#much to be said but ill only ramble a tiny bit

[heroesspirit]

POV your little brother figure wants a bug so you use your splitting ability to grab it for him.

Second page was made by @ryssbelle!

[seungfl0wer]

*I’ll do anything*

Part Title: Devils Helping Hand

Genre: Angst/Smut/Fluff?

Paring: Minho x Reader (Fem)

Warnings: Mafia!Au, Mentions of death, Sick sibling, Mentions of being shot, also mentions of being Minhos slave, slight blood mention

This will be a small series. For my 🔪 anon, they have a beautiful brain and now I’m obsessed with the thought of Mafia boss Minho 😪 (Their request/thoughts Here and Here) also side note this is the first series of writings I’ve done in a long while so please bare with me and my ramblings.

Series Master List

-🩵

You prepared for this for weeks, wanting it to go right because it meant everything if you could pull it off. Staring at the building knowing there was people in there willing to shoot you on sight. But none of that mattered if you could pull it off. Your brother has been getting worse and worse. He’s been in the hospital for the past month battling his illness but nothing seems to be helping. There’s a new treatment they want to try however it’s expensive. The insurance can only cover so much of it and the rest is up to you.

You’ve been working your ass off 2 jobs, barely eating to save money and your sleep schedule? People slept? You sighed loudly watching as people got into their car to leave. You’ve been scoping out the schedules of them seeing when they leave how long they stay how many go in and out. It was gonna work. It had to work. You find the window that’s been open for the past 3 days slinking your body through it. Bingo. The room was close to the one you needed. You peaked out the door quickly checking the surroundings before bolting to the room beside.

The door was locked but you learned how to pick a lock just for this. You worked your janky skills as you heard voices down the hall. Heart races as you quickly tried the lock and then it clicked. You were in! You hurriedly got into the room so know one could see. One thing that was very odd to you was there was no cameras. You even had a mask you were gonna wear but realizing there wasn’t anything you didn’t put it on.

You searched the room opening ever drawer and checking ever nook you could. You were getting frustrated not being able to find the safe you knew was there. Until you remembered in those movies people would keep things behind paintings. Eh it was worth a shot to check. Moving the few art pieces you rolled your eyes as you actually found the safe behind a painting of the boss. He was handsome, but word had it he was a very cold hearted man. I mean he had to be doing this job.

You searched anywhere to find a code he might have wrote down anywhere. You sighed why couldn’t it have been one of those with the tiny keys. As you looked you heard the door opening “fuck” you say in a whisper “this is it huh” you said to yourself. You weren’t going to go out with a fight though. You stood behind the door waiting for him to come in as he shut the door he looked over to his desk. Noticing things had been moved he turned to grab the door again only to be met with your eyes.

He was so calm and collected while your heart was about to beat out of your chest. Your palms started to sweat and you could feel a lump get stuck in your throat as you tried to speak. He tilted his head a bit looking you over “who hired you?” He asked staring at you eyes staying locked “I’ll pay you double what they’re paying you” he said still studying you. He seemed almost confused you looked like such a sweet girl. Your innocent eyes shaking as you stared at him.

“No one sent me” you admitted, trying to make eye contact with him. He scoffed a bit “you broke in here with out no one find you and you expect me to believe you” he laughed “what the hell did you come here for then? Do you have a death wish?” He said making his way to his desk. This wasn’t going as you expected but you weren’t leaving here empty handed. You stared at him as he looked at the painting that hid the safe. “Ah so you came for money is that it?” He questioned. You nod “My brother is sick” you said softly “i don’t give hand outs sorry” he laughs a bit before you cut him off “then let me work for you, I can do anything.”

He paused looking at you “I can get a whore anytime” he was about to say before you continued “I can clean really well, I’m also a pretty good cook” he raised an eyebrow he was honestly more confused than anything. “Pay me the money for my brother and in return I’ll be your servant” you said choking back tears. You couldn’t tell if it was from being upset about your brother or the fact this man could literally just kill you here.

He walked to his desk sitting down staring at you with big boba eyes “and if I refuse?” He smirked “what will little you do to me hmm?” He has a point what exactly could you do if he said no. The only thing you could really muster out was a “please” your hands trembled now, shaking so bad it felt like you were vibrating. Your legs felt like jello so wobbly and weak. You looked over your face making his way to you he lifted your head to make you look at him. He stared at you thinking hard “You will do anything I ask you. No protesting. Everything I say to you is met with a yes sir. If you cannot follow these orders say goodbye to your brother.”

That last part hurt a bit, but you nodded excepting the offer “good girl” he said in response dropping your face “how much exactly do you need?” He says like the money is an after thought like he was so rich it wouldn’t matter. “His first treatment would be 80K but his insurance is covering at least 10K so 70K.” You croaked out. It was so much money and that was only for the first treatment and it may not even work. You had 5K saved already from working yourself to death but it would take you forever to get it all.

He nodded “pocket change honestly” he said with a cold expression “I’ll pay it in full for you to come work for me for at least 6months” he said staring at you. You were honestly shocked 6months? You thought he’d just make you a slave forever “however you will move into my home for the time being so I can keep you close. Don’t want you running off after I pay” he laughed a bit “like you’d be able to hide from me” he said still laughing. “And if he needs another treatment we can work something out.” He said cracking his neck slightly.

You kinda just nod your head was empty at this point. Your body had almost gone numb at the thought of what you had offered. If you got yourself killed who would be there to help your brother? So you made a deal with yourself there and then, you were gonna put a smile on and work as hard as possible. No matter what the man would through at you. You were gonna live and live to see your brother better.

“So is it a deal darling?” He said his voice so sweet sounding but his face turned into a smug smile. “It’s a deal.” You said locking eyes with the man “Good choice, now please sit while I grab my stuff. We will swing by your house before we head to your new home.” You nod “oh by the way darling I never caught your name.” He said nonchalantly rummaging through his desk “I’m y/n.” You said as you watched the man he nodded slightly “Y/n- hmm. A pretty name for a pretty lady” he smiled.

Was he hitting on you? Your eyes widen a small bit thinking to yourself. The smile on his face widened a bit at your expression “gonna put you to work when we get there cause I’m starving” he said finding the paper he needed “oh by the way kitten, if you are going to my little slave just know you will not leave as innocent as you came here” he said smirking getting up putting his bag over his shoulder. That’s it. You had literally just sold yourself, not just for work but your body.

Shit. You said to yourself can’t he get any hooker or whatever he wants. He wouldn’t want you right? RIGHT!?

-🩵

He opened the door for you to get in the car he got in after sitting beside you. He told the older man driving your address and you headed to your house. Your mind buzzing thinking of what you are getting into. You broke the silence with a low “shit.” Minho turned his head in question wondering what had made you said that. But before he could ask the man had pulled into your place. It was a small janky apartment where he knew well had a lot of problems. Just last week someone from his group had shot someone dead in the street.

His eyes looked over at you how could you be living here? Someone so beautiful in such a crime ridden place, you didn’t have anyone here to protect you he thought to himself. Or did you? He never thought to ask honestly. And if you would have someone what then? He’d make sure they’d be outta the picture.

Minho broke out of his thoughts as you tapped his shoulder “uhm we’re here” you said softly looking at him with almost puppy dog eyes. You both walked in silence up to your door, your apartment was pretty empty you hadn’t bought much of anything after moving here. It was the closets and cheapest place you could get to your work and your brother. The place itself was very neat and clean almost looked like you just moved in.

Closing the door behind you, you turned to Minho “I have a question” you said avoiding eye contact. Before he could respond he heard a faint meow coming from the only chair you had in the living room. He smiled his expression softened as he knew what you were gonna ask. “I’ve always loved cats” he said walking towards the crusty looking cat. The cat rolled over as he approached exposing her little patchy belly. Her fur was a burnt orange color with a black and white batches over. She was a little chunky thing, with only one eye. Her meow was cute almost like a kittens meow how high pitched it was.

“Will she be joining you?” He asked as he petted her soft fur. His body language was so different now, he seemed approachable and kind. “Is that ok with you?” You said with hopeful eyes. He nods “of course” he pauses for second “when we get home you will address me as sir as I said before. You haven’t said it once but I will let it slide for now.” He said standing up staring at you “get what you need quickly.”

You head to your room grabbing clothes and such. As you did the man snooped through your house. Checking your fridge. Empty. Empty?? His jaw almost drops at the sight. It was so bare not even condiments. There was a single bottle of water, a small carton of milk and jar of jelly. What the fuck do you even eat? He questioned. How are you even alive if this is what your fridge looked like. He looked in the cupboard seeing a few canned foods but he noticed you had a whole shelf of cat food, treats and wet food. Of course. Damn you’re so sweet aren’t you. Buying food for your cat over yourself. God how’s he gonna be this tough guy over you when you’re this loving? He thought.

You came back out with a suitcase packing the cats stuff and putting her in her carrier. You looked at him as he stood by the door scared for what is to come but relieved your brother will be taken care of. You two walked back the car heading to your new “home” back again in silence.

-🩵

You pulled up to a beautiful house, it was nestled in the woods you could see a beautiful garden at the side with a small pool on the other side of the house. The house itself was not overly big. Bigger than one man needed but no mansion like you thought he’d have. Stepping out of the car Minho grabbed the carrier as you took your suit case out. You headed inside where he gave you a small tour, showing you where you’d be staying which was right across from his room.

“Alright now that you know the place I’m starving.” He said stretching his arms above his head “let’s see how your cooking skills are” you nod as you both walked towards the kitchen. You looked through the fridge that was stalked to the brim of fresh vegetables, fresh fruit and meat. Anything and everything you could really want. You quickly get to work on making him some fish over rice and some fresh steamed veggies.

As you cooked he watched over you, like a Sargent almost. He found it so attractive you could cook because he himself loved to cook. That’s a reason he’s never hired a chef but now he had you. Watching you make him food, your pretty lips in a pout almost as you focused on what you were doing. His body almost moved on its own, he pressed himself against your hands coming up to grab yours as you cook. “You should do it like this” he said helping you cook the fish.

He was so close to you, you could feel his hot breath on the back of your neck. Body pressed as close to yours as he could. His other hand resting firmly on your hip as his other wrapped around your hand that was holding the pan. You could feel him moving his hips slightly against you. Soft enough he thought you wouldn’t feel, but you did. God did you feel it. “Y/n” he said softly “you’re doing so well” his voice barely audible. The very intimate moment was interrupted by his phone ringing. His sighed loudly as he pealed himself away from your body grumply answering the phone.

“What” he hissed at whoever pulled him away from you. “Alright I’ll be right there” he said another loud sigh escaping his plush lips. “Of course I gotta go” he rolled his eyes. You titled your head a bit as you heard a car horn honking. He quickly went to the door “Make yourself at home I won’t be gone longer than 2 hours.” He said rushing out the door. You breathed out almost sad he had to leave. You wondered how much time he actually had to himself. He seems like he works himself a lot especially at the state of his house. You finished making his dinner placing it in the microwave for him to heat back up.

You kept yourself occupied cleaning up the kitchen, you cleaned up half the house before you sat down falling asleep on the couch. Minho finally came home later than he was supposed to. It was 3am, he looked exhausted slight blood painted his shirt. As he walked through the door he was almost shocked at how clean you had gotten things already. He saw you sleeping on the couch he was going to carry you to bed but remembered his shirt. He took a quick shower before coming back out. While he was in the shower you had heard him come home. You heated his food up for him setting it out on the table with a glass of whine you had found.

You slumped back into the couch waiting for him to come out only to quickly fall back asleep. The couch was so comfortable. You had been sleeping on a small bed on the floor. Anything was honestly better than it, it was so hard and lumpy.

Minho came out of the shower the smell of the food had filled the air his hungry stomach lead him straight to the kitchen. His heart cried as he saw you had warmed his food up and sat it out for him. Why the fuck are you being so kind to him? He thought to himself. He quickly devoured the delicious food you had prepared and oh boy was it delicious. He made his way to the couch seeing you had fallen back asleep he picked you up taking you to your room. You laid you down putting the covers over you and quickly kissing your forehead.

This was it. You were gonna ruin him. You already had his heart melting. Do flips at the sight of you. The thoughtfulness you had already shown and being so obedient cleaning when he didn’t expect you to already. He stared at you softly for a moment “one of us is gonna destroy the other, I can feel it. And honestly I hope it’s me who’s destroyed at the end” he said before placing another kiss to your forehead leaving to his room. He laid there staring at the ceiling just thinking of you before drifting off to sleep.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[factual-fantasy]

TUNA I'VE FAILED YOU OH YOU DELICIOUS PIECE OF MY HEART HOW'VE YOU BEEN MY DEAREST PUREST LITTLE GUY??!??

Since the last post you made about him I've been wanting to ScReAM my love for him but I never had the time and the energy at the same time! D: until now >:]

BECAUSE WOULD YOU LOOK AT THIS?!

THE SMILE! THE FONDNESS! THE "I KNOW IM LOVED" THAT THIS DRAWING SCREAMS IS MAKING ME SO INSANE I LOVE SO MUCH HERE

Now, continuing to be an acceptable member of the Tuna Lover society.

TUNA YOU'RE THE ABSOLUTE BEST THING EVER.

Hold yourself because I have 0 self control when it comes to ramble about my specialist little guy and I'm afraid I wrote quite a lot.

Tuna looks like he is so tired. Look at him! His whole body language is screaming "I'm so tired but i dont really think sleep cluld help me". What did this rascal do that he's so tired? I wonder, but for some reason he looks more like being emotionally tired than anything. Poor bean! Did he had a rough week? A bad day? Is he feeling down? Maybe he's just tired for no specific reason, it happens sometimes. I wish I could cup him in my hands and pat his head softly as I rock him to sleep because he's so my baby :'[ <3

Ellie oh you heart of gold woman how lucky is the crew you're a part of it! Like seriously. She looked at this sad teen and said: not under my watch young boy. And went to cook his fauvorite rolls??!? She's so grannie coded I need her in my daily life you have no clue (oh no I got nostalgyc-). She's trying to hype him up and she's not just silently sliding the rolls under his hands. She's actually talking with him and something about physical contact. WAIT. IS THAT IT? IS TUNA SO VERY TOUCH STARVED THAT THIS IS HIS REACTION? OOOUGH MY HEART CANT HANDLE IT. I'll follow this train of thought later. (🚂)

Like. She's so gentle, so careful, so... She's really making sure she does all she can to lift up the spirits of that young man!

Because the way he's looking at her... the fondness.. the care and gratefulness????? Oh dear momma fish I'm dying. He's looking at her so sweetly! So gratefull! He's screaming "thanks for being a part of my life" without his mouth. He's screaming "I am so gratefull you love me" with his only one eye and I'm so down for it. I need more of them. They warm my fish heart so much... She's the grannie he never asked for bur always needed! Y'know? He's capable of looking at someone like that after all he's gone through and if that doesn't make me want to cry I don't know what does. Because that's just... OUGH I CANT WITH THEM HE HAS SUCH A TRAGYC BACKSTORY AND FEELS LIKE NO ONE LIKES HIM AND THEN THIS OLD LADY IS LIKE: YEAH, ILL BAKE HIM SONETHING SO HE CHEERS UP??!??! I NEED THEM HUGGING I NEED THEM BONDING I NEED THEM BEING A MEANACE TOGERHER BECAUSE OHMYGOD WHAT I WOULDNT GIVE TO SEE THIS TWO BEING LIKE THIS EVERYDAY.

A tiny part of me kinda wants to see one of them hurted really bad and the other protecting, but the other part of me is terrified of the mental implications it would have. Especially if it's ellie the one hurted. Oh no, no, let's end that thought there for my own sake 🫠

BECAUSE ELLIE IS JUST... SHE JUST BAKES HIM HIS FAUVORITR, I REPEAT, FAVOURITE THINGS WITHOUT HIM ASKING FOR IT.

Ok, returning with that train of thought (🚂)... I probably have alredy rambled about this before, but... When was the last time someone hold this guy gently? I mean, not even hold, but just... touch him without meaning harm? Or more precisely, when was the last time someone touched him with care? With fondness? With the intention to lift his spirit? To make him smile, at least a little tiny eety beety winesy bit?

She puts hers hand on his shoulder and he jumps, freezing with his mouth full of delicious food. It's her. Of course it's her, they were chatting alone in the kitchen, although it felt more a monologue as Ellie cooked than an actual conversation. He was too in his mind to really listen. The sudden contact was what made him blink with his only eye, staring at the caring old eyes of the lady at his right. It was nice. Warm and rough hands squeezed his arm softly, fully aware that she had startled him. She looked at him with a fond smile and placed the fresh rolls in front of him. "There, you better enjoy them boy!" She may or may not say. Thing is, his eye goes to the hot, delicious food, and then he realizes. The hand is still there. Gentle. Almost can't feel it. It's. Why? It's strange. It should hurt. But it didn't. Of course it made sense, but why? Of course it didn't! It was Ellie! And then the realization hits. All in a matter of seconds. Ellie would never lay a harming hand on him. And he felt... He felt.

"You can't eat literally with your eyes, you do know that, do you?" He forgot he was eating. He smiled. And seeing that smile made her smile too. After all, how couldn't she? That wasn't something she saw everyday! Much less in such a sincere way! He was just... smiling at her. Oh she felt so happy! "I'm glad you like those! If you want more just tell me!" Oh wasn't he in the verge of tears? Happy tears! Him! Oh. The realization hitted like a truck. (Or like a ship? What's the equivalent? Idk, like a punch of Louis if you please.) He was cared for. He was loved. There were hands in this world that weren't meant to harm him. He just smiled, fondness burning in his chest like a wildfire because how this woman can change a man via kindness/food.

What is so crazy is that maybe he's just staring lovingly at the lady that cares for him. Because he feels like he's a rock on the boots of the crew most of the time but he's good at what he does so they bare with him. Maybe he feels they don't want him around but... but this lady does. And isn't he gratefull for it? Isn't he so happy she's around? She touches his only arm in such a gentle way? The other won't feel kindness never again, did it ever felt it? Not punches, not grabs, no, just... placing her hand there. Like he isn't an animal with the rabbies but actually a just really fucked up little guy who is terrified of people because people gave him reasons to and barks and bites but is, at the end, very lonely and afraid because he pushed everyone away. Except for this lady. He tried. He bited and barked until he realized she doesn't care, that she alredy saw the scared guy he was and didn't cared. She didn't cared. She cared so much more than anyone that she didn't cared! She wasn't afraid! She wasn't going away! If anything, she sitted closer as time passed. And suddenly, a pet on the head. A so waited, so dreamed, so strange, so scary! Pat on the head. Gentle. Not like those who grabbed him to calm him down and only made him bark and bite with more energy. No. Gentle. It was new. It was nice. But he was afraid. Afraid. How long until she hits? He thinks. But she never hits. She brings him treats. Suspicious. But... not so... Why? It's just that he isn't used to see someone care. But she cares. And she doesn't goes away. And she doesn't turn her back. If anything, only to take the rolls out of the oven!

He doesn't thinks all that in the moment. He just wants. Oh. That felt nice. But was kinda unexpected. It's later at night that he thinks, if his three neurons decide to work. Mayne this is how his complex being feels but his tint neurons don't know how to think. He just loves and cares about the lovely woman that cares and loves back. I need more of them. They mean everything to me at this point factual I'm descending to madness.

AWROROOGOOGGHHHHGGGGG YOUR LOVE FOR TUNA FUELS MY SOULLL!!!! 😭😭THSNKYIUUUUU!!!😭😭💞💞💞💞

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Slide (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!Reader Modern AU Rated: T - language, suggestiveness, whump/blood/injury Word count: 5.4k

Summary: Benedict takes you on holiday to a remote bothy in the Scottish highlands. But things do not go according to plan.

Author's Note: This is an anon request fill for Benedict and Reader stranded in a cabin with an illness/injury. You can't threaten me with a whumpy good time, because this idea completely took over my brain and I wrote it in a day. 😅 Enjoy

“We should take advantage of the break in the rain. Let’s go on a little hike.”

“A hike?” You looked up from the sofa where you sat curled with a book. Benedict was standing by the door of the bothy, excitedly pulling on a coat. You had been having a relaxing holiday. Five days in a private luxury bothy in the Scottish highlands. He had been coming to the spot alone for years to paint and now wanted to share it with you under the pretense of your dating anniversary. You didn’t know if you believed such things deserved celebration, but your work in the city had been draining you lately and the reprieve was much appreciated. 

