’re working yourself into a panic unnecessarily.”

Scott huffed, unwilling to concede the point. “I am not working myself into a panic,” he retorted, a little defensively.

His brother finally turned his head away from the window slightly, enough for one turquoise eye to come into view. The accompanying ginger eyebrow rose in challenging disbelief and Scott scowled in response.

“I was just thinking about all the vanishing acts you tend to pull at things like this,” he admitted after a moment. The visible turquoise eye rolled at him before John turned back to face the window. He didn’t say anything in response, but he didn’t need to; his body language broadcasted perfectly well that he thought Scott was being an idiot.

Scott was used to that attitude - none of his brothers ever seemed to fully appreciate what it was like to be their big brother, after all. Gordon might proudly claim that his grey hairs were all down to his fish of a brother, but the truth of the matter was that they’d all contributed.

Still, Scott wouldn’t change any of them for the world.

Raindrops raced down the large window, merging and lingering and swallowing smaller ones before darting several inches further down in a blink of an eye. It was a mesmerising sight; no wonder John was so captivated by the weather.

Then again, he didn’t get rain in space.

Scott was on his feet before his mind caught up. His movement caught John’s attention, judging by the way the single, turquoise eye reappeared to regard him once more.

“Going back already?” his brother asked. “I thought you were hiding from the discussions about your eligible bachelorship.” There was no sympathy at all in John’s voice, just an undercurrent of amusement. Scott suspected he wouldn’t be hearing the end of it for a while.

“No,” he said truthfully, which was apparently unexpected enough for John to look away from the window completely.

“Then where are you going?” his brother asked. John was normally far too perceptive for Scott’s liking, and he probably shouldn’t be relishing catching him out as much as he was.

“Come on,” Scott invited in answer, tilting his head towards the window. “Let’s go.”

John glanced back towards the window, raising an eyebrow at the rain still falling. “You want to go outside?”

“Why not?” Scott shrugged. “No-one’s going to chase us out there.”

“Because their clothes would get ruined,” John pointed out. “Like ours will.”

Scott rolled his eyes. He wasn’t so attached to the suit he was currently wearing that he’d mourn the loss, and he knew John felt similarly about his own formal clothes.

“They’re replaceable,” he pointed out. “So, are you coming?”

John’s arguments didn’t fool him one bit - one thing his brother truly missed when he was amongst the stars was the cool sensation of rain on his skin, and Scott suspected that the only reason he’d been sat in the bay window instead of somewhere in the Creighton-Ward’s impressive grounds was because he’d known Scott would come looking for him sooner or later, and would have panicked if he couldn’t find him.

Sure enough, with one last sigh that was entirely put-upon, John extended his long legs and made his way to his feet. “Lead the way.”

Scott wasn’t as familiar with the manor as his brother, but he had a pretty good idea where most of the external doors were. John stayed at his shoulder as they passed through the hallways, bereft of any of the other guests, who were all no doubt still gossiping in the ballroom, and found a door that led outside.

The rain wasn’t a monsoon, but it was steady, leaving the sky heavy and grey, and misting out the trees on the far edge of the lawn. Scott lingered in the threshold of the door for a moment, watching the weather, but his brother had no such hesitation.

A little brother he might be, but John had never needed Scott to lead the way. With the assurance that Scott now knew where he was, and wouldn’t be hunting him down frantically, he strode out past him, the fabric covering his shoulder just brushing Scott’s, and out into the rain.

Scott lingered a moment longer, watching the way John tilted his face up slightly to greet the rain, the ginger curl of his bangs losing some of its volume as it dampened. John didn’t beam like their brothers when he was happy, but there was a relaxation in his face and a draining of tension in his body that told Scott that he’d got it right. John really had wanted to go out in the rain.

When his brother’s vibrant eyes slid closed, he took the final step outside himself, feeling the cool raindrops caressing his own skin and seeping into his hair. His hair gel was going to wash out if he stayed out here for too long, but that was a small price to pay to see John enjoying himself down on Earth.

So was the suit. The already black fabric of his jacket darkened even further with water almost immediately, and he knew that by the time John was ready to go inside again, it would be completely ruined. As he’d said to his brother, though, the suits were replaceable.

