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saiilorstars · 8 months ago

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Ch. 60: The Waiting Game

Previous chapters // Montserrat’s masterlist

Fandom: SVU // Pairing: Rafael Barba x OC

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

Taglist: @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @averyhotchner @abzidabzy @hellofutur @foxesandmagic @xovalliegirlxo @sam-i–am @kmc1989 @midmourn @choosejoyangel

[If you’d like to be added to this specific OC’s stories/edits, send me a message

When Montserrat woke up from her Nyquill-induced nap, she very quickly realized she slept way more hours than she intended to. It was past noon, almost four. Granted she was truly well rested but that was not the point. She still felt mentally exhausted and wasn't equipped for what had to come next. She had to finally call Lucia and tell her what happened — it was the worst conversation she ever had with the woman. Lucia was livid with Montserrat, to say the least.

"How could you not tell me before!? Why are you barely telling me!?"

Montserrat could barely give her reasons when Lucia went on a rampage in the Spanish and English language to the point where Montserrat couldn't dream of understanding. The only thing Montserrat managed to hear was that Lucia was on her way to the hospital and pretty much cut all ties with his son's girlfriend.

Great. That would be fun explaining to Rafael when he woke up. It was definitely about the last thing he needed in his life right now. After that, Montserrat soon found out that somehow Casey had gotten involved with the whole thing.

"Yeah, that was my fault," Kara said with a hand raised in the air. "I suggested it."

"Why?" Montserrat couldn't understand what a robbery had to do with her cousin at the moment. Then again, she was only really thinking with about a 50% capacity.

Kara understood her mistake too late and was left squandering for a reasonable excuse (otherwise this time Sonny would have a true reason to kill her). "Well, uh, Casey's another prosecutor and she'll maybe take the case? If they find the guy?"

"It's just not her case yet," Montserrat insisted, although it seemed like the heat was now going more towards the situation rather than Kara (or Casey for that matter). "Nobody's been murdered."

"And it'll stay like that," Kara jumped on the chance to provide actual support to her friend. It was hard thinking this could turn into a homicide case rather than attempted murder. "You'll see."

Montserrat would've been more convinced if she didn't have other things on her mind. She kept getting voice-mail for Lucia's number, only reiterating how angry the woman was with her.

"She'll come around," Kara kept insisting as well, "She's stunned, like you were when you first got the call. It's just different. She's his mother, after all. Give her some days."

Montserrat nodded only because there was nothing else she could do, but it didn't mean it wasn't nagging at her in the meantime. "I need to go back to the hospital," she told Kara after lunch. She did Kara the solid of sticking around for that mealtime but it was about all she would do now. She'd been away from the hospital for way too long.

"What are you talking about? It's only been a couple hours," Kara pointed out. She would rather Montserrat stay for a bit more until she was less anxious and stressed.

"It's past noon now!"

"So?" Kara would love to hear an adequate reason why the time even mattered. "Montserrat, you need to rest."

"I already did!" Montserrat exclaimed. "Way more than I planned!"

Kara's eyes flickered to the side for a moment. The nyquil was still under wraps. Her phone started ringing and seeing it was Sonny, she urged Montserrat to wait for another 5 minutes. "Just let me take the call and see what's happened, okay?"

Montserrat groaned. "Fine! But I am leaving as soon as you're done, with or without you!"

Kara nodded and hurried to take the call. Montserrat took the first seconds to try and calm herself down. She didn't want to actually fight with Kara, not with anyone for that matter. They were all walking on eggshells around her already, thinking she was a ticking time bomb. It was hard staying afloat not knowing what the next day would bring, or even the next hour. Tears stung get eyes just thinking about the uncertainty.

Hearing the knock on the door somehow startled her greatly. She went to open it, presuming it would be Sonny on the other side only to find her father instead.

"Dad!" She gasped, stumbling back a step.

"Montserrat, how — woah! What's happened to you?" Thomas of course referred to his daughter's face of anguish.

Immediately, Montserrat whirled around, eyes wide as she took a few steps away from her father. She tried wiping her eyes quickly. "Dad, what are you doing here?"

"I got the day off and since it's been a while, I thought we could have lunch,, but..." Thomas trailed off, reaching forward for his daughter's shoulder. He gently turned her around and saw the same face as before, only this time it was slightly redder from the fervent rubbing at the eyes. "Now I'm seeing it's longer than I thought. Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Dad," Montserrat shook her father's hand off her shoulder. "Just a rough day, that's all."

"No, no, no," Thomas shook his head, "Don't try to kid me. I know you, Montserrat. You've been crying and it looks like it's been going on for a while. What's happened?"

"Nothing, sheesh!" Montserrat exclaimed. Of course she would've been more convincing if her voice hadn't shaken towards the end. How the hell am I a detective? "Look, I can't do lunch today. Can we schedule another day?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Thomas declared, crossing his arms, "It looks like you've got explaining to do, young lady."

Montserrat glared at her father. This was the last thing she needed right now. Despondence, anxiety, and anger mixed into one did not bode well for anybody in the room. "Dad, I don't have time for this. Can we do this another day, please?"

Thomas raised an eyebrow at his daughter. Usually it was all he needed to warn her she was crossing a line with him.

She still knew that.

But she didn't back down this time.

"You've got 5 seconds to tell me what's going on with you," Thomas warned. "Five…four…"

Montserrat gawked at her father with incredulity. "Dad, you can't treat me like I'm five—"

"Three…two—"

"Dad, seriously!"

"One—"

"I SAID STOP!" Montserrat unintentionally yelled at her father.

Thomas was dumbfounded with such a frantic reaction from his daughter. Tears were coming to Montserrat's eyes and though it was partially out of guilt, there was something deeper going on. "Montserrat," he tried again, softly, "Sweetheart, what's—"

"Can you just go? I'm actually leaving right now too," Montserrat gestured to the door behind Thomas. "I have to—"

"Montserrat!" Kara called from the hallway seconds before emerging. "Sonny says he'll be by in 15 and he can take us to the hospital."

"Hospital!?" Thomas exclaimed.

Kara's eyes widened. She had no idea they were no longer alone. "Oops…"

Montserrat let out a heavy sigh. "Dad—"

"Why do you need to go to the hospital!?" Thomas started demanding. "Are you hurt?" He went to check himself but Montserrat swatted his hands away.

"Dad, stop!"

"Why do you need to go!? Do you feel alright? What am I saying — it's obvious you're not feeling well! You've been crying!"

"She has," Kara agreed solemnly.

"KARA!" Montserrat said loudly enough to make Kara flinch. "SHUT UP!"

"Don't yell at Kara like that," Thomas reprimanded his daughter, "Answer my question. Why are you going to the hospital right now?"

"Because…" Montserrat racked her head for a good answer that wouldn't give away such a terrible situation.

"Are you hurt?"

"No!"

"Then why—"

"Oh, just stop!" Montserrat resorted to pleading, something downright shocking to her father. "Please! Just stop!" Tears rolled down her cheeks as the weight of each of her problems finally culminated into one heavy load on her shoulders. "I'm not hurt! At least not physically because trust me, everything else right now hurts! I'm going to the hospital because my boyfriend's there because he's been shot, okay!? He's been shot and he hasn't woken up since it happened and I want to be there when he does — if he does! Now please stop berating me and just—" Montserrat ran into her father's arms where she finally burst into tears.

Thomas was utterly stunned. For the first couple of seconds, nothing of what Montserrat said had sunk in so while she hugged him, his arms were awkwardly on either side of him. Eyes wide, mouth hanging open, he met Kara's gaze. She nodded to confirm everything Montserrat had said. Her grim expression helped sell it too.

"When...when did you get a boyfriend?" Thomas looked down at his daughter but at the question, Montserrat only whimpered and retreated further into him, desperate to be hugged back. Thomas slowly did so, bringing one hand over her back and the other behind her head. "O-okay, um…that's...that's...bad..." He sighed. He was terrible when it came to things like these. Montserrat's teenage years had been quite an adventure in terms of boyfriends and dating but now at 30? He didn't know which age was worse. "I'm—I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he ultimately said, "Really. I — how did this happen?"

Montserrat pulled away to take a deep breath. Her face was stained with tears. "A robbery. The guy was trying to rob the shop Rafael was at and then he just shot...he shot…"

Kara remained absolutely silent and lowered her head. It killed her to keep the truth of the situation a secret from Montserrat. But if she knew the truth, it would make her feel even worse, she reminded herself.

"Okay, okay," Thomas cupped Montserrat's face, "Wipe those tears. We can go to the hospital right now."

"You'd come with me?" Montserrat sniffed. "You're not mad I didn't tell you—"

"It does not matter right now," Thomas said, "Besides, you're a grown woman — as tough as that is to deal with — and you can make whatever choices you want."

"I was going to tell you. That's why I asked about having dinner, remember?"

Thomas nodded. "Yeah, and I told you I was going out on a trip for a whole month. Okay, that was my fault then."

"Dad, you would really like him. I mean, he's sort of a smart-ass but then again so is Gael."

Thomas let out a low laugh. "Oh, is it just Gael?"

"Of course, why do you ask?"

Thomas barely held his next laugh in. "Right." He gave Montserrat a kiss on the forehead. "Are you ready to go?"

Montserrat nodded fairly quickly. "Yes, please, let's go!"

"Kara?" Thomas looked at the blonde behind them.

Kara waved them off with a hand. "I'll wait for my boyfriend. He was already on his way. Plus, I think there'll be a lot of talking done on that drive."

Thomas wholeheartedly agreed with her. His eyes drifted over to Montserrat who had the energy to appear more nervous than before. "Ready?"

Montserrat wasn't so sure anymore. Still, a ride to the hospital meant she would practically do anything.

~0~

Thomas started slowly, cautiously, and for that Montserrat appreciated but it didn't make things any less awkward nor tense.

"Dating your co-worker — isn't that against the rules?" Thomas wondered out loud. He stopped at an upcoming red light, giving him the opportunity to glance at his daughter.

Her tear-stained face was finally getting a glimpse of light. She had stopped crying for the moment — she just needed to clean her face.

"Not if you disclose," she answered quietly, "Which we did."

"Ah, okay, um...when was that?"

"Dunno, two months ago? Time sort of blurred…"

"Time 'blurred'?" Thomas let out a small chuckle.

Montserrat glanced at him, eyebrows knitted together. "What?" Her voice couldn't go any louder than a quiet tone. If not, she would've demanded the explanation.

"Nothing...it's just...usually when you feel like time has 'blurred', it's because you've been having a good time," Thomas explained. At the green light, he was no longer able to look at her.

Maybe it was for the best.

Montserrat shifted in her seat. She was not about to go into detail about her relationship to her father. "It's been different," she left it at that. It wasn't a lie but it didn't outright expose her either.

Thomas hummed. "I can see that. I've never seen you so distressed over someone like this."

"To be fair, none of my other boyfriends have ever been shot."

Thomas let out a small laugh. "True, but I also meant in general. I've noticed you've been more, uh, content lately. Because I don't know what made you leave behind your old job and place in Queens, but I know that you haven't been happy in a while. I like the change."

"I'm sorry for that," Montserrat mumbled, eyes downcast. However painful it was for her, she imagined it had to have been hard for her father as well. She wasn't the kindest to him in the beginning. She did what a victim typically does: push people away. She thought she did it perfectly. She left her old friends in Queens, her job. She put distance between her father, her brother, even her nieces, and Kara. She became a good liar, indeed.

"I wasn't expecting an apology," Thomas clarified, "And I certainly didn't need one. I'm your father. I just want to know that you're okay."

Montserrat smiled lightly. "I can tell you that before all of this, I was more than okay."

Thomas nodded. "I believe it. You were...happier, more than I'd seen you in a very long time. I would love to say that you were your old self again but it still isn't like that."

"Dad, I don't think I'll ever be the same as before," Montserrat said, figuring it was best to shatter that dream right now than let it keep going without a future. "But that's okay because the way I felt before all this, it was damn great." Her breathlessness was enough to take her word for it. It sounded like even she couldn't believe it.

Truthfully, sometimes she still couldn't.

It took very little for Montserrat to become accustomed to the idea of always feeling miserable on the inside and overall like she was simply floating through life. She had resigned herself to the idea that it would always be like that from now on. But things changed again and she couldn't be more grateful. It would be beyond cruel to lose it all again. Actually, Montserrat couldn't see herself getting past it all over again if she lost Rafael.

"No more tears," came Thomas' voice.

Montserrat snapped out of her thoughts to find there were new tears rolling down her cheeks. "Sorry," she sniffed, wiping the tears off with the backs of her hands.

"No need to be," Thomas told her, "I'm so sorry this is happening, sweetie. But let's have some faith that it'll be okay in the end."

"To be honest Dad…" Montserrat let out a low sigh, "I don't really do the 'faith' thing a lot anymore."

Thomas nodded silently. It wasn't much of a surprise. "The things you see at your job can't leave much hope in the world, I know."

"Mhm," Montserrat nodded. She could let her father believe it was all because of her job. It would be easier for him that way.

"But in times like these...who do you turn to for strength?" Thomas asked curiously. "People pray to God, or other saints or something. What do you pray to?"

"Nothing," Montserrat admitted. It had been a very long time since she turned to any type of religious prayer. She was non-practicing Catholic at this point. Don't tell Lucia. "Right now, I just think about Rafael and how he's strong enough to come back. You should see him in action, Dad. If I were that guy who shot him, I'd run. I've been on the receiving end a couple times and Rafael doesn't play. And I've only gotten a small taste of the real thing. He's scary. Ask Kara."

Thomas let out a small laugh. "Knowing you, you probably kept it going."

Montserrat nodded. "Hell yeah. He's not right until I say he's right." She shifted in her seat. "Although right now, I'd give anything to hear his smart-ass remarks. An argument. Anything."

Thomas stretched a hand out until he was able to find Montserrat's. "It'll be okay."

Montserrat didn't say much after that. She couldn't wait to see the end of the drive and be at the hospital again. Nick had tried sending her messages but it didn't look like the service in the hospital was doing so well. All his texts were coming in as 'incoming message'. It left Montserrat even more anxious. What if something happened while she was away!?

She practically ran through the hospital, leaving her father to do his best to keep up. "Nick!?" She called as soon as she saw the man in the waiting room. "Your messages weren't coming through! Did something happen?"

"Yeah," Nick nodded, eyes flickering past Montserrat to her father.

"That's my Dad," Montserrat said dismissively. She had no times for introductions right now. "What happened!? Is Raf—"

"He's awake," Nick thankfully cut Montserrat off. He presumed that she had assumed the worst with his answer.

The relief that washed over Montserrat was monumental and yet so short-lived. Nick didn't understand why.

"I wasn't here," she whispered, eyes falling, "I wasn't here for him. God — I told you people I shouldn't have left!"

"Montserrat, you needed to rest," Nick said, "Besides, he woke up like 15 minutes ago. His mom's in there with him right now." Apparently, he'd something really bad because Montserrat's face had paled to a ghostly shade.

"What?" She asked, sounding like she'd lost air as well. "N-n-n-n-no, tell me she just got here too. Please."

"Uuh…" Nick was utterly confused but he still had to answer with the truth and it was not what Montserrat wanted to hear. "She got here an hour ago."

"Crap," Montserrat let out a heavy sigh.

"Montserrat, what's wrong?" Thomas asked her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You should be happy!"

"I am," Montserrat clarified, "But you don't understand. Lucia got very upset with me because I didn't call her immediately when this happened. I called her this morning instead because I thought there was no reason she should lose sleep when I was already here, waiting to hear how the surgery went. She didn't agree. She thought she should've been notified immediately."

"Okay, well, that was then, this is now. Things will change now that Rafael's awake. She was probably very scared too."

"I bet she was," Montserrat agreed, "But she's Rafael's mother. Where do you think he gets his temper from?"

Nobody would answer her. It was better to stay quiet and to help move things along, Olivia arrived shortly afterwards. She'd gotten the call from the doctors themselves as was protocol.

"Is he capable of answering?" She asked the two detectives.

"He might be too tired to remember things right now," Nick said, "I was with him for 10 minutes and he barely said anything about what happened."

"Maybe he doesn't want to talk about it," Montserrat said. "And he shouldn't if he's not ready."

Olivia nodded with her. "Yes, but it's worth asking, don't you think?"

The detective in Montserrat would make her agree but the civilian side of her made her shake her head. That was the part of her that wanted everyone to stay the hell away from Rafael until he was all better.

"There's his mom," Nick said when he saw Lucia emerging from the hallway.

Montserrat immediately pressed her clothes down as if Lucia were going to point them out and add to her fuel against Montserrat. She made herself front front center when Lucia joined them.

"How is he?" She immediately asked the older woman. "Is he — is he talking? Does anything hurt?"

"He had a bullet in his body so yes, he is in pain," Lucia answered sharply enough to have Montserrat wincing each time.

"Excuse me," Thomas cut in just as Montserrat was about to go on. He moved around Nick and Olivia to stand beside his daughter. "There's no need to be that kind of rude. You're both stressed and frightened."

"And who are you?" Lucia demanded, eyebrow raising.

"This is my father," Montserrat said hastily, truly wanting to avoid any kind of confrontation.

"Thomas Novak," Thomas introduced himself, "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't speak to my daughter like that."

Lucia didn't appreciate the tone used on her either. "Lucia Barba," she introduced herself in the same tone as Thomas, "And your daughter knows exactly why I'm upset." She crossed gazes with Montserrat.

"I'm sorry," Montserrat reiterated, sighing. "I didn't want you to go through a sleepless night. You nor Catalina."

"Don't take decisions that don't belong to you," Lucia retorted, "When it comes to my son, I need to be informed about everything that happens to him. I don't know why I didn't get the call in the first place. Do you?"

Montserrat lowered her head. She preferred not to answer for the moment.

"There's no need to argue," Olivia stepped in as well, "We all want the same thing, don't we? For Rafael to get better?"

"Of course," Lucia said incredulously. How dare they think otherwise?

"Okay," nodded Olivia, "Then I'd like to see him right now. I think Montserrat as well."

Montserrat nodded fervently. "I do," she said.

"Don't bother him with the unnecessary, please," Lucia warned as the two women started walking around her.

"I would never," Montserrat said sharply. "But I do want to catch whoever did this to him. And I will."

She followed Olivia down the hallway, preferring not to look back. She couldn't take whatever look Lucia must be giving her right now. She didn't have the head for it either.

"Montserrat," Olivia called twice before she was heard, "Forgive me for intruding but, have you taken some time for yourself with all this going on?"

"Are you kidding? I slept way more than I should have!" Montserrat exclaimed. "He woke up and I wasn't here!"

"I don't mean that," Olivia shook her head. "With this kind of stuff, I presume you would want to go see your therapist?"

"I don't have time for that!" Montserrat said dismissively. "I need to be here!"

Olivia suspected that mindset long before she got the courage to ask Montserrat. "It's important that you take care of yourself first. I'm sure Rafael would say the same thing."

It honestly didn't matter to Montserrat right now. She just wanted to reach the damn room herself and see with her own eyes that Rafael was awake. That's all she wanted. Olivia must have seen it because she didn't mention therapy again for the rest of the walk.

They didn't make a sound when they finally entered the room. If Rafael was really asleep, neither wanted to wake him. Questions would wait. But, as soon as they were in sight, Montserrat saw Rafael wide awake. He seemed a bit dazed but lucid enough to recognize them.

Montserrat forgot all about her conversation with Olivia and rushed forward. "Hii…" She said breathlessly, "You're still awake! You should be sleeping."

"I've done enough sleeping," Rafael muttered, sounding a lot more like himself than Montserrat (and Olivia) expected. He was definitely irritated enough to be himself.

Montserrat grinned widely at his response. She absolutely loved seeing him act like he usually would — it meant he was getting better! She reached for his hand, immediately gripping it. "I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up. I-I should've been, I know, but…"

Rafael watched Montserrat in a more dazed manner again — his mind went in and out with all the meds he was on.

This, Olivia presumed and since Montserrat seemed too upset with herself to notice, Olivia decided to cut in and help them both out. "Now, Montserrat, I think it's okay," she started slowly, watching Montserrat lower her head out of utter guilt, "You had to go home and rest too." Olivia looked at Rafael who was still trying to make sense of Montserrat's long ramble. "She was here all of last night and Carisi and Amaro and sent her home to sleep and eat."

"Well — why are you apologizing then?" Rafael glanced at Montserrat, eyebrows knitting together with confusion. "It's not like I noticed, right? I was in surgery. At least that's what my mother told me?"

"Is that all she told you?" Montserrat asked rather curiously and slightly worried. She grabbed a chair and sat down beside the bed.

"She said a lot of things but honestly, I tuned her out," Rafael drew in a breath, "The mess might be a blessing in disguise, you know."