As luck would have it, your trip coincided with the rainiest weather in decades. It was always raining somewhere in Scotland but this was something else entirely. Torrential downpours for sporadic periods each day. But that hadn’t dampened your time together. Thus far, four days of nothing but lie-ins and fireside bottles of wine; reading while Benedict painted from imagination; lazy sex in the mornings and raucous sex at night. It was a bit dangerous that the bed was lofted, as your activities threatened to send you flying off of it. The little hideaway was so secluded that there was no internet and no cell signal, and that was one of the reasons Benedict loved it so much. He said he could hear his muse more clearly without the rest of the world butting in. Neighbors were also an impossibility, as the bothy was situated in a little copse of trees accessible only by crossing a footbridge that skirted a rough cliff edge. Nothing too high off the ground, but narrow enough that your car was parked half a mile away on the other side of the bridge. It was a tiny paradise, just you and the trees and the birds. The rain had occasionally relented to allow you a few rambles nearby, but you hadn’t undertaken anything as ambitious as to be called a ‘hike’.

Benedict was pulling his boots on and waving you toward the door. “Come on! Fresh air will do us good. Let’s go.”

You were remiss to leave your cozy nest but you knew he was right, and his crooked smile was irresistible. With a sigh you rose to your feet, donned your own coat and followed him.

He took your hand as you traipsed through the wet grass down the trail toward the bridge. The air had an earthy musk scent from the previous night’s deluge. It did feel good to stretch your legs. You didn’t even bother asking where you were headed, you would let Benedict lead you. But he suddenly stopped short. 

“You’ve got to be joking.” 

The path before you no longer led to the footbridge. Instead it ended abruptly at a slanting jumble of boulders. A rockslide off the side of the nearby cliff had completely blocked your exit.

You both stood dumbstruck, puzzling out your next steps.

“I don’t know how we didn’t hear this,” you murmured, imagining the rumbling crash of so many large stones piling upon themselves. 

Benedict chuckled next to you. “Well, one of us was being exceptionally noisy last night.”

You smacked him but it only made him laugh harder. Your frustration was building, so unused to being confronted with an obstacle you couldn’t quickly surmount. Or perhaps you could.

“I’m going to climb over.” You said definitively. “It looks solid enough. I’ll get to the other side, go back to the car and get help so this can get cleared away.”

“Well, I’m going with you.” Ben’s brow furrowed, something anxious in his eyes.

You shook your head. “Maybe. But one at a time. Let me test it out and find the footholds. I’m lighter than you.”

“Be careful,” he urged, but you were already clambering onto the nearest rock, pulling yourself over the larger pieces and tentatively resting your weight with each careful step. The top of the mound rose about eight feet off the ground and you scrabbled your way to it easily enough. Standing on top, you could see on the other side that the footbridge was still intact. It gave you a surge of confidence and you stepped forward, eager to scurry down the other side. Then everything sank, your stomach and your optimism as your right foot found a weak spot and shuddered downward in a small cascade of stones, sinking in up to your thigh until you felt it pinned at the ankle, the rocks trapping you in place.

“Shit!” You hissed, tugging uselessly to free yourself. It didn’t hurt, but it had immobilized you.

“What’s wrong?” Ben called from below, panicked.

You gritted your teeth. God, this was embarrassing. Off you had gone with bravado and now the universe was going to show you better. It was going to double down in fact, because you felt the first drops of rain spattering you from the dull grey sky. You clawed at the stones around your leg, able to toss some aside but others were so large you’d never be able to lift them. An animal part of your brain was starting to flood with fear, but you fought to keep your voice steady.

“I’m bloody stuck.” You lamented. “My leg is caught.” It wasn’t a request for assistance, but you should have known how he would react. 

“Hang on, I’m coming!” From your vantage point you could see Ben dash forward and begin to climb the rocks, not caring to test the stability of his steps, just rushing toward you. You opened your mouth to tell him to slow down, but your voice caught in your throat as everything suddenly rumbled, an ominous herald of what was coming. You both froze, staring wide eyed and feet apart from one another. Then everything shifted and fell away. 

Your entire sense of gravity tilted as the rocks beneath and around you slid, all jumbling together as they surged further away from the cliffside. You felt your leg snap within the grinding stone and cried out, landing on your side and feeling a jagged edge glance across your forehead. Your eyes fell on Benedict clamoring to reach you as he lost his own footing on the tumbling wave. He was unsuspecting, his eyes locked only on you when a massive boulder came rolling as easily as a toy ball and slammed into his side, knocking him out of view and into the tumult of roiling earth beneath you. You screamed his name but it was lost to the thunderous clatter. 

Amidst the chaos, one thought began to form clearly in your mind. This was how you would die. Crushed in a rockslide thanks entirely to your own stupidity. And worst of all, you had dragged Ben with you. The nightmare deepened as the sky ripped with a clap of thunder and rain began to pummel you in earnest as everything continued to slide and roll around you. Numb with anguish, all you could do was bury your face in your hands and wait for fate to claim you.

But it didn’t. In what felt like only a moment, everything stilled. The rocks had stopped moving, their sound had died away, and you were lying on top of the mound sensing nothing but the cold patter of heavy rain. You were still alive, a fact that was confirmed by the burning pain you felt pulsing in your leg. Looking down you saw that it was freed, released from the churning rocks, but it was bloodied and wouldn’t respond to your attempts to move it. Though it was a novel experience for you, there was no doubt in your mind that it was broken.

That was the least of your worries. As you came back to your senses they all tuned to one goal. You had to find Benedict. You called out for him, voice croaking, but were met with silence. You pushed yourself up to look around. The slide hadn’t buried the trail any further, only shifted on top of itself. You could see the path back to the bothy on one side and the footbridge on the other. But no Benedict. You screamed his name again, louder. Nothing. A sickening dread started to rise from your stomach as you began to pull yourself over the rock. You couldn’t stand properly and even if you could, you didn’t want to risk disturbing anything. It was better to spread your weight across the surface and so you began to slither on your belly, fingers bloodying themselves on rough edges as you dragged along in the direction you had last seen him. Everything was turning slick and muddy with the rain. You moved back down toward the trail, eyes sweeping, and just near the bottom is where you saw a spot of orange amidst the rubble. His shirt.

“Ben!” You shrieked, half-rising on your good leg to hobble over to him. You reached the bottom of the rock pile and saw him lying at the edge of it. You chanted his name desperately as you landed at his side. He was on his back mostly unhidden, a few small stones piled around his limbs which you pushed away, but one large one wedged over the right side of his chest. He was frighteningly pale and seemingly unconscious, lying still as he was battered by rain.

“Ben,” you called to him, taking his face in your hands. “Ben, wake up!” When he didn’t respond, your heart started hammering. No, no, no. You bent an ear to his mouth, silently praying to every deity you had ever heard of. To your great relief, he was breathing. But he was struggling. Your eyes landed on the boulder, covered in lichen and mocking you. You suddenly hated it more than you had hated anything in your life. With a surge of strength you didn’t know you possessed you drove yourself against it, leveraging with your good knee. It felt like fighting a brick wall and yet somehow after a moment, it loosened and you shoved until it tumbled backward and off of Benedict. 

Immediately he took a loud, wheezing inhale followed by a groaning “Fuuuuucccckkkkk.”

You would have laughed with relief if you were not so strung out on adrenaline and hell bent on getting as far away from this death trap as possible. 

“Ben,” You shook him lightly. “Benedict, open your eyes.” 

He did so, blinking against the rain, taking a moment to focus. Those bright, gentle eyes gazed back at you and made you feel rooted to the earth again. 

“We need to get back to the bothy. Can you stand?”

He stared at you, seeming dazed, then brought a hand to your forehead, speaking softly. “You’re bleeding.”

As his fingers came away red, you were surprised that you didn’t feel any pain other than the dull throb of your leg. None of this was important right now. You had to get to shelter and then you could assess all of your wounds.

“I’m alright.” You stated firmly. “We need to go, come on now.”

He wrapped his right arm around your shoulders, the sleeve of his coat ripped and dirtied. You braced against each other as best you could and tried to stand but both fell back with shouts of pain, you unable to tolerate any weight on your shattered leg, and him clutching at his right side. You were in bad shape, but had no other options than to push through. No one was coming to help you and neither of you would leave the other.

You locked into each other’s eyes, breathing hard, and a silent understanding passed between you. Now was not a time for weakness. You would need to be strong for each other. You banded your arms around each other once again and, wincing and gasping, slowly staggered to your feet. Ben leaned heavily across your shoulders while you hopped on your left foot and dragged the other behind you.

Somehow through the pouring rain, with the screaming throb in your leg and Benedict swaying weightily beside you, you inched back along the trail to the bothy, soaked to the bone once you finally shambled inside. You maneuvered to gingerly lay Benedict onto the sofa but he still cried out at the movement. Then he laid still, eyes screwed shut against the pain as he exhaled raggedly through his nose. Spurred to action, you hopped loudly around the small space gathering towels, blankets, water, and the tiny first aid kit stashed in a cupboard. What use it would be, you didn’t know, but it was all you had. You checked your phone, already knowing there was no signal to dial out but instinctively needing to confirm it. Your mind spun. Plans. Actions. Steps. You were going to fix this. You were going to get out of this situation. You just had to keep your head, which was significantly harder to do when the man you loved was lying nearby as pale as a ghost and groaning. But you could get yourselves warm and dry. That was a first step.

After stoking a fire in the woodstove you lowered to sit next to the sofa, clumsily tumbling onto the floor as you winced at the shooting ache in your leg. Benedict’s eyes flew open and he looked at you with concern. “Your leg’s broken?” He intuited.

“Mmhmm,” You nodded, breathing through the pain. “But I’m fine. We need to check you out.”

You mopped his hair and face with a towel, the friction and heat from the nearby stove bringing some color back to his skin. You searched his eyes.

“What hurts? How do you feel?”

He grimaced. “Dizzy, but not too bad. I don’t know if I’m concussed or if I just got hit by a great bloody bunch of rocks.” He ended with his telltale smirk.

You were feeling anything but humorous at that moment. His joke made your insides seize, worried something may be seriously wrong.

“Have you been concussed before? Do you know what it feels like?”

He grinned further. “I have. You don’t grow up with seven siblings and not end up concussed. This doesn’t feel the same, but I can’t be sure.” Your mind started to quest through any errant information you had about concussions. He could read the panic in your expression and brought a hand to wrap around yours. “Hey, it’s going to be alright. If I start to go loopy that’s not a good sign, but I really think I’m okay.”

All you could do was nod tightly, imagining a dozen horrific scenarios and realizing there was little to nothing you could do about them. You simply had to stay focused on the moment and the fact that he was clear headed now. 

“What else?”

He waved a hand vaguely over his right side. “Something bad, here.”

As carefully as you could, you worked in tandem to peel off his sopping coat while bit back yelps of agony. You frowned at the sight of his right arm, scraped and lacerated shoulder to wrist, but it didn’t appear to be broken. Then you lifted the hem of his t-shirt and he arched as best he could so that you could pull it off, turning his face away as he seethed into the cushions. You sucked in a breath, horrified by what you had uncovered. A bruise, black and purple and green, mottling the entire side of his body and rippling with each breath. Cursing to yourself, you rested fingertips lightly over it and even that caused him to flinch. 

“I think…” you wavered. “I think your ribs are broken.”

He stared at the ceiling, his voice tight but sarcastic. “Yep, that feels about right.”

“Can you breathe?”

“Well enough,” he sighed. 

The severity of the situation was sinking in. Hysteria was starting to bubble in your chest but you locked your jaw, determined to keep it together. “What do I… What should I do, Ben? How do I fix this?”

He turned to look at you, his expression going soft. “You can’t fix it.”

That threatened to push you over the edge. Your constitution slipped, your chin started to tremble, tears mounting in your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He cupped your face with a large hand, pads of his fingers pressing into your hair, urging you to focus. “We’re going to be alright. This is what’s going to happen. Tomorrow is our last rental day and the owners visit the property between guests. So they’ll come, see the path is blocked and know that we’re stuck here. They’ll get help. We just have to wait until tomorrow. We have everything we need here. We just have to be still and wait.”

You nodded, swallowing hard against the tears, ashamed that you couldn’t be stronger but breathlessly grateful that he would comfort you even when he was grievously injured. You kissed the palm of his hand and steadied yourself against its warmth. So very little was in your control, but you were determined to right the things that were. Moving carefully and trying to ignore the protesting pangs from your leg, you dried him off and piled him with blankets. The stove was burning high and the bothy still had the cozy air you had enjoyed the past few days. You stripped off your own soaking tops down to your bra and wrapped yourself in a blanket. Then you wet a rag and started to clean the cuts on his arm, dressing them with the ointment and bandages from the first aid kit.

Benedict watched you silently, something twinkling and bemused in his eyes. You worried that if you stared at him too long you were going to cry, so you focused on your task. Once you were finished he held out his hand.

“Give me the rag.” You handed it to him. “Come here.”

You shifted up to face him, concerned. “What do you need?”

Wordlessly, he pulled your chin closer with one hand and began to lightly dab at your forehead with the other. You closed your eyes, feeling the tears threaten again. If there was one thing Benedict Bridgerton would never cease to be come hell or high water, it was a caretaker of others. You weren’t quite sure what you had done to deserve such a man, but you knew it was imperative that you never let him go. As he wiped the blood away, your cut started to sting. You hadn’t found a mirror to examine it and you frankly didn’t want to. He was your only concern right now.

“Does it hurt?” He asked softly. You were too overcome to do anything other than nod. Then he pulled your chin down even further, leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to your wound. 

That’s what broke you. You finally let the tears spill down your cheeks, burrowing your face into the side of his neck. “I’m so sorry, Ben,” you whispered.

“What are you sorry for?” He asked, bewildered.

“I should never have tried to climb those damned rocks.”

He huffed. “You were trying to help us. I’m the one who shouldn’t have jumped up after you.”

You pulled back, sniffling. “You were trying to help me.”

“And look where all of that help landed us,” he smirked, causing you both to chuckle. But his laugh almost immediately turned into agonized gasps. 

“Alright, alright,” You put a steadying hand on his shoulder. “No laughing.”

“You need to splint your leg,” he rasped.

“How precisely should I do that?”

His eyes darted around the room. “The kindling for the stove. Take two long pieces and tie them off with towels.”

You began to drag yourself across the floor toward the woodpile, a realization forming that perhaps two people with zero medical training between them should not be as drawn to outdoor isolation as you were. You gathered two sturdy sticks and a handful of dish towels and then scraped your way back to his side.

“Make sure your leg is straight and tie it tight,” Benedict instructed. You nodded but were filled with apprehension. Ever since you had collapsed on the floor, your useless leg had been twisted at an appalling angle. You knew setting it was going to hurt. Taking a deep breath, you reached forward and tugged it straight. A white hot jab of pain jolted through your whole body, causing you to scream. Distantly, you could hear Benedict speaking to you, his hand rubbing circles across your back. His touch was what you focused on, the only thing helping you to fight the nausea as you lined up the wood and tied it tightly on either side of your broken limb, whimpering with each knot pulled. You fell back against the side of the sofa, panting as you found equilibrium and the searing pain faded back to an insistent throb. Benedict wrapped an arm across your chest, the closest thing to an embrace he could offer. You lay in silence together, exhausted, settling in for what was sure to be the longest night of your life.

Warmed by the fire and lulled by the rain driving against the windows, the atmosphere inside the bothy would have been dreadfully romantic if you weren’t both immobilized by broken bones and stranded, awaiting rescue. It would have been all too easy to fall asleep, but you were determined to stay awake until help arrived. You scooched yourself around the floor with all the grace of a geriatric slug, feeding the stove and brewing tea which you helped Benedict to drink as he lay flat. Out of habit you kept checking your phone, wondering if by some miracle a cell signal would appear.

“Sorry there’s no service here,” Benedict frowned. “Part of the whole appeal. Going off the grid.”

“I know,” you ran a reassuring hand through his hair. “It’s not your fault, I just can’t help checking. We need something to occupy ourselves.” Your eyes fell to the stacks of books beneath the coffee table, a motley assortment from the owners and you suspected, prior guests. You began to assess the authors, gauging his reactions.

“Dostoevsky?”

He grinned. “Well, I would enjoy that but I know it would put you to sleep.”

He was right. You set it back. “Ooo! Byron!” You lilted, waving the book at him tauntingly.

He groaned. “God, please. I’m in enough pain already.”

You laughed and tossed it aside. Next was a sleek, mysterious cover with a blurb promising ‘luxurious, unbridled passion’. You smirked. That seemed exciting enough to keep you both awake. 

“We’re reading filth,” you announced, settling in next to him again. You had expected something humorous, the kind of tawdry romance novel that every aunt seemed to be fond of. But while the story started out playful enough, the simmering sexual energy woven by the author’s talented prose was so evocative, you both started to squirm. The fearless, beautiful depictions of the lovers’ encounters were so salacious that you were too stunned to keep reading them aloud, your mouth falling open as you blushed instead. Dimestore trash this was not.

Benedict shifted behind you but you couldn’t look at him. “Maybe save that one for later,” he croaked. “Jesus, who wrote that?”

“Faye someone.” You mumbled, setting it aside with a mental note to steal it or buy your own copy.

“Please make me think of something else now,” Benedict pleaded, his voice tight.

“P.G. Wodehouse it is.” You smiled, grateful to have found something light and familiar.

“Brilliant.”

By the time you finished the short volume it was dark outside but the rain hadn’t let up. You could have switched on the lights but that seemed too harsh for the states you were in. The fire was a more relaxing illumination.

Your stomach rumbled, waking up after an extended period of anxiety. “We should eat something.” You had food enough to cook meals for one more day, but could scrounge for now. You trailed a hand lazily over Benedict’s cheek. “What do you want?”  He raised a brow. “Scotch. Neat.”

“You’re not drinking in your condition.” You said firmly, eliciting an exaggerated pout from him. “And neither am I. Do you have an appetite for anything solid?”

“Not really.”

“Just bread?”

You knew that would bring a light to his eyes. “With butter?”

You grinned. “Of course.” It was never a question with him. That was the one thing he would always happily eat. Setting off on another crawling journey across the floor to the kitchenette, you cobbled together your dinner. Bread, butter, a bit of cheese, a jar of olives. It would do. It was damn near continental. 

After your haphazard meal you found Benedict’s eyes drifting closed, everything about him looking utterly spent.

You held his hand in your own and kissed his bloodied knuckles. “Ben, you’re drifting off. Should you…can you sleep with a concussion?”

His eyes fluttered open, bleary. “Yes,” he mumbled. “Just wake me up every couple of hours to make sure I know my own name. Ask me some questions.”

“Alright.” You nodded, trying to ignore the spike of fear inside. What if he was hiding how he truly felt for your sake? What if he did have a concussion and got worse while he slept? What if you couldn’t wake him up again? Part of you wanted to plead with him to stay awake through the night, but it was overruled by the part that told you to trust him. Choosing hope, you squeezed his hand and laid it across his chest.

“What about you?” He was fading fast, eyes closed.

“I’m not tired,” you lied. “Get some rest.”

Then your vigil began. You set your phone alarm to go off every three hours and brewed another pot of tea. You would stay awake. If anything was compelling enough to combat your wearied body’s exhaustion, it was the need to make sure Benedict kept breathing and that he could come back to you when you woke him. You stayed at his side, studying the angles of his handsome face in the glow of the fire, grateful that he seemed to be peaceful. And you waited.

__

“Ben?”

“Mmm?”

“Where are you?”

“In Scotland.”

“Why are we here?”

“We’re on holiday.”

“Who is your eldest brother?”

“Anthony.”

“Alright, go back to sleep.”

—

“Ben?”

“Mmm?”

“Where are you?”

“In the mountains.”

“Why are we here?”

“I wanted to paint.”

“Where did you take me on our second date?”

“I said, ‘What do you say we go to Marseille?’”

“Yes, it was awful of you. I finally committed to you and then you said cheesy mad shit like that.”

“But you came with me.”

“I did.”

“And you enjoyed yourself.”

“I did. Go back to sleep.”

—

The third time you woke him, the light was turning grey outside and the rain had weakened to fits of spray. It was the day of your rescue. You just had to wait a few more hours. You decided you should probably wake Benedict for good.

“Ben?” You ran your hands through his hair, coaxing him back.

“Mmm?” 

He had awoken so easily each time, it was reassuring.

“Where are you?”

“I’m with you,” he slurred.

Your heart faltered, touched by his response but also concerned at its vagueness. 

“And who am I?”

Even though his eyes remained closed, his lips tilted into a small smile. “You’re the love of my life.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Exhaustion, fear, relief and love heaping upon one another.

Your voice trembled. “Where are we both right now?”