John’s happiness was not. Scott would ruin a hundred jackets if it meant seeing John so relaxed and content.

Jacketless, his brother’s shirt was quickly becoming soaked through, the white material clinging to his body - the same way his vibrant hair was starting to plaster to his scalp - gaining hints of translucency, and the thought crossed Scott’s mind that he’d have to make sure John didn’t get sick later. The astronaut didn’t seem to care about that, though, standing stock still for several minutes with his hands loosely hanging by his side and his face tilted upwards.

Scott hung back, several paces away but still outside in the rain himself. Cool droplets trickled down the back of his neck, originating somewhere around his hairline, and he could tell even without raising a hand to check that his own hair was plastering itself to his scalp in much the same way as John’s. One droplet ran down from his forehead and caught the corner of his eye, tangled up in eyelashes, and Scott blinked twice to clear it. Reluctantly it got the message and carried on down his face, running over his cheek and trailing down towards his chin.

They didn’t get rain like this at home. English rain was strange, and definitely nothing like the tropical rains Tracy Island witnessed. Even Kansas weather had been different to this. The water was cool and refreshing on his skin, and after several moments Scott took another couple of steps forwards, towards his brother.

He didn’t enter his personal space, though. If John wanted him there, he would make it clear - most likely by moving himself until he was within arm’s reach of Scott. As they’d come out here to escape the crowds, however, Scott deemed that unlikely. Instead, he wandered past him, away from the manor and large ballroom windows. If the wrong person looked out and saw them, their little rainy peace would be broken by someone else who cared less for their clothes than chasing Tracys.

Scott made sure to keep John in view, not prepared to hunt his brother down if the ginger pulled another disappearing act, even as he found a lone tree standing proud in the middle of the manicured lawn and slipped around it, allowing the trunk to conceal him from anyone glancing outside.

Exactly what type of tree it was, he didn’t know, but it was large and broad, boughs extending out above his head and providing a meagre shelter from the rain. It was the same as the trees that made up the woodland at the far edge of the lawn - also large and proud, but with enough space between some of them to hide a Thunderbird. His own ‘bird lurked inside, concealed from view and waiting to carry the two of them back home the next morning.

Tonight, Lady Penelope had insisted, they would stay with her, and Scott had no reason to decline. He did, however, hope that it was an invitation that hadn’t been extended to any of the other guests. Evading their apparent fixation with his marriage status - or lack thereof - was not something he wanted to have to spend all night and breakfast doing as well.

No matter how amused John might be at the whole affair.

Speaking of John, his brother appeared to have noticed that he’d moved, because he’d opened his eyes and started moving forwards himself.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one hiding from the party,” the ginger commented, his voice dry and at odds with the wet shirt he was wearing. The white had gone well and truly translucent now, clinging to his body in a way that Scott knew from experience would get John hounded by half the party the next time they saw him.

He made a mental note to sacrifice his jacket in John’s direction before they went back in. It wouldn’t be a perfect fit, but it would at least keep the attention off of him long enough for John to scrounge up a change of clothes.

“Yeah, well,” he replied, shrugging. “It wouldn’t matter which of us was hiding if they spotted the other, would it?”

John let out a small chuckle in response, rounding the tree in its entirety and therefore putting himself out of sight as well. “Are you sure it’s not just because you don’t want them badgering you about being single?”

He huffed in response, crossing his arms and leaning back against the trunk. The bark rubbed against the back of his jacket, but he ignored it. The rain had already done enough damage - what was a little more?

“My relationship status is none of their business,” he grumbled, shooting his younger brother a considering look. “Wait until they start on you.”

The smirk he got in return didn’t make him feel any better.

“They won’t give me a second glance while you’re around, big brother,” John pointed out with the air of someone who knew exactly what was up, and was quietly smug about it. “No-one’s interested in the spare Tracy.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “You know, technically you’re my heir,” he reminded him. It did nothing to douse the smug smirk his brother was sending his way.

“They don’t think like that,” John shrugged confidently. He was still out from underneath the protection of the boughs, rain falling on his skin and leaving trails of water across it. Scott watched a raindrop run right to the tip of his nose and hang there; the astronaut didn’t even seem to notice, even though it made Scott’s own nose twitch empathetically. “The only heirs they’re interested in are the unborn ones you don’t have because you’re still an eligible bachelor.”