"Ha…" Montserrat smiled lightly. That sounded a lot more like him. It truly relieved some of her anxiety. "Still, I'm really sorry. I did want to be here but I…I sort of overslept and…"

"I promise you that I am okay with that," Rafael said, smiling for the first time. "I don't want you forgetting about yourself because of me."

"I'm good, I promise," Montserrat assured, nodding her head fast. She brought their interlocked hands to her mouth, kissing his hand. "I just want you to be okay now. I've been a little crazy."

"A little?" Rafael's smile widened.

"Shut up," Montserrat said hushedly, letting out a small chuckle. She missed this so much. All the nerves were washing out as a familiar warmth flooded her insides.

At the same time, Olivia's phone started buzzing. "I'll be back," she told the two before taking the call.

Montserrat scooted her chair closer to the bed. She held onto Rafael's hand, still keeping her smile. This is all she wanted. Rafael was awake, seemingly recuperating and already taking jabs at her. In all her thoughts, she missed Rafael studying her. He noticed something he truly wished he hadn't. It led to his question.

"How are you?"

Montserrat blinked at first, puzzled with the question. "What — me?" She laughed. "Môj drahý, I'm fine. I'm absolutely fine."

"I'm on some strong medication but I assume you just spoke Slovak but even then…I don't buy it," Rafael said, shaking his head. "You went crazy over me."

"You were shot," Montserrat said, still frazzled having to say that. "What did you think I would do? Happily pass the night with your scotch?"

"Did you save me some, by the way?"

"Rafael," Montserrat warned him not to play jokes right now. "You were shot. It's not funny."

"Oh, I'm not laughing at that," agreed Rafael, "But I am trying to lighten the mood here. I don't want you to worry about me."

"Not right now," Montserrat shook her head, "Don't ask me not to do that when you're here. You have no idea how scared I was when I got the call."

"They called you…" Rafael said, as if realizing something.

"Um, yeah…" Montserrat cleared her throat, "Why did the hospital call me first? Your mother, uh, she was pretty pretty confused about that too."

"Yeah…" Rafael nodded, "Uh…I was going to tell you sometime…definitely not here but…"

"I don't think I've ever heard you ramble so uselessly…" Montserrat laughed almost immediately after saying that.

Rafael deadpanned her for a straight minute while she laughed. "I think I deserve to be cut a little slack, right?"

Montserrat nodded as she did her best to sober from her laugh. "Of course, dear."

It was too late as Rafael was already properly annoyed. "You're my emergency contact," he said in a huff.

Montserrat gasped lightly then, eyebrows raising with pleasant shock. "Am I really?"

"Yes, but you're making me regret it—"

"No, no, I promise I'm good! That's nice to hear, I…" Montserrat could feel the familiar spread of butterflies in her stomach. "When did you…when did you decide to do that?"

"I don't know, a bit back? Is that — are you okay with that?"

"Of course! Yes!" Montserrat was a smiling mess, a deep difference from the past day. She leaned over, carefully, and pressed a kiss on Rafael's lips. "Thank you for that trust in me." There was something else she wanted to desperately say to him but she felt the timing was off and perhaps even imprudent on her part.

Even if Rafael said nothing of it, Montserrat still noticed the subtle scrunch of his nose and the twitch of his mouth every now and then from the pain he obviously felt. He just didn't want to tell her about it — it wasn't shocking for her. He barely got used to the idea of asking her for help in far less serious situations so this situation would require a lot more effort from his side and she wanted to make it as easy as possible for him.

"Do you need anything?" She asked him, "I don't know, like a drink or something? And by that I mean water, of course."

"Damn, and I was just about to ask you for some scotch…"

"I would smack you right now if you weren't hurt!" Montserrat sighed and shook her head. "So listen, I really hate asking you this right now but I need to help so…about that night…"

Rafael already started turning his head away from her. He knew exactly what was coming.

"Do you remember what happened?" Montserrat wanted to be as cautious as possible for his sake. It was physically painful enough and now he would have to deal with any mental trauma he suffered from that evening.

"...a little," he did answer albeit in a low mutter.

"Okay, um, well there is that cashier — Clara?"

At the mention of the young woman, Rafael immediately looked back at Montserrat. "Is she okay!?" He truly didn't remember much after hearing the sound of the gun firing. He was in and out of consciousness but he did have slight memories of the young woman terrified in the shop.

"Yes, she is," Montserrat nodded, smiling lightly. "Did you know she's a med student? I was told she helped keep you stable while the ambulance got to you guys. She called 911. I absolutely love her."

It was Rafael's turn to smile. "Should I be worried?"

Montserrat let out a weary sigh but her broad smile defeated any attempt to sound annoyed. "Shut up."

"I want to tell her thank you," Rafael said a moment later. "She was so scared. I may have yelled at her."

"Lots of people react differently in situations like those. It's a flight or fight thing — you chose fight, she chose flight. All involuntary of course. But please, don't ever choose to 'fight' with a robber."

"Oh, but you can?" Rafael countered on the spot. His smirk didn't help. "You carry — you do that for a living. The way you feel right now is what I always feel about you..."

"I know, I know," sighed Montserrat. This was a conversation she didn't like having because Rafael always had the right. His concerns were right, his points made sense.

Rafael gripped Montserrat's hand as much as he could, which wasn't very much if Montserrat was honest with him. She wouldn't tell him. "I'm not arguing, I'm just telling you this is something we can't control," he told her. "I'm sorry I worried you. I didn't…I didn't see the guy getting up…"

"So you do remember some things, then?"

"Yes…but it's still mostly fuzzy…" If there was one thing Rafael didn't want to do right now, it was having to lie to Montserrat. His gaze lowered to their interlocked hands, which fueled his reasons all over again. "I don't know what they put in my body but I couldn't even tell you my birthday right now."

Montserrat smiled sweetly at him. "I'll make a full list about you when you get home. We can go over it together." She scooted her chair even closer to the bed. "Because when you get out of here, you have two choices about what's going to happen."

"Oh, do I?" Rafael blinked, bemused with the revelation.

Montserrat nodded. "Yup. You have a bullet wound and you need to take care of it. You won't be able to move around so easily — you won't be working," she said the last part as a full on threat in case he had the idea of even discussing the matter. "So, when you get out of here, you can either come home with me where I can help you out."

"Not happening," Rafael said on the spot. "You live with Kara and by extension Carisi. Haven't I been through enough already?"

Montserrat deadpanned him for a short minute. She was honestly expecting a response like that. "Then your other option — and your only other one — is that I come stay with you at your place for a while."

"You'd be willing to do that?"

"Yes, of course. I want to help you and I can't do that if I'm at my own place."

"Montserrat, that's sweet of you and I appreciate it but I don't need help —"

"Yes, you do," Montserrat nodded. This was also something else she anticipated and was well prepared to handle. "Raf, you can't live by yourself right now. Until you can go up and down the stairs on your own, I will be staying with you."

"It's not that the idea of having you around isn't pleasant — because it is — but I don't need you giving up your time just to take care of me." Even as he said it out loud, Rafael thought it was ridiculous. "I can manage on my own. I always do."

"Tough luck because it's not just about you anymore," Montserrat countered with a wry smile, "To your misfortune, and mine, I like you very much. With all your sarcasm and hard attitude, but I like you."

Rafael rolled his eyes at Montserrat. It was, of course, nice to hear something like that but it still didn't take away the feeling of impotence either. There were many things out of his control and Rafael was not used to it.

"Montse—"

"Let me do this, please," Montserrat insisted earnestly. "You're right. I was dead worried about you and, yeah, I want to be close to you for the next couple days because of it. I promise I'll try not to bombard you, okay?" She squeezed his hand in hers. "Please?"

This was a battle he had already lost and Rafael knew it. For all he knew, half her things were already in his apartment. That's not the worst thing that could happen. No, no it absolutely wasn't. Rafael sighed. What he would have given for this conversation to be part of a much better situation than the one they were in right now.

"You can go back home anytime, alright?" He said, instantly earning a beam from Montserrat. "You don't have to stay more than you want and you definitely don't have to do anything for me."

"I don't understand how you graduated from Harvard. You're seriously so stupid," Montserrat said quite honestly, which prompted a hard deadpan from Rafael in return. Montserrat let out a laugh in the next second. "But I want you just the way you are! I missed it all!" She leaned over to give him another kiss. "I missed you," she whispered afterwards. "I know it's insane to say that when we saw each other — what, yesterday? — but I really did miss you so much."

Even while saying it, she still sounded so afraid like he would fall under again. Rafael felt so guilty even while knowing this was way out of his control.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," he insisted for her sake. He wished he could get up from the stupid bed and show her — ease her fear and worries. "I don't want you worrying anymore, okay? Calmada."

"I cannot be calm when you're in this situation," Montserrat promptly huffed. "You went ballistic when I had a scratch on my back! I have every right not to be calm about this. Who did this to you? Do you remember anything about the guy?"

Rafael's mind was slow with all the medication, so coming up with a good excuse was even harder than usual. Luckily for him, Olivia returned at that moment.

"Sorry, that was Rollins," the Sergeant said, "She and Fin are going through some possible witnesses." She approached the foot of the bed slowly, both hands in front of her. "Do you think you can give your statement right now?"

Rafael shifted, and in doing so felt a jab of pain on his side.

"Or we could wait…" Olivia said, mistaking his shift for uneasiness.

"I'm good," he said immediately. He glanced at Montserrat, and a moment later he was asking her: "Maybe I do need something after all."

Montserrat nodded. "Anything," she encouraged, "What do you need?"

"A damn glass of water," he said, "They pump meds all night and day and I don't get to eat anything. I'm so thirsty."

"I'll go see what I can do," Montserrat smiled slyly, "Flash my badge and all."

Rafael smiled at her. He knew very well that she would. "Thank you."

"Of course." Montserrat gave his hand a pat then stood up, turning to Olivia. "Keep an eye on him?"

"Oh yeah," Olivia pressed a finger to her cheek then pointed at Rafael.

Montserrat still left with some reluctance, especially when Olivia mentioned that Lucia was asking for her.

"My mother's still here?" Rafael asked, eyebrows raised.

Olivia nodded. "Oh yeah, she's made it clear she's not stepping away for a while."

"She should go home, like you all. I don't need babysitters," Rafael said, shaking his head.

"Oh no, you're not paying Montserrat with that coin when she's had to deal with your mother."

At Olivia's words, Rafael turned his head slightly. "What do you mean by that? Has she been giving Montserrat a hard time?" He wouldn't put it behind his mother given the situation.

Olivia reluctantly nodded. "Yeah. Novak made the call to inform your mother about the situation earlier in the morning. She didn't want Lucia going through a sleepless night like her, much less your grandmother. Lucia didn't like that."

"Is she kidding?" Rafael snapped, not at Olivia but at the situation. "She just told me she hasn't told my grandmother anything about this." He loved his mother, he did, but sometimes she could be a…

"Montserrat didn't tell you?" Olivia assumed with Rafael's reaction. "She probably didn't want to add to your stress."

"Of course," groaned Rafael, although he soon stopped when he discovered it hurt him. "I'll have a word with my mother."

"Sorry," Olivia said guiltily, "I didn't mean to…you know…"

"No, I'm glad you did," said Rafael sharply, "Because Montserrat wouldn't tell me." Nobody would make her life harder than it had to be, not if he could help it. "Don't even tell her that I know."

"Understood," nodded Olivia. "So, about the case…"

"I need you to do something for me," Rafael said out of the blue, startling Olivia.

"Uh, yeah, of course…" Olivia nodded slowly, "What-what do you need?"

Before answering, Rafael's gaze flickered to the door. Montserrat would be away for a while, hopefully. "I need you to close this case."

"Excuse me?" Olivia tilted her head, presuming she heard wrong.

"You heard me," Rafael said, meeting her gaze. "I want the case closed. Cold case, if it must be."

"I don't — I don't understand…" Olivia rubbed her temple, "You want us to…"

"Close the case, yes," Rafael nodded. 'That's exactly what I want you to do. It's my case, and that's what I'm asking for."

"Why?" Olivia never thought she would have to have this kind of conversation with him. If there's anyone who always said what he wanted, it was Rafael. This made no sense. "Are you still processing what happened? Do you need —"

"I already processed it and this is what I need to happen," Rafael said, sounding very sure of himself. "I know what happens next and I'm not doing that."

"Because of a trial? Rafael, you know that's the natural order of thi—"

"I know," Rafael cut Olivia, his sense of impatience growing. "Believe me, Liv, I know what happens next. I know that you will eventually catch this guy and it will go to trial. I know that their defense attorney will start playing tricks and turn things around for their benefit."

"So you're afraid?" Olivia guessed. "That's also normal…"

"I'm not afraid," Rafael clarified, "I would gladly go along with every part of the process but this isn't about me. It was never about me."

Olivia was utterly lost. She rubbed her forehead relentlessly, leaving faint red marks on her skin. "You're going to have to explain this a little better because I'm not understanding. You don't want us to proceed with the case, you don't want a trial, but you're not scared?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Rafael confirmed, "And you, as my friend and more importantly the Sergeant here, need to help me."

"Why? Why do you want me to do that!?"

"Because that man worked for someone I get the feeling has been watching us for a while now."

Olivia presumed that the struggle she saw in Rafael was for himself. His hands balled into fists on either side of him. His lips pursed together enough to scrunch his nose automatically. But once again, Olivia was wrong because as Rafael had said earlier, this wasn't about him.

"He's been watching Montserrat," he spat darkly. The idea sent him into a frenzy and the only thing stopping its full fledged form was the aching throb he felt on the side of his stomach.

Olivia looked at Rafael both curiously and alarmed. "Why…why would you think that?"

"Because that man told me," Rafael replied, giving the impression that he remembered exactly what happened last night.

Olivia raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"

"You and I are the only ones who know what happened to Montserrat before she transferred here, so this should be easy to understand," Rafael said, only taking a moment because he abhorred what he had to say next. "That man who hurt her — he's watching her. I don't know how, I don't know when, but he's still got eyes on her."

Olivia was keenly aware of the rising noise from the machine beside the bed. One of them was connected to Rafael's finger — a blood pressure measure. "I think you need to—"

"It makes sense now, what Little Tino told Montserrat when we visited him in jail. He told Montserrat that there was a rule in place…"

The beeps got slightly louder.

"Raf—"

"Nobody lays a finger on the redhead," Rafael repeated the words he now hated himself for. He completely missed them at that moment. A deep scowl marked his face. "He has rules, Olivia, about her, about Montserrat — in his eyes, she belongs to him. I can't — he's just—"

"Rafael!" Olivia snapped to get his attention. She moved to his bedside, urgently motioning him to calm down.

"Liv, we can't let him keep watching her," he told her, finally sounding what he truly was: frightened. He was scared, but not for him. "We can't let this keep going. He's—"

Olivia nodded and once again motioned him to calm down. "You need to take it easy. You have stitches. They can burst," she reminded him. She grabbed Montserrat's chair to sit down. "Okay, you're going to have to walk me through this so that we're on the same page about what happened. Only then we can decide how to proceed from here."

"Fine, whatever, but you can't tell Montserrat anything about this."

"I can't promise that but we can work together to come up with the best solution," Olivia said.

It wasn't good enough for Rafael. He needed to hear it out loud…but he knew he was asking the impossible from Olivia. He'd been on that side plenty of times. It was hypocritical of him to be asking the same thing he denied so many times before.

Yes, he was being hypocritical.

Yes, he was being unreasonable.

But he just didn't care.

He didn't care about anything, not even the frikin stitches throbbing on his side right now. The only thing he cared about was currently outside, getting something he asked her for. She was all he cared about. So damn everything else.

#ocapp #allaboutocs #ochub #fd: svu #Rafael Barba fics #Rafael Barba imagines #Rafael Barba x oc #SVU fics #svu imagines #law and order fics #law and order imagines #original characters #oc: Montserrat Novak #fic: dare to forget

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cilil · 7 months ago

Note

🌿 for ask game. thank you!

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

Now I may be both a good and bad person to ask about that because I've been inspired and writing almost every day for 2 1/2 years straight now and, while there certainly were unproductive episodes in terms of output or low motivation or stress and anxiety keeping me away from writing itself, I always had inspiration in my head at least; I suppose you could say I've been somewhat "blessed" with keeping this up without putting in real conscious effort. I don't think there's a secret recipe either, but I'll try to give some helpful (?) ideas :)

So a good chunk of this is sadly, or at least I suspect it might be so, dependent on how prone to hyperfixation and how attached to an individual thing you are on a personal level. Speaking for myself, I'm the kind of person who always has their "one main thing" and sticks with it for several years at least (I was tenacious enough to spend 5 years doing my own thing in a dead fandom) and slowly digs deeper and deeper as time goes on. Others may change interests more frequently, be in several fandoms at once or experience greater fluctuations with high and low creativity. That leads us to my first point: Know who you are and work with that, don't try to be anyone else.

The second thing I think is important is to find a good balance between trying to be reliable and finish your stuff and give yourself some space to do whatever you feel like and fuck around. You may have heard creativity being compared to a river before and it's true: Too much human interference - for example straightening a river - can impact the environment around it negatively, and too much scheduling and deadlines and forcing yourself to be creative will impact your creativity negatively. Make sure you have the space to at least occasionally do what comes to mind. You should be working on project A, but you're feeling project B? Work on B for a while. The muses are moody.

Another thing that may seem a little contradictory at first, but I think is helpful: Keep at it. If you do whatever is your creative thing regularly, it's less of a "big deal" and threshold to cross every time, it becomes natural and a comforting part of your routine. For writers, drabble challenges and prompt events are examples for good tools to ensure you write at least semi-regularly. But again, please don't feel like you have to force yourself to create every single day, especially if you're someone who experiences periods of little to no creative energy. That's fine. Let yourself recharge. We're all different (in general what works for me doesn't have to work for everyone else).

Now if you do find yourself in a bit of a creative slump or lose passion for a project you used to enjoy a lot, here are some things you can try:

Take a break and do something else. Scratch a different itch. Have fun!