“We’re stuck in the bloody bothy.” He spat.

You chuckled, running your thumb over his forehead. He seemed to be lucid. “Why are we here?”

“I wanted to ask you,” he sighed, sounding almost as if slipping back into sleep.

You were confounded. “Ask me what?”

At last his eyes blinked open, settling on you with the steady, blue-grey stare that you could drown in. 

“Get my coat.” 

Still confused, you did as he asked, pulling his coat from the side of the sofa and handing it to him. It was only when he began rummaging through the pockets that realization struck and you froze. Time seemed to slow as he finally pulled out a small box and tossed the coat aside. He pried the lid open and brought it to rest on his bruised chest so that you were staring face first at a silver ring twined with a sapphire and pearls.

“Ask you to be my wife.” He declared, that timeless cheeky grin lighting his face. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t move. You weren’t sure if you were delirious with exhaustion or dreaming. He continued. “The hike was to an overlook. The landscape I painted that you love so much? I wanted to ask you there. I’m sorry we didn’t make it.”

Everything was falling into place. His insistence on this holiday. The uncharacteristic request for a hike. He had meant it to be one of the most memorable days of your life. It had certainly turned out that way, but not in the expected fashion.

Entirely ignoring the beautiful ring, you pulled him into a kiss.

“Oh, Ben.” You weren’t sure if you were laughing or crying or about to faint. You just needed to have him close.

He nuzzled his nose against yours, trying to convey as much affection as he could while not being able to move.

“This isn’t how I wanted it to be, but I need to ask you before anything else goes wrong.”

You stared back at him in alarm. “Nothing else is going to go wrong. Don’t you dare say that.”

He only smiled, devastating with his boyish grin and the cheerful crinkles around his bright eyes. 

“So? Will you?”

“Yes! Yes, of course I will.” Your words were muffled into his lips as you kissed him again, hands wound tight into his hair, never wanting to let go. You didn’t feel tired anymore. You didn’t feel your pain. All you felt was him. Even now he smelled so wonderful, tasted so wonderful. He was light and certainty. He felt like home. 

When you managed to pry yourself off of him, his eyes were glittering. He plucked the ring from its box and slid it onto your shaking hand.

“In sickness and in health.” He beamed. “I think we’ve already covered that bit.”

“Yes, we have.” You fell upon him again, breathless, everything fading behind the reality that he would be yours forever. It was a twist of fortune you’d never feel worthy of.

A few hours later you were snogging rather ferociously when someone began pounding on the door. It was emergency services. Just as Benedict had foretold, the bothy owners had seen the rockslide and sent help. He was infuriatingly correct in that way most of the time. A team of people dressed in yellow bandaged you both further and expressed surprise as how well you had handled yourselves under the circumstances. The rubble would take too long to be cleared but with specialty equipment they carried you expertly over to safety and into awaiting ambulances.

Your tallied damage was three leg fractures, three forehead stitches, three broken ribs and no concussion. ‘Symmetrically maimed’ as Benedict proudly announced to your family members who sped up to Scotland to collect you. In the subsequent weeks everyone was so busy fluttering around your injuries that no one noticed your ring finger. You and Benedict made a game of it, placing bets on who would be the first. You won the bet when three weeks in, Violet suddenly clamped eyes on your left hand and started yelping. Then added to the endless questions about your harrowing tale of survival, you were peppered with questions about wedding plans. Muscling through each day as a couple of lovesick invalids, you hadn’t found time to make any, but you had agreed on one thing. No matter where you went on honeymoon, hiking would not be on the itinerary.

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @faye-tale

[lunarleonardo]

You like fanganronpas? If yes, which ones you like? :3

Ohhhh OHH I looove Fanganronpas. The only ones I've seen are Super Danganronpa Another 2 (i couldnt figure out how to play the first one :( i also just havent had much time), Danganronpa Despair Time, and Danganronpa Lapse. lunar ramble incoming

(will try to avoid spoilers for each fangan !!)

DRDT was the first one I saw, probably since I imagine it's one of the most popular, and ohh. I LOOOVE Teruko!! teruko they will never make me hate you. She and Whit are definitely some of my favs,, because. well. Who doesn't love Whit xD I also really like Nico :p I think they're sooo funny just. in general. btw chapter two had me in pieces thanks for asking

SDRA2 took me a good week to watch, and ill admit. i didnt finish chapter 6 (ノ_＜。) I was really sick when I watched chapters 3 and 4, and it didnt help that i was pulling all nighters because i was so hyperfocused i couldnt sleep. chapter 3's trial is unironically one of the most entertaining things Ive ever seen in any dr game AND fangan EVER. Like guys!! what is happening here!! that being said, I sort of knew who the culprit would be cus i was spoiled just a tiny bit, but I was STILL SURPRISED AT THE END cus ohhh my god. the twist. Sora is one of my fav protags ever btw I love yuri and NO not the character Yuri althohgh. he was really funny ill admit. He wasnt creepy in the Hifumi/Teruteru way and i really appreciate him for that. i also laugehd when they found him and he was like "Oh hi guys!" totally normally. dont get me started on... teruya and mikado ...... duuuudee they were actually tweaking literally what were they even doing. This fangan captured DR essence very well and took it a step further in an even more unhinged way, probably due to tbe lack of limitations on monetization n stuff, and honestly I APPLAUD that. i want what they have lowkey

Danganronpa Lapse is the one I played most recently and HOOOLY SHIT do not get me STARTED. ECHO!! ECHOOOO!!!!!!!!!! i was SO HAPPY finding a nonbinary dr protagonist you have no idea. and they were SOOO CUTE </3 DR Lapse is definitely a LOT shorter than any usual DR format and it deviated a lot, but despite that it still felt like a Danganronpa game and everyone there was SO. i was so in love with them. rip lyle you wouldve loved your turn to die. I do have to admit I was a little confused on the ending, but overall I really really enjoyed it. Also Zero was there and that makes it an immediate 11/10 thank you zero for accidrntally making me give you the funniest possible voice for your character

ok so it just hit me..now. BUT!! I have seen a little bit of Cartoons in Danganronpa!! I really really need to watch the prologue and..yknow...actual chapter instead of just watching the class trial and being absolutely blown away by every tiny thing. Theres a lot of characters in there I LOVE and especially seeing DIPPER GOD DAMNED PINES?? IN DANGANRONPA???? AND ERIC CARTMAN?? absolutely peak. funniest thing ever. but also i am so scared for the conclusion of that trial because the suspects are worrying. Also shoutout to Gaz for being the funniest one there . The artwork is so similar to their respective styles but you can still so clearly see a touch of the creator's own style and that really gives the entire fangan its own charm. The voice work!! Incredible. Thats another thing that hit me hard with DRDT TOO!! THE VOICE ACTING!! fuuuck it's sooo good ugh

another one is Ive seen the prologue to DR Mortalis Perpetua. I think it's a REALLY fascinating approach on the danganronpa style and I need to make the time to watch the new eps .. attention span please if you can hear me come back i need you

I love these fangans SO much and I love love seeing fangans in general. It's amazing seeing people's passions come to life, and i get SOO so happy whenever I see one. I adore peoples creativity, and even if it doesnt catch my eye, I still appreciate the passion and work put into those projects ^^゜゜(´O｀)°゜

And honestly? I really want to make my own fangan. I do already have one, a crossover fangan with my girlfriend, but I really want to make one in a video game format. I know I'll probably forget about this in like a month or two, but I have always wanted to try and make games. That would mean, however, I have to teach myself coding... @_@; so Ive been on Scratch. and it's going great (ITS NOT ITS NOT ITS NOT ITS N

if anyone out there has any tips for getting into making games... please help. I have a very bad habit of overwhelming mysrlf ( ；∀；) and i need a starting point lmao

anyway we'll see. I fear I might need to start looking into ADHD medication

[a-tear-in-space]

hHhhhh it's "Jasper makes Milgram theories while horribly sleep-deprived" time

Alright. So. If you remember, Es makes a comment at some point (I don't remember where, probably in a VD) about how Haruka should have been 006 or 007. This means that the prisoners' order is significant in some way.

So, thus was born this theory that I kind of just thought of off the top of my head - what if the prisoners' number reflects how much control they had over the things that led them to commit the crimes they did?

Rambling starts under the cut

So, what are the prisoner's crimes? (A reflection)

Haruka - Strangling a girl to death

Yuno - Multiple Abortions

Fuuta - Starting a hate campaign against a girl that led to her committing suicide

Muu - Stabbing someone to death after mentally breaking from being bullied horribly

Shidou - Harvesting the organs of patients in order to try and save his wife

Mahiru - Causing her boyfriend to commit suicide due to her overbearing way of "loving"

Kazui - Causing his wife to commit suicide due to him keeping a secret (likely that he is a godamn homosexual) for the entirety of their marriage, which did lead to the downfall of the life they had.

Amane - Beating someone (likely her mother- "My mother should have kept her faith until the very end") to death, likely due to her victim leaving the cult or at least trying to (hence the quote.)

Mikoto (John) - Beating multiple people to death in order to protect Mikoto

Kotoko - Hunting down and killing people who were preying on the unsuspecting ("I can't stand the evil hurting the weak") in her pursuit of justice

With that out of the way... it's analysis time boys.

Haruka was clearly extremely mentally ill and was jealous of the girl we saw in weakness, which was reinforced by his mother not loving him due to his learning disability and seemingly preferring that girl over him. If Haruka had been given proper love and support throughout his childhood, I think it's fairly obvious that he would not have done the things he did. He may have had a tiny bit of control over things, but again, if he had been cared for and his mental disability had been acknowledged rather than one of the things that led to someone he held in high esteem (his mother) hating him, he would not have done what he did.

Yuno's "crime" is obviously abortions, she pretty much confirms it. And if you all have the slightest bit of knowledge on how babies are made, you'll know that the woman's egg is not the baby, the man's sperm cell is - therefore, her "crime" wasn't something that was in her control, as she obviously never chose to get pregnant or really wanted to. She chose to get the abortions, sure, but the actions that caused her to get them was of no fault of her own.

Fuuta's crime was pretty indirect itself, and he clearly didn't mean for it to happen. He only started the ball rolling that led to his victim committing suicide. So while he did have some level of control over it (Literally doxxing the victim and starting everything) he had no real say in how things spiralled.

Muu's crime wasn't really intended either, let's be honest - she was clearly on the verge of snapping as it was, and the one person that didn't immediately turn to bullying her after her whole thing was exposed turning away from her pushed her over the metaphorical edge. Though let's be honest here - she did kind of have some level of control over the things that led to her committing said murder, what with her whole "Queen Bee" thing.

Shidou’s crime was clearly influenced by his grief and all the mental fuckwittery that comes along with that (seriously, grief is no joke,) and he was not in a good headspace, convinced that he might be able to save the only remaining family he had by taking the organs of others. Yes, he did have control over his actions, but again, his mental state clearly influenced the actions he took.

Mahiru didn't even know the harm she was doing in her relationship because of just how unstable she was, and so blinded by love that she didn't even realise how toxic things were until it was far too late. Yes, she did have control over how the relationship was, but again, her mental state clearly influenced how things turned out. And nobody really has any "control" over a suicide, so.

Kazui let the lies and fear take over his life to the point where he played with someone's feelings, making her believe that he genuinely loved her the way she loved him. Hell, they even got married even though Kazui was lying through his teeth the whole time. So yeah, he had a pretty decent amount of control over the things that led to his wife committing suicide. Do I really think he intended for it to happen? Of course not - again nobody really has any "control" over a suicide. But once more, he pretty much just led his wife on for years (yes, he cared for her platonically, but not in the way she believed he did) and she genuinely did love him.

Amane did things mostly of her own accord, though it's fairly obvious that the cult had influence over her actions, her eyes after she committed her crime shows this. But what I also want to point out is that it, most likely, was her own decision to kill her mother. She saw her trying to leave the cult (assuming that theory is correct, ofc) and decided to beat her to death. She had control over what she did.

Mikoto is a difficult one, judging as his murders were done by John, and John obviously did them to protect Mikoto. But John definitely did have control over the whole, yk, murdering thing. He chose who to kill, he chose to kill them, that kind of thing.

Kotoko had, let's be honest, the most amount of control over her actions. She did them because she wanted to, not because anybody influenced her to do them. She wanted to protect people, so she killed the people who were hurting them. One of the lines in HARROW is literally "I want to gouge you out with my fangs." The key word here is Want. It was something she did because she firmly believed she was right to do so. She had complete control.

I probably drifted away from my original point more than once while writing this rambling theory, but I'm sleep-deprived and on a bus. So.

[hunter-sylvester]

Hi! I’m the anon who wrote the ask about Hunter’s parental issues and about his attachment to Kevin. Thank you for answering my asks, I absolutely love the way you write and how you explain everything! You’re extremely talented!🫶

I honestly didn’t notice how in love Hunter was with Kevin until I watched the movie a second time. It’s crazy how you can literally see all feeling in Hunter’s eyes when he looks at Kevin. I also loved how you said that their relationship fits a BDSM bratting dynamic, because I totally see it.

[and as someone who has ADHD and deals with RSD on a regular, I completely understand him. It sucks.]

Hey 🤘 [prev ask for context] Yeah I obviously couldn’t be 100% sure they were from the same person but it definitely makes the most sense lol

Thank you so much! I’m really glad you enjoy my rambling thoughts about Hunter as a character <3

If you do like my writing, I’m tempted to sheepishly gesture over to my actual Metal Lords fics over on Ao3 if you haven’t checked them out, even tho it makes me feel like a bit of a dick to do so 😅 (They are mostly locked to registered users, blame AI data scraping. The only Metal Lords fic not locked rn is a tiny ficlet. An Ao3 account is free tho 👀)

In any case, I really appreciate that you pushed me to do a bit of analysis again. Because sometimes I tend to forget that all the stuff that lives in my head as “obvious” isn’t always stuff I’ve said out loud on here lmao

There’s a lot to pull from the film if you’re willing to be a bit mentally ill about it.

And you’re absolutely right about the way he looks at Kevin, I mean, it happened enough for me to make a whole ass gifset of it lmao

Look at him. The boy is smitten. Clueless, of course. But smitten.

Which I credit basically entirely to Adrian Greensmith, as it was a vision he had for the character. I really can’t imagine Hunter having been played by anyone else as he brought so much to the role. (Fun fact, if I remember correctly: Noah Urrea, who plays Clay, originally auditioned for Hunter. No harm but I'm very glad he didn't get that. He makes a good Clay and Hunter just needed to be played by Adrian.)

One of the key things Adrian brought to the role also being, probably accidentally, his anxiety.

"I spent a lot of Metal Lords feeling a bit anxious [...] and in hindsight I wonder if some of that was just a sign that Hunter was quite an anxious character [...] I mean his body's so tense all the time." - Adrian Greensmith.

I shortened that quite a bit so I'm including a slightly longer clip of the interview audio for more context. (I can upload a subtitled video clip if anyone wants that as well as link the video on yt but I'd have to do a bit of a search for that)

Aside: If I had to guess I'd say he's probably referring to Peter Sollett who directed Metal Lords when he mentions a 'Pete'.

And yeah the bratting thing was a little bit of a joke but mostly not a joke. Without going absolutely off the deep end, the mentality behind bratting is something I really see in Hunter.

Evie Lupine has a wonderful video about bratting and why people would be interested in it (and why some people hate it) but a short snippet that always spoke to me from that is the following:

"The motivations behind bratting are pretty varied. I think one of the main ones would be a sense of security and comfort. This is when the acting out is sort of a way to be reassured that even when you, break rules, even when you push at things, the partner that you're with is not going to abandon you." - Evie Lupine

Obviously, with Hunter's fear of abandonment, it's easy to see why this would appeal to him.

He also just...idk he has brat energy - sincerely, a brat.

And Kevin does just play out the counterpart to that. He doesn't always have Hunter under control but he tries to.

And he does mostly act as that safe person to brat against, which again amplifies the impact it has when Hunter starts to think he's actually losing Kevin, destroying that feeling of safety.

Aside: I obviously don't think that these characters, in universe, negotiated for a bratting dynamic. In universe it'd be something that just sort of organically developed within their friendship/relationship. But even more than that it's an archetype of a dynamic that we as the audience can easily read into their interactions if that makes sense.

Can you believe the shit they will accidentally put in movies? lmao

And yeah, I have ADHD as well. And RSD is something that affects me pretty fucking severely. I've only really become more aware of it in the past year or so as my partner has pointed it out more and more.

So it's definitely something that I then noticed more and more in Hunter too.

Obviously this is all just my take on the character, and other people might have totally different interpretations. That's the beauty of art, we all get to find what we need in it and read it in our own ways, influenced by our own life experiences.

Thank you again for asking, Anon 🤘 (if you want to use a nickname or smth to identify that you're the same Anon, let me know. If not, that's totally okay too, but I might not always know it's you)

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

How to Become Patient Zero in One or Two Easy Steps

Rating: General Audiences Characters: Bowser, Bowser Junior, Kamek, Mario, Luigi, Peach Relationships: Bowser & Bowser Junior, Bowser & Peach, Bowser & Luigi, Bowser & Kamek Tags: Sickfic, Humor, Fluff, Kamek is Bowser’s Dad, Sicktember 2023

Summary: Bowser’s having a good feeling about this kidnapping attempt, so when he discovers he’s sick he tries to push through and hide it to see his latest scheme through to the end. This doesn't work out, obviously. Prompts: 4. Hiding an Illness, 6. Sick and Injured, 14. "I shouldn’t be worried about you, but for some reason I am", 21. "But if you stay, you'll get sick too", 30. Patient Zero Word Count: 1,352 words