Urgh. Scott pulled a face. “Did you have to put it like that?”

John’s ongoing smirk confirmed that yes, he did have to phrase it like that. Little brothers - who wanted them?

Scott refused to give John any satisfaction by saying that out loud, although he suspected that didn’t actually matter. If there was anyone who had mastered the art of mind-reading, Scott would put John right at the top of the suspect list.

“Well,” John said after a moment, shifting his weight. “I’m going to go for a walk. Are you coming, or would you rather hide under the tree?”

“I’m sheltering,” Scott corrected. John made an uh huh noise in the back of his throat which he purposefully ignored. Still, if John was offering company, instead of retreating into his own personal space, then Scott wasn’t going to turn that down. The problem with John living in space was that he just didn’t get to see this particular little brother in person as much as he’d like.

He pushed off from the tree, straightening up and shoving his hands in his pockets as he took the couple of short steps back out into the rain. John hadn’t bothered to wait for him, and he had to jog a couple more paces before he was at his brother’s side.

It felt like the rain had got heavier, but the droplets were still cool and refreshing on his face, even if he could feel his hair wilting under the weight. Beside him, John’s hair had all but lost its usual curl, vibrant strands of ginger instead plastered to his forehead. His brother didn’t seem to care at all.

Despite inviting him along, John didn’t seem particularly inclined towards conversation as he picked his way across the expansive grounds of the Creighton-Ward manor. It was clear that this was far from his brother’s first time doing so; while Scott started getting a little turned around by all the identically pruned bushes and perfect flowerbeds, John continued unerringly as though it was his ridiculously large garden.

Not that Scott could really comment on the size of the Creighton-Ward estate when his own home consisted of an entire volcano. Both the ranch and the Kansas farm spanned equally large acreage; the Tracys had never been a stranger to calling huge swathes of land home.

John had easily spent enough time in this manor during his Oxford days to have the entire estate mapped out in that impressive brain of his. Scott resolved to never play hide and seek with him here.

The silence that hung between them was a comfortable one. On some levels, it was more touching and heartfelt than if John had wanted to talk - John was a huge fan of personal space, and being invited to share it, trusted to share it, when he had so clearly hit his socialising quota already was akin to an honour.

Rain continued to fall, Scott’s jacket feeling more and more sodden by the minute, but John never headed for anything remotely resembling shelter. The weather wasn’t particularly warm, either. By English standards it might have been passable, but being used to the tropics meant that Scott found it decidedly on the cool side.

John seemed unaffected, but then again John spent most of his time in a rigidly controlled environment and hated the heat. Scott still hoped he’d be able to persuade Parker to get them both a hot drink when they re-entered the manor building. Then again, he wouldn’t put it past the older man to bundle them straight to their rooms with layers of blankets and disapproving mumbles. The former crook liked to pretend he was as tough as nails - and in some respects he was - but he was also quick to fuss over the few friends he had.

Being counted amongst that number was almost as high an honour as being invited to share John’s personal bubble.

Sunbeams poked out from behind the grey clouds as they were strolling through one of several rose gardens - or maybe it was the same one and John had led them around in circles a few times. In answer, the rain faded away into nothing and the world hung, heavy and still. John stopped walking, and Scott followed suit.

Above them, the clouds were dispersing. It seemed that the rain was over, at least for now, although the world around them shimmered a little like crystal as sun caught beads of water clinging to the flowers, the grass, the trees. John glistened as well, his hair transformed into a burning halo as the sun caught the water plastering it to his scalp.

Hands in his pockets and face once again tilted to the sky, Scott’s little brother appeared to be considering something. What, there was no point asking. If John wanted him to be part of the decision making process, he’d say so. Scott suspected he was debating if he wanted to stay outside or duck inside the manor to escape the reappearing sun.

John missed the rain on Thunderbird Five. He did not miss the sunburn.

Sure enough, after a moment his brother turned to face him.

“I’m heading back inside,” John said. “Are you done hiding from your eligible bachelorness yet or are you going to stay out here?”