Put yourself in the right mood/mindset by looking for media that evokes the feelings/vibes needed for your project (note that this will work better for people who are highly sensitive or otherwise react/connect to media on an emotional level more strongly). Examples: A playlist, a specific song you associate with your work, a movie/book/game/etc that inspired you, artwork of a character

Talk about it with someone else. Be excited together. Ask for advice if needed. Or just talk through whatever block you have; you may not even consciously realize it, but just to have someone listening will help with explaining the situation to both them and yourself and clearing it up

Write a project list (I recommend either a spreadsheet or a handwritten one). Sometimes the crux with a project is simply all the disorganized noise around it and you begin to feel anxious which causes writer's block and/or kills your creativity. Writing a list can clear that up, make you feel more calm and collected and show you a clear way forward. Note: This applies to other situations in life too. Try it and I promise things will become easier to handle

That's all I can think of right now. Again I can't promise any of this is "the secret sauce, but maybe some of it can help someone :)

#thanks for the ask!#cílil answers #writers block #may manwe sulimo our resident god of writing bless you

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artzee-bee · 3 years ago

Text

Now and for eternity| Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Fandom: Lucifer ( netflix)

Request:” Can you write an imagine where Lucifer’s wife is like this well known social light that owns her own luxury fashion brand and she starts receiving gifts from an obsessed secret admirer and Lucifer is unknowingly being targeted by the secret admirer who is trying to kill Lucifer in order to get the reader and Lucifer thinks it’s his father trying to ‘strike’ him down for some unknown reason until Chloe point out someone that correlates with the readers secret admirer and Lucifer’s attacker. Feeling some type away about it Lucifer decides to taunt the secret admirer by upping the PDA and romantic gestures getting a kick out in it much to Chloe’s dismay. And once the secret admirer is caught Lucifer rubs it in their face that the reader is his for now and all of eternity before showing the secret admirer his true face. ”