[AO3 Link]

~~~

In Bowser’s opinion, this latest kidnapping scheme was going pretty smoothly so far.

Princess Peach was captured and secured, despite a small scuffle — it was equal parts fun and frustrating when someone accidentally left a weapon lying too close to her — and the Mario Bros were — well, they weren't being stopped, but they were only midway through World 2! The later surprises he had in store for them would get them for sure!

Everyone was working like a well-oiled machine, at top form, and Bowser was just going to join them. Just as soon as he finished enduring this wave of whatever crud he’d woken up with today.

Well — actually he’d woken up with it days ago, hoping to push through it as his plans fell into place. But it proved hard to ignore, with his throat so raw and his sinuses so stuffed and his very bones aching something fierce. Usually it’d be something to just sleep off and let pass, but with all these preparations to do he’d hardly had more than a few minutes to sit down, let alone take a nap. This was the longest break he’d had in a while, to be honest, hidden in some forgotten hallway taking a breather.

It wasn't like he could call all this off either; everything was way too far along for that and besides, Bowser had a good feeling about this attempt! Though, he knew if Kamek got even a whiff of the idea that Bowser was under the weather then he’d force him to cancel everything anyway. Luckily, Bowser had coincidentally sent him off earlier to supervise the World 7 and 8 work, sparing him from those scrutinizing eyes.

As for the other pair of scrutinizing eyes, though...Bowser turned to face Junior, who had been watching him suspiciously. Those were a bit more difficult to avoid.

“Hey, Junior!” Bowser’s voice cracked a little as the words left his mouth. He hid a wince.

Junior’s gaze narrowed. “...Dad, are you sick?” he asked Bowser outright.

“What? Nah,” Bowser replied a little too quickly. He realized he was leaning a hand against the wall for support and straightened abruptly, almost falling over the other way as he got dizzy for a second. “I just...uh...didn't get that much sleep last night! Working hard, you know how it is!”

Junior didn’t look convinced.

“You don't have to worry!” Bowser stifled a cough. “I’m fine! Just taking a break!”

“But what if I'm worried anyway?” Junior said, frowning up at Bowser. “Even though I'm not supposed’ta be?”

Bowser made to ruffle Junior’s hair, remembered his elevated body temperature, and then didn’t. “Well then...” he said, pasting a smirk onto his face, “I’ll show ya you don't have to be worried, by squashing those Loser Bros. flat when they get here!”

“Not if I beat them with my mech first!” Junior grinned, suspicions visibly fading at the implied challenge.

“Heh, we’ll see about that!” Ah, what else could distract him...? “Speaking of your mech, you figure out how to fit in those rocket launchers yet?”

“Almost!” Junior began rambling about his design process, successfully distracted. Bowser breathed a tiny sigh of relief, managing to cajole Junior into running off to put some finishing touches onto his contraption. 

In his son’s absence, Bowser muffled a sneeze into his arm, his nose burning at the effort to keep it locked behind his teeth. Yikes, that was close. He wasn't sure how long he could keep this up. Pretending he was fine was exhausting, almost more so than being sick itself. But Bowser refused to let some minor illness get the better of him so easily. He stepped out from the hallway to rejoin his army. Yeah, he’d have those pesky germs knocked out flat in no time!

---

Bowser woke up slowly, blinking up at the rich purple canopy of his bed. Why was he in bed? He wracked his brain trying to remember. The cotton his head felt stuffed with made it impossible. The last thing he did was...was...what was it?

Bowser heard a shuffling noise next to him. It was Greenie, staring at him wide-eyed.

“...What’re you lookin’ at?” Bowser glared at him. 

In lieu of answering, Greenie burst into tears.

“Wh —?” Bowser tried to sit up; it was a bit difficult with his arms and half his torso in bandages and his entire body feeling shaky and weak, but he somehow managed. Whatever was sitting on his head fell off — an ice pack, whose absence was almost immediately felt based on the throbbing in his skull. “Shut up,” Bowser snapped at Greenie, trying to sound intimidating. The words came out as if he’d eaten gravel, and upon hearing them Greenie somehow began crying harder, so obviously that didn't work.

As if summoned, Mario skidded into the room, Kamek not far behind with a large mug of tea gripped in his claws. “Oh, you're awake,” Kamek said. He sounded cross, and Bowser couldn't help but feel nervous. “I was wondering why you insisted on keeping me out in the field,” he continued, and uh-oh. 

“You said I didn't have to be worried!” was the first thing Junior shouted as soon as he ran into the room next and aw jeez. What even happened?

Peach, a blanket over her shoulders and the last one to crowd his bedside, filled him in. Apparently his and the Marios’ final battle had started off as usual, but partway through the fight Mario had noticed Bowser acting off. The lack of banter and boasting, the faltering reflexes, the whiffed attacks...the amount of evidence pointing to something being wrong had grown ever larger. Until Greenie had thrown his hammer at Bowser’s head, a predictable, highly telegraphed maneuver that Bowser normally would have dodged with ease. Instead, it had hit Bowser full force, and he’d dropped like a stone and stopped moving. Greenie had been honestly scared he’d killed Bowser right then and there, hence the waterworks now.

“As if you could kill me.” Bowser scowled at Greenie. Greenie hiccuped, still teary.

Anyway, Mario had swiftly run off to find Kamek, and Peach had passed along the suspicions Junior had shared with her a while ago plus a few suspicions of her own — for example, Bowser had visited her a lot less than usual this time around. And then they all stayed to help take care of Bowser. “This is the first time you’d woken up this coherent, you know,” Peach told him, cocking a grin.

The first time? Bowser frowned. “Well, now I’m awake for real. So get out of here before you get sick with whatever this is, too.”

Peach shook her head. “That ship has already sailed —”

As if on cue, Mario sneezed. Bowser looked over to where he was patting Greenie on the shoulder. Mario met his gaze and shrugged. 

“It’s been a few days, and you were really bad off,” Peach explained. “So we’re going to keep helping you until you’re better, and then you’ll have to mind us, as we won't be fit to travel for a while.” She raised her chin. “Think of it as payback, for scaring us all half to death.”

Bowser grumbled, sinking further into the bed. He didn't want the Mario Bros hanging around his castle. Blegh.

Kamek knocked back the rest of his tea, slamming the mug down on the end table with a little more force than necessary. “If you're finished with your explanations,” Kamek said mildly, gesturing at Mario and Greenie and Peach even as he kept his eyes on Bowser. “I’d like to have a moment with Patient Zero here, if you wouldn't mind.”

Mario helped Greenie to his feet. Peach gave Junior her blanket before she followed them out of the room, and he clambered onto the bed next to Bowser, wrapping himself in it. As the door swung closed, Bowser realized he’d prefer the Mario Bros running around his home, actually, to the look on Kamek’s face as he opened his mouth to give Bowser the scolding of a lifetime.

[s0lar-ch3ri]

a tiny ramble on luz's character: the symbolism i saw when she just stood there (spoilers obviously, for both season 2 and 3)

so i've been watching fan vids of the ending for toh and in this one reaction vid i was watching the death scene in a sense and i just had to over analyze it

for context, after belos is removed from the heart, he tries to lie again to luz and it starts to rail, the boiling water melting his human disguise. shes still in this titan form, clearly being as strong as ever, probably getting close to the level of the collector imo, and yet she doesnt do anything as he talks to her. she just stands, blank faced and doesnt move a bit (image shown below, low quality since its from the yt vid)

she just glares him down, not a word. she expresses no emotion other then annoyance, or maybe hate, and thats even just from looking at small details that we get.

yet here phillp is, giving it one last try, one more chance to trick her again. he shows a fake expressing of concern, later on worry that boils to anger and rage. unlike luz, he shows a ton of expression. hes using emotion, a very human concept, as a way to make her believe that he wasn't in the wrong, that he can be trusted, that he can be forgiven in a sense. he talks a lot, repeating with "better" words parts of sentences to show how good it is that she saved him and that wild magic is bad. however, he wasn't always this expressive. infact, the amount of emotion he shows here plays into how luz has reacted before!

i found the screenshot of when hes talking to hunter (its eclipse lake btw, around 1:15) and he seems not so smug but rather relaxed and welcoming. looking from hunter's eyes, this is really his uncle, and his uncle has always looked out for him, hasnt he (no he hasnt lol; also so do note that in hollow mind hunter does hesitiate before going through the memory with the portal door, like he'd take the eyeball monster over going through that again??? (i will be analysing him next hes just so ever))?

now heres an image of when he was talking to the collector in the mind scape. his energy is less familial and cozy but like an adult entertaining a child, he seems so smug and more like someone who you talk trash on others to. the energy he has for the people he surrounds himself with changes with who said people are. however, the amount of emotion he shows isnt excessive like the scenes with luz. even in elsewhere and elsewhen, he's shown more emotion when talking to her then with other characters.

this is how he knows her, the excitment and high energy, want to save everyone luz is how he has seen her. not to mention, he notices how lilith is getting concerned and starts talking differently. i know i keep jumping around with belos, but ill get back to luz soon!

another detail of lesser emotion with belos: we've seen him mostly wearing a mask. now, obviously the mask would hide his face and any form of emotion, but the mask noticiably has no mouth. all it shows is eye holes, lines to represent eyelids id presume, and nose holes. the mask cant show any kind of emotion at all due to the lack of detail. as such, we've only been able to tell his emotions through the tone of his voice, the way he speaks, etc. he has no need for emotion here.

from what belos has seen, luz has shown much emotion and empathy, so he plays into what he thinks is her weakness, pulling her heart strings with a fable that he believes surely she'd fall for. belos is good at manipulation because his style of how he does it changes with whoever he talks to, but one unexpected detail has stopped him now: this human has managed to change in such short time.

however, luz is very expressive even after everything, even in battle, even at the last battle. she always puts her best into whatever she does because she cares (its similar to the papyrus: blink motherfucker post basically, she always puts 110% into whatever she does). shes the main character because shes a very caring person and would never do anything to harm the innocent, making her a very good mc for the show! she speaks out against belos and his evil that one time at the night market because she wants to do the right thing for these people, because she cares for them.

she could just put him out his misery now. she could just kill belos just out of her hatred. yet she doesnt. because shed be stooping down to his level, killing someone because you simply dont like them. in this scene, belos finds sp,ethomg (ok ik ruining mood with that but the mispelling is just too funny, i meant to say something) he never expected, luz just does not care about him. she doesnt care to listen to him, doesnt care for his fate, and will not care in the end. she knows he doesnt deserve the respect of a response.

she doesnt even look at him, she doesnt have the care to now. and why should she? hes hurt many people, and tried to put her on his level of awful, comparing them as if theyre remotely similar. another thing by the way, when trying to use sympathy fails, belos switches to blame, saying how horrible shed be if she didn't help him now.

in this scene, he says "we're human, we're better then this!" with the irony of him being the least human hes ever been. this is pretty noticable, but theres more irony than just this. this is also the least human that luz the HUMAN has ever been. shes constantly been given that title, one example being eda telling luz that her life is great because "shes friends with luz the human"! yet shes harnessing the titan in her, and we see her doing things like eda and king do. and a big human thing we have? emotions and empathy. we sympathize with each other because we care and are run by our emotions, and thats a pretty key part in what makes us human. however, belos uses this against those around him, with promises of things that they desire in a sense. belos has lost any sense of humanity just to fulfill this savior complex (ill be doing more analysing so ill explain this later but no its not like a hero complex) while luz has became more humane with her journey, taking in how what she's done has affected those shes with, understanding them. luz being human is what makes her better then having to stomp him out, needing the last hit. she already did enough and doesnt need to care anymore about defeating him, because even if the rain didnt kick in and he was able to keep his human disguise, he would still lose.

tdlr: luz simply ignoring belos can be very over analysed by my neurodivergent ass, and the reasoning why is simply because when shed care once now she does not.

[pjsk-writin]

I feel like i need to write my thoughts for a while .. hope you dont mind and that it wont bother you.

So.. I dont know why but i was thinking about ships in general.. im not much of a shipper myself in the way that people come up with headcanons and stuff (its really not my thing i dont know how people does it but i find it amazing) the most i can do its just like the ship and giggle at their iconic moments and something like that i guess?

But then i was thinking about project sekai ships.. and i dont know why but- i just love every akito + vbs ships!! All the dynamics they have are so ❤ like i really dont care akitoya, akikoha or akian i love all of them!!! (I like akikoha and akitoya a little bit more but akian grew on me <3) akitoya has taken over my life :D no further explanation needed (i cried during the main story if they fight again ill uninstall the game i promise :"/) all the toya events specially walk on and on (the you are the best partner thing *dies*) and same dreams same colors!! That one is cute in general but akito was so worried for toya the while time 🤧🤧 and the nocturne interlude side stories of their cards and stray bad dog and- and their side stories in general aaaah and an ode for the pure of heart and the end of sounds of a summer festival and how he does things only for toya kahdjsbsjsjbsjsksj ❤️❤️❤️ dont get me started on their area convos!!! Akito being happy because toya is finally doing something that makes him happy (after reading sounds of a summer festival) the one where toya somewhat notices a really small tiny change on akitos hair a feels bad for not noticing properly and akito tells him to not worry about that and that he is surprised he notices something so small, the one where toya says he still has the list of songs akito gave him before starting bad dogs (at the music shop with kohane) the one where he notices toya a little down and they go for breakfast before a show (i dont remember if this one is a default area convo or if its after reading nocturne interlude) they are so ajdkdksks ❤️❤️

akikoha is so interesting and sooo cute! Like the area convo where they wait in the shadow of a building for an and toya because the wind was bothering kohane and when an and toya arrive, toya points it out and teases him and he quickly says to go to the live house alredy kajdjdksjsj and their interactions are funny and cute and- their height difference its so adorable!! And and how he recognizes her talent and determination like in toyas awakening beat/beat eater 3☆ side story!! And they even mention how he got angry about what arata said about kohane being an amateur and stuff (stray bad dog) and then toya teases him about that haha!! and the headcanons people make for them have me dying from cuteness overload they are so ajdjjajfjsju 🤧🤧

akian grew on me surprisingly, an teases him in any given chance xD Also Bout for beside you!!! They can understand each other so well and help each other, and- and they worry and care about each other sjshdjdhdjs <3 and stray bad dog when the moment of her card happens!! And her new year card OMG!! Its from akitos perspective and she looks so pretty and cute and the side story its vbs having fun but stilk worth reading (really cute <3) Also even as a 2☆ she looks so good in akito focus events cards.

Hope it wasnt a bother just felt like.. rambling? A little. (Is this correctly said? *non native english speaker problems 😞)

in this household we do not tolerate akito slander, we love akito shinonome <3 best boy FR!!!

-🦔anon

YOU ARE SOOOO REAL and i have my emotions towards ak.ty but YALL KNOW HOW I FEEEL ABOUT AKIAN !!!! but yes i support you and we heart akito sm <3

[cherienymphe]

Lies Untold (Sherlock Holmes x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, jealous!Sherlock 

!!! DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !!!

➥ {page breaks done by @firefly-graphics​ }

summary: Sherlock Holmes is the love of your life, and convinced that you will never get your happily ever after with him, you make a decision that does more harm than good

~

Your morning started like every other. You were briefly woken up by the feel of your husband’s lips on your face, his smooth voice greeting you before moving onto your daughter in her crib. You drifted back to sleep just as he shut the door, making his way downstairs to open up the inn for the day. When you woke up for the final time, it felt like hours later, but in reality, it could have only been minutes.

You breastfed your daughter almost immediately after you woke up, the two of you somehow always waking up together. You went downstairs for breakfast as soon as she was fast asleep again, greeting your husband with a kiss as you met in the kitchen. The day went by slow, the last guest leaving the inn sometime in the early evening. It was late in the night, almost time for you to retire when the bell above the door rang.

A guest had arrived.

Your husband was on the third floor where you all resided, tending to your daughter no doubt while you manned the first floor. You were fooling with something behind the counter, head bent down as their heavy steps reached your ears.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment,” you told them.

They did not reply, but you knew they heard you. You rose, straightening your dress as you lifted your eyes to greet the only guest for the night. As soon as your eyes met a familiar blue, you froze, feeling as if you had been struck by lightning.

He looked the same as ever. Perhaps even more handsome now, and you cursed yourself for thinking such a thought when your husband was just upstairs. He looked just as stunned to see you, reaching up to adjust his dark suit as he cleared his throat. His hair was a bit longer since the last time you saw him, an errant curl hanging onto his forehead, and you suddenly realized that you had been holding your breath.

“Mr. Holmes,” you breathed, chest burning a bit from the lack of oxygen. “Just you?”

He made a noise that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a scoff, lips quirking upwards.

“Mr. Holmes?”

You swallowed, uncomfortably shifting on your feet. He stepped up to the counter, that teasing smile on his pink lips, one you did not return.

“A little formal for old friends, is it not?”

Your shoulders sagged as you released a small sigh.

“No, you…you are right. It’s just been a while since I’ve last seen you,” you told him. “I was caught off guard.”

It was the truth. Honestly, you had hoped to never see Sherlock again. Not if you could help it.

“So, you run an inn now…”

You briefly glanced at him as you searched for a key, nodding.

“I do.”

“I had not realized. The name…it was unfamiliar to me,” he said.

Your hand tightened around the key, and you avoided his eye, heart beating wildly in your chest.

“It’s my husband’s name,” you murmured.

You swore that you could hear his breath hitch, and it seemed to get unbelievably quiet. Against your better judgement, you looked to him, finding his blue eyes just a tad darker. His face always looked pinched, like he was constantly overthinking, but this was more than that. He looked positively floored. Were you the first person to have thrown the great Sherlock Holmes for a loop? Had circumstances been different, you would have felt proud.

Before either of you could say anything else, your husband’s footsteps on the stairs reached your ears. You turned to him with a strained smile just as he neared, and he placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Mr. Holmes,” your husband greeted jovially. “What a pleasure! Will it be just you then?”

“Indeed,” the dark-haired man hummed, and although you were no longer looking at him, you could feel his eyes on you.

“The last guest checked out hours ago, so the whole inn will be nice and quiet for whatever work you need to do. That is, provided our daughter sleeps through the night,” he jested.

Your eyes widened, having had no intentions of mentioning that to your guest…ever. You did not dare look at him and overwhelmed with the emotions that seeing him brought on, you clutched your stomach, feigning sick as you stepped back.

“I’ve grown a bit weary. I think I will call it a night,” you told your husband.

His face twisted with concern, and you felt a tad guilty, but your uneasiness from Sherlock’s hard stare was more pressing. Your husband, the sweetheart that he was, placed a hand on your back as he ushered you towards the stairs.

“Of course, dear. You only had the baby months ago, you should not be up on your feet so much, anyway,” he quietly told you, sending you off with a kiss on the cheek.

You slowly took the stairs, hearing him continue his conversation with the man you had hoped to never see again. Your legs shook with every step, and the more you blinked, the faster the tears collected in your eyes. Despite the fact that your husband had yet to cease his rambling, you could still feel Sherlock’s gaze on your back as hot as it always was. As it always had been.

Relief did not find you even all the way up on the third floor. You pressed your back to the door as soon as you made it to your bedroom, and you swallowed hard, fighting to hold in a scream. You had forced yourself to make peace with the everything, with your own decisions. You never thought that you would be able to, but you did, and right when you seemed to be okay, the man who had caused it all slithered back into your life, his presence mocking you.

A soft gurgle from the crib reached your ears, and you pushed yourself away from the door, reminding yourself that it was not just you anymore. Her face was twisted in discomfort, features only smoothing out when you took her into your arms. The mattress creaked under your weight as you sat down, making yourself comfortable with your back to the headboard. Your knees were bent, your daughter resting against your legs as you both stared at one another. Her tiny hand wrapped around your finger, and your heart clenched as you stared into her eyes, a familiar shade of blue staring back at you.

You avoided leaving your room as much as you could. Your husband was the one who mostly dealt with the inn anyway, but you had enjoyed greeting and interacting with the guests. Until recently. Oddly enough, Sherlock was your only guest for the next two days, and you wondered if you were cursed. There were no other guests to tend to, no other guests to distract you, and you could not feign ill forever. You regularly interacted with the guests, and your husband would start to find your behavior odd.

You had genuinely thought you’d never see the famous detective again. You had fought to marry someone as far away from your hometown as you possibly could, determined to distance yourself as much as you could from the place you had both grown up in. Not only to avoid ever seeing him again, but also because it was far too painful. How funny it was to think that if you had stayed, you probably would have achieved what you set out to do.

It was the third day since he had checked into the inn, and unable to sleep in the early hours of the morning, you opted for getting an early start on breakfast. Your husband and daughter were still fast asleep, and perhaps you could be done before your only guest arose. You had no idea what case he was in town for. You had made it a habit to avoid the papers, and perhaps that was why you had been blindsided by his sudden appearance.

You had only been in the kitchen for a matter of minutes when the subject of your thoughts joined you.

You paused in what you were doing, not expecting him while he, on the other hand, seemed to have been waiting up for you. He was dressed as nicely as always, and that pensive look that he always seemed to sport was replaced by a troubled one. You watched as his hand flexed, and you were reminded how they had felt on you once. Forcing those thoughts from your mind, you gathered yourself.

“Mr. Holmes,” you greeted. “Breakfast will be a while.”