Scott huffed at him, narrowing his eyes in displeasure at the jab. John really wasn’t going to be letting that go any time soon.

“They’ll have moved topics by now,” he replied, a lot more confidently than he felt. In all honesty, he had no idea how long it would be the hot topic for, but if he stayed out later than John he’d never live it down.

“That topic won’t be dropped until you’re married with kids,” his brother pointed out. Scott scowled. “But if you’re sure you’re ready to go back in…” He trailed off meaningfully and, without waiting for Scott, started striding back towards the manor.

Not wanting to let his brother out of his sight, and maybe a little unsure of the paths back, Scott lengthened his stride to catch up with him again. Turquoise eyes glanced sideways at him, and John’s face settled into subtle amusement.

Scott decided it was best for his pride if he didn’t ask what was funny.

He glanced up at the sky as they walked. The shimmer of moisture in the air was fading as the sun grew stronger and the clouds continued on their merry way to deposit rain on some other part of the English countryside. It wouldn’t be raining again just yet.

His foot caught something hard and he stumbled. Instantly a vice-like grip appeared on his arm, yanking him back upright and steadying him.

“And you call me the clumsy one,” John commented lightly. “Watch where you’re walking.”

Scott glared down at the flowerbed border he’d apparently walked into before switching targets to his brother. John, as always, seemed completely unperturbed at the look. Turquoise eyes looked him up and down, clearly making sure he hadn’t somehow hurt himself with his stumble, before the grip on his arm vanished and John continued down the path.

Sending another glare at the border, Scott followed.

Being behind John quickly brought back the reason why he’d been checking the sky. While the rain had stopped, the white shirt his brother was wearing was still very soaked through, with the consequences of that on full display. Scott shrugged out of his own, soaking wet, jacket.

“John,” he called, lengthening his strides to catch up. His brother paused and turned back to look at him quizzically, jumping as Scott draped the waterlogged jacket over his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” the astronaut asked, making to shrug the fabric off. “Carry your own jacket, Scott.”

Scott caught the fabric before it could fall to the ground. “John, you’re wearing a white shirt.”

A single eyebrow raised. “Your observational skills are unparalleled.”

Little brothers. Scott huffed. “And yours are lacking,” he retorted. “You wore a white shirt in the rain.”

John looked at him, puzzled, for a moment, before comprehension dawned across his face. A quick glance down had his pale skin reddening slightly.

“Oh.”

Scott shook his head fondly and draped the jacket around his brother’s shoulders again. This time it was gratefully accepted. They weren’t quite the same size, but Scott’s shoulders were the broader of the two, so while the fabric bunched a little oddly when John threaded his arms through the sleeves and fumbled the buttons until it was concealing as much of the wet white shirt as possible, it did at least fit. Scott was grateful it wasn’t Virgil.

“You might want to go and get changed into something dry,” he suggested. “Get out of those clothes.”

“I didn’t bring a spare suit,” John reminded him. “I don’t have anything else with me suitable for Lady P’s party.”

Scott rolled his eyes and started walking again. “Then just don’t come back to the party,” he said bluntly. “That’s not exactly a tragedy for you. You can see Lady Penelope again once it’s over - she won’t care what you’re wearing.”

“She will care,” John corrected, catching up to him. “She’ll judge my outfit and everything.” Despite the words being ones of apparent complaint, he didn’t actually seem that bothered about it. Then again, he had survived going to university with the woman. Their friendship was on a completely different level compared to the one the rest of the Tracys shared with her.

“Just go and get yourself out of those wet clothes and make yourself comfortable for the rest of the evening,” Scott sighed. “I’ll make your excuses.”

“If I need to get changed, why don’t you?” John challenged. Scott grinned at him and tapped his own shirt.

“Not white,” he pointed out. Well, admittedly, he would call it white, but according to Virgil it was cream, and according to the weather that combined with the covering jacket meant that it hadn’t gone the same way as John’s white shirt. “Ergo, still appropriate for polite company.”

John scrutinised him for several moments as they walked, as though he was trying to find an excuse why Scott’s outfit wasn’t appropriate any more.

“You’ll get sick if you stay in wet clothes too long,” he said eventually. “Make sure you come up and get changed soon.”