Genre: fluff? I guess

Warnings:death threats, stalking, attempted murder

~~~

It wasn’t unusual to receive gifts and flowers at your office. After all, with the job you worked and the wealthy people you collaborated with, the presents simply represented one of the many perks of being a designer. Except, one friday morning, while examining a particularly beautiful bouquet of pink lilies, you noticed the little card that came with it

“I know they are some of your favorite - <3 “

Usually, work associates would leave a name. Some way for you to know that they value your work and are thinking of you (and maybe to flatter you into giving them a discount), but there was no name on this card, just a tiny heart in a glittery, pink gel pen. Pink lilies were, indeed, your favorite.

You brought the flowers home and told your husband, Lucifer, all about the mysterious gift. You had talked to your secretary and even she didn’t know where the flowers came from, since no one came to drop off lilies that morning. You presumed the sender must have simply forgotten to sign the card, and perhaps your secretary had forgotten about them, with the busy morning she’d had. You and Lucifer had a laugh, imagining the shy and anxious intern that was probably assigned the job, and the scolding they’ll get when their boss finds out about their mistake.

The next morning, a box of your favorite chocolates were waiting for you on your desk. There wasn’t any note, just the same heart, written in the same glitter pen. You dismissed it as a weird coincidence and moved on to working on your designs.

Without you knowing, this also happened to be the first time Lucifer would be faced with a very interesting note. As he was getting ready to leave the police station, he noticed a piece of yellow paper, stuck to his windshield

“Back off of Y/N. Consider this your first and last warning” no signature. Anyone in Lucifer’s place would have lost their shit, but he paid it no mind. He was the devil after all! If anyone wants to take his precious Y/N away from him, well, they can try. It would make things all the more fun. He folded the paper and stuffed it in his pocket before heading home.

The couple shared Y/N’s chocolates that night, talking about who this person might be. Lucifer wasn’t as amused as he had been the night before, if anything he was rather concerned but he didn’t want to say anything about the note to Y/N, because she would freak out.

Nothing really happened for the next week. Anonymous gifts stopped showing up at Y/N’s office, Lucifer didn’t get any more notes and things were falling back in their place, until the day right after Y/N’s latest photoshoot went public and viral. It was all to promote her upcoming clothing line. As soon as she walked into the office the next day, she spotted a red, velvet box, the size of a notebook, in the middle of her desk. On top of it, a note written in the same glittery pink as the other gifts

“Congratulations on your new line. Those photos are gorgeous - J.P. <3”

Inside the box was a gorgeous diamond necklace, looking like it was worth millions. If you hadn’t been concerned about the sudden apparition of all these gifts so far, you sure were now. You immediately called your husband to tell him about the mysterious jewelry, but he didn’t pick up. Unbeknown to you, he was busy ranting to detective Decker.

“I mean, not to be dramatic, detective, but the situation does feel like it’s spiralling out of control. Death threats, sure, those come every other weekend, kind of like fanmail, y’know? But actual gun shots fired at my head, well, that’s where I draw the line.” he ended with a giggle. Lucifer was leaning on Decker’s desk as she was examining the bullet casings Lucifer had brought her from his apparent ‘attempted assasination’

“Where did this happen again?” she said, not taking her eyes off of her work

“Right by that coffee shop ms. Lopez always talks about. I may have lost a bet to her the other day and have to get her coffee for the rest of the week, so I was just exiting the shop when a masked man in a dark blue BMW zoomed by, pointing his gun at me and shooting blindly. I mean, that is the most basic attemp at murder I have ever witnessed. At least make it interesting!”

“Lucifer, if someone is out for your life, it’s serious business”

“Why would it be? It’s not like I can actually die, detective! Plus, it’s probably not that deep anyways. Just, dear old dad coming after me again for no particular reason. Very characteristic of him.”

“ You’re getting ahead of yourself. Whoever sent this wants you and Y/N apart, why would your dad want that?”

“Because he’s a prick who disagrees with everything and anything that makes me happy?” Lucifer concludes with an innocent smile “And, of course, Y/N being moral, our marriage goes against the heavenly rules of the almighty, so he’s trying to break us apart, but worry not detective! Me and Y/N are stronger and more in love than ever. My father will simply have to accept that. Nothing will break us apart” he said, puffing his chest out with confidence

“That’s good to hear Lucifer, but I still think we should stay open to different possibilities”

“Oh, come on detective, that would be a waste of our time. I know my father better than anyone, believe me when I tell you this is his hand and no one else's. Case closed! Now, let’s move to the next one! Chop chop detective, murders won’t solve themselves!” Lucifer said, marching out of the precinct. Chloe rolled her eyes at her partner, before hiding the bullets and the note in her desk and going after him.

Although it didn’t bother you, you couldn’t help but notice how much more touchy Lucifer had been with you, ever since the necklace incident. He needed to touch you at all times: when you were out for coffee, at lunch, at the station, in your office, in Lux. His hand was always either around your waist or tangled in yours. You felt sort of bad, thinking he must be a little insecure with this secret admirer being after you at all times, but you wanted him to know that you loved him more than anything and that no matter what, you would never leave him for a faceless man, no matter how many pearls and chocolates he bribes you with. And so, you decided to play along with him, giving him as much attention as you could. Your visits at the station almost doubled, you always cleared your schedule to make time for him and even decided to start work later in the day than usual, so you could spend more time with him in the morning.

One afternoon, as you were enjoying your time with Decker and Lucifer during their lunch time, one of the notes from your secret admirer slipped out of your pocket. You didn’t realise it until Chloe picked it up

“Oh, I was going to throw that out”

“Where’s this from?” she asked, studying the note

“Just one of this week's gifts” you confessed awkwardly. Without a second thought, the detective reached for her drawer, pulling out another note from inside and inspecting them side by side. Eventually, she placed them both in front of Lucifer

“Notice something interesting about the writing?”

“They are remarkably similar…”

“More like identical”

“What is that?” you asked, looking at the unknown note. Your heart sank as you read it

“I’ll explain everything at home dear, I swear” Lucifer said

“You’ve received death threats because of me?”

“I’ll tell you everything at home, I promise”

“You have initials…” Decker noticed

“Yeah, ever since my photoshoot, they’re present on every package”

“What floor is your office on again?”

“5th, why?”

“How can someone enter your office every morning without anyone, not even your secretary noticing, and exit just as mysteriously?” “Unless he found a different way in” Lucifer replied

“My window” you realise “You can step out directly onto the emergency staircase from there”

“He knew when to sneak in without being seen, so he must have known your schedule like the back of his hand. Who could know?”

“The only people who know it are my secretary and Lucifer”

“A stalker?” your husband suggested

“Maybe” Decker turned quickly to her computer ��I’m going to check any business owners around that neighbourhood who could have had a close shot of when you enter and exit your studio, see if any initially match the ones on the notes. We’ll go from there”

You thanked Chloe for the help and went home with Lucifer, who spent the entire car ride explaining the note to you and the events of the previous days. You were angry at him for keeping all of it away from you, but ultimately happy that he was safe. You spent the night drinking wine and rewatching all of your comfort movies, to calm your nerves.

You decided to try working from home for the next couple of days, too scared by the idea of a stranger following your every move. It was a challenging process but Lucifer did his best in helping you get accustomed to this new routine. His homemade meals could not compare to anything you would eat while in a meeting with your business associates. Plus, the company was much more delightful.

Chloe texted you, almost a week later, to come down to the station as quickly as possible. They had found the guy. You hopped into your car and when you finally arrived, Lucifer was waiting for you outside

“They found him?”

“Yes dear, they did”

“How?”

“Well, as it turns out he lived in the apartment building next door. His living room window had a great view of everything happening in your office. We’ve found a week’s worth of gifts he was planning to deliver. It’s him for sure”

“Thank you” you whispered before collapsing into Lucifer’s arms and hugging him tight

“It’s alright lovely. It’s over now. Let’s go see how the detective is handling it. I think they’re in the interrogation room now.”

From behind the glass, you watched the man that threatened your marriage and your husband's life, confess to everything. Admit to stalking you, in order to learn your schedule. Break into your office and open fire on Lucifer. More than enough to get him behind bars for a long time. Decker and Lucifer got up and were ready to leave, but your husband requested a couple of minutes alone with the man. The detective agreed, cautioning him to not do something stupid, before leaving them alone. Lucifer turned on his heels to face the man in handcuffs and you could instantly tell he was furious

“Truly an honorable try. Y/N is one of a kind, you were right about that, the only detail you missed is that, you see, she’s taken. By me” the mischievous smile on his face let you know that he was up to no good “Our bond is indestructible and it’s really laughable to think that you’ve risked so much to tear us apart when you didn’t stand a chance to begin with” Lucifer leaned over the table, now his back was facing you “Me and Y/N are, and forever will be, together. There is nothing you or anyone else can do to change that. She is mine and I am hers, now and for eternity” as his little speech came to an end, you noticed the man in handcuffs go pale with terror. He began shaking in his chair, screaming incoherently about the devil. Even tho you hadn’t see what your husband did, you could tell by the man’s reaction. You laughed to yourself, not even mad that Lucifer had used his devil face against this man. You would have done the same if you had the option.

#lucifer netflix #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar fluff #lucifer morningstar

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palmofafreezinghand · 2 years ago

Note

For the Emoji Ask:

🛒💖⛔

Thank you for the ask @gisellelx !! Apologies it took me forever.

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

I once again lack the self-awareness to answer this question well but here we go:

Imagery: Esme has a baby blanket that was with her when she “died.” It’s implausible it would have survived in the water she jumped into but in my mind, the fishermen who found her kept it with her, no matter how implausible. It barely retains the scent of her son but it was enough for newborn her to smell and remember forever. Carlisle has crocheted a couple of replicas that pop up in my fics often. (I don’t know why I think Carlisle crochets but in my mind he does).

Esme’s quilts are usually draped over a chair or the foot of a bed. I will admit I think this is partly because of who I think of Esme as a character and the fact every woman in my family quilts and I have so strongly associated fabric carefully cut into shapes and pieced back together to make purposeful patterns and the hours it takes as the ultimate labor of love. (And we have the state ribbons to prove it!)

I always describe Esme as smelling like honeysuckle because Double Indemnity is one of my favorite books and films and the line “How could I have known murder can sometimes smell like honeysuckle?” changed something in the chemistry of my brain and I think Carlisle had a very similar reckoning sometime in the 1920s.

Themes/feels: Carlisle as a narrator is always two-degrees separated from his motivations. He could be having the most mundane conversation at work and even subtly he’s thinking about Edward. Vice versa when he’s home he’s thinking about work and all the work he should be doing.

Carlisle often ends up being a pretty anxious guy when I give him the talking stick, I think this is 2 fold 1. I write predominantly in 1920-1931 which was a rough time for the poor guy. 2. Edward got it from somewhere. And I think contrasting his absolute idolization of Carlisle and demonization of himself with a “You two are the same person in different fonts” is really fun.

Scenes: Big scenes always happen in Esme’s bedroom. I didn’t consciously set out for it to be like that it just seems

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

DO I!? My google drive is absolutely littered with wips that will never be finished. I write in a weird order of operations: dialogue then add everything else which means I have a lot of documents that are just conversations I can see happening but have yet to find a plot for. I have yet to abandon a published fic (although I sometimes do take upwards of six months to update things…)

I’ve contemplated at least a half dozen different versions of human!Esme but have scrapped them all because it always seems to boil down to “Carlisle wouldn’t,” and in 1920 neither would Esme in my opinion.

💖 What made you start writing?

Non-fandom: My grandfather is an author. I’ve written for as long as I can remember.

Fandom-wise: I work in politics and 2020 was an… interesting election cycle. I was working 40 hours a week (unpaid) while going to school full-time and was centimeters away from a breakdown. My “vampiric literature” professor noticed and emailed me an “Odd Ways to Improve your Mental Health” infographic. One of the bullet points was “engage with fandom of your childhood interest.” I thought that was the stupidest thing ever but vaguely remembered reading @/panlight’s blog in middle school and thought what the hell let’s do it. I remember the general concept of Esme’s backstory had been the most intriguing to me for some reason back as a tween and went from there.

The escapism was absolutely priceless but I kept myself distanced. “I can read these stories in a private browser and under no circumstances will create an account on any platform.” (It’s one of my goals to go back and properly leave a review on the fics I read during that time).

In November we won the election by 13% and flipped a district — the only trade-off I became obsessed with a character who is absolutely inconsequential to the plot of a book series I don’t remember liking when I first read it.

I didn’t need the escapism for a couple of months, only keeping up with the stories that were actively updating. I don’t if anyone remembers what happened on January 6, 2021. I made my blog no later than the 9th. By January 24th I had written and posted my first ever fic. @/esmeshardwoodfloors posted about how Carlisle and Esme could not have possibly gotten married in under a year and must have pretended to be married for some time. I agreed wholeheartedly and could see the whole thing pretty clearly. I wrote a chapter based on it, expecting no one to read it, and for me to abandon it quickly. Over a year later I’m 129,000+ words in…

#thank you for the questions -- apologies for rambling!#also for all worried at home I now get paid for my work and am very happy in my job #ask games

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makeste · 4 years ago

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BnHA Chapter 308: VIBE: CHECKED

Previously on BnHA: Lots and lots of Shindou idk what else to tell you.

Today on BnHA: Tired Nomad Deku rescues Shindou from Muscular, and us from Shindou. Muscular is all “OH BOY I SURE CAN’T WAIT TO FIGHT DEKU AGAIN AFTER HE TOTALLY KICKED MY ASS THE LAST TIME!! I’M SURE THIS TIME WILL GO DIFFERENTLY SEEING AS HE’S HAD ALMOST AN ENTIRE YEAR’S WORTH OF ADDITIONAL TRAINING, AND ALSO HAS SIX FOURQUIRKS NOW, IN ADDITION TO THE CONFIDENCE THAT COMES WITH HAVING EIGHT OTHER PEOPLE’S SOULS CHILLING OUT INSIDE HIM OFFERING MORAL SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGEMENT.” Deku is all, “[kicks Muscular’s ass effortlessly].” Muscular is all, “[gets his ass totally kicked].” I for one am very satisfied with this, and with respect to all, I would like to hereby declare this post a discourse-free zone. I’m just happy to see my son out here making good use of his FOURQUIRKS, and more importantly beating Muscular in less than seventeen pages so we can all go on with our lives lol.

damn Deku since when were you allowed to look this cool

from this perspective and with the smoke, cape, backpack, and mask more or less obscuring his actual profile, he looks less like a sixteen-year-old boy and more like a grownass man

OH SNAP

we got a glimpse of this in the cleaned-up scan of 307, but seeing both of his eyes looking so distinctively All Might-esque here is... whoa. I mean we know that his face still looks pretty normal underneath the mask and he doesn’t actually have the black sclera, but still, this is an awesome look. mini-Might

lol Muscular

you and me both. I mean no offense, but yeah

so Deku is just standing there silently

typical Deku. tight-lipped and expressionless. mum’s the word. quiet as a mouse. silent as a grave

okay no but seriously this is so weird and creepy though you guys. Deku please say something or else I’m just gonna mindlessly say whatever stupid things come into my head in an effort to make things less awkward

so Muscular is all “I should probably make a cool speech about revenge but Horikoshi couldn’t think of anything good so I’m just going to stand here clenching my fist real slowly”

“I’m not here to go on a monologue” he says, as he monologues about not monologuing

okay you guys I confess I have only read through/watched the Deku VS Muscular fight once because the arm-breaking is just way too uncomfortable for me to revisit. and so as a result, I have completely forgotten Whatever The Deal Is with Muscular’s eye lmao so let me go look it up real quick

okay so it’s a prosthetic, obviously, and he changes it out according to his mood. that part does sound familiar. I just can’t remember which eye is supposed to indicate which mood. don’t tell me I actually have to go back and reread this shit

lol I’m skimming through chapter 75 now and remembering/realizing that I hardly paid any attention to this the first time around because as soon as I found out the villains were after Kacchan my brain was like “TIME TO FOCUS ON THIS AND ONLY THIS NOW AND FOREVER” and yeah. ah memories

anyway so he started out with the flower-looking eye, and then later on he was all

which begs the question, how on earth could I have ever forgotten the most ridiculous panel I’ve ever read lmao

anyway, but so after all of that, I'm only just now realizing that this isn't one of his previous eye prosthetics in the current chapter; this is an ACTUAL FUCKING ROCK that he's just randomly shoved into his eye socket fkdsjlk

so basically (1) I did all of that painstaking research for nothing, five whole minutes of my life wasted THANKS A LOT, and (2) what, and I have never meant this more emphatically, THE FUCK

anyway so now he's leaping at the building that Deku is standing on top of. but he’s not aiming anywhere near Deku though, wtf

(ETA: HAHA YOU BROKE ALL YOUR MUSCLES YOU LOSER.)

...huh

lmao okay then. I hope those annoying citizens in the building next door are watching this go down and rethinking their life choices

dlkdkljk

just keep standing there pressed right up against the window, why don’t you. “WHAT’S GOING ON THIS SUPER CLOSE COLLAPSING BUILDING IS BLOCKING OUR VIEW.” well, folks, we’ve long since known there’s a critical shortage of hero and villain brain cells, but what we’re learning now is that civilian brain cells are also in short supply

OH THANK GOD DEKU IS FINALLY TALKING THAT WAS ACTUALLY UNSETTLING AS FUCK

SO HE’S STILL OUR GOOD, POLITE, WORRIED, CONSIDERATE DEKU UNDERNEATH THAT COOL AND MYSTERIOUS VENEER. for real, thank fuck, because I swear to god if he suddenly started acting like the Dekus in all of the vigilante AUs my interest in this series would have dropped something like 50% lol. just because he dropped out of school and ran away from home and is currently dressed like the physical manifestation of a Linkin Park playlist doesn’t mean he’s not still the WORLD’S BIGGEST DORK okay

I MEAN, THIS RIGHT HERE. THIS IS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT. HE’S APOLOGIZING FOR THE DELAY

PLEASE FIND THE ATTACHED SHINDOU YOU REQUESTED. BEST REGARDS!!!

OH MY GOD WHY IS HE SUCH A BADASS

something about making bold, confident statements while obscured in smoke?? idk but damn it fucking works

ffjkkl

more importantly, should you tell him you actually need your copy of Shindou in excel format and not pdf?? on the one hand you don’t want to sound ungrateful, but on the other hand what are you even supposed to do with this

this chapter so far consists of like 50% smoke, but on the other hand Deku VS Kacchan 2 had a lot of cinematic smoke too so who am I to complain

OMG IS IT HIS ARMS

IDK DID YOU?! TELL ME YOUR SECRETS. PLEASE, AT SOME POINT THIS FIGHT HAS GOT TO ACTUALLY ADVANCE THE PLOT

OHHHHHHH

IT’S EN’S QUIRK!! OH MY GOD OKAY THAT’S ACTUALLY AWESOME

I CAN HEAR THE SOUND OF DISCOURSE RUMBLING IN THE BACKGROUND BUT I DON’T CARE LOL. WON’T CATCH ME EVER SAYING NO TO ANOTHER SIXQUIRK. GO AHEAD, BRING THEM ON, I WANT TO SEE THEM ALL but take it easy though Deku. don’t want to give yourself lung cancer or anything

also it’s good to see that in a very real sense he’s not fighting alone. the Vestiges really did mean it when they said they could appear more easily now. this is on a whole other level

so is this whole next page still En talking, or someone else? because whoever it is sure is chatty

okay, several things

pretty sure it is En, because he keeps saying “I suppose.” for someone who never said two words until one page ago, this guy sure never shuts up. we can’t all follow Muscular’s lead I suppose. oh my god now I’m doing it too

really like the suggestion of Deku using the SIXQUIRKS like tools in an arsenal, because that’s what he’s good at! it’s almost like he’s been training for this his entire life. “you value quirks too much” LOOK HE JUST THINKS THEY’RE COOL OKAY IS THAT A CRIME

where the fuck did all this rope come from

not gonna ask what the fuck that thing is sticking out from the back of his utility belt. Horikoshi will surely explain this

is that a fucking jetpack. I’m sorry Deku were six fucking quirks not enough for you. you can fucking float??? but JUST TO BE SAFE, LET’S STRAP A PAIR OF ROCKETS TO OUR SHOULDERS IDK

-- or wait, is this all supposed to be like a visual representation of En’s metaphor?? OH MY GOD AM I JUST STUPID LOL, DON’T ANSWER THAT. NEVER MIND. NEW LIST!!

rope = blackwhip

jetpack = float

radio = danger sense

and so I’m guessing that this ridiculously phallic thing is supposed to be a flare or something?? and that = the new quirk, smokescreen. well that was a fucking ride lmao we now return you to our regularly scheduled chapter

so now Deku is floating to his heart’s content and thinking that he’ll just sneak up on Muscular and vibe check his ass or whatever

WOOOOOOOO DANGER SENSE YESSSS I LOVE THIS FOR HIM

okay guys, I'm gonna press pause here for a sec to make a serious note, because I am loving the shit out of this, but tbh I'm having trouble enjoying it as much as I want to because I keep getting anxious thinking about the discourse. I know that a lot of the fandom has very strong opinions on Deku's character development one way or the other, and I want to respect that. but I also really have no spoons to debate this topic at all beyond what I’ve already weighed in on. so if it’s all the same to everyone, I plan on staying out of this discussion, at least this week

anyway! that said, YEAH BOI GET HIS ASS

VIBE: CHECKED. CURB: STOMPED. HOTEL: TRIVAGO

-- OF COURSE HE’S STILL FUCKING FINE LOL HE CRASHES INTO BUILDINGS FOR FUN IDK WHAT I WAS EXPECTING

dammit Muscular. how many fucking quirks does it take to beat you?! the annoying thing is that even with all of his cool new powers, Deku is still something of a mismatch against him. anyway r.i.p. to all these poor buildings

OOOOOHHHHH

you guys have no idea how intrigued I am at the prospect of watching Deku try to play both good cop and bad cop here lmao

anyway so Muscular says he doesn’t know, go figure

“I’m not here to make small talk or anything” he says as he small talks about not small talking

OH MY GOD DEKU

are you really gonna talk no jutsu all of these villains from now on?? that last battle really did have a profound impact on you, huh! interesting

you guys he’s really doing it omg

Deku this guy tried to murder a five-year-old literally just for fun. I mean more power to you, but holy shit you’re really gonna try to defeat Muscular with anger management therapy huh

I MEAN

WHO COULD HAVE SEEN THAT RESPONSE COMING dlkjslkjk

FUCK’S SAKE DEKU, I KNOW YOU MEAN WELL BUT THEY CAN’T ALL HAVE TRAGIC PASTS KIDDO

but. I have to admit, I do still like that he tried. probably knew just as well as we did what the end result was going to be, but still. he made the effort in good faith and I respect that

uh oh

why do I get the feeling Muscular just got a whole lot deader

oh my god oh my god he’s doing the “powering up” stance ffff don’t fucking tell me you can still use your fucking arms here, Deku

BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY WHAT’S THIS??

okay so basically he’s saying that whatever it was he sensed in Tomura, he doesn’t sense from Muscular. which, yeah, that sounds exactly right. good judge of character here lol

AHHHHAHAHA YESS

WHOOPS, GET FUCKED I GUESS

WOOOOHOOOOOOOO

lmao so apparently this is the belated result of Shindou’s attack from chapter 307?? I’ll be damned. good for you Shindou!! I always liked you buddy. please just take my word on that and don’t fact check that statement

okay lol the one tiny bit of discourse I will allow is that it’s bullshit that he just did that with his right arm. like, I’ll fully acknowledge that. that makes no fucking sense, and I demand an explanation from the Great Plot Hole Filler himself. he’s never let us down before when it comes to continuity so I’m trusting him not to suddenly start now

that said, we love to see a rematch against a boring guy settled quickly and decisively within the span of a single chapter. THANK YOU

I like that Deku implies that his power is being a smart nerd who battles villains using the power of ANALYTICS. he basically didn’t do anything except restrain Muscular and wait for Shindou’s attack to take effect while halfheartedly checking to see if he regretted any of that murder and stuff

(ETA: and almost forgot to mention, he made excellent use of all four of his active SIXQUIRKS. it’s like the chapter title said; this is basically him fighting all-out, and it’s a sight to see.)

also, as cool as the mask was, this just feels right. like, we had our fun, now let us see his face, yes good

anyway, I think this was a good start towards establishing What’s Up With Deku Right Now! so if it’s all the same to Horikoshi, I would next like to take some time to explore Why’s Up With Deku. that, and What’s Up With Everyone Else, Especially Kacchan. por favor

#bnha 308 #midoriya izuku #muscular (bnha)#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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cigarettesandslushies · 4 years ago

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destress // jd x stressed!reader

jd helps you destress from studying for midterms

word count: 1,700

tw: language, smut, ambiguous gender but was written for a female!reader in mind

requests & questions

Note: Hello! I’m a new writing blog! I am an aspiring writer and thought it would be fun to get in some practice by writing for some of my favorite fandoms. I’ve been wanting to write JD x Reader fics for a while so I’m happy to finally be doing that. Please feel free to send in requests! This is my first-time writing smut so be gentle with me (even if JD isn’t being gentle with you). -Ellie

“Shit, did a fucking tornado hit your room?”

You didn’t acknowledge the intruder that entered through your bedroom window. You didn’t have the time to. With multiple midterms coming up that you weren’t the least bit prepared for, every second from now until then was precious.

“Not even a hello, darling?”

You could tell that a brow of his was quirked, teasing. He very well knew that midterms were next week. Though, compared to you, he couldn’t give less of a shit. How you wish you could do the same.

“JD, not now.” You warned.