You both knew that he had not come down for food, but you turned away from him anyway to continue your work. It was quiet for a while as he stood there, watching you work. He was making you nervous, like always, and it was only when you realized that you were making no progress did he finally speak.

“You are married now.”

You paused, swallowing with a heavy chest. It was not a question. Not even really a statement, but more like an accusation. With a heavy sigh, you turned your head, barely looking over your shoulder at him as you rested your hands on the table.

“Did you think I was going to wait for you forever?”

You were met with silence, and you shook your head.

“You knew how I felt about you,” you said, kneading the dough. “How I felt since we were mere children. A woman does not have the luxury of keeping her options open. Decisions had to be made.”

You heard him step closer, and you visibly winced, shoulders tensing up.

“Do you love him?”

You frowned, spinning around to face him, chest clenching as your insides twisted.

“What kind of question is that?”

“One you have yet to answer,” he murmured, taking another step towards you.

You scoffed.

“My husband is kind and selfless and he is positively crazy about me. I would be silly not to love him,” you replied.

The blue-eyed man before you threw you a crooked smile, but it lacked humor.

“You still did not answer the question.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked away.

“What does it matter to you?”

“He says the two of you have been married for a year. The last time I saw you was a little over a year ago... How quickly you-.”

“You do not get to do that, Sherlock Holmes,” you snapped, fighting to keep your voice low.

You cursed yourself for the way your voice cracked, and you frantically blinked away tears. You stumbled back when he took another step towards you, bumping into the table in the process.

“I did nothing but wait around for you for years while you ran off solving case after case and made a name for yourself. I never faulted you for that…just myself for being so incredibly stupid…”

Your eyes met his again, surprised to see anger in them because you could not remember a time the man had ever been angry. It was alright with you though. You were angry too.

“I never once hid my feelings for you…and it got to a point where I could no longer wait for you to do something about it. Something legitimate anyway,” you quietly added.

Having grown up with the man, it was hard not to fall for his intellect, his looks. He was always polite to you, and you always looked at him like he hung the moon. You were not the only one though. You knew that you were one of the many. Your feelings for him had never been a secret, and his lack of reciprocity led you to believe that your love for the man would always be unrequited just like all the other girls. Until it wasn’t.

You could never pinpoint when it had happened, but he had kissed you one day, and it seemed that he could never bring himself to stop kissing you. Until of course, he had to leave again, leaving you behind to wait for his return…whenever that would be. For years this spanned. Spending days, weeks at the most, with him, wrapped up in each other both figuratively and literally until his profession pulled him away from you again and again. It broke your heart every time, but you told yourself that it would not be for naught. You told yourself that he just needed time.

You constantly told yourself that until the day you were out of time.

“Does he know?”

Some of the hardness in his eyes had seeped away, giving way to a fire that you knew all too well. With the table at the back of your legs, you realized that you had nowhere to go as he neared you. The man was always so big, and while you had appreciated that once, it only worried you now. He continued when you refused to respond.

“Does he know that you were mine before he even laid eyes on you?”

Your frown deepened, hating the way he talked about you, but you could not deny the way his words spoke to a part of you that you had tried so hard to bury.

“Does he know that you will always bear the mark of my touch? That your body will always remember the first who played it so well?”

“Stop,” you choked out. “You…you cannot do this.”

It was painful to hear him talk about how he had been your first. How you had given yourself to him wholeheartedly, sure that you would never regret it.

“Why not? Why can I not remind you that you are mine? That you will always be mine?”

He sounded pained, a first for him, and you realized that deep down past the possession and anger…Sherlock was hurt. Maybe all he really needed was time, but life had happened, and you had been forced to make decisions that you did not necessarily care for. Straightening yourself, you stared into his eyes, finding the reflection of you in them.

“…because I am not yours. Not anymore.”

You brushed past him before he could respond, determined to wipe your face and gather yourself before your husband woke up.

Another day passed, and then another, and Sherlock was still here. You had a sneaking suspicion that he was hanging around for more than just another case to solve. Your husband, none the wiser, was more than happy to entertain the renowned detective for as long as he needed. You, on the other hand, felt like you had died and gone straight to hell.

Sherlock’s presence brought up memories you would rather forget. His very face forced you to remember the decisions you had made to avoid a life of ruin, forced you to remember the lie you were currently living. You found yourself crying yourself to sleep now as much as you did in the beginning, and for that, you hated him. You just wanted him to leave and pray that you would never see him again.

The universe or God or whatever higher power controlled the puppet strings to your life had other plans.

It was late in the night when your daughter woke up out of her sleep. Your husband groaned next to you, but you whispered to him that you would deal with it. She did not seem to be hungry, so you took to walking throughout the inn to calm her. She liked that. You strolled up and down the stairs, through the entrance hall, the kitchen, any crevice of the building until she fell into a quiet hush, staring up at you as you hummed.

You were in the sitting room, swaying from side to side, hoping to rock her back to sleep. You loved her dearly, more than you loved yourself, but you loved your sleep almost as much. You cracked a small smile, watching as she ran her eyes over you before something behind you caught her attention. You felt him before you heard him, and you spun around to face the last person you wished to see.

His white shirt was rumpled, and you figured that he had inadvertently fallen asleep at some point. Your wide eyes were on him as he stood before you in all of his glory, and you absentmindedly tightened your hold on your daughter. Neither one of you said a word. You had nothing to say, but there did seem to be something weighing on his mind, although for some reason, he would not voice it. You found yourself eyeing the curls of his hair, his fair complexion and handsome bone structure. The top of his shirt was undone, a sliver of skin winking at you, and you sharply inhaled.

You were still very much in love with Sherlock Holmes.

Would you ever truly be free of him?

As your daughter squirmed in your arms, you were reminded that no, you would not. The man could leave tomorrow, and you could truly get your wish of never seeing him again, and you would still never be free. Her movements grabbed his attention, and as his eyes fell to the baby in your arms, you hated the way he looked at her.

As if he was studying her like one of his cases that needed to be solved.

However, with horror, you realized that he was studying her. You tried to shield her, backing away in the process, but he followed you. His dark brows furrowed, eyes narrowing as he ran them over your daughter. When you passed through the moonlight, the glow catching her eyes, his face hardened, jaw ticking so violently you worried that he would break a tooth.

His eyes snapped to yours, and you could not even find it in yourself to look away. You were frozen. His lips parted, and you feared what he would say, but the sound of your husband’s steps descending the stairs saved you. In only a moment, Sherlock was on the other side of the room, and your husband was there, apologizing to the man if your daughter woke him up.

“Nonsense. I was already awake,” Sherlock told him, and you had a feeling that it was not a lie.

Still, your husband, the kind man that he was, continued to apologize, and you took the opportunity to escape. You could feel Sherlock’s gaze the entire time, fiery and oppressive, and it should not have come as a shock to wake up to him in your bedroom.

Yet somehow, it was.

You should have known something was off when you woke up feeling more well rested than you had in months. The familiar cry of your daughter, a noise that regularly roused you from sleep, was oddly absent. This was what made you realize why you had slept for so long. Upon realizing this, your body immediately filled with worry, and you sat up like the house was on fire.

However, you were not prepared for the hulking frame that was Sherlock Holmes to greet you. He stood by your daughter’s crib, and your heart dropped to your stomach as you slowly slid to the edge of the bed. You shakily reached for him, his name on your lips, and he turned around. You sharply inhaled at the sight of your daughter in his arms, the small thing looking so much smaller while being held in his bands of muscle.

“Give her to me…please,” you whispered.

You did not know why you wanted him away from her. He knew the truth, and as if reading your thoughts, he said:

“Why? Is it not within my rights to hold her? She is mine…is she not?”

His voice was venomous, eyes icy as he looked to you, and you flinched. You settled back down on the bed, shrinking in on yourself as he glared at you. You did not know what to say. What could you say? In the light of day, it was obvious more than ever who her true father was. Why on earth were you feeling guilty? You had no reason to.

“Does he know?” he suddenly asked you, voice low and softer now.

“Of course not,” you tearfully replied.

You hated lying to your husband, but choices had to be made to protect her, to give her a good life. Sherlock heaved a shaky sigh, and you twisted your hands into your nightdress.

“Where is he?”

“He’s gone to town…said he needed to get some things for the inn,” he answered.

You were somehow simultaneously relieved and terrified.

“Sherlock-.”

“So, this is why you married him,” he bitterly said. “This is why you rushed to take his name and forget me so easily.”

“You have no right,” you sneered, standing and rushing towards him.

He moved back, keeping her away from you, and you were tempted to stomp your foot like a child.

“You kept her from me,” he accused, blue eyes boring into your own, and your skin prickled under his cold stare.

“I would not expect you to understand,” you told him.

His handsome face twisted into something ugly, and he stepped towards you.

“Why did you not tell me?”

You sneered at him.

“When was I supposed to do that? I would see you what…3, maybe 4 times a year if I was lucky?”

“You could have written to me!”

She squirmed in his arms, making a noise of protest, and you reached out, shushing her, but again, he held her out of your reach. You clenched your hands into fists, chest aching as he forced you to talk about what you had done.

“…and how was I to find you? How was I to know you would receive my letter in time? You were gallivanting all over the country, Sherlock. I would have been showing by the time I waited for you to turn up.”

He at least had the decency to look a tad sheepish, and he glanced down at the baby in his arms.

“Of course, you do not get it. You are not a woman. I did not have time or options. Decisions had to be made for both me and my daughter’s sake, and unfortunately, they had to be made without you.”

He did not respond, and you watched the way he looked at her. When you had first found out, this was everything you had wanted. You had dreamed of him looking at her just like that, but then reality had set in and crushed those dreams. Reluctantly, he handed her back to you, and you pressed your lips to her forehead. You felt his large hand on the top of your head, and when you looked up, his eyes were on you.

“Leave with me,” he whispered.

Pain etched across your features, and you shook your head.

“I cannot.”

“Yes, you can. She is mine, not his, and you love me…not him.”

You did not acknowledge the fact that he saw right through you no matter how much you pretended otherwise. Again, you shook your head and backed away from him.

“I cannot do that to him. He is a good man, and he does not deserve that,” you told him.

Sherlock stepped towards you until his body heat was all you could feel, and you looked down, avoiding his eye.

“So, am I to leave? Never to see you again and just allow him to raise my daughter as his own? Forget about you?”

“Yes.”

You regretted it almost as soon as you said it, but what else could you do? Running away with him was not an option. People would talk. Ruin would follow your name, and anything between you and the man before you would not be legitimate. You had to think of your daughter first. Before he could say anything else, the sound of the front door opening reached your ears, and your wide eyes found his.

You did not say anything, but you silently begged him to do what you wanted. Sherlock looked as if he wanted to do the complete opposite of what you wanted, face troubled and brows furrowed, but eventually, he relented. Reluctantly, he stepped back and exited your room, slipping downstairs and into his own.

Sherlock stayed at your inn for a little over a week, only 2 other guests passing through in that time. When your husband was gone, you allowed him to hold your daughter, and you had no idea how much you would be affected by the sight of the burly man holding the doll sized child in his arms. You knew that it got harder and harder for him to hand her back to you, and you worried what would happen when it came time for him to leave.

She was currently with him now while you cleaned one of the rooms that a guest had stayed in. Your husband had gone to get ingredients for the kitchen, and you were relieved to be alone with your thoughts. Not once had you ever regretted your decisions, but now you were having second thoughts. You would love for your daughter to grow up with her real father in her life, but it just would not be possible. There were so many things that you wanted that were no longer possible. It was bittersweet, sure, but you were glad that Sherlock got to know her for a short time versus having never known her at all.

You had just stripped the bed, turning to get more sheets when you were startled by the man himself in the doorway. You pressed your hand to your chest, fighting to slow your heart as you curiously looked at him. Your brows furrowed as you looked for your daughter.

“She’s asleep,” he said, answering your silent question.

“Oh,” you responded, relieved. “Is something wrong?”

He pursed his lips, stepping into the room, and you blinked at him.

“I cannot do it,” he suddenly said, shaking his head.

Dread settled in your gut, but you pressed him for the answers that you already knew.

“What do you mean…?”

He neared you, and you leaned back a bit at his close proximity.

“You cannot ask this of me-.”

“Sherlock-.”

“I will not do it. I will not just walk away!”

“You have to-!”

“That is my daughter. That is our daughter. You expect me to just go on and pretend that she does not exist?”

You looked away from him, overwhelmed with panic as he wrapped his hands around your arms.

“You both will leave with me,” he whispered. “I will right my wrongs-.”

“I cannot-.”

“I do not care about him. He is nothing to me,” he sneered. “He is the man who has laid claim to something that does not belong to him.”

“I am not yours anymore!”

You both stared each other down, and you frowned when he pushed you back until you felt the wall behind you. His eyes were wild with so many emotions. Anger, pain, desperation, jealousy, and the one that was a constant when he was with you, hunger.

“You will always be mine,” he murmured, leaning in.

You turned your head away, and his lips met your cheek.

“You surrendered your body to me, and it has been mine ever since. I was the first to touch you…and I shall be the last.”

His lips found yours against your will, and with his hands on your arms, you could not push him away. You had forgotten what his lips felt like, what he tasted like, but none of that mattered because you were a married woman now. Sherlock was your past and that was where he needed to remain. You opened your mouth to tell him that, to protest, but he merely took the opportunity to reacquaint himself with the taste of your tongue.

He released you only to press his hands onto your hips, and you pushed against his chest. His moan told you that it had no effect, and your panic grew when he stepped back, pulling you with him. His hands were everywhere as you fought against him, and although your mind protested what was happening, your body, having been accustomed to his euphoric touch for so long, melted under the familiar ministrations.

He had you on your back in no time, tearing your dress off of you with ease. Your pleas fell on deaf ears, the man before you equal to that of a man starved, and his eyes and mouth and hands had one goal in mind and that was to get inside of you in any way possible.

“We cannot do this,” you gasped the minute he pulled away, but it was as if he did not hear you. “Sherlock!”

Your efforts to get him off of you only increased when you realized that he was almost as naked as you were. His lips tasted your neck and chest, and you sharply yelped when his teeth nipped at you.

“I have half a mind to mark your skin as you have marked my soul,” he whispered. “…to show that husband of yours what it truly means to claim you.”

You pressed your nails into his chest when he slid inside of you, hips meeting yours in a way that you had not felt for over a year. A satisfied moan left him, and you could not stop the way you clenched around his length, your body missing the feel of him. Still, you pushed against him, shaking your head with tear-filled eyes as he began to move. The next time you opened your mouth to protest, a choked moan came out instead, and you sunk your teeth into your lip.

“Feel the way you cling to me…the way your body loosens up to what it knows so well.”

He was right. He knew how to play your body like an instrument, knowing exactly what to do to make you sing, but that did not make it right. Your hands pushing against his shoulders and chest were of no use, and so you resorted to begging.

“Please…stop,” you pleaded in between breaths, but he merely shook his head.

“No,” he plainly said, hands greedily pressing into some of the baby weight that remained. “I have gone without you for far too long, and that is a mistake I will never make again.”

Your body was on fire from his thrusts, and you were hardly coherent enough o be having this conversation.

“You cannot just…you cannot just steal us away-.”

“I cannot steal what is rightfully mine,” he purred, wrapping his lips around a hardened bud.

Your lashes fluttered, and you dug your nails into his skin, pushing against him, but again, he was immoveable. Your vision was blurry from your tears now, and you squeezed your eyes shut when he completely fell over you, arms pressed into the bed beside your head, caging you in until all you could see and smell was him.

You reminded of your first time. It had been nighttime then, and he had ordered you to relax and take what pleasure he bestowed upon you. He had taken his time to figure out what your body liked and what your body loved, but he had been completely in control. Now seemed no different. Sherlock was once again completely in control of your body, forcing you to accept whatever pleasure he pushed onto you.

Someone could have entered the inn, looking for a place to stay, and you would not have known. Your husband could have long returned, and you would be none the wiser. He kissed you, a gentle action that was a far cry from his powerful thrusts, and you could taste your tears on his lips.

“I would have come running,” he suddenly whispered into your mouth. “The second I found out, I would have come for you.”

His eyes flitted between your terrified ones, and he continued.

“I would have made an honest woman out of you. I would have been by your side every step of the way.”

You shook your head, not wanting to hear what could have been.

“I would have loved to see you round and swollen with my daughter, but this is our second chance.”

You came around him before he soon followed, coating your insides with a groan, lips furiously covering your own. You were so conflicted. Your body felt more satisfied than it had been in a year, heart swelling at the thought of getting the future you really wanted, but you were so angry with him, angry with what he had just done to you.

You hit at him the minute he pulled out of you, sitting up and taking you with him. It was as if your hits did not phase him at all, and he merely shushed you, wrapping his arms around you as he pulled you into his chest.

“I will do the talking,” he started, pressing his lips into your hair, ignoring the way you cried and shook in his hold. “I will explain to him that I am taking back what is mine, and I will walk out of here with you and our daughter at my side, right where you belong.”

     ~

tags:  @darkficreposter​​​ @xoxabs88xox​​​ @harryspet​​​ @readermia​​​ @opheliadawnwalker3​​ @nickyl316h​​​ @captainchrisstan​​​ @sebabestianstan101​​​ @villanellevi​​​ @lokislastlove​​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​​ @coconutqueen21​​​ @hurricanerin​​ @trinittyy​​ @hyoyeoniie​​ @kellyn1604​​ @sherrybaby14​​ @cocoamoonmalfoy​ @mandiiblanche​ @gotnofucks​ @oneoftheprettynerds​ @doozywoozy​ @sapphirescrolls​ @threeminutesoflife​ @searchforanotherway​

[noyaism]

No Manners

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: enemies/rivals to lovers, public sex, hate sex, heavy degrading, edging, choking, overstim, teasing, size kink, power dynamics, sir!Tsukki, dacryphilia, humiliation, spanking, slapping, exhibitionism, sadism, masochism, dumbification, creampie, this shit is pure filth (let me know if I missed any warnings!)

Song Inspo: No Manners - Superm

If there was anything you prided yourself on, it was being the smartest person in any given room you walked into. School had always come so easily to you, no subject too hard, no concept you wouldn't understand. That was, until you got to college. University was a beast unto its own, and it showed you that maybe the genius you had always believed you possessed could indeed be threatened. 

While you found yourself at the top at almost every single class you took, your economics class was your Achilles heel. It irked you how the information just didn’t seem to mesh with you. It made you feel so inferior, and that wasn’t something you were used to. It also wasn’t something Tsukishima Kei was used to, however, thanks to you he was feeling a new sense of inferiority that was completely foreign to him. He, like you, was used to being at the top of his class, nobody coming close to him academically. Then, he got to university, and unfortunately for him you two shared a major, and took the exact same classes. It was odd enough in the first semester, and when it ended he was so glad to finally get away from you, and to regain his status.

Then the second semester came and once again, you both signed up for the exact same classes. This time was different, though, because finally, Tsukishima held something over you; you couldn’t understand economics to save your life, and it came to Tsukishima as easily as everything else did. 

Understandably, the two of you had developed a bit of a rivalry. It would come around every so often that Tsukki did better than you on a test, scored higher in a lab, and it drove you insane how he would rub it in, so when you did better than him, you did the same. The two of you were starting to hate each other’s guts. However, you were on the verge of failing your economics class, and there wasn’t going to be anyone better to help you study than Tsukishima. When you asked him to help you study he straight up laughed in your face, entertained by the fact you were actually coming to him for help. It was such a stroke to his ego, he couldn’t possibly say no. 

You two scheduled a study session for the following Friday evening. You met in one of the study rooms up on the third floor around five, intending to stay for a couple hours. Tsukishima had arrived a little early, as you walked in you saw him with his notebook and laptop out on the table, writing down some notes. You took a seat next to him, getting yourself ready to begin. As he attempted to explain all these concepts to you; rambling on about monopolies and price ceilings and deficits, none of it was clicking. You asked him to explain things time and time again, and he was getting visibly irritated the more you seemed to not be getting things.

“You agreed to help me study, Tsukishima. You can't go on and complain now that I don’t get it, you knew I didn't.”

“Yeah, I got that part, but I wasn’t expecting you to be this utterly dense.” 

You folded your arms across your chest, letting out a small huff under your breath.

“You're such a dick.” You muttered, not thinking much of the remark. It was an unequivocal fact that anyone who ever came in contact with him had to know, which you yourself already knew quite well, but you hadn't expected him to be this bad personally. You thought since you were undoubtedly better at him in any other subject you would at least be spared of his ill mannered remarks, but it seemed to be the opposite; he'd get on you because you were so much better at him in everything else. It was the one thing he held over you, and he was going to make the absolute most of it. 

“What did you call me?” He asked, snapping his head in your direction. 