“I don’t have a spare suit, either,” Scott admitted. “I’ll be fine.” It couldn’t be that many more hours before the end of the party, surely…

“If you’re not up in half an hour I’m sending Parker to extract you,” John said firmly. “Virgil will have both our hides if you go home sick.”

“Half an hour?” Scott repeated. “I’ll be lucky to talk to Lady Penelope by then. You’ll have to give me longer than that.” There was no point telling John not to enlist Parker at all - his brother would hum non-committedly then do it anyway the instant he was out of earshot.

John scoffed. “You’ll find a way,” he said confidently. “Just flirt your way through the crowds like you normally do. Half an hour, then Parker will get involved.”

They’d arrived back at the manor itself, and John sent him one last smug grin before vanishing up what had to be a servant’s staircase before Scott could try another attempt to bargain for more time. With a quiet groan, Scott adjusted his damp tie and headed back towards the ballroom.

His wet - and likely bedraggled - appearance caused a stir when he re-entered the room. Conversations stopped, eyes stared, and then the whispering started. Well, he’d take them talking about him over attempts to restart the conversations about his relationship status.

He scanned the room for the tell-tale flash of pink, locating Lady Penelope just before she came to a stop in front of him.

“I was under the impression you were looking for John, not trying to impersonate a drowned rat,” the Lady commented lightly. “You also appear to have misplaced your jacket, Scott.”

He shrugged lazily. “John wanted to go outside.”

“I see.” From the fond look that flickered in her eyes, she probably did get it. The British aristocrat was the closest thing John had to a best friend, after all. “And where is John now?”

“Retiring for the evening,” Scott explained. “Or at least until the party’s over and the stars are out.”

Lady Penelope laughed a little at that. “I shouldn’t be surprised,” she agreed. “And what about you? I notice today’s main topic of discussion isn’t to your liking.” There was a twinkle of amusement in her eyes that was entirely too similar to John’s reaction.

Scott decided the best thing to do was ignore it.

“I should get changed,” he admitted. “I’ll see you after the party’s over?”

“I dare say you should,” Lady Penelope agreed, “before you turn my ballroom into a swimming pool. Very well, I’ll see you boys later.” She turned away, and immediately got caught in another conversation with a guest.

Scott took the opportunity to duck back out of the room, evading anyone who might want to corner him for further conversations that he really didn’t care for.

Parker was standing just outside the door.

“Ah, there you h’are,” the butler said as Scott narrowly avoided walking into him. “h’I h’understand you’re done for the h’evening?”

Scott checked his watch. “There’s no way it’s been half an hour already,” he said suspiciously.

“‘alf h’an hour since when?” Parker asked innocently. “Master John said nothing h’about h’a time limit.” No, of course John didn’t. Pesky little brother. “Well, h’as you h’appear to be trying to turn h’into a drowned rat, h’I’d say you need a nice warm drink h’and a change h’of clothes.”

“That’s the plan,” Scott admitted. “I’ll see you later, Parker.”

“That you will,” the older man agreed, and Scott paused with his foot on the bottom step of the staircase. “h’I’ll be bringing h’up some ‘ot chocolate for the pair h’of you in a few minutes. ‘Onestly, what were you thinking, going h’out h’in the rain like that?”

Scott shrugged. “John wanted to,” he said, before resuming his ascent of the staircase, knowing that Parker would make good on his promise and be up soon with the drinks.

The Creighton-Ward manor was huge, and the guest suites were equally so. There was no sharing of bedrooms when they stayed overnight, but as Scott entered the room designated as his, he discovered a brother lounging on his bed, tablet in hand. Ginger hair was ruffled and sticking up all over the place - a clear victim of a towel drying - and the soaked suit had been replaced by a much less formal shirt and jeans.

“Don’t you have your own room?” he asked, not breaking his stride as he headed for his overnight bag and pulled out a change of clothes.

“Parker’s bringing the drinks here,” John replied, not looking up from whatever it was he was reading. “It makes more sense for me to be here.” Scott huffed and worked his tie loose from around his neck.

“You just wanted to make sure I didn’t stay in the party,” he accused.