He stood, appraising your midterm wrecked room quietly. Notes, textbooks, and wrappers galore decorated various surfaces, from the floor to the bed to your vanity.

He walked, watching each step as he made his way towards you. You were hunched over your desk, nose deep in one of your textbooks. Your highlighter was tapping against the wood of your desk, keeping time with the anxious bounce of your leg.

He was behind you in the next moment, resting his head against yours. He placed his hands on your thighs firmly, slowing your movements. You took a deep breath, setting your book down. Your head titled up, moving his head from yours in order to meet his gaze.

A slight smile tugged at the corner of your lips upon seeing him. God, he was such a better sight than statistics.

“Hello.” You murmured.

He matched your smile, dropping his volume to yours. “See? Now was that so hard?” He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Hello, darling. How are you? Did you miss me?”

You rested your head back against him. Your eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the warmth of his body. “No. Not even a little bit. Statistics has been the best company.”

“Oh, really? I’m going to wager that stats is fucking you pretty hard.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Maybe even harder than you.”

“Are you challenging me? You know I always win.”

You took a deep breath. The slight smile gone from your face and replaced with a deep frown. Your eyebrows pulled together, your face scrunching to meet the stress headache growing.

“JD, you know on any other day I would want you to win. I can’t.”

“Come on, give me just an hour.”

“Bullshit.” You were quick to reply. Your eyes flew open to stare up at him. “Like we’ve ever gone just an hour. You keep me for multiple hours which I don’t have. I’m already losing sleep as it is. I promise you can keep me up some other night but tonight-“

He stepped back, grabbing the back of your chair, and spinning you to face him. “Darling,” he drawled slowly. “You’re losing it.”

You blinked once, your gaze falling into your lap as you processed his words. Your hands met your head, elbows resting on your knees as you curled up into yourself. “I know.” You spoke into your hands. “God, JD, I’m so fucking stressed. I have so many midterms to study for without enough hours in the day. I can’t fail these. They’re worth so much of my grade. It will ruin my GPA if I get anything less than-”

“Sh, sh…” he crouched, leveling himself with you. “How about we round up your teachers in an abandoned building and blow it up, hm? Would that make this all better?”

You would have laughed if you didn’t know that he was completely serious. This boy would do anything for you. He’s proved that time and time again. “Getting rid of the teachers wouldn’t get rid of the classes themselves. I’d still have to take the midterms eventually.”

“You’d at least get more time.”

“True.” You agreed. Another deep breath and you lifted your head from your hands. “I think it would just be easier for me to study. It would take time and planning to pull it off and anyway, do you want to go through a whole grieve fest at school?”

“It would make for an interesting week.”

“You aren’t funny.”

“No, I’m hilarious.” He took your hands in his, pulling you up from your seat. “Fine, no offing the teachers, but you know the more that you try to cram all that shit in your head, the more it will spill out. Breaks are healthy, recommended even.”

A finger under your chin, a thumb resting below your lip, he brought his face closer to yours. He was close, too close. You smelled his last cigarette and a cherry slushie lingering in his breath.

“Let me help you destress.” He ghosted the words over your lips. How could you ever think that you could deny him? How could you ever think that he wouldn’t get his way?

All it took was a quiet please and his hands were everywhere.

With one swift movement, JD knocked the contents of your desk onto the floor. With another, you were sitting on top of it, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He caught your lips with his, too slow, too gentle.

You didn’t have the patience for his teasing.

You intertwined your fingers in his hair, tugging him closer. You pressed your lips harder against his, showing him your eagerness to have him, just as he wanted.

You could feel him smirk against your lips, his hands moving to undress you from the waist down.

“Well, would you look at that? For someone who didn’t want to even acknowledge me, you sure are eager to have me inside of you.”

You bit back a moan, his words touching you before he even laid a hand between your legs.

Fucking asshole and his way with dirty talk.

“Jason Dean, you’re a pain in my ass.” You replied breathlessly.

A low chuckle followed as you dragged your lips across his jawline in a sporadic series of kisses. You bucked your hips up towards him, a sign for him to hurry the hell up and take you already.

You would have been surprised if he actually took the sign instead of ignoring it and taking another direction.

“Nu uh, darling. I can’t shove my cock in you and fuck you into the desk until the wood chips just yet. With how stressed you are over midterms, I’m not sure if you can handle it. So let me loosen you up first, hm?”

He didn’t wait to slip a finger inside of you, then two, and then three. You leaned back along the desk, your elbows barely keeping you up and steady. He set a rhythm, relishing the sounds that you made for him and him alone. Whimpers, gasps, and moans alike were all tangled with his name.

He felt you were getting close. He could always tell, sometimes before you even knew. You never quite knew how close you were to falling off the edge until he was pulling away from you, leaving you empty and longing for him to fill you again.

Just like he liked it.

“JD,” you breathed shakily. You didn’t realize that your elbows had failed you early on and you were lying completely flat against the desk. You shifted your weight, lifting yourself back up and onto your elbows once more. Your eyes narrowed when you caught his gaze.

“What? Did you not want to cum on my cock after all?” He asked innocently, a contrast to the words that came from his mouth.

“God, I could kill you.”

“There can be only one killer in this relationship, darling.” He drawled, undoing his jeans. He was hard and so ready to fuck you until you couldn’t remember the population versus the sample. He hesitated, almost expecting another retort, another “you’re not funny”, but no. You weren’t going to drag this out any longer. You wanted him now.

You needed him now.

“JD, please. For the love of god, fuck me.”

He didn’t even have to ask for a please. He knew that meant there was nothing else in your head but wanting him to fuck you.

Would there ever come a time that he wouldn’t get exactly what he wanted?

“Only because you asked so nicely.” It only took a single beat, a single thrust before he was inside of you completely, barely giving you a chance to adjust to him. You let yourself fall back onto the desk, crying out his name.

The rhythm he set was faster, rougher. His fingers curled over your shoulders. His hands pushed you down as his hips pushed you up. Every thrust was met with force. He never let you move. He did the moving for you. He was in full control, using your body for his pleasure which just so happened to cause you pleasure.

A perfect match, that’s what he said, and you believed it. He knew exactly where to hit the tip of his cock to make you-

“JD, I’m getting-”

“Mmm, I can feel that. I didn’t think you could get any tighter.”

“JD-”

His lips caught the rest of your whine. His movements were sloppier now, his hands messily tangling themselves in your hair. He was close too.

As he pulled back ever so slightly, he uttered three words. “Cum for me.”

With that, you came undone and he followed closely behind. Screams and moans of ecstasy were muffled against one another’s lips. It took a few moments for the both of you to catch your breath. He waited until your breathing steadied to pull out.

He pressed his lips against your forehead. “There. That should get you through stats.”

You laughed. “It should, but is it going to get me through French?”

“Finish studying for stats and we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Let’s get you cleaned up and while you finish studying, I’ll go get you some real food. No more of this granola shit.”

He began walking towards the bathroom but stopped halfway across your room. He didn’t turn to look at you when he said:

“You’re one of the smartest people I know. I know it’s not much coming from a town full of slaves and blanks but if there’s anyone who can pass these midterms it’s you.”

He continued walking.

#jd #jason dean #heathers #jd heathers #jason dean heathers #jd fanfic #jason dean fanfic #heathers fanfic #jd x reader #jason dean x reader #heathers jd #heathers jason dean

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hannaswritingblog · 3 years ago

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Headcanon: being shy/anxious and Laurits befriending you

Fandom: Ragnarok

Tag(s): gender neutral reader, shy reader, anxious reader

A/N: Season 2 of Ragnarok is coming out today and I think I’m gonna renew my Netflix account just to watch it lol. Also Jonas/Laurits is cute and you can’t change my mind. My ideas for this evolved so many times... It was so annoying that I couldn’t settle for one. But maybe I’ll have more to write for the fandom this way. :)

First of all, you had no idea why he would even start talking to you

He gave off this cool kid vibes the second he entered the class

(Which got confirmed when he started hanging out with the Jutuls)

And you? You were just sitting in the corner all the time trying to survive

Initially you thought you’d get along better with his brother, given that you’d get along with either of Seier brothers at all

You first became aware of his attention towards you when one day after school he asked you to go for a walk with him

‘Hey! It’s Y/N, right? Do you think you could show me some cool places to hang out?’

Initially you were sure it was a prank so you refused

Not knowing him well, you wouldn’t feel comfortable anyway

Then you thought he was some kind of a creep when he kind of started following you around

Especially at school he always happened to be at the same table in cafeteria or always only a couple of steps away from you

Things took a turn when he was there to help you deal with Saxa

She jumped at you when bumped into her one day in the corridor, lost in your thoughts

She was telling you to mind your step and you didn’t have the gut to talk back to her

This was when Laurits came by and took your side

‘Fine, but have you ever considered minding your own step, Saxa?’

She just shrugged her shoulders then and left

To pay him back, you had to agree for that walk

It basically meant he walked you home after school

But he’s persistent and wouldn’t let you go until he got a proper walk

‘We have to make it count, okay? And you live so close to the school...’

You had a hard time refusing Laurits after agreeing the first time

So you ended up on another walk with him later this day

Once you opened up to each other, it was actually quite enjoyable

To the point you had to check your phone to see the time and this made you realise that it got dark long ago

‘Laurits, I need to home. It’s late’

‘Late? It’s only 9PM’

‘It’s already 9PM’

‘Wow, Y/N, you must be fun at parties’

‘I don’t even go to parties. There’s... loud music and... people’

That’s when Laurits made his point to take you to a party and help you enjoy it

His first chance happened the next weekend

He realised (and you got reminded) why you wouldn’t go to parties when after 10 minutes you got overwhelmed with all the noise and had to leave

And apparently, he was surprised when it occured to him it’s your personality/condition, not choice

‘I saw you the first day and thought that you were hiding something, a mystery. It drew me to you’

‘I’m not mysterious, Laurits, I’m just... not outgoing’

‘Well, it doesn’t mean we can’t hold on to each other. How about that, Y/N?’

Since then he tries to help you get out of your bubble

Sometimes he pushes you too hard

Being as confident as he is, he doesn’t always feel where your boundaries are and what’s too much

But it feels nice to have someone by your side despite not being a social butterfly

Especially Laurits, with whom you can never get bored

#Hanna's writing #hannaswritingblog #fanfiction #headcanon #ragnarok #ragnarok netflix #ragnarok fanfiction #ragnarok headcanon #laurits seier #laurits ragnarok #laurits seier fanfiction #laurits seier headcanon #laurits seier x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #shy reader #anxious reader #not requested

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hoodoo12 · 4 years ago

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Play and Funtime

I’ve seen lots of screenshots and fanart, but where is the written Robofizz smut? sigh Just have to do it myself jk jk

Although writing your first fic in a new fandom is nerve-wracking, I’m excited to do it and I hope you guys like it.

NSFW; Robofizz/imp!reader, TENTACLES YOU THIRSTY PEOPLE

@go-commander-kim @monsterlovinghours @mimiscappinisideblog @jesterfestivle @beetlebitchywitch @realmonsterboyhours @yankyo

Enjoy! `

It wasn’t your choice. You were clear on that.

But coerced by so-called ‘friends’ you found yourself in the very front row in front of the stage, with excited, chattering implings around you and excited, chattering friends on either side, all eagerly waiting for the show to start. You’d even been forced to enter the big top early, “to get the best seats!”, so now you were a combination of both bored and a wee bit anxious.

That clown always unnerved you.

The sparks, the glitches, the unnatural movements that were much more fluid than you thought should be possible--if anything was impossible here, with enough imagination or lacking that, determination and money--the AI that seemed a little bit too good . . . the Robotic Fizzarolli was not your idea of family entertainment.

But here you were. You vowed to keep your head down during the show, to avoid seeing the robot and his animatronic backup band, then when it was over you could all leave and go do something actually fun.

When the lights went down you dropped your chin. Everyone else was cheering, so no one would notice you were not.

Just as you remembered from your early imphood, the spotlight lit up and the Robotic Fizzarolli burst onto the stage in full song. The rest of the audience clapped and sang along. You remained steadfast in your resolve to just wait this out, your eyes locked on your clasped hands in your lap.

Which meant you were completely taken off guard when a hand slipped under your chin and lifted your head.

You found yourself face to face with the robot, who was focused solely on you, grinning widely, showing a large number of sharp teeth.

“N-n-not having f-fun?” it asked.

“Wha-what? N-no--I mean yes,” you stuttered in surprised response, inadvertently sounding like you had a glitch as well.

The robot cocked its head a bit too far to be natural, its optic sensors giving nothing away while it studied you. The crowd in the stands, including your friends, were watching with breathless anticipation.

“I th-think you could be having a better t-t-time,” the Robotic Fizzarolli concluded, but to your immense relief, it released your chin and returned to the stage to finish its number, to the return of screams and cheers of delight.

Soon after, the curtain closed and you sighed in relief. Loudly, you told your group, “You got your show. Now let’s get out of here.” “No, look, look!” the imp next to you exclaimed. “You got a token!”

Confused, you wrinkled your brow. “A token?” “She got a token!” “She got a token!” The imps you’d come in with crowded around, more excited than during the show. You even saw some of the imps who’d been leaving the tent turn and give you what looked like envious glances. You had no idea what any of this meant. “Look look look!” Finally you had the wherewithal to realize they were talking about something in your hand. It was exactly what they said--a flat, oval token etched on both sides with the jester’s face, and what looked like circuitry embedded in it. Very tiny letters around the edge spelled out, “Robofizz’s Play and Funtime!” You had to squint to read them. You had no idea where it came from. Your friends continued to talk over each other in their excitement.

“Robofizz gave it to you! When he came down and talked to you!” “Oh my gosh--yes! That must have been it!”

“You’re so fucking lucky! I’d kill to get one of those!” All the chatter didn’t make you less confused. The Robotic Fizzarolli must have given it to you somehow? You’d been so startled when it touched you and addressed you directly you had no clue it’d slipped something to you. Your hands had been clasped so tightly you hadn’t noticed the small token. Feeling overwhelmed, you offered it to them. “Then you can have it! Take it!” But as excited as your friends were, they all declined with explanations that it only worked for the imp it was given to, that there was some technology that imprinted on the imp who touched it first, so as jealous as they were, it was useless to them. You had never heard about anything like this before, but then again, you always bolted out the exit when the show was barely over.

Still feeling overwhelmed and now lost and stupid, you asked, “What do I do with it?”

“You get to go backstage and meet Robofizz!”

That was something you did not want to do, but your friends would have none of that loser talk. They insisted you were selected, it was a rare treat, you were not letting them down by pussing out on having a private meet-and-greet with the star of the show! Despite your weak protests, you were herded along to a discreet door hear the stage. They--not you--knocked, and when a small window opened and suspicious eyes appeared, they--not you--told whoever was there that you had a token.

“Show me,” a low voice ordered, though the door. Resigned, you held up the disk.

There was a grunt, and the sounds of multiple locks disengaging. In another moment, the door creaked open. There was no one in the hallway beyond. “Come on, let’s go!” the same voice ordered. Your friends pushed you through the doorway, shouting good luck and have fun! The door slammed shut on them and it same clanking of the locks came again to secure it. It was much more ominous on this side. The hallway was dimly lit with flickering bulbs that seemed ready to die, but there was no where else to go, so you carefully made your way down it.

⁂

You had no idea where you were supposed to go or what you were supposed to be doing. Keeping hold of the token so tightly your fist hurt, you figured it had gotten you past the door so it would get you past anyone or anything else that may ask what the hell you were doing here. But there was no one to be found. In the wavering overhead lights you wandered up some stairs and found yourself on stage, behind the curtain. The animatronic band was silent on their stands, creepier when immobile and staring than when they were booted up to perform, which you had never imagined could be the case.

The Robotic Fizzarolli was not with them. That surprised you. If these robots were here, where was the star of the show? Chills went down your spine and with a horrible thought, you glanced up into the catwalks above the stage, as if expecting to see it there like a spider waiting to drop onto its prey.

Nothing.

“Hello?” you finally called.

Nothing.

You started back towards the hallway, thinking this was a mistake. Your soft footsteps echoed oddly in the silence. You would leave and tell your friends there was nothing, that you knew it was all a waste of time.

“H-hello there. Wel-wel-welcome!”

Startled, you spun fast enough to trip, and were caught by the robot that haunted your nightmares.

It leered as it groped you into standing stead on your feet again. “You were the-the one who wasn’t having fun at my sh-show! I’m so-so-so glad you decided to join me!” Your tongue was stuck to the roof of your mouth but you managed to babble, “I wasn’t--I mean, your show was fine, it was good--” A glitchy, mechanical tsk cut you off. “No, no, no--I c-can tell. And th-that’s no good, not having fun. You seemed like you needed a little ex-extra convincing, and I’m pro-pro-programed to accommodate.”

You were sure your friends would know exactly what that might mean, but the leer had not left the robot’s face and it sounded more sinister than anything. You had seen the signage about “Peronal Companion”, but never spent too much time thinking about it--

It seemed to be waiting for a response. “I, uh . . .” You cleared your throat. “I have . . . a token?”

If it was even possible, the light of its eyes shone even brighter at the sight of you holding the disk. “Now those are fun,” it exclaimed, “for both of us. Let’s g-go.” Without another word and without warning, you were dragged deeper into the gloom further backstage. You stumbled to keep up, but that didn’t slow the robot down. There were turns down hallways that seemed to go on longer than should be possible for an amusement part theater, but finally, when you were out of breath and completely turned around, you were hauled to a stop outside another door.

“Before w-we go in, g-g-giving or re-receiving?”

The glitches in its voice made it even more difficult to understand what the hell it was saying. Several moments passed while you untangled the question in your head. The Robotic Fizzarolli waited with mechanical patience and an unsettling stillness, although its eyes never left yours. “Uhmm . . .” The token had been given to you, like a gift, so would it be odd to ask for more? But you were the guest here. “ . . . receiving? I guess?” That leer returned to its face. There was a faint clicking noise, as if something was shifting inside the robot’s body, and it said, “Excel-excellent choice.”

It opened the door and ushered you inside.

The room was designed for imps in mind. Well, imps of a certain predilection. Whips, handcuffs, ankle cuffs, ball gags, harnesses, various sizes of dildos--also in various shapes--hung neatly on the walls. Some wooden contraption with shackles at various points stood in a corner. There was a bench that looked as though it could be raised to various heights with the same shackles, but also a split for a tail to fit through if the imp secured on it was on their back. There were other instruments and adornments you had no name for, as your eyes swept the room.

“D-don’t l-look so worried,” the robot assured you, although you weren’t reassured in the least. “All that is only if-if it’s chosen. The selection is com-completely randomized.” You tore your eyes away from the implements in the room. “What do you mean?” “The-the-the token. Put it in the slot, and we’ll see wh-what prize you get.” That made little to no sense, till you realized Robofizz indicated a small slot on its side. Carefully, you raised your hand and pushed the token into it, which made the robot give a full body twitch like an extra jolt of electricity ran through it. You jerked your hand back; the sparks that flew from it haphazardly were one of the things you disliked most about it.

There was a clanking noise, like the token was hitting and bouncing off things inside its body, plus a odd, whirring noise. You realized a panel on its chest was actually a screen, and something was spinning inside it. It was a blur, but gradually began to slow enough that you could see whatever it was had words etched on it. Now it was slow enough you could read them as they moved into and out of the screen. bdsm tentacles

vibration

Round and round they went. The words continued to flick past, gradually becoming slower and slower.

With a dawning that took you way too long, it became apparent whatever the last word was going to be was the decision. Maybe other imps or demons would use the Robotic Fizzarolli as personal companion and know exactly what they wanted, but there was also a randomizer feature to keep things lively!

The robot continued to stand eerily still as this continued. It was like both of you were holding your breath in anticipation.

The roller slowed enough to halt. The final outcome that you weren’t even sure you were prepared for blinked on and off in tiny white lights on his chest--

“Tentacles,” Robofizz announced.

⁂

“Tentacles?!” you squeaked.

You got a nod in response. “A very pop-pop-popular feature. Would you like to remove your clothing, or simply re-relax and let me do all the w-work?” “But-but . . . there’s no bed or--” you cast your eyes around the room again, looking for anything that would lend weight to your argument that maybe just a simple handshake and an autograph would suffice. “No bed n-n-needed,” Robofizz countered. “I am designed to not need to sit or lay down, and-and I am pro-programmed to support you in m-multiple positions.” He was between you and the door, and now the aforementioned tentacles made their appearance, slipping out from some unknown port in his back. They were striped and limber, flexing as though they’d been kept in too small an area for too long and needed to work out the kinks. That couldn’t be the case, being a machine, so all you could figure was that it was designed to imitate life. The first of them--you weren’t even sure of their number--moved through the space between you and the robot. “Fizzarolli--” “Oh, such f-formality! No n-n-need for that either, baby.” That was the first time it’d used a pet name, again probably designed to make this all more personable. “Call me Fizz,” he cooed, all the while still showing too many teeth, invading your personal space, and managing to wrap you up with two tentacles. They pulled you into his torso, which wasn’t as cold as you expected it to be. Neither were the tentacles, now that you thought about it. More of them began to nose around you. “Some rules, baby. This can go as hard as you want. J-just say the word. N-n-nothing’s off limits. My-my-my next show is this evening, so you have me-me-me till then . . . you want ex-extra time, you gotta p-pay for it. “Q-Questions?” Dumbly, you shook your head. “Then let’s b-begin.”

⁂

You’d never be able to give enough detail about the encounter. You’d been asked, multiple times, and simply couldn’t put it into words. How could you describe the unusual sensuality of tentacles sliding under your clothing and removing it from you? How could you impress how strong but delicate they were, wrapping around your limbs with the perfect amount of pressure, raising you off your feet so you felt like you were floating? How you could possibly tell them that other tentacles roamed your skin, tickling you, exploring, awakening new erogenous zones you were unware exisited? How could you admit that all of that lasted an indeterminate amount of time, until you were writhing against the restraint, not to get away, now, but to try and pull him--the Robotic Fizzarolli was no longer an genderless it in your mind, but a him--closer while begging for more? When tears filled your eyes at the force of your pleas, he moved in closer to you, almost close enough to kiss. He seemed fascinated by your tears, and from between his sharp teeth came what must be the robot equivalent of a tongue. It lapped at your cheek, collecting the wet. You had no idea what that was all about, but in the next moment couldn’t devote any time to wondering. As promised, Robofizz accommodated. You’d asked, and another tentacle from Robofizz filled you in smooth, firm motion. You arched your back at the pleasurable friction it created inside you.

How could you continue to admit that your begging didn’t stop, but increased, wanting, no needing more while being fucked suspended in mid-air by an amusement park clown? That the random showers of sparks that you hated before became something you craved, each little spark leaving a mild burn on your skin that didn’t hurt, but only served to make your nerve endings sing out? Or that during it all he’d talked, the rasp and glitching words of dirty encouragement to, “take it deeper” and “you’re soaking w-w-wet” and “gr-greedy little slut”, which only added to the debauchery, that although it was obvious he could and would be rough and aggressive he gave you just what you needed, and all you wanted was more and more and more-- Even after all that, the finale that would be hard for anyone to believe, including yourself if you didn’t experience it: Robofizz telling you, after you’d been wrung dry from countless orgasms, that the tips of his tentacles--and other, specific, parts of his body--were laced with nano-circuitry to simulate nerves, and he could feel every single internal clutch around his tentacle--

The session ended with you sucking on the tips of multiple tentacles, like an assortment of cocks, while still being fucked to a few more orgasms. When you were finally released, your legs were weak and you were drenched between your legs. You’d drooled so much you were laved with spit. It took you a bit of time to collect yourself and get your clothes back on; your hands trembled with residual bliss for long moments. Robofizz, whose tentacles disappeared again, walked you back to the corridor you’d come in. “Five m-m-minutes till showtime,” he told you.

You had no idea if robots had a sense of humor, but you tried anyway. “That was a pretty good show you just put on.” You got that unnatural head cock again, but he grinned and reminded you,