“I called you a dick, because you are. I get it, okay? I don’t understand the material, it’s above my intelligence level, I’m the dumbest bitch in the world. Cool, fine, awesome. If tutoring me is that much of a pain I’ll just go, alright? Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Utterly fed up, you tossed all of your things into your backpack and got up from your seat, starting to storm away. Tsukishima watched you as you went for the door, only momentarily, before getting up and following behind you. You barely got the door unlocked and open before a forceful push of a hand from above shut it, and you turned and looked up at the man, confused as to what it was he was doing.

“We aren’t done studying.”

“Yes we are. I can’t take your shit anymore, I’m done.”

“No, we’re gonna stay here and work on this until you get it,” He lowered himself down to make more direct eye contact with you.

“Got me?” He finished, once the two of you were level. You let out a chuckle, shaking your head a bit. This situation was unbelievable, and he was totally impossible. You weren’t sure how much clearer you could possibly get, but you had no problem reiterating yourself.

“No, I don’t. Makes sense that I don’t, right? ‘Cuz I’m ‘utterly dense’, as you said.”

“And incredibly mouthy, apparently.”

“Only when dealing with assholes like you.” Tsukishima let out a chuckle of his own after that line, straightening himself up and looking down on you once again. You hated when he did that, but it wasn’t like he had much choice, he towered over your much smaller frame. It personified your current situation almost too well. 

“You know, someone should put little girls like you in their place.” He fairly quickly retorted.

“And someone should knock tall elitists like you down a peg.” You scoffed. 

“I’d love to see you try.” Tsukishima took a couple steps back from you after speaking, as if to quite literally challenge you to do something. You weren’t a violent person to say the least, but at that moment you would’ve paid good money to punch the man before you in the face, and it seemed you were going to get the opportunity for free. How could you possibly pass that up?

You dropped your backpack onto the floor, lurching forward at Tsukishima before it even hit the floor. To your utter surprise he caught you before you got too close, his hand wrapped around your neck. It was nowhere near a tight grip, but it left you breathless, and forced you to look up at the blonde. There was this smirk on his face, like you had done exactly what he wanted you to, like he now had you in the palm of his hand. The look in his eye was so devilish, nobody had ever looked at you like that. You almost didn’t know what to make of it, almost.

“Now now, dumb little whores like you don’t get to touch me.” The pure filth that fell from his lips confirmed exactly what you rationalized from his gaze. It was all you needed.

“Fuck me, now.”

Tsukishima needed no further instruction, moving his hand off your throat and down to your thigh, pulling your leg up and prompting you to wrap yourself around him. He caught you midway through your small jump, and in an instant your lips crashed together. You couldn’t shake just how angry he made you, and he couldn’t shake how sexy you looked when you were mad. That little body of yours held so much aggression in it, and since he was more than willing to let out the beast in you, Tsukki was just as willing to tame it.

In fact, he would take great pleasure in doing so.

Tsukki walked back over to the table you two were sat at, placing you down onto the cold, manicured wood. The exchange of your lips was filled to the brim in the most carnal, lustful intent. The two of you fought for dominance with it, neither of you having even the slightest intention of backing down. Tsukishima was already more than frustrated with you, and your attempts to gain control of the situation weren't helping. 

With a swift move he pulled away from the kiss and brought a hand around your neck once again, this time giving it a fairly decent grip. His face looked so calm, like this was nothing he hadn't done before, but his actions told a completely different story. How he managed to keep his expression so composed while taking full control of you made a shiver run down your spine, and the heat between your thighs grow exponentially. 

“Listen; I’m the one in charge here, y/n. What makes you think a tiny, powerless slut like you could ever even attempt to control someone so much bigger, so much stronger than them, hm?” 

“I-I dunno…” You stuttered out, much to Tsukishima’s liking. 

“You don’t know, that's exactly what I thought. Well then, let me teach you where your place is.” While his left hand maintained its place around your throat, his right hand snaked up your thigh and under your skirt, his fingers ghosting over your clothed sex. The faint contact made you whine, you couldn't stand how badly you needed him to touch you. Your eyes pleaded for him to do something, and he basked in the glory of making you so weak so quickly. He then obliged, rubbing small, slow circles onto your clit.

“Your place is right here; being dominated by me. You will feel pleasure only when I allow you to. You will cum only when I allow you to. You will be obedient, and you’ll love every second of it. Am I understood?” 

You nodded your head with what free range of motion you had, your hips bucking in the direction of his fingers, trying to gain more pleasure in the only way you currently could. 

“Use your words, and address me only as sir.” He instructed, moving his fingers away from you. It was bad enough his moves were teasing at best, but denying you of any contact completely was infinitely worse.

“Yes, sir. I understand.” 

Tsukishima let go of your throat, using both hands to undress you, leaving you in nothing but your panties, which were horribly stained with your eagerness. It stroked his ego immensely, looking at the girl who plagued his mind, who made him feel so inferior so many times, naked in front of him, so ready to be ravaged by him. So exposed, so pathetic, but so undeniably sexy. 

He pulled up a chair, taking a seat in between your legs. His fingers danced over the skin of your inner thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You felt so needy all you could do was whine, not a single beg or plead coming from you. He hooked a finger onto the side of your panties, pulling them over to get a good look at you. Your pussy glistened under the fluorescent lights, coated in wetness you had never experienced before. It was like a work of art for Tsukki, who took a minute to admire the piece before he pulled your underwear off of you entirely. 

He took his left thumb and ran it down the length of your sex, dipping between your folds before coming back up to your clit, finally starting to please you again. A moan slipped from between your lips, filling the quiet of the room. Tsukishima brought two fingers from his opposite hand up to your lips, and without needing instruction you allowed them entry. Your tongue swirled around his digits, a slight hum ringing from your throat as your oral fixation was satisfied. 

His fingers left your mouth with a small pop, and they were brought down to your core. They prodded at your entrance, teasing you by the anticipation of entry. You wanted it, wanted it so bad it was much more a need, and at that point you weren’t too proud to beg for it. Just as your lips parted Tsukishima pushed them into you, a whine coming from you instead. You fell back onto the table, your back arching off the wood as his fingers worked wonders unknown on you. With an upward curl he brushed up against your g-spot, your hips bucking upward in response. The pads of his fingers massaged the rough patch of flesh momentarily, making your legs shake as helpless little curses fell from your lips.

As he began pumping his fingers again he also sped up the rate at which his thumb circled your clit, and it became quite clear to Tsukki that your orgasm was approaching, and was doing so fast. You could feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, it was almost unbearable. You heard his voice say something, but your head was spinning you could barely make it out.

“Answer me, slut. I’m not repeating myself.” Was all you could make out, but considering you didn’t know the question, it was an impossible feat. Just as your orgasm was about to arrive Tsukishima removed his fingers from you, his thumb ceased all movement, and you were left with a ruined orgasm and your hips bucking into the air.

“You’re not cumming until you can answer one of my questions correctly. That should be good enough incentive for a stupid, needy little bitch like you, right?” You propped yourself up on your arms, looking at Tsukishima in utter bewilderment. You couldn’t believe what he was saying, or that he was going to make you answer questions in order to cum, but you had to admit he wasn’t wrong. It was a pretty good incentive.

“Y-yes sir.” 

With a quick smirk Tsukki sank his head down between your thighs, his tongue dipping into your pussy, savoring your delectably sweet taste. His his hands held the backs of your thighs, giving himself unrestricted access to your sex. His tongue flicked over your clit every so often before lapping up your juices again, until he finally gave the bud uninterrupted attention. His lips latched around it, starting to suck as his fingers entered you once more. Your back arched sharply, and your hands moved to tangle into his hair, tugging on the blonde strands. Before you could even process what it was you had done, Tsukishima was hovering above you, slapping your cheek before taking a rough hold of your chin.

“I told you not to touch me, did I not?” You nodded your head frantically,

“You d-did, sir. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you will be. Off the table.” 

You followed your instructions, and as soon as your feet hit the ground Tsukishima pulled you onto your knees, and held your chin in his hand once again, forcing you to look up at him.

“I don't think I need to tell you what to do here, do I?” You shook your head lightly, your eyes full of wonder as you looked at him. 

“No, sir.”

“Good, then show me that you're actually good at something.”

You shimmied in between Tsukishima’s legs, frantic hands fiddling with his belt as you tried to get his pants off as quickly as possible. You didn't know what was causing you to be so eager, but something in you urged you to act as quickly as possible. As you pulled his pants and boxers down his erection sprang free, the pure size of him catching you off guard. You were no inexperienced woman, this wasn't your first time seeing a penis, but you had yet to deal with anyone of his size. It was a bit intimidating, if you were to be completely honest. 

As you were told, you weren't allowed to actually touch him. You presumed if you used your hands at all it wasn't going to end well for you, but to that you could fairly easily oldige. You licked a long stripe from the base of his length up to his tip, your tongue pressing along a vein that ran that same course. You circled his tip before sucking on it, letting out a satisfied moan around him as his precum leaked out onto your tastebuds. 

You started to take him further into your mouth, each bob of your head adding another inch until you had all of him. Your eyes watered as you felt him in the back of your throat, and you gasped as you came up for air. Tsukishima looked down at you, smirking as he saw a tear run down your cheek.

“You should do more of that.”

“More of what?” You asked, tilting your head in confusion.

“Crying for me.” 

Tsukki took hold of your hair, forcing his cock into your mouth and once again making you take the entirety of him. He held you there, letting out a groan as you choked around him. He brought you up for air and marveled at the tears running down your face, and the desperate look in your eyes. It was art for him and him alone to scrutinize, and he was most certainly a fan of the piece. Before you could fully focus your attention he was in your mouth again, his hips pushing up off the chair as he fucked your face. You gagged around his length, the sounds remarkably gratifying for Tsukishima to hear. 

He brought you back up for air one final time, holding your head up so the two of you made eye contact. He chuckled at you, admiring your current state. Spit dribbled from the sides of your mouth, tears spilled out of your eyes, and you were perilously trying to catch your breath.

“Messy little girl. You're looking more and more like the stupid little slut I've always known you are. Cmon, say it for me, tell me you're a stupid little slut.” 

As if his words weren't degrading enough, this request was surely the icing on the cake, the cherry on top of the sundae. He had you exactly where he wanted you, powerless and obedient. Just a small little toy for him to play with how he pleased. He wasn't satisfied with your lack of obedience, and slapped your cheek once again, roughly grabbing your face after.

“I wasn't giving you an option. Say it.” He demanded.

“I-I’m a stupid little slut.” You complied, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I can't fucking hear you.”

“I’m a stupid little slut!” You repeated, much louder this time. Tsukishima let out a satisfied chuckle, nodding his head. 

“That's right, and who's stupid little slut are you?” 

“Y-your stupid little slut, sir.”

“That’s right.”

Tsukishima pulled you up off the floor, laying you out on the table. He pulled his shirt off, your eyes combing over every little detail of him. You knew on top of being a student he played volleyball, so he had to be fairly muscular, but you weren't expecting what you got. He had a body even Odysseus would be jealous of, making you the ever loyal Penelope.

Tsukki lubed himself up with your wetness, as you were far from falling short of it. No man was ever this rough with you, ever this dominant. It turned you on more than you would like to admit, but there was no need to with Tsukishima. He could tell from the look in your eyes, the tone of your voice, the way your hips slightly bucked as you sucked him off. 

Without warning his tip began to prod at your entrance before starting to slip in. It was no easy feat, though. You were incredibly tight, and even then you hadn't taken anything even close to Tsukishima’s size. He took things slow, watching as every inch of him stretched you further. You whimpered at the sensation, it was intoxicating beyond what your words could even describe. A groan slipped between his lips as he bottomed out, light curses following it. The way you tightened around him made it so hard for him to control himself, but he knew you needed a moment, and he wasn't trying to hurt you.

Not at the moment, at least.

You nodded your head lightly as you felt adjusted, giving him free reign over your body once again. Tsukki grabbed your hands, pinning them above your head before he began to move. He slowly started to pull out, and with a sudden snap you were once again taking all of him, a soft scream coming from you. He did this a couple times, watching how your body jolted. Feeling how your thighs tensed up next to him. Each of these thrusts hit your cervix, sending you reeling each time. 

He picked up the pace, starting to pound into you at a relentless pace. You wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping him close and forcing him to go as deep in you as possible. Tsukishima brought one of his hands down to wrap around your neck, the other still holding your wrists in place. He gave the sides of your neck a squeeze, the lack of circulation rushing toward you just as he hit you with a particularly hard thrust. A light scream fell from your lips, the pleasure in that moment so crazily overwhelming. This routine continued; harder thrusts while he actively choked you, very slightly less hard ones as he gave you a moment to breathe correctly, all the while denying you of your high.

“You better not cum, slut.” He warned as he felt you once again starting to get just a bit too tight around him.

“W-wanna cum....so bad.” You weakly replied, tears welling in your eyes as you spoke. Once again, just as you were on the precipice of release, Tsukishima denied you again, pulling out and leaving you empty. Tears fell from your eyes as you uselessly whimpered and protested, all of it only earning you another slap to your cheek.

“Really thought I’d let you, huh? Dumb little bitch.” He said as he turned you over onto your stomach. He filled you up again, but before he moved any further he began raining spank after spank onto your ass. You could only assume it was punishment, but it felt far from it. The pain was nothing but masochistic pleasure for you, and sadistic pleasure for him. Each stung more than the last, and thus each felt even better than the last.

Your senses were so overloaded as he started to thrust into you again that your brain had turned to utter mush. Coherent thought was so far behind you it was like it was never something you could’ve done in the first place. The only thing you could process was pleasure, and to enhance it you lifted one of your legs back up onto the table, the other continuing to stay hanging over to keep yourself up. This new angle let Tsukishima hit sinfully deep in you once again, adding to the utter brainrot you were experiencing. Words no longer were an option for you, only whines and whimpers, a stray profanity at the very best.

Tsukishima grabbed a fistful of your hair, picking your head up off the table. He made you look in the direction of the door, bending down to speak into your ear.

“Look, you left the door unlocked. Someone could come in at any moment and watch you getting fucked like the little whore you are. But I’m sure you'd like it if someone saw us, wouldn't you?” 

You couldn't bring yourself to form any sort of coherent response, and Tsukki very well knew that. He chuckled at your attempt to reply, which was just a rhythmic whine as if you were trying to get some words out.  

“You're not very quiet, either. Stupid sluts like you like having everyone know how good they feel, don't they? I’m sure someone's come by to spy in, hearing how utterly pathetic you sound.” 

His words only made you whine and whimper more, your head in an absolute daze from the sheer amount of pleasure you felt. Tsukki let go of your hair and your head fell down, and you got a good look at yourself in the mirrored wood table. Your mouth was hanging open, your hair a tangled mess and drool slipping from the corner of your parted lips. He had fucked you so past dumb you didn't even know you could be this far gone, and all the while you still had no clue if you would be allowed to cum.

Your hips pushed back against his, meeting every one of his thrusts and forcing him deeper. Each time he re-entered his tip made quick contact with your cervix, the repeated feeling driving you absolutely crazy. Your eyes rolled back as you let yourself fall onto the wood once again. You took everything he gave you, all the while holding your orgasm back. Each time he felt you were a little too close he pulled out, you couldn't even count how many times you'd been denied release, you were sure the number was shameful. You could tell this was getting harder on Tsukishima as well, the twitching and pulsating of his cock inside you letting you know he was having trouble holding back as well. 

You saw no use in begging at this point, and you couldn't have mustered the words for it even if you wanted to. You simply whined and whimpered with every thrust, your body jolting forward each time. Tsukki held on tight to your hips, keeping you in place as he pounded mercilessly into you. In your daze all your senses had dulled, but you could hear just enough for Tsukishima's next four words to be heard, almost as clear as day. 

“Cum. Do it now.” 

In an instant you finally let yourself topple over the edge. Your voice was so hoarse you couldn't scream, rather you let out something between an incredibly loud moan and a whimper, your back arching and your legs shaking vigorously. Tears spilled from your eyes as your body was overrun by an orgasm unlike any other you had experienced. The feeling was only intensified by Tsukishima cumming inside you, depositing a sizable load inside of you. Your vision was blurry and a little white around the edges, and your chest heaved as you let out shallow breaths. Soreness set into your body as you took time to regain yourself, almost ten minutes passing before either of you even thought to move. 

Tsukki pulled out of you slowly, admiring how fucked out you looked, your small body sprawled out on the table. He figured moving would be hard for you, so he gently let your leg down and peeled you off the table, sitting down in the chair behind him and sitting you on his lap. Your head fell on his shoulder, your eyes still a little glazed over, but for the most part it seemed you had come to. 

“Are you feeling okay?” You nodded your head lightly, your breath finally leveling out. Your throat was pretty scratchy, and you knew your voice would be raspy, so you just didn't bother speaking yet.

“What have you learned today, then?” 

“A good couple things.” You croaked out, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. 

“Oh really? Enlighten me.”

“Well, I learned that economics is just something I'm never really going to understand. I also learned that you are a complete and utter asshole, even worse than I thought. Finally, I learned that you are a way more experienced man than I thought you were, and maybe I don't hate you as much as I was letting on.” 

Tsukishima laughed out lightly, giving you a bit of an approving nod.

“Good, I’m glad I at least taught you something. Maybe not what I originally intended, but learning is learning. I think with a couple more study sessions you’ll start to understand the econ material, though.” 

You didn't say this out loud, but the thought of getting to spend some more alone time with Tsukishima actually wasn't the most terrible thought in the world. It seemed clear enough to you that the resentment between you two was clearly something much, much different than that, and so you were open to the thought of exploring what it actually was. Maybe not in as much of an erotic way as you just had next time. Not that you would've minded if it escalated to that point. 

Although, you thought, if Tsukki was going to fuck you like that every time, brainrot from class material was going to be the least of your worries. 

The both of you made yourselves presentable again, packing up all your belongings and leaving the room clean before walking out, which you did fairly slowly due to how sore your legs were. You both walked through the library, which was overwhelmingly empty besides a few staff members working hard at hardly working. It was to be expected; it was a Friday night and you were the only two in the world who'd pick studying over any other activity. You stopped just outside the entrance, turning to your side and giving Tsukishima a wave.

“I guess I’ll catch you later then, Tsukishima.” 

“Oh, so no thank you for helping you study? I guess the one thing I didn't teach you was manners, huh y/n?” You chuckled at his comment, shaking your head a bit.

“Guess you didn’t. It’ll have to wait until next time.” You turned on your heel and started in the direction of the train. Before you could get far Tsukki grabbed your arm and pulled you back over to him, holding your chin so softly with his other hand, the action so outrageously condescending.

“Oh no, I’ll gladly teach you right now.”

[theodora3022]

"Friend"(Yandere! Kazuha)

Genre: Dark fic

Summary: You trusted him, thought of him as a reliable friend. But it is too late to relise your mistake. Jealousy is a deadly poison indeed.

A/N: Wohoo it is finally here! I just got out of my writer’s block. To celebrate him coming home I am writing some short drabbles. There is more to come in the future, so stayed tuned if that interests you!

Content warning: Possessive and obsessive behaviours, drugging mention, implied female reader(no pronouns) General Yandere content, not proof-read or edited

Word count: roughly 1k

“This hurts me way more than it hurts you.”

The silver moonlight that flows from a narrow window compliments his light-coloured hair nicely, but you could not care less about his looks at this moment. Letting out a quiet sigh, the foreigner started to toy with a chain of keys.

The keys that could unlock the cuffs on your wrists.

“Ironic for you to say that when I’m the one being restrained.” Refusing to meet his eyes, you turned to the wall. Your parents were right, you are indeed too foolish, too naïve to take over the family business.

Kazuha knows you are upset, and you have every right to be. Anyone would feel horrible after someone abuses their trust.

Not to mention said person even locked you up in chains. He knows this is wrong, he does feel remorseful. But he simply cannot just let things carry on the way it was. The samurai has to do something, even if that means being questioned by his morals in his dreams.

The young man still remembered the day he first saw you; it feels as new as yesterday.

The Crux is currently restocking their pantry while Beidou is on business in Liyue, and you are here to discuss the prices of a couple of essentials.

Fair prices, polite tone, even greeted him with a smile when you noticed his curious gaze.

Which is something merchants seldom do.

So when the first mate assigned him with the task of managing the transportation from your shop, Kazuha was looking forward to carrying out his duties.

Even his once-noble family has fallen into obscurity, Kaedehara Kazuha got some aristocratic pride left in him. He knows an affable appearance must be kept up if he wishes to get along with the rest of the crew but to say, friends... Kazuha never considered any of them as potential options.

A well-educated induvial who seems to be interested in literature such as yourself piques his interest quite a bit.

From what Kazuha can tell (by listening in to your conversation with other crew members), you seem to admire their leader Beidou a great deal. So he took advantage of that without guilt; after all, that is how anyone would make friends right? It worked fantastically well, as you would invite him to stay for tea after the errands are finished, just to listen from a "insider".