John didn’t deny it, and Scott rolled his eyes before heading into the ensuite to dry off and get changed into his more casual clothes. No more formal suit and tie for him tonight.

When he re-emerged several minutes later, his own hair rivalling John’s for towel-dried mess and begging for another round of brushing and hair gel, Parker had arrived with the promised steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

“Drink up, the both of you,” the man demanded. “Going h’out in the rain like that, I h’ask you.” He shook his head despairingly. “What will your Gran say h’if you go and get yourself sick?”

“We won’t get sick, Parker,” Scott said confidently, accepting his mug and letting the warmth seep from the ceramic into his fingers. “We didn’t get that wet.”

“Don’t h’underestimate the English weather,” Parker warned. “Drink that h’up and wrap h’up warm.”

John appeared silently at his elbow and claimed his own mug before retreating back to the bed. Scott watched him burrow his bare feet under the covers and huffed.

“That’s my bed, you know,” he complained. John lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

“So?”

“So, leave some room for me.” Mug in hand, Scott settled himself next to his brother, nudging him over gently. John obliged, and after a few moments of shifting around, the pair of them were sat shoulder to shoulder with their feet under the covers.

Parker eyed them approvingly, and then tossed a blanket over their laps as well.

“h’I’ll be back once the party’s h’over,” he told them. “Keep warm.”

“We’ll be fine,” Scott assured him. “You don’t need to worry about us.”

Blue eyes surveyed him suspiciously. “h’I know some people that’d disagree with that h’assessment, Mr Scott. But duty calls, h’I suppose.”

Parker was clearly reluctant to leave them for some reason, but he did begrudgingly go out the door, shutting it behind him and leaving the two brothers to their drinks.

The hot chocolate was, unsurprisingly, good, and Scott found himself draining the mug in record time. Beside him, John was almost as fast, and they set the mugs down on the bedside tables almost in unison.

“Parker makes the best hot chocolate,” John commented, and Scott couldn’t help but agree.

“He does,” he agreed. “I could go for another.”

“Well, then, I’m glad I finished mine before you got it into your head to steal it,” John said dryly. “You can ask him for another one later.”

“Yeah,” Scott said, leaning back against the headboard of the bed. “I might do that. This might all be overkill-” he gestured at the warm mugs and the blanket, subtly tucking them in the bed “-but even if we’re not going to get sick, that chocolate is worth it.”

The sneeze came out of nowhere. As did the second, and the third.

The fourth sneeze came from his brother, and Scott glanced over at him with a sinking feeling. Bright turquoise met his eyes, and John gave a wane smile before sneezing again.

“I think,” his brother said, before being interrupted by another sneeze, “that maybe this wasn’t so overkill after all.”

Scott buried his face in his hands. It did nothing to stop the next sneeze, and he groaned.

“You might be right,” he admitted. “Dammit. Virgil’s going to- achoo -kill us.”

John groaned.

#tag mini bang 2021 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari write fanfiction #scott tracy #john tracy #lady penelope creighton-ward #aloysius parker #a little fall of rain #thunderfluff

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night-fallz · 4 years ago

Text

It's getting better . . . right?

A (very) brief look into how Damian’s life with the League was.

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

Ao3 // Wattpad

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I'm confused (Part 3)

Damian wanted to spend the whole afternoon in the shower. He wanted to forget everything.

He needed a break.

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions for him. Everything was so confusing.

It was too much.

Although his brothers were becoming more tolerant towards him. It still felt forced.

And to make it worse, things were only getting worse at school.

Today was a good example of that.

His peers usually ridiculed him in private. Somewhere they couldn’t get caught.

They’ve never mocked him in such a public space before. Especially not a public space where adults could return at any time.

It was different.

Damian hates how he allows his mind to wonder how the outcome might’ve been different. If the librarian walked in on what they were doing to Damian, would she have tried to stop it?

Or would she just turn a blind eye?

He hoped that it wasn’t the latter. The librarian was one of the only adults in the facility that Damian could somewhat tolerate.

Out of nowhere, he felt the water become hotter and cursed.

It felt like he was back in the League and they were throwing lava at him again. He was supposed to learn two lessons during that exercise.

One: Learn how to withstand the heat.