“You want ex-extra time, you gotta p-pay for it.” “I know,” you replied, already trying to calculate how you could afford to return and book another private “Robofizz’s Play and Funtime!”. You were eager to try out different features. “How do I . . .?” “The-the d-door will remember you. It’s h-his job,” the robot answered your unfinished question, as if it was one he got frequently. You nodded as if you understood, then impulsively stretched upward to kiss him. He wasn’t startled--he was a robot, after all--but you gave him a smile and slipped back through the door to the front of the theater. You had to find your friends. It wasn’t your choice, sitting in the audience to watch a robotic jester entertain a crowd of imps.

But next time, it would be.

fin!

#writing #fanfiction #Robofizz #the Robotic Fizzarolli #helluva boss #tentacles #robo fizz #robofizz x reader #robo fizz x reader #Loo Loo Land

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doctenwho · 4 years ago

Text

Talk Me Down

Oof, not me disappearing for like a two months. I’m so sorry! I have the attention span of a goldfish and I’ve been fandom hopping. I sadly hyperfocus in and out, and then I’m back (currently stuck on Prodigal Son again, if anyone’s interested!). D: Still working on the prompts in waiting, if I haven’t gotten around to yours yet!

Anywho! Thank you so much for the prompt! It was a lot of fun to work on, and I’m sorry it took so long! Hopefully this was what you were looking for, I thought it was pretty fluffy!

Warnings: Panic/ Anxiety attacks, light angst

Word Count: 2,731 (Sorry it’s a bit short!)

Summary: Read the prompt above!

(Gif is not mine! All credit goes to the creator! :D)

You hated when you and the Doctor would get separated. It always filled you with a sense of dread. You knew he didn’t mean it—he'd never try to intentionally hurt you, but the two of you always somehow broke apart.

It wasn’t as bad when you were on earth—defeating whichever alien decided that earth and humanity was an easy target—but in space, when the Doctor would get carried away and leave you to fend for yourself like he tended to do with companions, you always felt like you were suffocating whenever he did that.

You loved travelling with him, and you were confident in your ability to fend for yourself, but you were just filled with a sinking feeling of doubt whenever he’d leave you alone on a planet you didn’t know.

Today was no different than any other day.

Then any other adventure.

You couldn’t for the life of you remember which planet the Doctor had been raving about when he’d landed the TARDIS. You’d followed along like you always did, excited for the adventure, but with that small inkling of doubt in the back of your mind.

He’d taken your hand with a wide smile and led you along. He talked your ear off, telling you of the planet’s history, the inhabitants. His personal favorites about the planet. You liked listening to him, listening to him ramble and gesture enthusiastically about what interested him.

And then you were running.

You were starting to think that there wasn’t a place in the universe where the Doctor wasn’t at least one person’s target. Where he hadn’t accidentally wronged someone.

He’d dragged you along by your hand before you’d come to a fork in the road. He’d looked both directions calculatingly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth before chancing a glance back at you. Then, his eyes seemed to go through you and to whomever happened to be chasing you, which seemed to make some sort of decision for him if the way his eyes hardened was anything to go off.

His hand broke away from yours, and then he was giving you the slightest push towards one side of the fork with flustered order of “Go!” falling from his lips as he turned hurriedly and shot down the other road.

Your feet moved on autopilot as you sprinted down the path he’d directed you towards, instantly missing the warmth and comfort of the Doctor’s hand in your own. You weren’t sure how long you continued down the road. How long you ran—how far you got.

You were sure no one was chasing you. You couldn’t hear any other sounds besides your own feet pounding along the gravel, and you heart thrumming in your chest in both exertion and anxiety.

They wanted the Doctor, not you. Whatever it was the man had done to wrong these people, it had been long before you’d started travelling with him. Long before you’d even met the man.

That still didn’t stop the clawing worry in your stomach. Was the Doctor okay? Would he come find you? Would he find you?

What if he wasn’t okay? What if you’d be stranded here forever? Not only did you not think you’d ever be able to make it back to the TARDIS, but there was absolutely no way you’d be able to get her to fly even if you did somehow make it back.

You weren’t a Timelord. The TARDIS wouldn’t fly for you, even if you tried.

You’d be stranded here.

Somewhere deep in the back of your mind a tiny voice was whispering to trust the Doctor. He hadn’t gotten the two of you into any serious danger yet. He took care of you, and you’d never been injured beyond bruises and scrapes. He always came for you. Always found you and swept you back into the TARDIS and far away from the threat.

He’d always taken care of you--

But the larger, louder calling in your head shouted your fears. He wouldn’t find you. He was dead. They’d captured him. You were alone. Alone on a planet you didn’t even know the name of. You’d never see the Doctor again. You’d never see your friends and family, or planet again.

You were stranded.

Your movements slowed, and before you could fight to keep yourself up, your knees buckled under you. You fell to the dirty road below; your knees and hands scraping on the gravel.

You were stuck here. On this strange planet. Without the Doctor.

Alone.

You crawled to the side of the road, hiding yourself the best you could manage in a bush of some sort. It dug uncomfortably into your body, but you couldn’t be bothered. What did it matter?

A gaspy cry fell from you lips as you coiled in on yourself, pulling your knees to your chest as you buried your face in the fabric of your pants. It was a sinking feeling of loneliness—fear of the unknown environment.

You could barely force in any air. It felt like you were dying. This was it. You were going to die of lack of oxygen—which was weird considering the Doctor had told you this planet had the same atmosphere as earth. There was plenty of oxygen, but you couldn’t manage to suck any in.

You struggled for each gasp of air you got.

Your head was an uncomfortable mix of lightheadedness and pounding headache, and you were sure you were crying. Tears slipping down your cheeks as your thoughts consumed you. The bigger, louder voice washing over the tiny pleading one like a title wave.

How were you going to make it out of this? How would you survive this strange alien planet without the Doctor by your side? Your fingers subconsciously dug into your forearms where they were wrapped around your legs, holding your knees snug against you.

“(Y/N)!” You heard, but it sounded far away. Far away and drown out. Why did it feel like you were underwater? You struggled to suck in another breath as a foreign touch settled on your hand, curling to just slightly grip around yours, “you need to take a breath, c’mon, deep in...”

You tried to steady your thoughts, taking a stuttery intake of air like the voice suggested, and it was quick to cool your lungs down. That suffocating feeling eased the slightest amount. The soft voice talking you through this was steadying you—anchoring you back, “good, good, my dear, now out? You’re doing perfect.”

It took a second before you let yourself blow out the air in your lungs, “perfect,” the voice told you, soft and comforting, “very good, another one? Nice and slow, alright? Breath with me, in and out.”

You sucked in another breath, waited for the hand around yours to tighten just the slightest before blowing that breath out too. Now that you could breathe through the mist of anxiety, you were desperate to pull in more air. You weren’t sure how long you’d been lost—unsure how long you’d gone without a decent breath.

“Good,” the voice whispered lowly as a second hand settled on your forearm, thumb rubbing softly along your arm, “you’re doing brilliantly, (Y/N). Come back to me now, alright?”

You weren’t sure where you’d gone, but you’d try for the voice.

You forced your eyes open, unsure when you’d really shut them. You couldn’t remember squeezing them shut, but it was almost a relief when you let your face relax. You continued with the deep breaths, replaying the words that had been spoken to you in your head—in and out.

Before you, dropped in a panicked kneel, was the Doctor. He looked out of breath, and frantic. Worried eyes searching your face for... you weren’t sure what he was looking so intently for. The worry didn’t look quite right on the usually so confident and narcissistic man.

It was definitely the Doctor though.

“Doctor?” you wheezed out, uncoiling just enough to settle a hand on his chest to test if he was real or not. You hand flattened against him, and then one of his hands was pulling away from you to settle over top of your hand.

“I’m here,” he promised, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I’m here now. You’re alright.”

You let yourself fall forwards into him with the confirmation that it was him. That the Doctor was real before you. Alive. Here. You weren’t stranded. You weren’t alone anymore. A rush of that suffocating separation anxiety flowed out with your next heaving breath.

You buried your face in his suit jacket as his arms wrapped tightly around you, “keep breathing, love, alright? Deep breaths for me.”

It was easier to suck in the breaths with the Doctor in close proximity. Even if it really should be harder to get any air through his clothes. You managed to wrap your arms around him too, holding him close.

The two of you were at an awkward angle, the Doctor still on his knees in front of you, and you in an awkward mess of desperate limbs. Neither of you seemed to mind the odd position much. The longer you sat, the stiffer you got, but it was the furthest thing from your mind.

“You’re doing so good,” the Doctor whispered into your hair, “I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

“You’re okay,” you whimpered out against his jacket.

“I am,” the Doctor agreed tenderly, “it was a misunderstanding. I’m okay, and you’re okay. We’re both okay, alright? Deep breaths.”

You just curled yourself in closer to him, afraid that you’d lose him if you let go. Your thoughts still ran rampant in your head, anxious and panicked, but the longer you forced in breaths, and sat in the Doctor’s arms with his hands trailing along your back and petting down your hair, the more everything eased away.

The Doctor didn’t say much else as you slowly calmed down in his arms. With your breaths finally starting to even out, he didn’t keep reminding you. But whenever you slowed, or swallowed a shallow intake, he’d calmly remind you again.

You didn’t know how long the two of you sat there on the ground, on some planet you didn’t even remember the name of. The Doctor made no move to get up, to move, and to speak until you’d calmed. Until you were okay, and breath steadily.

“I’m sorry.” The Doctor told you once more, his chin settled on the top of your head as he held you close.

“What for?” You finally asked when it no longer felt like you were fighting for every breath. His heart beats below your ear calmed you down, focused your attention. Reminded you he was here. That even if your head was telling you that you were alone, that you definitely weren’t.

“We shouldn’t have split up,” the Doctor told you, “I should’ve kept you with me, but I needed you to be safe, and I knew they were after me, and not you, so I sent you away.”

“I thought you were gone,” you squeezed your eyes shut, forcing another breath just because you could, “I thought you were gone, and I didn’t know where I was. I... I thought I’d be stuck here forever. I was alone.”

“I know,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your head, “I’m sorry. I was wrong. We should’ve stayed together. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). It was stupid, I know you’re different from other companions, and I still thrusted you into something that made you uncomfortable. I just needed you to be okay.”

“I’m okay,” you breathed out, but you weren’t sure if that was his sake, or a reminder for yourself. You’d never had a panic attack quite as heavy. Never one that broke you down like this one had.

“You’re okay,” the Doctor repeated, tightening his hold. You didn’t know if he really believed your words—his tone was pretty neutral. “You’re okay now. I’ve got you. I’ll always come for you okay?”

“Okay,” you swallowed, letting your forehead settle against his chest.

“Think you’re okay to stand? You weren’t hurt, were you?”

“No,” you shook you head, pulling away enough to look up at the Doctor, “I’m okay... you were right, no one came after me. I... I just, I tripped, I think.”

You pulled your hands away to look down at them, frowning at the scratches from the gravel. The Doctor took your hands into his own, leaning away just enough to look down at your palms. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” you told him with a small laugh that didn’t sound quite right. Not as okay as you’d hoped it would’ve. You ignored the kicked-puppy look the Doctor shot in your direction as you pushed yourself up, using the Doctor’s shoulder as support before offering a hand to help him up too.

It wasn’t his fault—he'd been protecting you. You’d always been a bit clingy anyways. The separation anxiety wasn’t new either—you'd just... never expected it could get so much worse on a planet that wasn’t your own. Being alone on a planet that you didn’t know; one not even in your own galaxy had hit you harder than ever.

The Doctor took your offered hand, accepting the help up, but he didn’t look convinced by your words.

The need to not let go was clearly just as evident in him as it was in you. You went to pull you hand back after he was standing, but he didn’t let up his grip. You didn’t mind though, just squeezing his hand in return.

He pulled you closer by your hand, only letting go when you were close enough to wrap his arms around. This hug was a lot more comfortable, standing instead of whatever odd sitting thing you’d been doing before. You could push closer, and he held you tighter.

You tucked in against his body much easier.

You melted into the embrace, letting him hold you. You weren’t sure if it was for your sake at this point, or his own, but you didn’t question it. Whether for him, or for you, it was a tenderness you needed right now. Comfort and protection from the Doctor.

“You scared me,” the Doctor whispered against your head.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you murmured.

He pulled back enough to cup your face in his hands, thumbs trailing under your eyes with a feathery touch, wiping away the tear tracks with a frown, “I didn’t think my plan through, and it put you at risk, even if it wasn’t my intention. The need to make sure you were safe was stronger than the logic that you don’t know this planet. That I was pushing you into the unknown.”

“I know you were trying to protect me, I just...”

“Not the right way,” the Doctor decided. You felt him gave a light shake of his head, “it’s not protecting you if it manifests like this, (Y/N). It was the wrong choice because you panicked, because of me. I won’t do that again, I assure you.”

“No more splitting up?” You tilted your head at him. It made you feel very clingy, and you were sure your voice sounded more relieved than you would’ve liked, but the Doctor just gave you a tiny smile, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“No,” he leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead, “no more splitting up—especially not on planets you don’t know. I can’t promise we’ll never get separated again, but I can promise I’ll always keep you safe, and I’ll always find you again.”

“I know,” you swallowed, nuzzling up against him and pulling him back into a tight hug. “I trust you.”

“I’m glad,” you could hear the playful smile in the Doctor’s voice, “now, what do you say we head back to the TARDIS and get off this planet. We can clean your hands up too.”

“Sounds good,” you returned the small smile. You wiped your hands against your pants halfheartedly.

The Doctor wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side easily. You curled in close, pressing the side of your face against his side. His thumb swept along your shoulder, arm keeping to tight and sheltered against him.

Protective, but comforting all the same.Comforting to the both of you.

<><><><>

Heyy! Thanks for taking the time to read this! I hoped you liked it! As always, if it wasn’t what you were looking for, feel free to prompt me again!

Hopefully the anxiety/panic attack was realistic enough, I’ve only got me to go off, but I know it’s different for everyone! Also, alternative title suggestions would be appreciated if you’ve got one!

#Tenth Doctor #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #ten #10th doctor #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor x you #dw #doctor who 2005 #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #TARDIS #writing prompt #writing requests

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outivv · 3 years ago

Note

SBCUVBHFD- So,,, The Boys' crush who just makes it their daily mission to tease the hell out them. Like constantly hugging them from behind, kissing their hand, telling them they look handsome, often kissing their ear from behind then running out, etc. They'll even say," Hurry up and kiss me you handsome bastard." They basically just have no shame when it comes to The Boys.

Synopsis: y/n constantly teasing the tall boys + Scaramouche (because I’m in that kinda mood today, ok? 🥲)

Warnings: I cure once in Dainsleifs part, also probably a lot of grammar, and spelling mistakes this is a long one and I didn’t proofread it :’)

Game/ fandom: genshin impact

Characters: Diluc, kaeya, childe, zhongli, Dainsleif, and Scaramouche (I hope it was ok that I added Scaramouche!)

Pronouns for reader: gender neutral/ not mentioned

A/n: hello! Thank you for requesting! I’m extremely tired because I just got my first shot of the covid vaccine, but I was in a desperate need to write fluff, so fr thank you for requesting ☺️! I’ve got a slight Scaramouche brainrot right now, so I added him in the headcanons if that’s alright! But, aside from that I hope you enjoy, and remember to take care of yourself! Drink water, eat something if you haven’t yet, or take a nap!

— zhongli —

The first few times you go out of your way to tease zhongli, he’s definitely taken aback before saying something like, “ah... can I help you?” He genuinely thought that you may need something, but you only shook your head and hugged him. He wasn’t going to deny you of your wishes that’s for sure, so he wrapped his arms around you.

He’s definitely a bit flustered every time you tease him, but will try to stay composed. He’s never going to say no to you if you want a hug, or just some attention. While you’re not dating it’s definitely going to seem like you are.

He loves when you call him handsome. He can’t comprehend how much he loves it. He’ll typically smile, and say, “thank you Y/n you look beautiful/handsome/ amazing yourself.”

He really likes when you comment on his eyes. That is something that he loves. It’s difficult to explain my reasoning, but zhongli finds eyes attractive, like it’s something that he thinks is just really pretty on people. And I will frequently gaze at your eyes from afar. So when you compliment his eyes he gets super happy :)

Hates it when you run away from him after teasing him. He hates it but finds it cute at the same time. He thinks if you’re really that bold to tease him, why not stay for a bit? Surely you’re not shy? You just complimented his eyes, how could you run away from him?

When you say “kiss me you handsome bastard.” His reaction could go one of two ways. Either he’s like, “y/n! Eh hem... that... right.” While blushing profusely. Or he’ll smile a bit chuckling, and may even take you up on the opportunity. If all depends on when you say something like that. If he’s jut used to your teasing remarks then yeah he’s going to be shocked, but if he is used to it then he’ll slightly brush it off.

— childe —

Hmm... he views your teasing as a competition. But he loses every time. He’ll try his hardest, but you tease him a little bit too much and he will melt on the spot.

He’s a pretty touchy guy himself, so he doesn’t mind when you back hug him, but if he’s around some fellow harbingers he’s going to be a bit more... stiff? No... a better word is agitated. He needs to keep up a bit of an image around them, so he’s going to be pretty upset when you try to tease him.

I think he likes when you kiss his hands the most. He feels almost... sad though? His hands have dealt so much bloodshed, and you’re kissing them? Do you know what he’s done? Who he’s killed. Just so he can be alive... and in this moment with you. It makes him have a melancholy feeling, but he can’t get enough of it.

Childe craves for you to call him pretty, handsome, or just attractive. He actually likes being called pretty the most. It makes him so flustered because he’s like, “me? Pretty? ...really?” And when you nod and say, “yes you dork, I’m talking about you! You’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever met.” In a teasing tone. He gets all giddy and happy. He feels like a twelve year old who’s crush just told him that they liked him. And he loves it.

Don’t even try to run away from him. He’ll catch up. And when he does. You won’t escape the cheesy pick up lines. He knows they’re cheesy, and that’s the whole point. He knows they’re stupid, and that’s why he saves them for this event specifically.

He chuckles when you say “kiss me you tall handsome bastard.” Really? You think he’s tall? Well that added a bit to his ego. He’s chuckling but he knows that he looks as red as a tomato right now. He knows how hard he’s blushing, but he doesn’t care.

— kaeya —

Also someone who views it as a competition. But he takes it seriously. He’ll get flustered a decent amount, but you have to do things very precisely. If he teases you first, then you gotta come back 10x stronger than he was. And he’ll be blushing while trying to brush it off as best as possible. He typically isn’t prepared for you to tease him back, so it’s an easy way to win.

Loves hugs. It’s so sweet and innocent, and it makes Kaeya all soft. It’s a small break from work, his past, the world, just everything. Your arms are his safe space, and he frequently visits.

I don’t care what you say he loves when you kiss bear his eyepatch. His right side is his blind spot, so you being on the right side of him means that he trusts you. So having you near his eyepatch really shows how much he trusts you. Plus whether you know what he’s hiding under that eyepatch or not doesn’t matter, it shows that you don’t care and still love him whenever you kiss near it.

I think he kinda likes being called handsome. Like... how do I explain without fueling this mans ego. He knows. Others have told him how handsome he is. Now calling him pretty, or gorgeous? Loves it. He hasn’t been told that he’s pretty very much, so it’ll make him a little flustered. And it makes him feel super happy :)

Doesn’t care if you run away from him. You can try of course, but he’ll find you eventually. He’s going to stall for time, because he probably knows where you are, but just wants you to get all anxious. Not in a bad way of course, but in a way of “you know that he’s going to tease you relentlessly, and make fun of you a little bit.” I mean Kaeya will literally laugh at how you ran away so quickly from him. He’ll do it. Don’t test him. He doesn’t mean any harm from it, but does like teasing you.

Saying something like “kiss me already you handsome bastard” will only make him raise an eyebrow and say, “oh? Why not kiss me yourself?” Which it’s up to you to decide what to do from here. I’m not helping you, that’s on you >:)

— Diluc —

Help this poor man. He just wants to admire you from afar and tell you how amazing you look, not being so flustered he feels too nervous to talk! Almost everything gets him flustered, but he’ll get used to it after a while.

He really likes when you quickly kiss his forehead, and then go back to what you were doing or just keep talking. It makes him think for a second, but he really likes it.

He really likes when you just grab onto his arm, or hand out of nowhere. He knows it’s to tease him, but feels like he’s protecting you in a way, especially if you’re in a crowd of people. He’ll feel a little bit of pride swell up in his chest, which it’s your choice to tease him for his sudden change in confidence or not. Either way he’ll have a slight blush dusting his cheeks.

He gets so flustered when you call him handsome. Especially if you call him pretty, or anything else. Handsome is the term he’s most familiar with I guess, but pretty??? Oh boy, that’s new. A good new? Yeah definitely.

When you run away from him he’ll be a little sad, but then realize he can just catch up to you. Which he will, but he doesn’t know what to do once he actually does. He’ll probably just stare at you, and say something like, “why’d you run away” while panting like a dog. Hey just because he can run fast doesn’t mean he didn’t work really hard to catch up to you. Especially if you ran a long ways, or if you can run fast.

When you say stuff like “kiss me already you handsome bastard” he’ll be decently flustered, but depending on where you are, he’ll either kiss you on the cheek, or say “later.” And then move on. He does keep his promise though.

— Dainsleif —

Help this poor man pt 2. He doesn’t know what to do, or how to react. Should he tease you back? Should he let himself be flustered? Dammit what should he do!

Dainsleifloves subtle touches, he loves when you hold onto his hand, or brush some hair out of his face. Maybe even a little peck on the cheek. He knows that isn’t really teasing but still!

Absolutely goes soft if you touch his right arm. Treating it with such care, even though to him it looks like an eyesore. He never thought about looking at it differently, the blue veins shimmering under your touch is a gentle reminder of how he’s here today.

He loves being called handsome, pretty, beautiful, gorgeous, just everything. He loves it all. He lowkey craves your attention, but doesn’t want to ask for it, so when you call him pretty/ beautiful/ gorgeous/ etc it makes him feel supper soft and happy.

He didn’t understand why you run away from him. I mean you’ve gotta come back eventually, you left all your travel gear/stuff with him! And those are all important things might I add. Plus you left Dainsleif standing there by himself. Another important thing you forgot as you ran away.

Calling him a handsome bastard as is makes him flustered, but adding a ‘kiss me already’ before that?! Wow this man is just putty in your arms. Doesn’t know what to do other than... fill out your request. Don’t doubt him. He’ll do it.

— Scaramouche —

This man couldn’t give to flying f- oh what’s that? Giving him attention, and love that he really wants from you but flat out doesn’t know how to ask and didn’t want to seem weak? Yeah he’ll take that thank you. :D

He’s a bit all over the place when you tease him. He’s very conflicted. Because, home one side of him wants that attention, what if the other harbingers find out? What if you’re just messing with him? He’s gotta keep up an image you know.

While he’s very conflicted on how he feels about your affection, he does know one thing. He loves when you back hug him. Whether you’re taller than him, shorter, or same height, he loves it. If anyone who’s a lower rank than him tries to say anything, he’ll give them a death glare, and make a mental note for later.

He’ll subconsciously tear you a bit by wrapping a arm around you. It’s a weird way of saying “I’ve got a crush on them to if anyone says anything to hurt them, or if you try to hit on them I’ll personally murder you.” To other people without... saying that. Though he would say that, that’s not my point.

He has a weird relationship with being called pretty/handsome/etc. like it makes him feel happy and flusters him, but he’s also like “no I’m not. Me? Pretty? No. Flat out no.” He can’t just take the compliment.

Hahaha try to run away from him. I dare you. You brought this upon yourself when you said he had gorgeous eyes (he does but not the point!) so you better except your fate now. He’s either going to force you to say it again, or dare you to say it again.

Hated when you said “kiss me you handsome bastard” he hates it. But only because it made him want to kiss you more than he already did. So... that was mildly annoying to him, but it’s fine he lowkey loves you.

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symphonyofthewrite · 4 years ago

Text

If These Walls Could Talk

Freaking GORGEOUS cover art by Junki Sakuraba on Instagram and Deviantart!! Definitely go check him out!! His art is incredible, and from what I can tell he’s really nice dude. He absolutely went above and beyond with this prompt. 10/10 would commission again. (And probably will once I save up enough money XD)

The wonderful art later in the chaper is by niuan_ on instagram!!

It wasn’t made/commissioned for this fic--(though I’ve since commissioned her to make cover art for me, so stay tuned for those!)--but when I saw it I couldn’t believe it!! That’s one of my favorite images in this chapter, and I couldn’t believe another artist made a piece for the same idea independently!!

I'll put the links to their profiles either in the replies or a reblog (since tumblr is dumb about links)!!