The way your eyes light up like lanterns at dusk is mesmerizing. There is always the way you lean in slightly with interest, frowning when he wants to save the ending for the next meeting.

Is it so bad to leave you wanting more?

He has to admit that he enjoys your company. You are well-spoken, willing to indulge his poetry rambles, even completing unfinished ones from time to time.

Not that he has any idea how much until later.

“Kazuha, you are no fun.” Filling his teacup once more, you said with a petty pout. Just why wouldn’t he ever finish telling the whole story? He’s for sure doing this on purpose just to mess with you.

You two are friends, not close ones, but on amicable terms, nevertheless. Your merchant parents understand the importance of relations and connections well, so they never said anything against it.

That is what both of you believe until the Samurai suddenly feels this unreasonable urge to be violent when he sees you laughing with another man. As he was feeling indisposed that particular day, so the first mate sent another sailor to cover for him.

If gazes can do damage, the poor sailor would have been in shambles within seconds, from Kazuha’s stares alone.

He wants you to smile at him, acting all lively and cute with him only. Oh dear, that is a selfish thought. But Kazuha cannot help it, not that he wants to suppress it anyways.

The self-control that he took pride in almost shattered instantly. Luckily, Kazuha could excuse himself from Beidou’s questionable eyes by repeatly stating how unwell this cold makes him feels.

Wandering Samurais likes him would never settle down for anyone when they still got the strength to travel with a blade in hand. It is simply the illness that is getting to him, yes. That must be it.

Until the string of restraint snapped, when he sees you walking into the Liuli Pavilion with a suitor your parents approved for you. Despite you acting somehow overly polite and distanced with the man, Kazuha feels as if he has been threatened.

How joyous would it be, if he were to leave a few marks on someone who dares to tamper with what is his?

Even if he gets rids of this one, there will be more in the future. You had already told him how your parents wish you to use your marriage to booster your influence.

He needs a solution. A permanent, clean one.

It would be too much of a hassle and trouble to target every single person that comes near you. So, the best option is to target you instead.

When Kazuha had Beidou invite you to a dinner occasion on the crux, you did not think much of the situation and came with a few gifts in hand. He hesitated before giving you the beer that contains few extra ingredients, but he knows it would be worth it before long.

“I should have never trusted you.” You spit it out word by word, expressing them in spite as much as you can. You should have known that he is up to no good when he tried to approach you with legendary tales of Lady Beidou. How could he do this?

Now you are stuck in this tiny room in archon knows where after blacking out suddenly, the only clue being you are on a moving ship.

With his current occupation and status, there is little to no chance that he could ever win your parent’s approval. This way, what they think they do not matter.

The fact that you are his spouse would be set in stone by the time you could return to them. It would leave them no choice but to accept him as a son-in-law to save faces.

Kazuha kneels down near you, trying to reach for your cheeks as if he wants to caress them gently with his fingers. The ruby eyes of the young man darken unnoticeably in the darkroom when you decided to distance yourself away from him, as far as possible. But he understands.

You will come around, hopefully. You did like him back then, so why not once more? Even if you never do, he cares too much for you to ever leave you be. Selfish as it sounds, Kazuha would rather sees you unhapplily stuck here with him, than go roaming freely, be happy in someone else's arms.

[batsandbugs]

A Kiss With a Fist

AN: Hey everyone another fic coming at you! This is for the Maribat Drabble Exchange hosted by @eat0crow I’m so excited to be participating! My fic was for @pixiebuggiewrites​ who wanted a Daminette soulmate fic. Sorry I couldn’t squeeze anybody else in here it was already getting pretty long! I hope you all enjoy! You can also read it here on ao3! (Pictures are NOT mine)

Damian stormed away from the hotel, aggressively zipping his coat. He didn’t care where he was going, only that it was away from here.

He didn’t want to be in Paris. He didn’t want to watch out for incompetent amateurs. He didn’t want to ‘control your anger, Damian’. He wanted to be sent home.

The calm night taunted him, the Parisian streets were too bight and too clean, resembling nothing like his dark city. He missed patrolling, he missed his animals, hell, a part of him (a small, barely negligible part he would never admit to) even missed his siblings. But no, he was stuck here, under his father’s orders until the situation in Paris drew to a conclusion.

Considering it took five years for outside help to be even called in, he had no clue how long the mission would last. He still hadn’t met the so-called-heroes of Paris, but the research he conducted showed they were ill-trained, undisciplined, and relying on so much luck it was a fucking miracle their city wasn’t a smoking ruin by now.

He sighed, sticking his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He regretted not grabbing his gloves in his storm out. He’d been so irritated at his father that even though the man was on the other side of a screen, half-way across an ocean, Damian needed to physically leave to calm his anger. It left him little time to grab essentials for a chilly winter night like a hat, or gloves. He considered himself lucky for remembering to grab a coat at all.

He wandered for a solid hour, the cold sinking into his bones chilling the raging inferno that always seemed to bubble inside him. By the time he no longer wanted to scream at anyone, he was sufficiently lost, considering he hadn’t taken his phone with him either.

Coming to rest on a bridge he took a seat on a small bench. He puffed a warm breath of air into his chilly hands rubbing them together. Nighttime in Paris was so… different compared to Gotham. While big cities never truly slept, this was positively peaceful in comparison to what he was used to. He hadn’t even heard a single sound of ruckus or distress, which seemed strange considering the city was currently besieged by a magical butterfly terrorist.

Damian inwardly scoffed. Butterfly terrorist. True, being a Gothamite meant no room to judge, but he found it hard to think of a stranger string of words.

He sighed; Damian didn’t even know what his father wanted him to do here. Sure, he knew French and was a proficient fighter, but what could that even lend to the situation? They needed a detective, and, as much as he hated to admit it, Drake would have been the better option in that department. Unfortunately, he was off-world. Grayson was dealing with a problem in Hong Kong with Cass. Brown was paired with the rest of the Sirens taking care of Gotham along with Batman, and Todd…

Well, even he recognized what an awful choice Todd would be against a villain who literally used strong negative emotions as his weapon of choice. Damian had a temper; Todd was a ticking-time-bomb.

A high-pitched screech cut through the night air, before being noticeably muffled. Damian was on his feet and running before he even mentally acknowledged it. The thud of his boots on the cobblestone bridge sent small shocks through his legs. Another large clatter directed him off to a side street a couple of feet away. Three men had cornered a tiny slip of a woman, who held her purse like a weapon.

Damian saw red. “Hey, why don’t you pick on someone your own size,” he yelled in French. There was one benefit to being in a foreign city, Damian did not have to play the part of a clueless rich kid who couldn’t hold his own in a fight.

The brutes turned to him and grinned mean smiles. One guy stepped forward. “Come on man, we’re just having a little fun. You can join if you-” Damian cut off the disgusting words with a jab to the nose. Then he spun around, sweeping the second guy’s feet from underneath him, hitting him with a punch to the face to knock him out cold. The first guy hadn’t lost consciousness, but he was doubled over which allowed Damian to knee him in the stomach. Another punch to the face and he was out cold too.

He turned to finish off the last guy, only to see the woman roundhouse kicking him to the head. The burly man fell with a thud. The alley turned eerily silent, the only sounds coming from the sharp breaths of both Damian and the girl. His pulse fluttered fast; the heat of the battle warmed his chilled limbs.

A red purse laid on the ground near his feet. Picking it up he walked over to the small woman, no teen she looked about his age, who was still sharply breathing.

“Here, this is-” a blur is all he saw before a sharp pain spread across his nose.

Did she-

Did she just punch him in the face?

The shock of it sent him sprawling onto the ground, and he blinked away the tears forming in his eyes. Damian cradled his throbbing nose, anger bubbled once more under his skin before-

*Zing*  

The connection hit him like a train. A deep well of rightness spreading through him. He looked up through bleary eyes to find the woman staring at him in similar shock.

“You’re my soulmate,” they sputtered at each other.

Damian inwardly groaned. The League made initiates kill their soulmate should they ever find them to prove their loyalty. He grew up never wanting to find his soulmate, knowing they would serve as nothing but a distraction and weakness. Even when he joined his father, the idea seemed an unneeded liability. Sure, his brothers found their soulmates within the superhero community, but what were the chances he would too?

A small whimper escaped the mouth of the guy lying unconscious on the ground, knocked out by the woman the universe thought would be the perfect match for him. Damian tilted his head. She might not be a superhero, but maybe the universe knew him better than he first imagined.

“OhmygoshIamsosorry!” the flood of words spilled from his soulmate’s mouth, her face a deep shade of red. “I was just-”

“Acting on instinct and adrenaline? Appropriate, considering the threat you just faced,” he said without anger. “Your right hook is sufficiently adequate.”

“Um… thanks? Are you alright though?” She extended a hand to help him off the ground. He took it, his larger hand enveloped hers, but she showed a surprising amount of strength as she pulled him up. The contact sent another *zing* through his body, smaller and more subdued though. Damian found himself reluctant to let go.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” He suffered worse in training before. With the initial pain dissipated, all that was left was a dull throbbing that would be gone by morning. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said with a bright smile. He took the chance to finally observe his soulmate. She was small, couldn’t be more than 5’2, which meant at 6’1 he towered over her. She was of mixed descent, with dark hair spilling over her shoulders, and bright blue eyes. Her arms and legs were toned with muscle, and she held herself with grace and confidence. She wore a face of tasteful makeup and was clothed in a short red dress and a pair of strappy heels with no jacket in sight. He had no clue how she wasn’t freezing to death.

Her smile dimmed a bit. “Actually, no, I’ve had better days. Today has kinda been a perfect disaster; first I’m late for school, then I forgot my homework, and my class bully decided it was a pick-on-Marinette day. There’s a three-hour Akuma fight, involving mind-control, which is always a total drag. I finally get home to find my parents worried sick about me because I hadn’t answered my phone which got destroyed at the beginning of the fight. I go to my class’s senior Valentine’s day dance hoping to finally confess to the guy I’ve had a crush on for years, only to get humiliated because he already has a girlfriend, and everyone else in my class knew and decided not to tell me. When I get away not to cause a scene, not only do I forget my jacket, but I also get attacked by three bumbling idiots with more mouths than brains.” She chuckled, hollow and verging on manic.

Damian stood there, unsure how to take all of that. He filed away the fact she was being bullied, and that she commonly dealt with Akuma attacks. Both equally important, as far as he was concerned.

“Now, here I am, standing in front of my gorgeous soulmate I punched in the face, after beating up said earlier idiots, rambling my mouth off because I don’t know the meaning of the word chill. Yep! I’ve certainly had better days. Ohmygoshimatotalmesskillmenow.” She muttered the last part into her hands, but Damian understood her all the same.

He would come back to the gorgeous thing later.

“…Do you want my jacket? You look cold.” It wasn’t the smoothest thing he could have said, nor the most appropriate considering the mess of a day she’d had. However, the manners Alfred drilled into his brain came knocking and if he was cold with a turtle-neck long-sleeved shirt and a jacket, she must be freezing in all that… nothingness. He averted his eyes from her exposed skin, looking at her face instead.

His soulmate looked at him for a long moment, before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

“You know what, yeah, a jacket would be nice,” she said in a tired voice. Damian shed his coat quickly, not minding the sharp sting of cold that hit him. He helped his soulmate into the sleeves and took an odd little pleasure in seeing how tiny she looked in the folds of his jacket.  

“I’m Marinette, by the way, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” She wrapped the jacket closer cuddling into the heat. “Sorry for kinda freaking out on you there.”

“The kind of day you’ve had has surely broken lesser mortals. Any coping method is your due. I’m Damian, Damian Wayne. It’s a pleasure to meet you Marinette.” He smiles, although the gesture feels odd, trying to appear non-threatening. While his soulmate (and maybe he was coming around to this faster than he thought possible) was obviously skilled at dealing with a variety of stressors, he didn’t want to add any more and risk her being akumatized.

“You as well Damian.” She shivered despite the added protection of his coat, as a gust of wind swept through the alleyway. “As much fun as this conversation has been, it might be best for us to get out of the cold.”

“Indeed. What will we do with these inconveniences?” he asked, poking one of the guys with the tip of his boot.

She sighed, picking her purse from the ground where he’d dropped it. “We’ll call the police to come pick them up. They’ll be cold, but fine.”

Damian scowled, “It’s better than they deserve.” He sneered at the guy who offered for Damian to join them. Join them in assaulting this tiny, bright girl, who’d been through enough. His soulmate. The bubbling rage began anew, and he wished he’d done more than just knock them unconscious, they deserved far worse for thinking, daring, to touch-

A small hand rested on his arm, dragging him out of his violent thoughts. “I’m fine Damian. Even if you hadn’t arrived, I would have been fine. I can hold my own in a fight. This is Paris after all.”

“Tt,” Damian scoffed. “Fine. We’ll leave them to their fates.” And if their fates happened to involve complete ruination of their online lives, credit scores, and secure information? Well, that was hardly his fault, now was it?

“There’s a good café opened late around the corner. Would you- would you like to go there?” Marinette asked.

Damian smiled at the tentative offer. “I would very much enjoy that, yes. I’ve been out for longer than I should, coffee would be great right about now.” She giggled and he felt his stomach flutter. Funny, giggling always annoyed him, but that bright clear sound... he could grow used to that.

Walking out of the dark alley, listening to Marinette talk to the police on her phone, Damian sighed. The streets no longer felt too clean, or the lights too bright. Yes, he was colder, and yes this was a complication, but for some reason, Damian could not bring himself to care.

Maybe Paris wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[ijustwant2write]

The Last Five Years-Fred Weasley x Reader

(GIF credit to @hp-wizardingtrash-1​)

(I combined two requests which were very similar)

Both Requested by anonymous: ‘Hey! Can you do a Fred Weasley imagine where him and the reader dated in their last year but Fred broke up with her cause he was leaving and he didn’t want to hurt her. But the reader was pregnant so she leaves right after. So no one knows what happened to her. After the war maybe like 5 years later (Fred lives), something happens maybe the kid needs blood from both parents because he’s sick and they need that for surgery, so the reader goes to Fred begging for blood and Fred learns the truth.’

‘Hey! Can I request a Fred Weasley imagine where the reader was pregnant (back when they in school) but Fred dumps her when he’s leaving to start the shop. (But he still loves her) and the reader has twins, a boy and a girl, who are just like him and George. After the war (Fred lives) something happens where he finds out, (up to you). And both Fred and the reader still love each other. Happy cute family ending.‘

Characters: Fred Weasley x Reader, Molly Weasley x Reader (platonic), Arthur Weasley x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/S/N)=Your son’s name

(Y/D/N)=Your daughter’s name

Warnings: Teenage pregnancy, talk about abortions, abandonment, single parenting, separated families, mention of blood, sickness, child sickness, mention of hospitals/blood, fluff

                                    *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Leaning against a stone pillar, I looked out at the view of the lake and the grounds, crossing my arms across my chest to make myself feel warmer. I resisted touching my stomach, still terrified at the thought of life growing in there. I was only seventeen, I hadn't even finished my studying at Hogwarts and this was happening. This wasn't something Fred and I could joke about, or laugh at to make the situation a little better, this was serious, and I couldn't tell how my boyfriend would react.

Feeling a tap on my shoulder, my head whipped round to look, but no one was there. As my head turned to the other side, Fred towered over me, chuckling to himself. But I couldn't bring myself to even smile, instead rolling my eyes at him.

"Hey, what's wrong? I'm sorry I'm late, George and I were speaking, I've got so much to tell you!" he rambled, not taking offence to my action.

"Something...Fred, I...I don't know what to do!" I suddenly started sobbing, which panicked my boyfriend.

He instantly put his arms around me, holding me tight into his chest. At first he let me cry, probably thinking I was stressed about exams (I definitely was on top of everything) before pushing me away and bending down to look me in the eyes.

"Hey, let's sit down yeah?" he guided me to a bench close by, keeping his arms around me as we took a seat.

I couldn't stop my tears, trying to keep quiet in case anyone heard, or before any professors could intervene.

"Here, let me tell you what George and I have been discussing. It'll take your mind off this for a bit, yeah? OK, so, you know how George and I have always said about owning a joke shop, well, something has come through. And after all this stuff going on with Umbridge, we've decided to leave-"

"I'm pregnant." I blurted out.

Unsurprisingly, his eyes widened, mouth dropping open, I could feel his body tense up. Staring up at him, I silently pleaded for him to say something.

"Fred?" I mumbled.

"(Y/N), please say you're joking."

"This isn't a fucking prank Fred!" I exclaimed, shoving him away from me."I’m serious!"

"W-what...I don't know what to say."

I stood up, not able to sit still."Fred, we're having a baby. What are we going to do? We've still got exams, and then graduation, not to mention having to tell our parents and-"

"(Y/N), I'm not doing my exams."

"What do you mean you're not doing your exams? Fred, it's literally coming to the end of our studies, why would you throw that away?"

"Because I have a plan, I was just about to tell you! George and I are leaving early and we're getting a shop in Diagon Alley."

"Are you crazy?! Fred, what if it doesn't work? You won't have any exam results, you won't be able to apply for jobs-"

"Well thanks for believing in me, that's great to hear from your girlfriend!" he leapt up from the bench.

"You know I support you through everything, but I'm thinking about our futures! If we have a baby on the way, we need to be able to support it."

"We haven't planned for this! This...this wasn't what I envisioned for us, not now!"

"Oh, and you think I did?"

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"What am I going to do? No, it should be what are we going to do? How dare you?! What, are you just going to leave me as well as Hogwarts?"

When he didn't reply, I scoffed, but it wasn't in an angry way, it was more upsetting than that. My mind went into overdrive, not recognising the man in front of me. I had expected shock, of course I had, but what I wasn't expecting was this rudeness, the bluntness coming from him.

"Fred," I was quieter now,"what are you saying right now?"

"You want to keep it?"

"I...I don't really know yet."

"So we're arguing about something that might not even effect us!"

"Even if we got rid of it, it wouldn't be a matter of 'let's just forget about it'. Do you know how hard that is for a woman? And the father?"

He hastily grabbed my hands."Then leave with me! We've always talked about living together after we finish school. What difference does this make?"

"I want to do my exams Fred! Even if I didn't, my parents wouldn't allow it. And that was easier to plan for back then. It would just be us. We could have a small space anywhere. But with a baby? We need somewhere safe, somewhere that is a good place to raise them, and we also need to feed three people, buy nappies, clothes constantly because babies grow a lot-"

"I can't do it." he interrupted.

"Fred, please, I love you. I know we can figure something out-"

"No, I...we're too young, this isn't fair." his eyes were distant, as if he was staring straight through me. 

"What you're saying isn't fair! I couldn't have done this by myself."

"I just...I don't know what else to say I..." 

He said no more as he rushed away from me, and I was too stunned to go after him. As he picked up the pace, he passed Mcgonagall, who glanced between us before she approached me. "I think we should have a word Madam Pomfrey, shouldn't we Miss (Y/L/N)?"

                                           *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Mummy!" (Y/S/N) yelled out, just like he did every day.

I sighed as I brought out the kids breakfast, setting it in front of them."Don't worry, you're not going to starve. Here you go darling."

"Thanks." he mumbled, picking up his spoon and eating. He was always more awake in the morning compared to his sister.

"Thank you mummy." (Y/D/N) quietly said, also digging into her food.

I smiled at them both, quietly laughing at their wild hair from their sleep, before grabbing myself a bowl of cereal. Quickly returning, I sat down with them, my smile faltering as I looked at (Y/D/N) pale face.

"Do we have to go hospital today?" she asked. She hated how many times we had to go, the appointments were becoming more and more regular.

I nodded."Yes darling. But (Y/S/N) is coming today, because he's not at school for a while! You can play together whilst we wait for the doctor."

"I'll play with you (Y/D/N)." her brother kindly said.

"I don't want to go." (Y/D/N) frowned.

"We have to. Remember, they're helping you get better." 

"I want to play at home." 

"I promise it won't be very long. We've got our trip soon, haven't we?" 

"How many more days mummy?" (Y/S/N) excitedly asked. 

"Only two! We need to start packing your bags." 

(Y/S/N) started to chat away about this trip he knew nothing about, listing every single item he was bringing, whereas his sister was silent as she finished her breakfast. She had been a sickly child compared to her healthy twin brother. The hospital had diagnosed her, and explained that I needed to ask family members to have blood tests, to see if they matched with her and could help in any way. My side of the family had no luck, and after much deliberation with myself (and my parents), I knew I had to see Fred again, I had to face him. But with my little girl so ill, so weak, I would face down Voldemort himself to make her well again. Though I had a feeling seeing 'He who shall not be named' would be a lot easier than seeing the father of my children. 

The day of the trip came, and the kids were excited. We had packed their tiny suitcases, and I an overnight bag, before setting off. All day I had kept a smile on my face, not wanting to worry them. They thought it was a mini holiday, something we had never been on due to money. For five years it had been the three of us, with me at work, then at school and their grandparents when I had a late shift before cuddling up in bed with a good story together. It was a simple life, but they brought me so much joy, I couldn't express how happy they made me if I tried, it was infinite. And now I was taking them to meet their father I had avoided talking about, I was worried what it would do to our bond. 

"That's a strange house mummy." (Y/D/N) said as we approached the Burrow, a place I had spent much time in. 

"This is where your other grandparents live. It's very nice here. And they are very nice people." I said as we continued walking. 

"We say, we say please and thank you, don't we mummy?" (Y/S/N) added.