If Damian could survive being pelted with lava, he could survive or at least tolerate any high temperature.

And if he got gravely injured or didn’t survive during the lesson? Well, there’s a reason that they had the Lazarus pit.

Any burns or scars that Damian had would dissolve. As if they never existed. It was the one thing he liked about the pit.

Without it, Damian’s whole body would be littered with scars. From the intense training sessions, he’s gone through to the punishments that he has suffered from. Scars were something that he was accustomed to.

Two: Learn how to dodge

If he didn’t want his skin to burnt because of the lava, then he better evade the numerous attacks. It didn’t matter if Damian got hit: there was a sequence on how they launched it. And they wouldn’t stop until all the gallons of lava were empty.

All the injuries that Damian received during that training session might’ve brought him a lot of pain, but it worked.

In the end, Damian believes that the torment that he had gone through was worth it because he had acquired something from it.

He could only hope that it would be the same here.

—————————————————————

Getting out of the shower was harder than Damian thought it would be. He had quickly gotten used to the boiling drops that crashed onto his skin and instantly accepted the pain.

He deserved it after all.

After a few minutes of staring at his sunken reflection, he forced himself to go back to his room.

He didn’t expect to see his siblings lounging around like they owned the place.

Damian hesitated, not knowing what to do.

“Do you guys require my assistance?”

All three heads immediately turned towards him and Grayson’s smile brightened.

“Hey baby-bat.” he greeted, “Any plans today?”

Why do they keep asking that? What do they want from me?

Damian slowly nodded, “Actually,” he lied. “I do.”

The dark-headed trio glanced at each other and Todd raised an eyebrow, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He wants to stay home.

“So you aren’t lying?”

He is.

Damian forced a scowl on his face, “No, I’m not.”

The older bat kept pushing, “Are you positive?”

Damian kept a straight face, trying not to let his annoyance show. “Definitely,” he walked forward avoiding the spots where his brothers resided, and crossed his arms. “You guys can leave now.”

Drake walked towards him and Damian had to force himself not to flinch.

Please don’t punish me. I didn’t do anything wrong.

“So you wouldn’t mind telling us what your plans are?”

Damian raised an eyebrow, “I don’t need to tell you anything. It’s none of your business.”

Why can’t they just leave me alone?

“We just want to get to know you better, baby-bat.” Grayson gently assured. “You’ve been here for around a year and we barely know you.”

Damian tutted, “And who’s fault is that exactly?”

His. It was his fault.

Damian knew that it was his fault that no one wanted to get to know him. He was the unwanted one. The one no one expected.

He was an Al Ghul.

A murderer.

He has so much blood in between his fingers and he hasn’t even reached the age of eighteen.

Drake scoffed, “You didn’t exactly make it easy for us to get to know you.”

Of course, he’s right. Drake is always right.

“And am I supposed to care about that?” Damian retorted, “I don’t need plebeians like you to understand me. People like you aren’t-”

“Damian.” Grayson’s stern voice cut through the room like a whip. “Enough.”

“But he was- I didn’t-“ Damian’s voice sounded pitiful in his ears. “Drake was the one who started it.”

The teen scowled at him, narrowing his eyes at Damian. “Why am I not surprised that you’re shifting the blame to me?”

“I’m not shifting the blame towards anyone!” Damian screamed in frustration, trying to get his brothers to understand. “I'm telling the truth!”

The emotions that trashed inside of him for weeks have finally begun to still. As if even they’ve grown tired of trying to figure everything out.

Nothing made sense anymore.

One moment, his brother would act like how his mother would describe a family. Caring, loyal, and loving.

Then the next, they would remind Damian of how the League treated him. Cold, worthless, and unworthy.

Weren’t they supposed to be the good guys?

“What’s going on here?”

Damian turned and saw his father’s muscular frame towering over the door. The tone of his voice was calm, but Damian could see how his blue eyes seemed to rage, demanding for answers.

Damian forced his face to become neutral as he tried to explain the situation. “Father, I was ju-”

“You know, the usual.” Drake interrupted him, “The demon child acting like a brat, throwing his weight around like he owns the place.”