Also, FYI, I'll be using this post as my "reblog post" meaning I'll reblog this post with the later chapters of this fic, so they're all in one place. So if you want to read more of this fic, check the reblogs on this post, chances are more chapters will be there!!

Comments and reblogs are MORE than appreciated!! If you have a spare minute you will really make my week, and motivate me to keep writing!!

Fandom: Castlevania Netflix

Summary: Vampires do not have reflections, and castles do not have hearts. But Dracula is no ordinary vampire, and Castlevania is no ordinary castle. If castles can fight, maybe they can think too.

The series, and Adrian’s childhood, told from the perspective of the castle.

Chapter Summary:

“My mother’s name was Lisa, and she was mortal…She actually showed up at his front door. She found the castle and banged the door with the pommel of her knife…She was remarkable. She beat on the door until my father let her in, and then demanded he teach her how to be a doctor.”

Chapter 1: "Lisa”

“Is this how the castle felt to you before my mother first arrived at your door?”

The castle doesn’t like children.

Well, maybe that’s too strong to say. It simply isn’t the place for them. Its existence is a signpost: leave me alone. It is not used to having company—much less a family—inside it, nor is it ready to welcome for a crying, puking, giggling thing into the world. It does not intend to be a cozy place to coddle him into adulthood.

The castle itself pierces the sky, its turrets and towers the dripping stain of the sun’s blood across the moon.

The bare walls hold no colorful tapestries for a child to enjoy, no paintings of its many inhabitants to tell of—for there was only ever one (and maybe that ought not change. It is safe to say the castle doesn’t like change). The royal red and gold carpets are more suited to kings; not designed for spit-up, mud, and scuffing. ‘Don’t play with that’ would be a motto around here; so many contraptions either easy to break, or which could break the child. The fireplaces, while almost always lit, only ever coughed warmth onto the floor before them—they provided no snug space to curl up on a winter’s day. Even the mirrors here are empty, holding nothing but a reflection of the bare walls they sit upon.

There are certain people who were seemingly born as they are; they never owned toys, never crawled on the floor, never walked with clumsy steps—their footfalls were always this calculated count—never burped on their mother’s nice shirts, and surely never had anything so dull as a childhood. They were always just…here, on the world. There was no innocence, and no losing it. So it was with Dracula.

The very thought of Dracula ever owning toys, even in some nice cottage far away from here, with a doting mother and an absent father, with a funny last name like Cronqvist, defied sense to the castle. So no, no toys here, nor any simple charts for learning; the books divulged their secrets to more mature minds. Just blood and books, gold and gears, forgotten magic means, mirrors that reflect nothing, and a pile of prayers to a good God they used to justify their ungood, and ungodly deeds.

All these things—or their absence—do not make for the picture of a baby-proof home.

The castle has grown accustomed to being cold and dark, and listening to one master alone. It’s not a quaint place lovers look on and think we’ll raise our kids here someday.

Its master isn’t the ideal father either—after all, the castle only reflected its king. Its master knows only of blood and nails, fangs and wails, words too big for a child’s mouth, and worlds too dark for a child’s heart.

Can he be soft? Can he be gentle? Can he keep those claws, which have ripped out better men’s hearts, from piercing a child’s—his child’s…how could one who killed so many have a child?—skin? He knows many spells, but is there one that can turn those screams into laughter?

He has been soft before. Once. And that is with this woman.

Many women have walked the castle’s halls: shivering, shrieking damsels at his feet; cold and calculating queens; fragile bodies on the floor, that he broke with the same regard a child does a vase that matters to someone else.

Those ordinary people who do come often have pitchforks in their mouths, and fiery words in their closed fists. Curses stacked on the end of stakes, banging like the castle is the church bell signifying their own funerals.

It is for this reason that the castle does not like outsiders, does not open its doors easily. But it cannot deny anyone entry. Unlike the humans’ doors, which find his master guilty until proven innocent.

They always came at night. At night, when the loudest sound is your own breathing. At night, when their fires echoed loudest, and their shouts burned brightest.

They came when the flowers were closed, when only the most eerie and vicious of animals played with the skins of their prey, and the moon waxed the world in cold, drunk shine. The sun could not watch them, could not show their blood-struck hands in their full glory.

She came at sunset. When the sun still glazed her deeds in sanguine auburn, but was just deciding to turn its gaze and let the kids have their fun. Not quite day, when the sun would kill things like Dracula, but not quite night, when the hours are named after witches, and lust is strongest—be it for the body, or the blood within it. Somewhere in between death and life, violence and peace.

This woman came with a knife in her hand, yes. But a knife, at least, was not a sword. It was not a pitchfork, a spear, a whip, or a stake; all weapons that signify, if the fight wasn’t there, you were bringing it with you. Not a war-starved weapon, pointing with mal-in—and -con—tent towards the castle doors and all the things inside it. Not a thirsty thing. Something that by default faced the other direction. Something that can start a fight if it wants to, but doesn’t crave it.

The golden woman came at sunset, with a knife in her hand, and looked upon this thing, this castle that others called ‘ugly’, and ‘monstrous,’ and ‘grotesque,’ looked upon it with awe, and gasped in wonder.

She knocked. She didn’t bang her fists upon the stone, didn’t ram pitchforks and assorted insults against the innocent doors, like how-dare-they protect their master.

She knocked, and the doors opened before she could raise her fist a second time. Maybe, just this once, not because they didn’t have any other choice.

The doors—foreboding, menacing, and all the other spooky -ings one can think of—opened to a world strewn in light; the demon’s castle looked brighter, more beautiful, more alive, than half the churches she’d been to.

Her footsteps were gentle against the castle’s floors. Not a slow, forced gentleness, but also not a piercing, purposeful march. There was no apprehension to her footsteps; her feet carried her as if anxious to take her to as many rooms as they could.

At first her steps were the only sound, enough to fool some into thinking they’re alone.

And it became clear both that she was not alone, and not a fool.

But when she saw the demon, she put the knife away, and used her words.

She used her words to repeat those she herself had heard: stories. But not the kind that make monstrous men run at the doors with naughts and crosses, the kind pious people buried along with all evidence that the world wasn’t made of black and white.

Not all the stories told that this place was cold and dark and full of death.

Amongst all the stories about death, there were others that said Vlad Tepes brought this castle to life with science, forbidden knowledge, and a little bit of lightning. Stories that say there is life here.

And, in exchange for proof that these life-stories true, Dracula asked for a trade, a trade that would prove the other stories true too. He gave up the killing a while ago—(the castle has been in one place a very long time)—but he was still not used to giving for free, and definitely not used to getting for free. Vampires trade in blood and names, not diamonds and declarations. Vampires trade in things they can swallow. This castle, too, had been a gaping hole set to swallow the world and everything that entered. Never once had it given.

And she dared to say, that this place, its master, should learn to give, when the humans have done nothing but take from them—or try their best to. He ought to be the one to invite her in, to ask what she would like, to dispense pleasant words and kind actions, when the humans forgot they invented hospitality, and showed no invitation for him to even enter their homes.

But she didn’t come with a mouth full of garlic, and hands full of superstition. Her feet did not drill holes in the floor with their sharp toll, they wandered the scenic route.

She was used to being cheated. Dracula and his castle were too. But that was not why she was there. She was not there for cheap tricks, or death. She wanted something real. A little bit of the life the castle has to offer.

Her defiance wasn’t that of a terrified citizen, or angry queen, either; rather the calm resolve of someone who is asking for something they know in their heart is good, and knows they will get it. The kind of person who believes there is good in everyone, and that this good will ultimately always win, and who won’t leave until they convince this good to show its face.

The castle has watched countless men and women cower at the foot of count Dracula. Some, do have a measure of god-sanctioned defiance; they come with whips and scourges to defeat him. The castle and the king are bound together in their resolve against them.

Except one. Except this woman. One human whom both master and castle found themselves reluctant to deny, cast away, or kill, maybe even…taken with.

She may be human, but she was not like the rest; she did not light the night on fire with her thirst for blood.

So maybe, just maybe, they could let one ray of sunlight slip through the cracks.

She was also not devoid of life, and maybe that was the key.

‘Devoid of life’ was an accurate portrayal of the castle. Bats flying out of blackness is a good description of a cave, and caves don’t usually come with the brochure ‘teeming with life’, or ‘great place to take your kids!’. The castle had a soul-sucking quality to it; those who entered often found themselves leaving less alive than they arrived. It took after its vampire master. Those who didn’t actually lose their lives within its walls, often remarked upon leaving that the flowers bloomed brighter, the birds sang louder, the grass was greener, and that they missed the sunlight.

Sunlight. Such a base thing; vampires don’t need the light or warmth to be happy.

Sunlight. Such a base way to die; wanting to get out of the cold and the dark.

“Is this how the castle felt to you before my mother first arrived at your door?”

Castlevania was alive once. Once Dracula set the pumps, and its heart began to beat. He turned the gears, and its lungs inhaled. He forged the lightning, and it began to think. Once the books, full of unknown knowledge, jumped off the shelves to get the vampire king’s attention. He filled the bottles and beakers, and they bubbled, as if laughing at a joke only they shared.

They were both alive, once.

That waned, with time. The gears got arthritis, the books caught pneumonia, the experiments atrophied. The castle ached before she came.

And Dracula, alone in the halls, picking up books and putting them down again without so much as a polite glance through them, because he read them all before. Dracula looking into fractured mirrors that could take him anywhere, but deciding there wasn’t anywhere he wanted to go. Dracula, looking into old mirrors that don’t reflect him—like there was never anything to reflect, nothing alive here to begin with, and there isn’t a master for this castle after all. Nothing but a grave. Dracula sitting alone in his study, staring into the fire. No one to talk to. No sound but flipping pages and crackling fires—nothing alive. Alive but dead. This castle. Its master. Undead is the proper term.

The other women who came through here reflected the castle, or else the castle took the life out of them the moment they entered. Queens with malice-stained past, and cracked, icy future in their eyes. Just as cold as the walls. Subjects, humans throwing gruesome insults, silky flattery, or fluttering pleas at his feet. Just as empty as the mirrors.

Only one refused the castle’s bite. Only one walked in looking for life, rather than death. Looking for a thing no one thought existed here. Already presumed dead. Put six feet beneath the ground. But maybe it was here all along; maybe the light hid in the castle’s corners while the dark came out to play, and she just had to coax it out of its hiding places. Maybe the bell was ringing all this time, she was the only one who came close enough to hear it; the only one who came to put flowers on the grave.

Maybe when she felt the machinery pumping she knew the rhythm was a heartbeat. Maybe when she heard the gears clanking she knew it was the sound of inhaling and exhaling. Maybe when she saw the lightning, she wondered what it was thinking. Maybe she looked at these books, these instruments, and saw what the vampire king saw once; something alive. They weren’t dead yet—un- or otherwise. Just sick, and in need of proper treatment. She was a doctor after all. Maybe her first subject was the very books she learned from.

Lisa, who looked at this blotch on the sky, with Death in its towers, and darkness splattered on its walls, and thought that’s where I’ll learn to heal people. Lisa, who gaped in amazement at the beast of a building. Lisa, who didn’t shudder upon entering. Lisa, who didn’t scream when its master touched her, but turned to him with calm resolve, and told him she’d teach him to be more human. Lisa, who’s life eclipsed the undeath in this place.

And there was a trade that occurred that day. For Dracula’s immortal knowledge, Lisa would teach him how to live a mortal life. To travel the world as a man, to walks as a man, to eat and drink, laugh and cry, as a man. Immortality for mortality. They gave each other the world, as so many lovers promise to do. Vlad would make her immortal, and Lisa would make him mortal, with no exchange blood.

(Except to create a thing with both their blood running through it.)

So maybe, after all this talk of life, it is fitting that she wants to create life inside this castle.

Fitting, maybe. Fitting for her. But the castle is not mortal yet, and wishes it could protest that it isn’t the right size, refuse to try on the idea.

Dracula is apprehensive as well, for the castle and he are used to each other, they take after each other, because the cold, and the dark, and the death, and the alone does something to you after a while; you start talking to the walls. After the cold queens and quaking colleens leave, or leave their bloodstains the floor. After the beasts and their silver-stained bullets turn back into righteous men in the sun. After he simply outlives everyone else. When all the living things hate, fear, or else betray you, when all the living things can die, and you, who are undead, cannot, it’s the lifeless things that stand firm by your side. When the day ends and the shadows come out to play, when you’re the only one left, in the end you still have the walls. And then…the walls are all you have. And if you talk to them long enough you make a sort of pact, spoken or silent, with those speechless stones: ‘you’re the only one I can trust.’

Dracula speaks to them one day, says he wonders if he can do this, be a father at all, not to mention a good one. The castle cannot reply. But something deep inside the walls wonders if it might be nice to hear Dracula laugh. It might be nice to put on some different clothes. It might be nice for someone new to listen to from time to time. It might be nice to live again.

The castle is concerned. Used to doing things one way, being one way, and only hearing one voice. But that doesn’t mean it is unwilling, that it intends to kill the child.

It never kills anything—Dracula does that. It cannot do anything on its own, and that includes change.

The castle doesn’t like change.

…But that doesn’t mean it won’t.

And if its going to change, its master must change first. They must change together.

Vampires do not have reflections. But Dracula has a castle, and that castle will be damned if it isn’t his mirror.

Reflections are simple to change; put on some makeup, some war paint, a new change of clothes, get a piercing somewhere. Simple, yes, but not easy, to change completely, because that doesn’t mean anything’s changed inside.

The castle did not come equipped for child-rearing; there are no rooms full of toys and cradles and school supplies.

So if this is to be, they must build their son’s world themselves.

Together they set aside a room for the child’s arrival. Just one, single room. And the castle too knows, from the start, this room will be different from all the rest. They will put paintings on the walls, and banners in the halls; things to interest him, to tell him of his parents, at least, even if there are few other relatives to spend Christmas with. The carpets will be darker, instead of the stringent red, and they will make their words smaller, the books easier to understand. The rest of the castle is warm in color, but cool in atmosphere. This room will be cool in color, but warm in atmosphere. The fire will always be set in its place, and they will try their best to make sure the warmth reaches him; if the fire fails, they will knit blankets; if the blankets fail they will make him tea, or warm milk with honey; and when everything else fails they will hold him. If there are tears here, scornful stares will not greet them, instead, kisses and lullabies will be behind door number three. If this room lives, it will be because of something much softer than pounding metal and lighting.

If a child is to live here, they must change that reflection. Everything Dracula’s castle appears to be, this room will be the reverse. Separate. Something… other than the castle.

This room will bottle all the laughter had in this castle. This room will be made of and for living, not the death the rest of the place is steeped in. So much so that this room will not stand for bloodshed.

Lisa brings in supplies from her town; color and cloth, boards and brushes, needle, and thread, and paper; all the things one needs to build a universe.

It is Dracula who takes the paint, who changes the color to something other than the blacks and reds of the rest of the Vampire’s world, cementing on the walls themselves You will not be dark here, my castle. You will be kind to him, Castlevania. The castle doesn’t know its master to work with his hands like a human, but Vlad is not the same within this room either—this room is part of the trade. He doesn’t use magic, or science, as if he is telling himself with every hammer that they are going to change together, the way one does when talking to the mirror.

Lisa sits in a chair and stiches together cloth and fur to make little creatures, toys for the boy to play with. Soft things, not sharp. They are reflections too, littler, simpler ones, of the creatures howling and prowling outside the castle’s walls, or scurrying within them.

But it is the ceiling that is the crowning jewel of the room. Something they paint together—splashing it onto each other’s clothes and noses.

His parents love the stars. They often walk outside the castle walls, fingers knit into each other’s, to gaze at them. They are scholars at soul, and have charted the constellations. They want their child to be able to do the same, to watch the stars, even if he’s not outside. At the end of every day they want him to be sung to sleep by the symphony of the night.

For them, maybe, but to the castle, one of the most interesting things about this room, is the mirror. This is strange, as, while there are other mirrors in this house, they are nothing more than a silver decoration; they have no purpose here, unless they float in shards and possibility. This is an ordinary mirror. It does hold something now, however, and that’s Lisa—only giving more credence to the idea that she is the only living thing in this castle. The castle wonders if they think it will reflect the child, as if they are hoping he will take after his mother and the room.

The mirror, and the windows. In the rest of the castle, the windows are always closed, curtained, or too small to let any real light in. But here they are big, and inviting to all the wiles of the day. Dracula protested—fearing he would burn. Lisa insisted—hoping he would shine.

The mirror, the room, are empty now. The windows closed. The books and charts dormant as the rest. It is not dead, but it’s not alive either. Not even undead. Just a question. An almost.

The room lays on Frankenstein’s table; just one lightning strike—(or one child’s laugh)—away from breathing.

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1987vampire · 4 years ago

Text

Your Good Little Boy | Tomura Shigaraki and Dabi

Fandom: My Hero Academia | Boku No Hero Academia Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: NSFW. Threesome/Polyamory, (ShigaDabi x Fem!reader), (Dom!Dabi x Switch!Reader x Sub!Shigaraki) (Reader doms Shiggy but subs for Dabi) Bondage (only hands), degradation kink, praise kink, collars, chains for collars, edging, overstimulation, spit/saliva kink, heat play, mommy kink, anal (male receiving), oral (female receiving), fingering (both receiving), scratching, biting, etc. Petnames Used: Doll, puppy, baby, mommy, slut, cumslut Request: None! A/N: Please give me your thoughts! I always get anxious writing smut. Extra: @itsjammin asked to be tagged!

“Lick it up, doll. I know you want to.” Dabi’s gruff voice was a low murmur in my ear as he bent over behind me, pushing me down with his front. Shigaraki let out a moan at the statement, and I looked up to see him watching me, wide-eyed and breathless. I looked back down at his stomach, splatters of cum painting across his torso in an almost beautiful way. “Be a good little cumslut and lick it up.” Dabi’s fingers trailed across my collar and then tugged it back gently.

I licked my lips slowly and then bent down fully and licked a stripe up his torso, trying to catch as much cum as I could. Shigaraki let out a high whine and tugged at his restraints. His hands were above his head, crossed over each other with handcuffs wrapped around his wrists and then connected to the bedrail.

“What do you say, Shiggy,” Dabi cooed, a grin playing on his lips. “What do you say when she’s been so nice to you.”

“Thank you,” Shigaraki gasped out.

Dabi pushed me forward as he leaned over me to place a kiss on Shigaraki’s lips. I responded by licking Shiggy’s stomach again, smiling at the noises he made. Dabi bucked his clothed hips against my uncovered ones, sending me crashing against Shigaraki and causing me to break away from my task. He then pulled away, but he pushed down on my back, forcing me to stay still when I went to do the same.

He disappeared for a few moments, leaving me to stare up at Shiggy as he tried to calm down. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, taking deep, long breaths. My fingers danced along his thighs.

“Are you okay up there,” I questioned? “Not too overwhelmed?”

Shiggy’s eyes opened almost immediately and locked with mine. “I’m okay, I promise. I’d say the safeword if it was too much; you know that.”

I held his thigh gently. “I know, but you tend to push yourself too far.”

Shigaraki chuckled and leaned his head back again. “That’s part of the fun, y/n. Don’t be so worrisome.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. I went to say something only to stop as I felt Dabi’s full hand rub against my ass, his piercings incredibly cold against my skin. “Gimme your hands, doll,” Dabi spoke.

I pushed my hands behind me, prepared for him to tie them up, but instead, he placed something in my hands, a chain. I pulled it in front of me and turned my head to give him a questioning look. “For me?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You’ve been good for me. Why would I chain you? Him, on the other hand.” He trailed off, his eyes falling on the parts of Shigaraki’s stomach I didn’t cover.

“Oh,” I whispered. Shigaraki’s wide eyes met mine, and he let a small smile slip on his face as I hooked the chain to the o-ring on the front of his collar. There was both Dabi and I’s name engraved in small, silver bars on either side of the ring, a reminder of who he belonged to; Mine only had Dabi’s name on it.

Dabi took the end of the chain and pulled it, testing it. The sight of Shigaraki being pulled forward gave me a few butterflies, just watching his helpless but excited expression.

“You’re not supposed to like it, puppy,” Dabi groaned, tugging on the leash again. “It’s part of your punishment.”

Shigaraki furrowed his brows. “Part?”

Dabi’s hands dropped to run over my ass again, the leash still in his hand. He took his empty hand and spanked me harshly, then rubbed over the spot soothingly. “Part,” he hummed in affirmation. His hand pushed up, following my spine, and pushed up the zip-up jacket I was wearing, exposing my back. The hoodie was Shigaraki’s, and the only thing I was wearing at the moment. Both of them had some strange obsession with fucking me with a jacket on, but I never minded it.

I felt Dabi’s hands heat up enough to mark me, but not enough to cause any real damage. He pressed his palm against the middle of my back and hummed when I let out a groan of content.

“Tell me when,” he said, and his hand grew warmer and warmer in pulses as if he was worried he would go too hot without meaning to. I laid my head on the clean part of Shigaraki’s stomach, enjoying the warmth they both provided against the cold room. “Doll, I’m marking you. Are you sure you’re good?”

I hummed an affirmation and then moaned quietly when his hands grew hot enough to really burn. “When, Dabi.”

He pulled away almost immediately, but I could still feel the heat right at the base of my spine. It would leave a heavy mark, no doubt, but I had no care in the world. Dabi let out an excited hum. Still slightly warm from a few moments ago, his hand wrapped around my throat and pulled me up a bit. He tilted my head to face him and pressed his lips against mine gently. “Remember your safe word?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

That was enough for him to move his hand back down, but this time to my front, pressing right below my belly button. It heated up much quicker than the last time, and when I went to moan, he swallowed it with an open-mouthed kiss. His tongue slid against mine and then slipped away, leaving a trail of saliva between us, and the sight could have made me orgasm right there.

Shigaraki twitched his leg, and we both turned at the feeling. He was quiet as we watched him, but his cock was hard once again, standing up slightly from his stomach.

“What- lonely,” Dabi leered. He pressed a kiss to my cheek and then my jaw before pushing me forward again. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and help our girl?” His nose skimmed against my cheek, and then he whispered in my ear, “lean forward and give him your tits while I work your cunt, will you?”

I moved instinctively, leaning over Shigaraki in only a few seconds while Dabi’s hands trailed farther and farther down until he was circling my clit with his middle finger. I could feel his watchful eyes on us as I hovered over Shigaraki. Shiggy licked his lips, unsure of what to do.

“Come on, baby,” I moaned as Dabi slipped a finger inside of me, his thumb taking the place of his middle finger. “Help mommy out, will you?”

Shiggy’s breath fanned over my chest, warm and inviting, and then he leaned in and twirled his tongue around my nipple, smiling as he felt it harden. I used one hand to hold myself up and pulled the other up, running it through his hair; it was a tangled mess, but there was enough of it that I could wrap my hand in it and control where his head moved.

Shigaraki wrapped his lips around my nipple harshly, sucked, and then pulled away with a loud pop. He reveled at the sound and went to do it again when I tugged his hair back. His eyes moved from my breasts to my face with confusion. His face flushed a bright red, and he looked away, refusing to meet my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I chuckled and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You’re eager. I’ve done the same to you. Just be gentler.”

He nodded, and I moved my chest towards him again. He was slower this time, and the way he swirled his tongue around me made me feel a bit lightheaded, and when you add in Dabi fucking me with his fingers, it was enough to make me feel very good very quickly.

Dabi tugged on Shigaraki’s chain, grinning against my neck as he leaned over me to watch him. “Bite her,” he said loud enough for Shiggy to hear. Shiggy immediately listened and bit down, but he did it harder than he was supposed to, causing me to yelp and pull away. Dabi laughed loudly in my ear and kept me still. “Come on, doll,” he said between laughs, “you can handle my burns but not a bit of biting?” He held my breast with the hand he held the leash in, heating it up right on my nipple to go along with the statement.

I groaned in response. “It’s different,” I whined, leaning into his touch.

He huffed and pushed me onto Shigaraki again, this time with Shigaraki’s head right on the crook of my neck. “Bite, puppy,” he said. Shigaraki complied and bit my shoulder harsh enough to leave teeth marks. That I liked; It made me clench around Dabi’s fingers without meaning to, seeing white temporarily. He hummed in response. “That’s what I thought.”

Shigaraki stuck his tongue out and licked the new marks and smiling when I made a noise of satisfaction.