I giggled."Yes, we do."

We were now stood outside of the house, right in front of the door, but I still clutched onto my children's hands. They were confused as to why I wasn't knocking, why I was standing still. It was as if I was frozen. So when (Y/S/N) boldly stepped forward and knocked, I was pulled out of my trance. Before I could say anything to him, I heard movement coming from the other side of the door, and pulled him back towards me. There was no turning back now. Molly opened the door, her jaw almost hitting the floor as she set her eyes on me, then the kids, which is when she gasped. I bravely smiled, taking a deep breath to hold back the tears.

"H-Hi Molly. I'm...I'm really S-sorry just showing up out of the b-blue-" I couldn't stop stuttering over my words,"but...but I thought it was time you met your grandchildren."

Molly had immediately ushered me inside, throwing her arms around me as soon as the door closed. Holding my face in her hands, she studied my face, seeing how much I had changed over the years.

"I can't believe you're here!" she quietly exclaimed."It's been so many years."

"I'm sorry Molly. I didn't mean to disappear." I began welling up, trying to hold it back in front of the kids.

"Dear, don't apologise for a thing. We can talk about this later." she comforted me, stepping back to look at her grandchildren."So, these are your children?"

"My twins, ironically. (Y/D/N), (Y/S/N), this is your nan, Molly."

They stayed close to me, only (Y/S/N) letting go of my hand. I gently encouraged them forwards, pushing them towards Molly. She used the table beside her to help her kneel down, slowly extending her arms out to them. I felt overwhelmed as (Y/S/N) cautiously stepped towards her, hugging Molly before leaving her embrace again. It was one of those shy hugs kids gave, when they knew it was the right/polite thing to do but weren't sure of it themselves.

Molly was the only one in the house, and we let the kids play as we sat and caught up on what happened in the last five years. For me, there was a slight awkward tension in the air, but Molly's warm smile made me forget about that. I'm sure she had tons of questions as to why I never brought the twins round, and why I only showed up when I wanted something.

"Why don't you stay the night? I can hardly get Fred to stop by now. But there's plenty of room." Molly offered.

"Oh, only if that's alright with you! That would be very helpful. Um, do you think he’ll even want to see me?”

She kindly smiled as she slowly nodded.“My son is still just as infatuated with you as he was all those years ago.”

I refrained from snapping about how he never sent a letter, checked to even see if I was alright, if I had kept the pregnancy going. But then again, I had also cut off any contact with him, so it wasn’t entirely fair for me to say that. However, I was the one carrying twins by herself, raising them as a single mother (my family helped as much as they could, though no one could replace a father figure). And although the catch up with Molly had been good, it had lifted this tension from my body, I hated how my stomach twisted at the thought of Fred showing up here. Hi reaction was completely unknown. He could have moved on, maybe Molly was just wanting us together again; what if he was seeing someone, someone without children, someone who was free to do what they wanted and more fun than I was? He could easily turn a blind eye to it all. Or perhaps he would want to be a part of the family now. But why should I let him in after all these years? He missed five years of their life, and I understood that he would have no clue where we were, though there were ways of tracking us down. My mind was conflicted, I was here to make (Y/D/N) better, that was the top priority.

When Arthur returned that evening, he wore the same expression Molly had had when I first arrived. Although he was happy to see me, he wasn’t shouting or bouncing off the walls, he was more concerned; asking me all these questions, wanting me to go in depth about (Y/D/N)’s illness and how they could help. Both of them agreed they would help, and that once I spoke with Fred, they would ask the rest of the family also. 

Molly had laid out a full breakfast the next morning, though I really didn’t feel like eating. The kids got stuck right in, eating more food than I think I’ve ever seen them eat. They weren’t used to treats like this, we weren’t extremely poor, but even a fancy cereal was out of the question for us. I shared a smile with Molly and Arthur, thanking them for their hospitality. (Y/S/N) and (Y/D/N) were more comfortable with them, sometimes talking to them, or showing their toys. As we sat at the table, our plate and bowls now empty, Arthur gestured for me to follow him to the other room.

“(Y/N), I just wanted to make sure you were ready for today. I’ve had this same talk with Fred.” he quietly said.

I looked down at my feet, my arms crossing over my chest.“I don’t think I’ll ever be fully ready to see him again.”

“You have been very brave coming here. I can see how difficult this is for you. But I understand wanting to look after your children, it’s a feeling you only ever experience once you have them. Molly and I spoke last night. Even if, for some bizarre reason, Fred doesn’t...he doesn’t....”

“He doesn’t want to be around us.”

Arthur sighed sadly.“We will still help you. And you always have a place here, you always have family here.”

I hugged him, feeling like a child again in his arms. I felt protected, like nothing could hurt me whilst I was here. When we returned to the others, Molly was already clearing everything away, (Y/D/N) and (Y/S/N) talking each others ears off. Molly denied my help as I offered, knowing that I was very nervous and wanted the kids ready, as well as myself before their father arrived. I was happy that they were in a good mood, talking amongst themselves rather than asking lots of questions. But I still needed to sit them down, tell them who they were meeting today.

“You two look amazing!” I beamed, sitting them down on the edge of the bed, me kneeling in front of them.

“Mummy looks...mummy looks like a princess.” (Y/D/N) giggled as she clutched onto her own princess doll.

“Thank you. Do you guys remember why I said we were coming here?” 

“To meet daddy.”

“Yeah.” my voice turned shaky.“So, we need to be really good today OK? You guys were so good yesterday, and I need you to be like that again please. Me and daddy might need to talk for a while, so you two can play together, or with granddad Arthur and grandmother Molly.”

“Where is daddy?” (Y/S/N) asked.

“He’s on his way.”

“No, not, not now. Where has he been? Because all my friends have daddies, they have mummies and daddies, but I don’t.”

“He’s...he’s been....” 

How was I supposed to explain this to a five year old?

“It’s a bit confusing darling. But that doesn’t matter because he’s here now.”

(Y/D/N) looked away from her doll.“Will he come home with us?”

“I don’t know. Just don’t be upset if he doesn’t. We’ve been fine, just the three of us, haven’t we?”

They nodded, and I pulled them in to hug me. Their little arms wound around me where they could, and I could feel their tiny hands grasping at me. Squeezing them tighter, I laughed when they did, exclaiming they I was holding them too hard. Pulling away, I kissed them both on the cheeks, holding their hands to take them downstairs. However, my grin fell as I heard the door open, Fred’s voice ringing out. My body stiffened, heart starting to race quickly. Instinctively, I pulled the twins closer to me, not sure if I should go to Fred or wait here.

“It’s alright dear, I’m here.” Molly calmly said beside me.

All I could do was smile. My throat turned dry, breathing shaky and I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I heard Arthur speaking to his son, but it was muffled, until footsteps started approaching. And suddenly, there he was, the boy I feel deeply in love with was now a man, standing even taller than before. Although we both looked different, it was as if we were teenagers again.

“(Y/N)...I...I can’t believe...” he couldn’t form a sentence, his gaze now on the twins.

I knelt between my children, hugging them close to me.“This is (Y/S/N), and (Y/D/N). They’re my world. And...your children too.”

The kids curled into me, noticing the tension in the room. They didn’t know this big man, and they could sense that I was on edge. I put on a brave face for them. I was their mother, their protector, I would always ensure that they felt comfortable, safe, happy and loved. 

“M-my children?” he was still looking at them.

“I think you two should talk before...well before a proper meeting, yeah?” Arthur gently suggested.

“Alright.” I agreed.“You two go upstairs and play, you can come down in a bit, OK?”

“Come on you two, let’s go see what toys I’ve got for you. You can show me yours.” Molly said happily, wanting to make the kids relaxed.

They hesitantly went, but I heard them starting to talk about what toys they had and wanted as they climbed the stairs, Molly feigning surprise and interest. 

“I’ll just be in the garden, should you need me.” Arthur said before leaving.

And then there we were. Just us two again. I hadn’t seen him in five years, not since that week of our argument. Multiple emotions rushed through me; I could be angry, upset, frustrated, desperate, loving, relieved...all were pushing their way to the front of my mind, wanting to have their chance to speak.

“Five years.” Fred mumbled.

“Five years.” I repeated.

“I...I can’t speak. I can’t, I can’t think right now. I had so much I wanted to say.”

I didn’t know how to respond.

“Their names...I remember us talking about them.”

“Yeah. I always liked them.”

“Are they...well, do they know...”

“They know you’re their father. I've always avoided this kind of topic as much as I could with them. They've obviously asked in the past, but I guess since they were so used to it just being me, it was normal for them."

"How have you been?"

"Pretty good, for what it's worth. I was able to get on my feet, with the help of family, I gave birth to them with no complications, all by myself until the last minute. Mum had burst into the room, her face bright red as she rushed to my side. It was scary. And from there I managed to get us a small house, just the necessary rooms, and I try and treat them as much as I can, if the budget will allow it."

"Why didn't you contact me sooner?"

"Why didn't you contact me?" I snapped back."You had the means to do so as well. You probably had more time than I had to even think about contacting me!"

He slightly raised his hands, trying to calm me down."OK, I'm sorry. That was a stupid question."

“No, I'm sorry." I sat down at the kitchen table, head in my hands."I'm just feeling a lot of mixed things right now."

I heard him shuffle around before the chair next to mine scraped along the floor, and he sat in it."I know. So am I."

"I came here because (Y/D/N) is sick. An option we have is a transfusion of blood but we have to find the right person. They said the most likely match would come from a family member. All of mine have tried, even distant relatives. That's why I came in the first place."

His face had fallen into a sad expression, eyebrows furrowed."Wait, what does that mean?"

"She won't die, nothing like that. Even with the right treatment, she would have to go to hospital throughout her life. (Y/D/N) will be a sickly person throughout her life."

“Of course I’ll help. I know we all will.”

I smiled through my tears.“Thank you Fred. That means everything to me.”

“But...” he looked down at the table, slowly sliding his hand towards mine. He boldly placed it on top of mine,“I want to look after you too.”

“Fred-”

“No, please listen. There has not been a day where I didn’t regret what I said to you the last time we saw each other. I...I thought about you everyday, but I was too selfish, I was too much of a coward to do anything about it. My love for you, it was...it is enormous. I think as a teen, I knew I was in love, I just didn’t realise how painful it would be when I lost you. And it was all my fault.”

“We’re both to blame. Throughout my pregnancy, I tried to hate you. I convinced myself I did, though deep, deep down in my heart, the love was still there. I told myself I could do this without you, and some days it really felt like that. Others, it would have been nice to have someone else around. And not just to help with the kids. To feel...like a normal family. To have someone look after me at the end of a long day.”

“I can’t believe no one else snatched you up.” he smiled.“You’ve become more beautiful over the years, I didn’t think that was possible.”

I blushed, rolling my eyes at his compliment.“Surprisingly, no one wants a woman with two kids, especially young kids.”

“Can’t say I’m too angry about that.”

“What are we doing Fred? It can’t go back to how it used to be. Not...not straight away.”

“You think you could forgive me?”

“And me?”

“You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I kept you from your children! I could have done this years ago. They...they could have had their father in their lives, we knew how to get to each other.” I used my free hand to cover my eyes as I began crying.

“Hey,” Fred’s other arm wrapped around my shoulders,“you’re here now with me. I will apologise everyday if it means you can look me in the eyes and feel happiness. You deserve that much. And as for (Y/S/N) and (Y/D/N), I would love to get to know them. We can see where it goes, and further down the line...well, we can take baby steps.”

I sniffled.“You really want to do that?”

He smiled and nodded.“I’m going to be here for you all from now on. They’re my kids, and you’re the mother of my children. I’m going to make up for lost time.”

He tenderly embraced me, and how I had missed this feeling with him. I reacted, holding onto him as I continued to silently cry. He rocked us back and forth, but I could tell he was crying when I felt something drip onto my neck. This didn’t mean all was forgiven, it would take a while to mend everything between us, and for the kids to get used to their father again (and vice versa). Although I knew this would be a journey, I had some faith in it, and I prayed and hoped that someone from the Weasley side could help with (Y/D/N).

We were going to work through this. From what Fred had said, he was desperately wanting to reconnect. Perhaps we could be a family, and the last five years would be nothing compared to the rest of our lives.

[maplecornia]

chapter 7

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 2.04K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: so yeah, i've decided to start uploading every day for this story until i'm caught up with the chapters i have. i'll tell you guys when i'll go back to posting once a week.

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags:@kookaine |@fangirl125reader |@kookiebbyxx |@taradevonne

You almost faint in disbelief.

It's him, it's him.

Jeon Jungkook.

That's his face, those are his eyes, and that is his body.

Real, and right in front of you.

Heart pounding in your chest, you find yourself unable to breathe, your chest constricting and your mind going blank. You're faintly aware of the towel crinkling in your hands, and your feet propelling you backward, away from him. If he notices, he doesn't show it, seeming almost as frozen as you are.

You would know him anywhere.

The golden maknae of BTS, the one who’s made you laugh over and over multiple times before, the one who's good at everything, the sweet and handsome Jeon Jungkook.

Even after all these years, he still looks the same.

As he looks up at you, his hair falls in strands across his forehead. It's his natural color, a deep midnight black, with brown undertones. It looks as though he tried to do it in the morning, but a little too much dance practice has destroyed his efforts. There’s a slight sheen of sweat on his skin, complimenting the smooth soft complexion and making him shine as though he were a drop of moonlight befallen on the earth.

As he blinks, long feathery eyelashes cast small shadows on his cheeks, complementing the dark brown color of his irises. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words form, the same curve to his lips making it seem as though he were smiling even the tiniest bit your way. In the back of your mind, you recall how those lips would spread whenever he smiled, transforming his sweet face into one similar to that of a bunny.

As he moves even the slightest bit, your gaze travels to his jaw and you swallow hard.

Even his body is the same.

He's still tall and strong, sure and trained muscle rippling beneath his slight build. The coffee has even helped in this aspect, his shirt sticking to his chest and accenting his toned pectorals and sculpted abs beneath. You can see it in the muscle of his thighs, showing through his jeans, and the strong structure of his forearm. It even shows in the veins on his hands.

He looks the same as the day he left with the rest of BTS, leaving you behind.

At the thought, you sadly look away.

You had forgotten those days, forgotten the emptiness you felt in their absence.

You had forgotten about them for a while.

Perhaps that's the worst part.

What are you going to do?

You just bumped into Jeon Jungkook, probably the most beloved and adored member of BTS. Spilled his coffee all over him with not so much as a drop falling on you, and then proceeded to gawk at him.

You can't get all starry-eyed over an idol.

Especially not now.

Inwardly, you remind yourself that he’s just another person. He's just another human being, just someone else who lives on the same planet as you do.

Yeah, he's just another globally renowned person.

Half of the world's population is either in love with him or wanting to be like him.

Not to mention he's incredibly talented, with a great personality and heart of gold.

Nothing to worry about.

Glancing up at him, you can see he seems to have forgotten about you and is currently trying to rub the coffee stains off with the edge of his sleeve.

Smiling softly, you remember the towel you had retrieved moments ago and look towards him, swallowing hard.

“Mr. Jeon Jungkook?” your voice is soft, almost inaudible, and you silently curse yourself. Seriously, how much further are you going to embarrass yourself? Nevertheless, it draws his attention and he immediately looks up. At the sight of his eyes on you once more, your heart skips a beat.

“Here, you might need this.” Noticing the towel in your hands, he takes it from you, your fingers brushing against each other for a split second.

Almost as soon as he takes it from you, you snatch your hand back, trying to ignore the rapid beating of your heart and the faint blush rising in your cheeks. He smiles at you, politely, before nodding his head and murmuring what you think is a thank you, but you can't tell.

Looking away, you spy the mess on the floor.

Eyes widening, you immediately drop to your knees, pulling out another towel and starting to clean up the marble tile. It’s the least you can do after making a mess such as this. As you scrub up the floor, you can hear people whispering behind you and are faintly aware of a janitor in the far corner gazing at you in amazement.

You don't care, this is keeping your mind off of him.

This is distracting you from reality, at least for a moment.

But Jungkook has other plans.

You don't notice it when he pauses from cleaning his shirt and stares at you on the floor. Nor when he kneels and peers at you almost curiously. You don't even notice as he waves away a few staff members who inquire if he’s okay, or if he needs any help. You don't spy the faint smile playing on his lips as you dutifully clean up your mess.

Nor do you see when he takes the towel you gave him and cleans the floor beside you, setting the empty coffee cup to the side.

When you glance up from your work, and his face is there, just a few inches away from yours, you blink, startled.

His eyes meet yours, just like before, but this time they aren't as scared. This time, they’re friendly, almost nervous, but welcoming as they hold your attention once more. He smiles, softly, before reaching forward and taking the towel from your hand.

Inhaling sharply, you flinch away, surprised by the touch.

At the movement, his eyes falter in confidence and he looks away, shutting down once more. Only, you don't want him to shut down again. Frantically, you search for words, anything to say to him.

“I...” As he looks up at you, it's as though all your butterflies are gone and your mind is no longer blank. Things become clear and you know what you have to say.

“I’m sorry.”

At your words, he seems taken aback, as though he weren't expecting that. He blinks, surprised and you continue.

“I didn't see you behind me, and I should've apologized earlier or at least said excuse me or….” Trailing off, you sigh. Rambling won't do you any good now.

“The point is, I’m sorry.” You murmur, softly, before bowing your head to him.

You can't see his face or the way he looks at you tenderly, completely awestruck by your behavior. You don't see the soft, kind way he smiles before he playfully knocks on your head, and you raise it.

“It's alright, you don't have to apologize.” He reassures you and you flush deeply at the sound.

Jungkook’s voice is soft and almost melodic, as though he’s always ready to break out in song, exactly how you've heard it on videos and during concerts.

And yet, now that you're hearing it in person, it's a bit different.

You can hear the soft rumble in his throat as he speaks, a tiny hint of his Busan dialect mixing in with his words. Every syllable is straightforward and clear, every word having a purpose.

It's slightly raspy but refreshed, like the feeling after you've just had a good workout or have just accomplished a really hard dance you've been practicing for a while.

But what's most important is that at the sound of his voice, unexplainable emotions run through your heart.

You have to look away or you're afraid he would surely detect the rapid beating of your heart, the chaos in your mind, the way your body has suddenly gone weak.

Looking away, you spy the discarded cup on the side and lunge for it, startling Jungkook a bit. He dodges you, his eyes widening slightly. Pulling back you smile a bit sheepishly before standing and giving him a small smile.

“Wait here.” You instruct before turning and hurrying to a trash can.

As you look up after throwing away the coffee cup, you notice a vending machine and spy a canned coffee cup on one of the slots.

Glancing back at Jungkook, you watch as he offers the soaked towels to the janitor who has come behind you and is currently mopping up the mess.

Turning back to the vending machine, you pull out your wallet, taking out a couple of won and inserting it into the slot. Pressing the numbers of the coffee can, you receive your change, bending down to retrieve your prize and turning back to Jungkook. Taking a deep breath, you pocket your wallet and hide the coffee behind your back before walking back over to him.

As you reach him, he greets you with a friendly smile, and you return it, almost nervously.

“Here.” You say, and he takes it from you, peering at it in slight confusion. “To replace the other one.”

“Thank you.” He murmurs, opening it and taking a drink. As soon as he tastes it, he pulls back, overdramatizing how delicious it is. At the sight of his expression, you snort, chuckling softly.

“It's really good!” he exclaims, and you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. He laughs as well, a soft chuckle that warms you from the inside out and makes your smile grow wider.

You open your mouth to say something else, but a voice behind you cuts you off.

“Jungkook!” at the sound, Jungkook looks behind you, and you turn around.

A staff member is standing near an elevator, holding it open. She frantically points to her watch, a phone held desperately between her shoulder and ear. She seems distressed as though she’s late for something, and as you think about it, you realize she probably is.

You couldn't meet with Kim Namjoon due to a meeting he had with BTS, and Jungkook happens to be a member of BTS. He was probably on the way when you bumped into him.

“You should probably go.” You mutter, a bit disheartened at seeing him leave. “It sounds important.”

As you say the words, you turn to him and he seems a bit down himself. He nods to the staff member before looking at you and smiling once more. A bit bashfully, he holds out his hand, grinning that bunny smile as you take it.

“Thank you for the coffee, miss. It was nice to meet you.” He says politely, shaking your hand softly before bowing his head to you.

“You're welcome, I’m sorry again, by the way.” You chuckle softly, and he shakes his head at you almost in disbelief.

“I thought I told you,” he murmurs, letting go of your hand and starting to walk past you. However, as he reaches your side, he pauses, whispering in your ear...

“You don't have to be sorry for anything.”

At the feeling of his breath against your skin, you shiver, a slight blush exploding on your cheeks. You refuse to meet his eyes, unwilling to let him see your blush.

So you don't see him smirk at your reaction before turning away and heading to meet the staff member who has started to pace in anticipation and worry.

As soon as he leaves your side, you turn, watching him as he walks away. When he reaches halfway to the elevator doors, he pauses. As though he could feel your eyes on him, he turns his head, glancing over his shoulder at you.

Smiling, he meets your eyes, raising his hand in the air to say goodbye. Letting out a small laugh, you roll your eyes before doing the same.

After a moment, he turns once more, completing the distance and vanishing behind the elevator door, your eyes unable to break from him the entire way.

And once he’s gone, you hold the same hand you waved goodbye to him with, close to your chest.

As though that would calm the rapid beating of your heart.

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: pretty spoicy no? (¬‿¬)

chapter 8 here

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