“I was not-”

“Damian.” his father’s voice was coated in the familiar intonation that Damian could never recognize. Was it disgust? Annoyance? Anger? A mix of all? “We’ve talked about this.”

No, they haven’t.

His father barely acknowledged Damian unless he was reporting a mission, or if he did something wrong. Sadly, it was mostly the latter.

If it wasn’t for all the training that Damian’s received, he would’ve flinched from the way his father looked at him. His gaze was filled with disgust. As if Damian was nothing but a piece of gum stuck in his shoe that he couldn’t remove.

As if he was a burden.

But isn’t that what he was?

His father gave him a final glance, “I’m benching you from being Robin until we get this attitude of yours under control.”

He heard someone mutter an “If that’s even possible.”

When Damian heard his father’s footsteps become inaudible, he forced his head up.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Grayson dragging Drake out of Damian’s room. When their eyes met, the oldest Wayne only sighed before shaking his head at Damian.

He knew Grayson well enough to know what his I-am-very-disappointed-in-you looked like.

“You should apologize.”

“What?”

“Apologize,” Todd slowly repeated, as if he was talking to a child. “You should apologize to Tim.”

“Why would I need to apologize for something that wasn’t my fault.”

Todd shut his eyes and clenched his fists before walking past Damian, muttering to himself.

“I knew we shouldn’t-”

“-bothered to try.”

“-deserved everything that happened-”

That was the last thing Damian heard before he heard his door slam shut.

Suddenly, the events of the night have finally plummeted itself towards Damian’s head.

No more Robin.

Damian felt his chest tighten and his heart seemed to race at speeds that could rival the Flash. Everything around began to spin and he couldn’t help but let out a small, frightened breath.

What was wrong with him?

His feet seemed to tremble and he fell on the floor. The room began to heat up.

The sun was against him. It was like all it wanted to do was burn Damian’s skin until there was nothing left.

Was he sweating?

Damian was definitely sweating. Why was he sweating? It’s the middle of Winter.

He couldn’t breathe.

Is he going to die?

He didn’t even get a chance to prove himself to his father.

Though, his mind couldn’t help but contemplate the possible scenarios of when they find him in the middle of his room, dead.

Would his father cry? Or would he just be relieved? Relieved at the fact that he didn’t have to watch over Damian anymore. Would they be happy that the Wayne family was finally back to being normal? Now that the smudge of brown was gone from their picture-perfect portrait.

“Calm down.” He heard a calming voice mutter, “Deep breaths.”

“Ummi?” Damian’s voice sounded muffled as his vision began to fade into the darkness, “Are you taking me home?”

A silhouette bent down to give Damian an embrace.

He didn’t feel anything but he still heard his ummi’s voice. “Deep breaths,” she repeated.

Damian forced himself to focus on the light as he followed the instructions. He couldn’t fail his ummi. She was the only one who ever loved him for him.

Out

His head began to ease up. The pain was slowly going away.

Out

He could feel his legs, it no longer felt like a mountain was on top of them.

Out

His vision slowly cleared up. He could see shapes begin to form as the light steadily took over the darkness.

He was going to be okay.

“Ummi?” his voice cracked.

There wasn’t anyone there.

He felt tears form on the corner of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

If he cried, it meant that Damian was weak. That he was useless. And he wasn’t.

Right?

His brothers probably hate him again because of his stupid little outburst. He was so stupid.

His father banned him from being Robin, so he probably won’t be able to see his teammates for the time being.

Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut?

He was all alone again.

He didn’t have enough energy to move to his bed, so he hugged his knees closer to his chest as he tried his hardest to keep his tears at bay.

Everything was back to normal.

Note:

(Damian’s emotions have been building up for quite a while now. He’s confused and frustrated. A dangerous combination for someone who wasn’t allowed to express how he felt throughout the beginning of his life.

And from my experience, it’s the smallest things that just make a person break. So when Damian was blamed for something that wasn’t his fault, he just lashed out.

Sorry for the lack of updates from the past two weeks. School sucks. It’s like my teachers barely give me any work throughout the school year just so they could dump everything in May.

Hopefully, this chapter didn’t disappoint you guys too badly. And if it did, give me some nice constructive criticism in the comments. I love reading them, no matter how harsh.)

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