“Thank you, baby,” I whispered to him, watching as his face softened at the praise.

Dabi’s fingers stopped abruptly, and then he laughed loudly, a sound that quickly filled the entire room. “Oh, I’ve got an idea.” He pulled out of me slowly and then brought his hand to the front of my face. “But first, open up, doll.”

I followed the order and whined as he pushed his fingers onto my tongue before he tilted his hand and pulled my jaw open, forcing me to taste myself completely. Globs of saliva and cum fell from my mouth onto Shigaraki’s chest, and I watched in fascination, enjoying the way it glimmered and how he shuddered at every new drop of liquid.

“Now, I need you to unlock him,” Dabi said, letting go and pushing me forward a bit. I did; the handcuffs not even needing keys to come undone. Then, I moved a bit to the side, so I was out of the way.

When he was freed, Shigaraki rubbed at his wrists, looking at the bright red marks the cuffs had made. Then, he looked up at Dabi in confusion. Dabi gave him a sinister grin and grabbed his hands, pulling him up quickly and then flipping him, so he was on his stomach. Shigaraki let out a noise of confusion and then a moan when Dabi roughly spanked him.

“Come here, doll,” Dabi spoke, turning to me. He pulled Shigaraki’s hands behind his back and lifted the boy, so there was enough room for me to crawl underneath them, taking the spot Shigaraki had initially had. “That’s good. Now, puppy, you make her cum with your mouth,” he tugged Shigaraki back until his face was in front of my cunt, “and I’ll get to work on your ass.” The statement was followed by the sound of him popping open a bottle. When Shigaraki didn’t move, instead blinking as he tried to process what all was happening, Dabi spanked him again. “Come on, puppy. You’ve got to work for a reward, now. Or do you want me to tie you to the chair and make you watch me demolish her?”

Shigaraki moved quickly at the statement, opening his mouth and licking a stripe up my cunt before putting full attention on my clit. Dabi tugged on his collar.

“Not too fast, though. The sooner she cums, the less prep you get. I want to see her cry.”

My eyes flew to Dabi’s in confusion. “What did I- ah- ah-“ I gripped Shigaraki’s hair with both hands, closing my eyes as he moved his tongue just right. “What did I do?”

“Absolutely nothing,” he teased.

I tried to keep eye contact, but my eyelids kept fluttering open and closed until I finally decided to just lay back and enjoy the treatment. Shigaraki was still new to many things, but he always knew how to eat me out perfectly. It was like he was inside my head with how he was able to pull away with just enough time for me to not cum or roll his tongue in a way that had me seeing stars. Dabi continued to let out quiet words of approval mixed with degradation as he finger-fucked Shigaraki, adding enough fingers to make the boy whimper underneath him; Then, just when I was on the verge of crying, Shigaraki let me have my release, moaning against me as I cried out his name, singing words of praise.

Dabi let out an unimpressed sigh. “And just when I thought I would get to see you cry,” he groaned, pulling his fingers out of Shigaraki. “Oh, well.”

Both Shigaraki and I took a few moments to compose ourselves as Dabi undid his belt and let his pants fall to the ground in a heap. He kicked them to the side and settled behind Shigaraki easily. He pushed the boy forward a bit until he was face to face with me and then pressed into him if the look on Shigaraki’s face was anything to go by.

I grabbed Shiggy’s face gently and pressed a kiss to his lips. “You’re doing so well for us, baby. You’re being such a good boy for mommy.”

Shigaraki let out a pitiful whine and gasp as Dabi pushed fully into him. “I’m your good boy, mommy, I promise.”

I gripped his leash and pulled him into another kiss when Dabi spoke again, moving Shigaraki, so his hips were near my entrance.

“Get in her,” Dabi commanded Shiggy. “Come on, puppy, fuck her.”

“With you in-“ His voice was loud and confused, but he followed the orders only to stop. He was barely inside of me, and he was already overwhelmed, his eyes rolling back. Dabi pushed him forward with a sharp thrust of his hips, forcing almost all of Shigaraki inside of me. Shigaraki let out a silent moan, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth and sending drool dripping onto my chest.

“Come on, baby,” I whispered, cupping his face gently. “Be a good boy like you said you were and fuck mommy.”

He let out a pathetic whimper in response and pulled out of me a bit only to feel himself pull Dabi in. “Too much,” he cried, “it’s too much.”

“No, it’s not,” I replied, rubbing my thumb against his cheek. Tears gathered in his eyes, but he leaned into my touch gratefully. “Come on. Fuck mommy.”

“Yeah,” Dabi chuckled behind him, “go ahead. Be a good little slut and get us off.”

Shigaraki bucked forward, his whole body trembling as he did so, and set himself an agonizingly slow pace.

“Faster,” Dabi sang teasingly. “How do you expect her to cum to that? Don’t you want to make her feel good? Don’t you want to feel good?”

I tutted gently and sent Dabi a sharp look over Shiggy’s shoulder. He had already had a lot tonight; how did he expect him to give more? My thoughts were cut off by Dabi thrusting roughly into Shigaraki, sending him flying onto my chest. My hands found themselves in his hair again, holding him to me.

“If you’re not going to go fast, I will.” Dabi clutched Shigaraki’s hips hard enough to leave marks and fucked him at a brutal pace. Every snap of his hips sent Shigaraki’s into mine, giving me the kind of stimulation I needed. “Play with her clit, puppy. You can’t get off until she does.”

Shigaraki’s breath caught in his throat, and his trembling hands lowered to my thighs, trying to keep himself raised as Dabi didn’t pause in the slightest. His eyes were foggy and glazed over as he stared down at me.

“You’re doing so well, baby. Being so good.” I reached and grabbed his hand in mine, gently leading him to where I needed him most. “Just help mommy out a little more and we’ll be done soon.”

His fingers circled my clit only to get pulled away as Dabi sent a particularly harsh thrust. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered, shaking his head as tears gathered in his eyes, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I won’t break the rules again. I won’t cum early. I’ll be a good little boy.”

I shook my head as Dabi laughed. “I know, baby, I know. Give mommy another kiss, will you?”

He nodded and bent down, pressing his slobbery lips to mine in a sloppy kiss. He disconnected for a few moments, his warm breath fanning over my face, and then surged forward again to reconnect our lips. “I’ll be good. I’ll be good.” He repeated the phrase over and over again between kisses, his hand making it back to my clit. Tears streamed down his face continuously as he went, but he put enough attention to get me moaning, sparks of pleasure shooting up me in pulses.

Dabi leaned forward, pushing Shigaraki closer as he went, and leaned over him to come face to face with me, his hips not even pausing as he did so. “What,” he leered, “no love for me?”

I giggled quietly and reached a hand up to cup his scarred face, pulling up so I could place my lips on his. He kissed me feverishly, trying to keep me close as he fucked Shigaraki and I. Shigaraki groaned lowly into my shoulder and bit down before running his tongue across the mark, continuing the action over and over.

After only a few more moments, I felt the tension in my stomach build and build until I cried out loudly and came around Shigaraki, my hands splaying across his back, digging my nails into his skin and dragging down. He let out an unknown sound at the action and jerked his hips against Dabi’s, fucking into me harder than he had before with renewed vigor.

“Can I- please, please, please, please,” he sobbed, more fluid falling out of his mouth and slurring his speech. “Please, let me, please.”

“Let you what, puppy,” Dabi spoke. “Use your words.”

“Please, let me cum- let me- let me cum-“

Dabi met eyes with me and sent me a look, asking for my response. I nodded, wincing from the feeling of being fucked too soon after cumming. “Well, since you have done what was asked. Go ahead,” he said, “but don’t pull out.”

I let out a gasping breath and arched my back as Shigaraki thrust ruthlessly once, twice, and then came with a loud scream falling from his lips. A mix of tears and spit fell on my chest at his release, and then, he fell forward, collapsing onto me with no energy left to give.

Dabi groaned quietly and then came, his hips slowing to a stop after a bit and a lazy grin settling on his face. Shigaraki’s body trembled heavily on top of me, his breaths more pants than anything. I traced patterns along his back soothingly and pressed kisses to the side of his head.

“You did so well for us, Tomu,” I told him with a smile. “So good.”

Shigaraki sniffled and nodded. “Thank you, mommy.”

#tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #dabi x reader #dabi smut #shigaraki smut #tomura smut #tomura shigaraki smut #dabi x reader x shigaraki #shigaraki x reader x dabi #shigadabi x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia smut #bnha smut #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia smut #bnha #lov #lov smut

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spidersfanfics · 3 years ago

Text

The Talk

JonMartin | Coming Out | Canon Asexual Character

Jon comes out properly as asexual to Martin, who takes the news much better than he'd dreaded. Inspired in part by a tiktok I saw, complaining about the way some parts of the fandom handle Jon's asexuality, and in part by my own self-indulgent fantasies as an asexual person.

A knock on the door drew Martin's attention away from his writing and he looked up to see Jon shuffle awkwardly into the room. "Hello Martin, you're not busy are you?"

Martin smiled and shuffled some half-finished poetry out of view. "Nope, what's up?"

"Well, there's something I think we need to talk about," Jon said stiffly. He didn't quite meet Martin's eyes as he wrung his hands nervously and Martin shifted to fully face his boyfriend. Putting on an open expression that managed to coax Jon into continuing his train of thought. "It's about us, and I think it's important that we discuss it now."

"Is something wrong?"

"Oh no," Jon hurried to clarify, "Don't worry it's nothing bad. At least, I hope you won't think it's bad. I just figured it was better for this to come up now, rather than later."

Martin wracked his brain, trying to guess at what Jon could be wanting to talk about but came up empty. He gestured to an empty chair in the room and gave Jon a reassuring smile. "Alright then, have a seat and let's hear it. I've never heard you so chatty about feelings before."

Jon sat with painfully awkward motions as he gave a strained chuckle. "Yeah, I'm not quite used to the concept yet. Being open about my emotions that is, not the act of having emotions. So forgive me if I'm a bit anxious."

"Well, what did you want to talk about?"

"So I've been thinking," Jon began slowly, gathering his thoughts as he spoke, "Because before, there was never really a good time to bring this up and it really didn't seem relevant anyway. But now that we're not... umm."

He tugged at the sleeve above his scarred hand and Martin nodded, "Trying desperately not to die?"

Jon gave an amused hum, "Yes, that. Now that we're not constantly on the brink of death. I figured you might start to have questions about it. So I wanted to tell you that I'm actually, asexual."

Martin's eyes widened ever slightly as his only show of surprise. Otherwise maintaining a perfectly neutral expression. "Oh."

"That is, I've never had any interest in sex," Jon explained, barreling right past Martin's reaction, or rather lack thereof. "But considering most people in relationships do start to consider that after a certain point I thought that I should let you know. Admittedly I don't know what milestone 'surviving an apocalypse together' counts as in terms of intimacy but still. It might have been something you were wondering about. Now that we actually have a house. With a bed. And stuff."

"And stuff," Martin deadpanned. "Wow, I've truly never seen you so out of your element." He wrinkled his nose slightly with a half-amused expression. "I'm also somehow not surprised that you're so clinical, even when talking about sex."

Jon shrugged tensely, "I can't help it I guess."

Martin let out a puff of air, "You know honestly, it's crossed my mind once or twice but ultimately it's not that important to me anyway. I know that you love me in other ways and I can do the same for you." He gave Jon a smile, hoping to defuse some of the tension, "Honestly I'm just glad it was asexuality and not monster trauma."

Jon actually laughed at that, caught off guard as he was by the statement. "Monster trauma?" He questioned.

"Yeah," Martin explained, "You know when you were having that whole 'woe is me, am I beyond redemption?' crisis. I was worried it had made you maybe, I dunno, hate your body or something? And that was why you never seemed to be very interested in physical intimacy." He blushed slightly and shot Jon a look that dared him to make fun, "I was worried something had broken in you. Or maybe that I had done something wrong. So I'm glad to hear that you're fine and that this is normal for you."

He hadn't needed to worry about Jon's teasing however. Because Jon was staring back at him with a look of complete disbelief. "Normal," he said, so softly that Martin nearly missed it. Jon shook his head, snapping himself out of his shock. "So, you're okay with this then?" he asked. "You're fine with us not having sex? Ever?"

The love on Martin's face was impossible to misread as his eyes filled with adoration. "Jon," he said softly, "Of course I'm okay with this. I told you, I love you enough to deal with it." He chuckled, "What, did you think that after everything I was going to break up with you over this?"

Jon looked away and didn't respond.

"Wait, seriously?"

"Maybe."

Martin's expression grew serious as he quietly asked, "Have people broken up with you because of this before?"

Jon gritted his teeth, "I did have relationships before the archives, you know." There was a long pause before he spoke again, "But yes. It has been known to happen."

"Fuck that."

Jon's head snapped up in alarm, "Martin! Language!"

Martin huffed, "Sorry, but I needed that to actually register with you. I promise you that I do not care about this in the slightest. I don't find it to be a problem and I assure you that you being asexual is something I can live with. Because you are enough." He got up out of his chair and crossed the room to close the distance between himself and Jon. "Do you hear me?" he asked, cupping Jon's face in his hands, "I love you. And I know that you love me. I don't need sex to prove that."

Jon reached up in turn to wrap his hands around Martin's wrists. "You mean that?"

"Of course I do," Martin said, leaning down to touch foreheads with Jon. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," Jon said, squeezing his eyes shut for just a moment to revel in the moment. "Thank you."

Martin responded with a gentle kiss which Jon gladly accepted. "Was that everything you wanted to talk about?" Martin asked when they broke apart.

"Yes."

"If you're not busy," Martin mused, "I could make us some tea and then we could go cuddle on the couch and watch cheesy movies for a while. I'll even let you pick the movie."

Jon laughed and stood, letting his and Martin's hands drop until they were clasped between the two of them. "Sure Martin, and you can pick the movie. Anything but horror movies and you've got a deal."

Martin grinned and planted another quick kiss on Jon's cheek, "Deal."

#Jonathan Sims #The Magnus Archives #TMA #MagPod #Martin Blackwood #JonMartin #JMart #Fluff #Coming Out #Asexual #Canon Asexual Character #Implied Aphobia #Post Canon #Not Canon Compliant

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spookysweet-heart · 3 years ago

Text

Don’t Board It Up

Commission: Yes!

Pairings: Natemare x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Youtuber Egos

Warnings: None

A/N: Thank you to @forbiddenstars for commissioning me to write this! I had a lot of fun writing this for you! Hope you all enjoy it! Collage was made by me! Edited by @semiproeagle!

“C’mon, it’s my turn!”

“No way, it’s my turn! You’ve been hogging the controller for an hour already! Natemare said we get an hour each!” Natpai pouts at Bones, who just ignores him for a moment, continuing to play the game.

“I know, but I haven't died yet! That’s not fair!” Bones takes his arm back from Natpai who was gripping onto his sleeve.

“Quit being an asshole and let me play something for once!”

Phantom walks into the living room, ignoring the other two as he makes his way to the couch. Paying attention to his phone, he doesn’t notice Natpai sitting next to him right away.

“Ooh, texting your girlfriend again?”

“Dude, seriously, how many times have I told you not to do that!” Lightly shoving Natpai away from his side, Phantom goes back to texting.

Natpai rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. “Yeah, well I wouldn’t have to if Bones would just LET ME PLAY!!”

“Hey, no yelling, that shit's annoying.” Looking over at Bones, Phantom sighs. “Can you let him play? You’ve been at it for a while now.”

“No way-” Bones is interrupted when the doorbell rings.

“I got it!” Natemare walks out of the kitchen, cleaning his hands on his apron.

“Mare! Bones won't let me use the Playstation!”

“Bones, what did I tell you! You guys get an hour each, I don't care if you haven't died yet, find a damn save and give the controller to Natpai!” Mare opens the door and looks over at Phantom. “You can help, you know?”

“I could, but they don’t listen to me. Besides, I have to study, exams are coming up.”

“Yeah, and I don’t see you with a textbook in your hands, now do I?”

Phantom rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to his phone.

“Did I come at a bad time?” You smile at Mare while holding onto an empty tupperware in your hands.

“No, not at all. Oh here, let me take that back.” Reaching out to take the tupperware, he motions for you to come inside. “I just started dinner if you wanna stay for a while?”

“Oh um, some other time would be perfect, but I actually have plans with my parents for dinner.”

“I thought your parents weren’t living around here anymore? Did they come to visit?”

“Yeah, they got some time off of work to come down here today. They wanna catch up over dinner. You know how it is. My dad's probably gonna grill me on my grades, though. Kinda slipped up in math, but I mean it’s my last general course then I’m off to do my major.”

Mare puts the tupperware on the table that's by the door. “Yeah, right. Well, I hope your night is fun. I know mine will be with these guys.”

“Dude, you did not just turn off the PlayStation!” Both of them hear Natpai yell from the living room, making Mare visibly annoyed.

“I can tell. Thanks for lunch the other day, by the way. It was really good!” You smile up at him, feeling a little nervous.

“I’m glad it came out good. You and Bones both like the same thing, and since I had a lot of leftovers, I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“I did! Thanks again! Hey, maybe we can hang out tomorrow? I don’t have class all day.”

“That should be fine. I get off work around five, we can get something to eat near your place.”

“Yeah! That works for me! See ya tomorrow!” You give him a quick hug before waving goodbye.

Mare smiles, waving back as he watches you walk down the street. Closing the door, he takes the tupperware with him to the kitchen.

Bones walks in behind Mare, grabbing a cookie from the plate on the counter. Before he can take a bite though, Natemare takes the cookie back. “Hey! I was gonna eat that!”

“And now you’re not. Dinner is almost done, go set the table.” Mare checks the food in the oven and calls over his shoulder to Bones. “Oh yeah. You’re grounded tomorrow night.”

Stopping right as he enters the dining room, Bones turns back to Mare. “Seriously, again?”

Mare stands back up, grabbing the stack of plates that are on the counter. “Yes, again. Maybe if you listened for once and did what I told you instead of being a brat, then maybe you wouldn’t get in trouble.”

Bones rolls his eyes, taking the plates. “Whatever, since when did you get so parental?”

“Since you started being an ass for no reason. You’re gonna apologize to Natpai later, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I am.”

“Good!” Mare ruffles Bones’ hair, turning back around to finish dinner.

After dinner, Phantom helps Mare clean up while the other two get ready for bed. He notices Mare being more quiet than usual. Picking up a napkin, Phantom balls it up in his hand and tosses it at Mare, catching him off guard when it hits him in the face.

“What the hell, Phantom?” Picking up the napkin, Mare places it with the rest of the trash.

Phantom shrugs as he puts another plate in his pile. “You’ve spaced out lately, especially after (Y/n) came by earlier. What’s up with you two?”

“Nothing's up. I’ve just had a lot on my mind with everything going on.” Making his way to the kitchen, Mare throws out the trash he collected from dinner. Passing Phantom on his way to finish clearing the table, Mare stops when he sees him giving him a look. “Seriously, it’s nothing.”

“I don’t think it’s nothing. I think you like her and don’t know how to confess.” Phantom takes the dishes to the sink to start washing them. “You can just tell her, I don’t think it’ll turn out bad.”

Bringing Phantom the last of the dishes, Mare carefully puts them in the sink. “Look, so what if I do? I can’t just confess to my best friend like that. (Y/n) and I have been friends since middle school. We’re practically like siblings.”

Phantom hands Mare a few dishes to dry and put away before he responds. “Is that how you really feel?”

“No, but it’s probably how she feels.” Mare dries each dish carefully, putting them away.

“Why not at least try? Instead of going to a restaurant why not just go to a park before the sunsets? You guys can just bring the food there, and it wouldn’t be noisy. You’d be able to talk and bring it up. It’ll be fine.” Handing him the last of the dishes, Phantom turns off the water and washes away any soap that was leftover in the sink. He glances at Mare who stares down at the cup he’s drying. “You have every right to be nervous, but c’mon, you've got this. When has being nervous stopped you from doing anything?”

Mare sighs, putting the cup away. “You’re right, I just don’t want to risk losing another friend.”

“Last time wasn’t your fault. Fallouts happen between friends, it's normal.”

Mare smiles at Phantom, tossing the rag over his shoulder. “Go to bed, it’s getting late.”

“You better take my advice.” Phantom smiles back at Mare before heading up to his room.

The next day after work, Natemare rushes home from work almost tripping over his own feet as he stumbles inside.

Bones looks up from his laptop where he’s sitting on the couch. “You okay?”

“Fine, where’s Phantom?” Regaining his balance, Mare walks into the living room looking around.

“He’s at Lexi’s, he said they were gonna study for exams.”

Mare sighs. Feeling exhausted, he runs a hand through his hair, calming himself down. “Right. I forgot he asked me if he could go over this morning.” Reaching into his wallet, Mare hands Bones a couple of bills. “Order pizza for you and Natpai for dinner tonight. I won’t be home late, but still.”

Taking the money, Bones shoves it in his jacket pocket, nodding at Mare. Relaxing back into the couch, he goes back to finish up his homework for the day while Mare makes his way upstairs to change.

After putting on his shoes, Mare picks up his phone and texts you that he’ll be there in a couple of minutes. Grabbing his jacket, he passes Natpai’s room on his way downstairs. “No fighting while I’m gone, you two!” Taking his keys from one of the hooks, Mare double checks that he has everything he needs before heading out the door. “I’ll be back later!”

“'Kay! Have fun!” Bones shouts at Mare as he walks out the front door. “Natpai! What kind of pizza do you want?”

“Anything but no pineapple or mushrooms!”

“Got it!” Bones takes out his phone to start the order when he gets a text from Mare.

“Don’t be a dick and order what Natpai doesn’t like. You did last time and he didn’t eat all night.”

Bones giggles to himself before he orders the food and makes sure he doesn’t do what he did last time since he doesn’t want Mare to scold him again.

Turning up the radio in his car, Mare drives off towards your place. His grip on the steering wheel tightens the closer he gets to your apartment. “There’s nothing to be nervous about, it’s just dinner with a friend.” Parking in front of your building, Mare turns off the car and sinks in his seat. “Yeah, a friend you have feelings for.”

Sighing, he sits upright again, taking out his phone to let you know he’s there.

Leaning his head against the window, he lets his mind drift off for a moment. Thoughts start to race as he starts to forget his surroundings. Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, thoughts of everything that could go wrong keep popping up, making him feel more anxious by the second.

Hearing tapping on the passenger window, Mare jumps, getting startled till he sees you waving and smiling at him when you get his attention. Unlocking the door, he smiles back when you climb into the passenger side. “Hey! Ready to go?”

Closing the car door, you put on your seatbelt, still smiling at him. “Yup! I’m honestly starving, I wasn’t able to eat a full lunch since I forgot I had a meeting with my professor today.”

Starting the car, Mare carefully pulls out of the parking spot. “Everything okay?”

“Oh yeah, everything is fine! Just going through the lessons again since finals are coming up and I just didn’t understand a few things.”

Mare nods in response, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. “You can listen to whatever you want. Also, I was thinking we could just pick up the food and take it to the park nearby. What do you think?”

“Sounds good to me! I’m glad it’s still kind of warm out around this time.” Scrolling through your phone, you decide to put your playlist on shuffle for the rest of the drive.

After picking up the food, you two arrive at the nearby park. Mare takes the bags of food with him when he gets out of the car. Walking over to your side, he waits for you to get out.

Double-checking you have everything in your bag, you step out of the car, looking around and closing the door behind you. Mare puts the alarm on his car and hands you the bag with your food. “Hilltop, or by the water?”

“Hilltop, I think it’d be nice to see the sunset today.” You both smile at each other as you make your way up the hill.

Feeling the breeze pass by makes Mare feel a bit calmer about the situation. He was starting to feel like things would be okay, even if it doesn’t go the way he hopes it will.

Reaching the top of the hill, you set the food down on one of the picnic tables. Taking a seat, you two immediately dig into your dinner. If Mare was honest, he’d also confess that he was starving from not eating all day since he was feeling anxious up until this moment.

Finishing up your meals, Mare asks how it went when you met up with your parents the night before. You tell him everything, making him laugh over a joke your dad told your mom. Things were just like how they always are between you two, full of laughs and great stories to tell.

Mare offers to throw away the trash while you go sit on the grass facing the sunset. He smiles softly as he makes himself comfortable sitting next to you.

Feeling the sun hitting his face as he closes his eyes, Mare takes a deep breath in. The nervous feeling slowly starts to build up again, but he pushes it aside as he looks over at you. “Hey, (Y/n)?”

Humming in response, you smile when you turn to look at him. “Yeah? What’s up?”

Mare glances down at the grass, realizing he’s been picking at it. Quickly brushing off the few blades of grass from his palm, he looks back up at you. “Uh, well, I wanna tell you something, and you don’t really have to reply to it or anything, but I’ve just been thinking about us. How we’ve been friends for most of our lives.” Mare’s cheeks start to turn a light pink and he’s too busy rambling to see yours are too.

“I treasure our friendship. You know I love hanging out with you and everything, but I can’t stop thinking about being something more.” Nervously, Mare bites the inside of his cheek as he lets out everything he wants to say. “You have no idea how much I’d love to take you out on dates, to cuddle up with you on cold nights, to be the person you’re always happy and feel safe to be around. (Y/n), I love you. So much.”

Gently, you raise your hand to his face and wipe away a few tears falling down his cheeks. “You’re always so sweet, Mare. I always liked that about you. Well, there’s a lot of other things I like about you too.” Giggling, you lean in and kiss his cheek, seeing him start to smile again. “To be honest, I’ve also been feeling the same way, but was afraid of ruining the friendship we have. I was fine with the idea of us just staying friends because that was enough for me.”

Mare holds one of your hands in his while rubbing his eyes with his free hand. Laughing to himself, he grins, gently squeezing your hand. “So, does that mean you’ll say yes to a date this weekend?”

“Of course! I‘d love that!”

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